Warnings: Johnlock slash (Rating could go up), beta'd now, I'm not British,

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

Special Thanks: Anne, my lovely Beta, who keeps reassuring me and giving me wonderful advice and Ariane DeVere (located here: . ) for writing transcripts. You Rock!

The two nights before the besotted two were to wed, Lestrade arrives at Baker Street to inform the pair that he would be taking them out for a "stag night" later that evening. Sherlock wasn't particularly sure what that was, but he already knew he wouldn't like it but John, however, was very excited about the prospect of a boys night out. When Gregory left, the consulting detective begins researching what a "stag night" entails. He doesn't like what he saw. Thus, Sherlock decides to voice his concerns to his blogger.

"John, I don't see why we have to go."

Said blogger heaves a put upon sigh and takes two mugs down for tea. "Sherlock, I've already told you that you do not have to go. I'm not going to make you go." The amateur detective goes into the kitchen, stands beside his threadmate, crosses his arms, and pouts. "I just don't see the point in getting utterly sloshed to have a good time. Nor do I understand the idea of hiring some exotic dancer to entertain us for the evening."

There must have been something in the way Sherlock said that last sentence because John stops his tea making process completely and turns to look at his soulmate. "Is that what this is all about?" The ebony haired genius stares pointedly at the corner of the room and refuses to look at his threadmate as he whispers, "Don't you miss it?"

John's brow furrows in obvious concern as he places the mugs softly down on the counter to stand in front of his threadmate. "Love, look at me... Miss what exactly?" When the consulting detective finally submitted to his threadmate's request, his angular face held an expression of nonchalance but the blogger could see through the mask, and he could read the underlying nervousness hidden there. "Don't you miss the freedom?" There's a moment of stunned silence until the army doctor opens his mouth to speak but his threadmate cuts him off, "You've always dated people without any commitments and now you're getting married to an unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole. It's no contest, really."

After a moment of thought John declares, "You're absolutely right. There is no contest." Although when the blogger had spoken these words, his soulmate flinches, visibly places an uncaring mask upon his angular face, and forcibly refuses to meet John's gaze before quietly saying, "I understand."

As the detective goes to draw away, John wraps his arms around the slim waist in front of him and rests his head against his firm chest, "There's no contest because I didn't feel anything for any of those people. I love you. I didn't love any of them. Yes, you are all of those things, but I'm not going anywhere. I know how you are and I love you because of them, not despite of them."

When the besotted blogger finishes, he leans up to press a sweet kiss against the detective's plush lips. The amateur sleuth returns the kiss and after a moment gently whispers against his doctor's mouth, "I love you too, John."

John brightly smiles up at his love as he says, "Good! Now that that's settled… Shall I call Lestrade?"

Sherlock can't help the smile that spreads across his face as he rolls his eyes, and after a moment, nods his head. John retrieves his mobile out of his pocket, and with a brilliant smiled aimed at his detective, he dials Greg's number. As the conversation ends, the blogger and detective go to get ready for the evening ahead.

Sherlock has no idea what to expect from the evening, so he puts on his tight purple shirt and tailored, black trousers. John, on the other hand, wears a black, well-fitted shirt that shows off his still defined muscles and a pair of nice jeans. When the doctor and detective present what they are wearing to the other, two pairs of eyes dilate while mentally undressing the other and a shared gasp is uttered. John is the first to speak as he breathlessly says, "God, love. You look gorgeous." When Sherlock hears the way his blogger speaks these words, he blushes and says, "Thank you, John. You look very handsome."

The blogger pulls his threadmate into a slowly kiss, which quickly becomes heated as tongues slide together in an erotic dance. As things begin to get heated, the enamored pair hears a knock on the door. The kisses slow down and become languid until they place loving kisses once, twice, three times until John pulls away to check the door. Just before the army doctor can open the threshold, Sherlock takes a small step forward and asks, in a very hesitant voice, "Later?" John's answers with a quick nod and a stunning smile.

When the door finally opens, Lestrade come barreling in with a seemingly, newfound energy as he boisterously proclaims, "So, chaps, I hope you're ready for a night out because I plan to give you a night to remember!" Lestrade's energetic smile quickly becomes contagious as it spreads to John's face. The loyal blogger looks up at his threadmate and joyfully declares, "Allons-y!"

Briefly, a surprised look crosses the detective's face at the unexpected French terminology, but the expression quickly passes as Sherlock fondly rolls his eyes, grabs his coat and scarf, and follows the D.I. and his beautiful threadmate.

When the trio finally reaches a nightclub, Sherlock's mouth slightly turns up on the corners because the thought of dancing with John is incredibly appealing. As they enter in, the first thing the Detective Inspector does is head straight to the bar. John chuckles and grabs Sherlock's hand to drag him to a booth near the edge of the dance floor. Once there, they slide in to wait for Greg to return. After a moment or two of internal debate, Sherlock stands and asks if John would care to dance.

The grin from before returns to the bloggers face as he nods his acceptance. When they reach the dance floor, the ebony genius slots their legs together and grabs his soulmate's hands and places them on his hips. Sherlock rhythmically rocks against his loving doctor along with the songs slow beat.

John has never seen anything as sexy as the man currently grinding his hip into the blogger's thigh. After a moment of brief hesitation, John undulates his hips in time with the music; it becomes evident that the mutual stimulation burns a slow build of arousal through the thredmates' veins. When the song ends both men are panting and each need a moment to adjust themselves.

Greg soon finds the pair and drags them back to the booth in order to enjoy a round of pints. The soon to be wedded couple sit closely together, breathing the other's air, and basking in the ability to be close. Whispered sentiments from the connected pair reach the D.I.'s ears and when Lestrade realizes that he won't be heard in his attempts to initiate small talk, he smiles fondly and says something along the lines of retrieving more pints.

The evening carries on like that for a couple of hours more, and after another bout of dancing, John excuses himself to the loo to 'take the edge off.' Greg, at this point, is intoxicated and is boisterously singing along to some upbeat song. Sherlock walks up to the bar to escape the close proximity of the dance floor. Behind him, he hears a voice he had hoped he would never hear again. "Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock instantly freezes and his eyes instantly close. "Hello, Sebastian." Sebastian's smile is all teeth and predatorily as he says, "Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

When John exits the restroom, he quickly finds his lanky detective standing near the bar with a man he has never seen before. He notices Sherlock's guarded expression and instantly, John goes into soldier mode. As he slowly makes his way to his beloved, he can hear snippets of the conversation. Words and phrases like, "Soulmate", "Thought you were threadless", and "Mate must be a freak!" quickly reach his ears. The soldier balks at such degrading words and he squares his shoulders. When he reaches his detective and the imposing man in front of him, he clears his throat and stares pointedly at the offending man.

Sherlock's face briefly morphs into an expression of sheer relief when he sees his loving threadmate, but he tampers that down to say, "Sebastian, this is my threadmate, John."

The terrible man snickers and says in a condescending way, "Threadmate?" The soldier stares at the man squarely and replies, "Colleague." The fragile genius drops his gaze to the floor to hide the brief flash of pain that crosses his face. The moment passes quickly, but not before John sees the look.

Wilkes looks at the amateur detective and laughs, "See! I was right." John purses his lips as Sebastian continues, "We were at Uni together. Had this trick he used to do. He could take one look at you and know whom you had slept with and what you had for breakfast." Sherlock, eyes still downcast, quietly murmurs, " It's not a trick." Sebastian carries on as if Sherlock never spoke: "We all thought he was threadless back then… Oh, you poor bloke. I fear what you must go through every day!"

John's tramps down has anger as he calmly states, "Right… Well, we must be going. Come on, Sherlock." Wilkes laughs and his reply is lost as the blogger and sleuth make their way through the crowded club. When they retrieve the intoxicated D.I. they exit the establishment and a familiar black car is waiting on the curb. As soon as they all get inside, the car takes off. Throughout the entire ride, John tries to talk to his love, but Sherlock only stares off into the distance in a trance. Greg, on the other hand would not shut up. When the ride finally ends for Sherlock and John, the sleuth exists quickly while the blogger talks to the chauffer.

When John finally makes his way up the stairs, Sherlock is seen sitting rigidly on the couch with his eyes staring pointedly at the floor. "Sherlock we need to-."

"Is that all I am to you?" Something cold settles along John's spine. Sherlock raises empty eyes toward the doctor, "A colleague?" To John's horror, Sherlock's eyes fill with tears. "They've told me all my life that I am nothing. I was told that I would never have anyone, that I would always be alone…but I had you. Now I see that they were right. How idiotic I've been." Here, Sherlock blinks away his tears and he barks out a self-depreciative laugh. "How could I have been so blind?"

"Sherlock, no. That's not-."

"No, John. That's exactly what it is." Sherlock gets up to storm into his room, but John grabs his hand to stop him. "No, Sherlock. Listen to me! I love you dearly. I didn't say anything to that bloody twit because….well, I didn't want to embarrass you, love. I heard what he was saying to you. In all honesty, I'm terrified that you'll wake up one day and realize how boring I am. I'm an old man. I have scars and I'm just a beast. I'm not as young as I used to be. One day, I won't be able to chase after criminals or jump across roof tops. You shine like the stars. You're brilliant and bright and beautiful. In comparison to you, love, I'm so dull. I often times wonder what you see in me."

The tears have stopped, but Sherlock's voice sounds hollow and distant. "I'm not like other people, John. I'm not good. I'm not kind. I say the wrong things. I'm a freak, a machine. Sebastian's right. You have to put up with a grown man who frequently acts like a child. It's more than anyone should have to bear. I'm not good enough. You are good, decent, and kind. I will never be enough, John."

"My love… No. Sebastian hasn't changed the way I feel for you. I'm so sorry that I didn't stand up for you. I made a disastrous decision and I will regret that for the rest of my life. You are first and foremost the most important thing in my life. You will always come first. I love you for you. That is what I was trying to convey to you this morning. I thought that keeping silent would have been more beneficial to you. I'm sorry you went to school with such ignorant pricks that could not see all of the beauty you posses. You are so good, Sherlock. I'm so proud of who you are and what you've survived through. You've come back to me and for that, I will be forever grateful. In all honesty, love, I don't deserve you."

At that, the ebony genius snaps his full, undivided attention to his soulmate, "How can you say that?" John takes cautious steps forward until he is standing right in front of Sherlock. "Because I am an idiot. You have given me your heart to look after and I have failed you time and time again. I didn't realize what he had done to you. I didn't know that he had made you feel that way and for that, I am so sorry. I truly do love you. You are my entire world. I never want to lose you."

After what seems like an eternity to John, Sherlock's eyes clear and they've lost the hollowed look from before. "Do you really mean that?"

"Always, love. I hope you'll allow me to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you. I am truly sorry. I love you." With that said, the army doctor lifts a hesitant hand toward Sherlock's face and softly asks, "May I touch you Sherlock?"

Sherlock deduces his love's earnestness. 'Furrowed eyebrows, eyes opened wide, hand trembling, and eye contact.' Sherlock reads the sadness and regret John displays, but most of all, there is no falsehood. John means everything he says and he is desperately hoping that Sherlock will see that. The amateur detective's heart had felt broken when his soulmate had denied their connection, but he now he sees what John was trying to do. John was only trying to protect Sherlock from someone the blogger perceived as a threat. With all of this in mind Sherlock makes a decision.

"Yes, John."

The doctor released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he brings his hand up, the rest of the way, to rest on his detective's cheek. Sherlock's eyes flutter closed at the contact and he leans forward to place a soft kiss against his threadmate's lips. When the brief contact is broken, Sherlock murmurs, "I love you too." John's entire body sags with relief. "Thank God! I thought I had lost you. I hope you can forgive me, love."

Sherlock draws the repentant blogger into a warm embrace and then rests his head on golden-grey hair, "You will never lose me. I understand what you were trying to do, and all is forgiven, but you must realize that I had thought that I had lost you. You had denied our connection. I felt as though you agreed with what he said. Back in school, I was just the threadless freak. The threadless freak that was told that he wasn't good enough for his mate. In that moment they were all right. I love you very deeply, John. I don't want to lose you."

Another wave of guilt envelops John as he blinks back tears, "I understand, love. I want you to understand something too…you will never, and I mean NEVER, lose me. I will always love you. That will never change. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid." Sherlock nods, smiles, and places a loving kiss on his threadmate's head.

The sleuth's smile broadens as an idea pops into his head. He slowly extracts himself from the doctor's loving embrace so that he can walk over to his IPod dock. He grabs the remote and presses play. When the music begins to softly play, the besotted ebony haired man walks over to his soulmate, smile spreading across his handsome face, and he gently grasps the doctor's hands. "Our evening was cut short, but may I have this dance?"

An answering smile breaks across the bloggers face as he nods. John quickly finds himself swept away in his lover's sure footwork. The night didn't go according to plan, but John now realizes he didn't need to go out to a club tonight. He was proud of the man he was with and he loved his beautiful threadmate with all his heart.

As if sensing his thoughts, Sherlock bows his head and whispers an, "I love you," against his mate's lips before gently capturing them with his own. This is what the night was missing. He didn't need flashing lights, alcohol, or (to use Sherlock's word) exotic dancers to have a good time. Being in their flat with the man he loved the most, was all the celebration John needed.

Notes: I LIVE! I'm so, so, so, so, so, sososososososososo Sorry! I've been gone for nearly a year! Are any of you still out there? I am terribly sorry, guys. :( If I may offer an excuse, I do have one... So, this past year was my senior year in high school. It was extremely hectic and crazy. I had to prepare myself for college. That was also time consuming and extremely tedious. For those who don't know, I was extremely depressed and suicidal for a long time. A friend of mine (who I happened to be in love with at the time) told me to go commit suicide (he knows that I have trouble with that, by the way), and it really, really set me back a lot. Between getting ready for college and being in emotional turmoil, my life has (to repeat the word) really, really hectic. I hope you all can forgive me! I love you all! I wrote a whole bunch for you all! I double my word count! I hope this helps in the forgiveness process? Anyway, on to the actual notes...

So, I know last chapter I said it would be wedding time... I lied a bit. I started thinking of how cool it would be to write in a Stag Night... The story began writing itself and I got swept away with a certain idea. Next chapter is definitely wedding (and possibly honeymoon). :)

Reviews:

Guest: I hope you like it!
Cantuono: Hehe... I'm sorry for the wait :(. I got really excited with this chapter. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings!
Viridianaln9: I'm glad you do! *hugs*
randomplotbunny: Eh. I'm so sorry. I hope you're not terribly disappointed with this chapter! :(