The Sociopath Society

Chapter 16

Authors note

This chapter has a tad of romance beyond kissing, sort of. Nothing beyond PG-13 I don't think. Also this is written by a fifteen year old who has never kissed and whose only experience is from reading Johnlock smut. So yeh.

Also I'd really like to dedicate this to Ayleen! It was chatting to her that pushed me to write loads of Johnlock at the end even if she didn't realise it :P Thanks! Also to purple tortoise/Becca for all her help correcting things! Thanks guys!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 16

New Years’ Love? Bit confusing

“Come on, Sherlock, people will be arriving soon. Stop being a grump and come downstairs with me.” Sherlock shook his head stubbornly, arms folded. He sat on the mattress that had been his makeshift bed since arriving at John’s all battered. He was recovering well, though. It didn’t hurt at all. He was used to pain.

But now John was forcing him to attend some stupid New Years Eve party. Ugh. He had to wear something nice and everything. Unfortunately for him after fleeing his house Mycroft had managed to track him down which resulted in an unwelcome village. Mycroft had even pretended to be concerned. Bleh. Bringing over his experiments and some more clothes. Which meant Sherlock had plenty of nice ones to choose form.

“I don’t want to.” Sherlock scowled. He was wearing what he always did, which was more formal than what most wore anyway. John wore a checked shirt and jersey, which he looked so cute in.

“Come on, Sher!” John strode over to him and grabbed his hand, yanking him up. “If you don’t I’ll force you to move into the spare room.” Sherlock’s eyes suddenly to John. Now that was a threat he didn’t like. Loathe as he was to admit it the only reason he wasn’t having nightmares, as he often did after being in contact with his father, was John’s presence at night. Sherlock hated the bad dreams he had. Just reminded him of the weakness of emotion. That horrible thing. Fear.

“Fine, I’ll attend,” Sherlock narrowed his eyes s John grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the door. “But I’m not promising to be nice to anyone.”

John chuckled. “You don’t have to be.” The sudden annoying ringing sound that was the doorbell infiltrated Sherlock’s ears.

“That’s the first person!” John grinned, running down the stairs with Sherlock in tow.

Sherlock grumbled under his breath as he sat on a chair in John’s kitchen drinking a glass of lemonade. Music blared from the room next door and the silhouettes of those dancing could just be seen. Sherlock had been surprised at the amount of people invited out with John’s tight friendship group. Thankfully none were in the kitchen, leaving him to his thoughts. They were all dancing or outside. Drinking most like.

God Sherlock needed a smoke. The last thing he wanted to do was venture into backyard were a horde of drunk teens awaited. Nor did he want to do it in John’s house; betray his trust. One hand clenched the other reached into the pocket where his cigarettes were. It had been a struggle keeping up his daily habit when in the Watson’s household. But he had managed. Ignoring John’s worry but fearing deep down inside that he was disgusted.