Addicted to you (Johnlock fanfiction)

Chapter five

Holy frick 500+ reads what when did that happen.

Again a big thank you to angiwangi for reading/editing and giving this feedback, it means a lot girly thank you xx

After Sherlock ran off John stood in the exact same spot for what seemed like an hour, replaying what just happened in his mind. John was angry at Sherlock for using again but he couldn't deny that he'd forgive him in a heartbeat if he came out he and kissed him again. John thought of the way Sherlock's Cupid bow sculpted lips fitted so perfectly against his own. Sherlock's mouth could be a drug of John's own. He could still feel Sherlock's fingers digging into his hips and Sherlock's mouth on his neck.

John was not really sure why he stood there but a tiny part of him was holding onto the hope that Sherlock would return and kiss him and pretend he never left. But Sherlock's room was silent- had been for a long time- so John sighed and turned to the stairs. Sherlock's words haunted him as he miserably made his was upstairs and crawled into bed. He'd said that he'd wanted John for so long. John has wanted Sherlock for so long, he's wanted him since the day he met him (if the things he said on the dinner they shared together on that first night was any indication) but has been too shy to confess to Sherlock how much he really loves him and cares for him, could Sherlock have meant the same thing?

John didn't even bother having a shower, he just slid straight into bed, still fully clothed. He hugged a pillow to his chest and curled into a tight ball, feeling sleepy but not ready to sleep- he was still hight with adrenalin after the moment he and his detective shared.

"You idiot, Watson." He growled to himself, burying his face in his pillow wanting to scream his throat raw. Sherlock is a sociopath, an addict, and most of the time an utter arsehole. Yet John had let himself fall in love with him. Every cell in his body wanted Sherlock, he wanted Sherlock to be his and not share him with anyone. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning and then go solve crimes together. He wanted to have stupid fights about what television show they watch or whether to have Tai or Indian for dinner. He wanted to coax a more human side out of man- to see the real Sherlock, the man behind the cold mask.

But deep down John knew this would never work.

John is straight (maybe?) and Sherlock is married to his work. That's how it's always have been, and one stupid kiss while Sherlock was high isn't going to change that.

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The next morning John slept in and then hung around his room on his computer for a few hours, not quite ready to face Sherlock. It would be too awkward. Sherlock was high, he probably didn't mean anything he did or said. If John goes to broach the subject Sherlock will surly brush him off coldly and tell him he's out of his mind for thinking it actually meant something.

Trying to distract himself, John finished writing and posted their latest case on his blog. It was quite a boring case but as usual Sherlock brilliantly solved the case with a cheeky smile and a sparkle in his eyes.

Great. Now I'm thinking about Sherlock again, John thought numbly.

Defeated, John shut his laptop and decided to finally face his fears. He grabbed some clean clothes, planning to have a shower since he skipped one last night, then slowly made his was downstairs. Sherlock sat at the kitchen with his head in his hands, his fingers pressed to his temples as though his head was in pain. One look at the man and John wanted to run back up to his room and hide forever, maybe Mrs Hudson would even bring him food every now and then if he did stay up there forever. John decided to have a shower before he confronted his flatmate.

The doctor crept past Sherlock carefully to not make a sound and tip toed into the bathroom. He took his time in the shower, still not prepared to face Sherlock. What would he say? Once John was clean and dressed he reluctantly walked back into the kitchen. The younger man was in the exact same position he was in before, making John frown as he walked past him to the kettle.

"Morning." John said with he back to Sherlock, almost choking on the single word. The man behind him grunted in response. John's starred down at his hands and noticed he was shaking. To distract himself he set to making tea. He out the kettle on the fetched two mugs and two bags of English Breakfast, putting two spoons of sugar in Sherlock's cup.

"How do you feel?" John asked, avoiding the topic that had been nagging at him ever since he woke up.

"Like I was thrown off a building then run over by a train." Sherlock mumbled. Usually John would laugh at Sherlock's sassy words but he was too nervous. The kettle ticked and John poured the boiling water into the two mugs then took them to the table, placing one in front of Sherlock who mumbled something like a thank you.

Sherlock quickly brought the cup up to his lips and drank the whole thing in only a few gulps despite how hot the beverage was. John quirked his eyebrow but looked back down at his hands fiddling nervously.

"Look, John. About last night... I'm sorry." Sherlock said looking at John. He looked almost...guilty.

"Oh- uh- it's fine. I know you didn't mean it." John mumbled then took a sip of his hot tea so he didn't say something he wasn't supposed to.

"What? Of course I meant to do it."

"What?" John's eyebrows shot up, "you did? Well I uh- I- I'm...flattered." Sherlock eyed John suspiciously, mouth agape.

"You're flattered that I used drugs?..." The man said slowly as if trying to wrap his head around it. By now John realised that they were having two different conversations.

"How- how much do you remember from last night?" He asked slowly.

"Well, we had a fight and you left because you were angry with me and I was upset and I've been craving it for so long so I... You know... And then you came home and yelled at me." The detective said quietly as if it pained him to remember it. John was sure his mouth was hanging on the table. Sherlock didn't remember.

"Anything else?"

"No. Why? What did I do?" he panicked.

"Nothing! You ah- you just were pretty out of it so I made you go to bed." John hated lying to Sherlock but he didn't want to tell him the truth either. What would he say? 'Oh you just snogged me against the wall and told me you want to fuck me. No big deal.'

Sherlock's expression softened at John's words, then he reached over and grabbed John's tea out of his hands and drank it also.

"Hey!" John exclaimed trying to snatch it back but he was too late.

"Sorry. I've got a headache and tea always seems to dull the pain." Sherlock mumbled then rested his forehead against the table. "I am sorry, John. I shouldn't have done it, it was stupid. I know you don't like that sort of stuff." He murmured against the wood of the table. John reached over and petted Sherlock's inky curls soothingly.

"It's okay. Just don't... Don't do it again. Please." Sherlock nodded numbly and John thought that maybe it was going to be alright between them.

A/N But is not going to be alright hahahhahahahahahahahahahahha *laughter slowly turns into gross sobbing*

I know it probably seems like it's getting boring but bear with me, it is only just the beginning *evil grin*