AN: Oh my gosh I am so so so so sorry! I haven't updated this in the longest time and I feel so horrendously guilty. I also want to tell you that I probably won't be updating this for ages again because I have exams. That's why I haven't been updating recently... REVISION! :(

Also, I have been experimenting with writing for different fandoms and doing things outside of drabbles... For example I'm taking part in this Hugers Games writing thing on tumblr and I have written a one shot for House of Anubis. I swear on my OTP that I am not abondoning Johnlock, nor am I abandoning this fandom, I just want to strecth myself and try out new couples to write abut.

As well I haven't been feeling very motivated to write recently.. I'm not sure why but I just haven't. If you have prompted me, I promise that I will write them but just not at the moment.

I know how short this is and I know that it s probably rubbish but I didn't want to just have an authors note. And seen as though I wrote this I wanted to post it.

I love you all tons and tons and hopefully I'll don my writing boots soon.. (after I pass maths and biology)

Finally, thankyou to everyone who had read, reviewed, alerted and favurited this story. It means a lot:)

-Erin :3 xxx

Promt from: Journey Hates

Lights:

Sherlock woke up with a pounding headache, dripping with sweat and having absolutely no memory of the night before.
"John!" He yelled, rolling out of the bed and falling to the floor. He lost his balance and collapsed, spread-eagled in only his boxers. The door creaked open and John strolled in, looking ten times better than he felt. He ignored the consulting detective who was lying on the floor, simply stepping over him to fling the curtains open. Sherlock groaned and covered his eyes, crawling back into bed and pulling a blanket over his face.
"Do you remember anything that happened last night?" John asked, sitting on the end of Sherlock's bed. "You were really pissed."

Sherlock desperately wracked his brain, attempting to remember anything about the night before. "No." he admitted, shame-faced, curling up into a ball.

"Well," John began, "We went down to the pub with the yarders and had a few beers at first. Then Lestrade invited Molly and you were incredibly rude to her. In your defence, you were quite drunk then but that was no excuse.."

"Should I get her some flowers?"
"What?"
"As an apology."
"Oh yeah, that'd be really nice Sherlock... Where was I?"
"Molly turned up."

"So then me, you, Lestrade, Molly and Donovan came back round here and had a few more beers. Then you had the smart idea of mixing loads of drinks together. You got absolutely hammered. You were dancing around like a drunk giraffe. I got Lestrade, Donovan and Molly home so that was good. And then... Oh, it doesn't matter..."

"Tell me John."

"Well." John flushed bright red before half stuttering, "You kissed me."
Sherlock lifted his head and stared at John with his piercing blue-green-grey eyes. "I kissed you."
"Yeah.. I knew it was stupid.." John said, looking embarrassed and slightly disappointed.
"I kissed you and I don't remember it?"
"Uh, yeah."
"God dammit!" Sherlock yelled, punching the pillow.
"What's wrong?" John asked, leaning closer to his flatmate. Suddenly Sherlock sat up and lurched forwards, pressing his lips to John's, hungrily grabbing the doctor's face in his hands. Then as spontaneously as he started the kiss, he ended it, throwing himself back down and flinging his arm over his eyes.
"John, I have a pounding headache and I can't see. For gods sake please get rid of the lights."