John's POV

Sherlock and I were walking out the bar, holding hands. It was late, and cold, but the flat was only a five minute walk away so there was no point in getting a cab. We turned the corner, and saw a group of neds. I tighten my grip around Sherlock's hand. They always made me feel uncomfortable, in their hoodies and trackies.

One of them turned, and saw us.

"Oh my God, look at those queers,"

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows as the other's, about five of them, began to laugh loudly.

"Fuckin' fag," Another said.

Sherlock began to walk over to them.

"Sherlock leave it," I begged. I was tired, and my shoulder was acting up. I couldn't be bothered with a fight tonight.

"No,"

The neds sniggered, "Having a wee domestic, are we, yah poofs?"

Then I noticed one of them was holding a brick.

Sherlock's POV

"Sherlock, come on, don't say anything, they have a brick," John pulled at my sleeve.

"No, John," I pulled my arm back and glanced at the boy closest to us. It was quite easy to deduce his life story purely from his bright red track suit. "Hmmm. Secretly gay, abusive father, alcoholic mother, should I continue?"

"What the fuck?" The red track suited boy said. Someone else swore.

"Messin' with us, are you?"

That's when I saw the brick hurling past my head.

I spun sharply.

"JOHN!"

A/N: Many apologised for the short, shitty chapter. But I'm battling a massive writers block, so don't be hating.

Also, if there is any situations you want to see the characters get into, you can request it!