1000 Ways To Say...

Chapter 16

(AN: I haven't fully abandoned you, although it's been like, two months. Thanks to the deep dark depths of hell (school) and some particular people there. What I'm basically telling u is that I'm super sorry and I want to update this so I can get on a roll. Finally, I'm going to update!!)

John

The sun was setting by the time Sherlock was actually ready to leave the flat. I'd already told him jokingly that it would be midnight by the time we left.

"Come on, we're going!" I shout to him from the hall. Finally, Sherlock emerged from his bedroom wearing a black shirt and some jeans.

Yes, jeans.

"What the hell are you wearing jeans for?" I exclaim, gesturing to his legs.

"Just thought I'd change it up a bit." He says plainly, heading downstairs for the door.

Ok, I have to admit it was a good change from the formal things he wears all the time. I snapped out of my daydream and headed out the door myself.

The first bar was filling up rapidly with younger people. We'd already had quite a few drinks by the time people were already stumbling across the floor.

"Bit early for drinks, eh lads?" A man sat down on the barstool next to me, laughing slightly.

"Uh, no. Actually, 89% of people on a Friday night start drinking earlier than any other day. Hard to explain why-"

I cleared my throat and Sherlock gave me a look as to say sorry. By the time I turned around again, the man had left.

"Oops." Sherlock whispers as he finishes his drink.

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As the night went on, we got around all the bars that we wanted to go to. This was our last stop.

"You... Sure about this...?" Sherlock says, his words slightly slurred.

I laugh a little. "Nope. I think we're drunk enough, but what the hell."

The bar was lit up with disco lights and blaring music with too much bass. There was a large group of people jumping up and down to the beat of the music. Sherlock grabbed my hand and led me to the middle.

"Dance with me, John!" He shouts, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. The blaring bass-y music faded out, and a slow song came on.

"You've got to be kidding." I mumble under my breath. I wasn't good at slow dancing.

"Make this a practice run?" Sherlock says quietly.

I put my hands around his waist, not really knowing where to put my hands or what to do with my legs. Obviously we aren't sober enough to be serious, so we end up stumbling over each other and pinching each other's butts. So much for a practice run.

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It was about two in the morning when we arrived back at the flat.

"Joooooooooooooohn." Sherlock moans, pouting his bottom lip slightly. He crashes on the couch.

"You took my bloody spot." I say, pointing at him. He doesn't budge when I try to push I him off.

"Our wedding's in six days, John. And look at us! Stuck here at 2am diddly squat drunk. Now, come over here. We can share the damn couch."

(AN: hope that makes up for a few months. More chapters to come, in fact the next few chapters are going to be the wedding! This is exciting. Also, has anyone read The Maze Runner series/seen the move? Would anyone be interested in a fic for that?? I'll be back soon :D)