Running late from the clinic, John hurried in the ever present London rain to the Red Dragon. Normally John wouldn't dream of dragging Sherlock out into a crowd on a game night but he figured Sherlock owed him for the blowtorch incident. Payment would include buying pints and keeping John company as he cheered on Chelsea.
Finally reaching the pub, John opened the door only to stop short in the entranceway.
"Hey, mate, watch it," came a gruff voice as a burly man pushed him aside. John moved over slightly as he took in the scene in front of him in heartbroken shock. Through the hazy smoke, he could see reflected in the bar mirror the back of a tall man with raven hair in a long dark coat enthusiastically snogging another man.
He could not imagine Sherlock cheating on him under any circumstances, let alone now that they'd finally admitted their love for each other.
John tore his eyes away when he felt long arms wrapping around him. A beloved baritone voice said, "I'm sorry I'm late. You don't want to know why but don't open the kitchen door."
John turned in Sherlock's arms. "Oh, love," he breathed, his joy overflowing as he kissed Sherlock.
"That's not your usual reaction to my experiments," Sherlock laughed as he kissed him back.