John was jerked from his sleep by a yelp followed by a loud thump. He sighed and muttered obscenities as he got out of his cozy bed. He found his was to the living room to see Sherlock on the floor wrapped tight in the blanked holding his head and wincing.

John laughed from the door frame "Serves you right getting sloshed!" Sherlock was still holding his head making muffled whimpering noises. John sighed and began to untangle the detective.

"Milk." Sherlock said as he was steadied.

John rolled his eyes and looked to Sherlock. "Off to bed then." He helped walk him to his bedroom and lay him on the bed sideways covering him with his sheets. John decided that tonight he would have to be a babysitter. He'd done this before in the army, staying by your drunken friend's side through the night so that they don't choke on their vomit and die. He stole Sherlock's blanket and one pillow and moved his rubbish bin to the side of his bed. Sherlock opened his eyes which were bleary and unfocused.

"John..."

"Yes Sherlock?" He replied yawning and settling into his makeshift bed.

"Thank you…so." He was drifting off. John wanted to be angry with him but he couldn't, he was so innocent and for once not a cold standoffish git.

"It's okay, I know." John closed his eyes and began to drift off.

John began to drift off after a few moments; he figured Sherlock must be stable enough for now.

"John, he was going to hurt you." Sherlock said in a barely there voice from under the sheets.

"Hmn?" He turned to face Sherlock who obviously despite his drunken state was not going to sleep.

"He was going to kill you, in the pool. I was…It was horrifying." The body above him shivered and clutched the sheets more. Sherlock must still be very drunk, this wasn't like him. He never showed much emotion or caring let alone fear, especially for someone else's well being.

"I know, I'm fine though, why are you concerned about this now?" John asked with mild concern.

There was a slight pause. "Why wouldn't it bother me? Isn't it 'normal' to be concerned when something like that happens to someone you.." He paused and looked slightly confused. John smiled to himself. It was a nice change. He knew Sherlock cared for him but he always appreciated the few times when he would show it.

"I know." John said calmly, he knew Sherlock was struggling and that he desperately needed sleep.

"You're my friend and I don't want to lose you." Sherlock began again.\

"I know, it's okay, I'm fine you see?" He sat up to show he was fine, he chuckled to himself and lay his head gently on the side of the bed. "Get some sleep."

Sherlock began blinking rapidly and breathing heavily. John lifted his head and stared at the detective.

"Are you okay?"

Sherlock swallowed and looked away from John.

"I'm fine John. Why wouldn't I be?" He sat up against the headboard and clutched his pillow and glanced at John.

John relaxed seeing that Sherlock was indeed fine and awake. He wouldn't sleep at all tonight. "Are you sleepy or shall we talk?" He said with a sigh lying back down.

Sherlock slid back into the sheets and faced the ceiling.

"Have you anything to talk about?"

John bit his lip as he usually did when he was thinking. He replied that there was nothing he had to say. The two lay in silence. Sherlock turned to John and propped himself up.

"What happened last night…?" Sherlock said with slight concern.

John chuckled "You were sloshed and locked out, I let you in and you passed out on the couch."

Sherlock winced as if remembering that he was indeed hung-over. He clutched his head again.

John chuckled and sat up he saw that his flat mate was out of water.

"It's not funny."

John pushed Sherlock's hair out of his face again before he could think about it. He began blushing and walked out of the room quickly questioning his sanity on the way. Did he really just caress his flat mate? He shook his head trying to forget it and poured the water. When he returned Sherlock was sitting up with the light on staring at him.

"What- Sherlock how are you not sleepy or hurt by this?" John was impressed by Sherlock's ability to handle light and stay awake but he knew the detective needed sleep.

"Im not tired John, I want coffee." The detective got up and stumbled slightly to the door.

"No you don't." John grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders gently and sat him on the bed. "Sleep" he said in his most authoritative voice.

Sherlock frowned. "I…" John shot him a "don't fuck with me" look which apparently worked as the detective lay back down.

John turned off the light and lay back down on the floor.

"I can lay on the floor…" Sherlock said in a small voice.

"Why? It's your room. I'm making sure you won't die." John looked back up to Sherlock who was half hidden in his pillow.

"Why don't you go sleep in your room? I'm fine here." Sherlock replied looking back to John.

John looked to him for a moment as if assessing him. "If you're sure, its no trouble for me to stay."

Sherlock rose quickly and proclaimed that he needed coffee again and began stumbling toward the room. John rolled his eyes and got up; he grabbed the detectives hand and led him back to the bed.

"I will make the coffee." He said with a sigh as he left Sherlock sitting on the bed. A moment later Sherlock followed him out into the kitchen.

"For the love of god Sherlock, go to sleep, you're mad!" He says exasperated.

Sherlock opened the fridge. "We're out of milk." He says in a flat voice.

John cursed quietly and poured the cup silently fuming. "You really should sleep." He said drinking his own cup as if his life depended on it.

"I did sleep John." The detective replied with a slight whine.

John closed his eyes and sighed. "I need to sleep, do you need me?" He looked to Sherlock again. Sherlock shook his head and was staring into his coffee.

"Sure?" John says with slight concern, he had never dealt with a drunken Sherlock, he wasn't sure if he should stay up or not. Sherlock looked so innocent with his slightly flushed skin and his bed head. In truth John didn't mind staying awake with him.

"Yes of course." Sherlock looked up to the doctor. His face was different, softer than its usual cold beauty. "Thank you." His voice was sincere and his eyes were different, he looked grateful, which was completely unlike Sherlock. John was taken aback the two looked to each other for a second before the doctor leaned in slightly without thinking. He caught himself and looked away clearing his throat and going red. What the hell was he doing? What was he about to do? "Right then..." He said quickly leaving the room before he could make the situation any worse. He was tired. That was it, exhaustion made you delirious. Sleep, he needed sleep so he could forget about the horribly embarrassing thing he had almost done. He knew though, in the back of his mind that he wanted it whether he was sleepy or not, however his flat mate was extremely asexual and John wasn't even gay! He rushed to his room and sat on his bed attempting to gain some composure when he heard Sherlock in the door way. John flushed red again and looked up. "Er…yes Sherlock?" He looked down, he couldn't face Sherlock yet. He knew he would be angry. He felt the detectives gaze. He was utterly and completely mortified. Suddenly he felt long fingers lift his chin up. Sherlock leaned in and kissed his quickly before leaving the room faster than John could process what just happened. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes kissing. Sherlock Holmes kissing HIM. John paused for a moment breathing out even though he hadn't remembered holding his breath. He touched his fingers to his mouth softly and blushed all over again. The kiss was warm and soft. When he regained some of his composure he went down to Sherlock's room which was shut up. "Sherlock…?" he said softly leaning in to hear. There was cold silence. John frowned and left feeling ashamed. He climbed back to his room and sat on the bed willing him to not be upset. It was s fluke. Of course a mistake, it was ridiculous to believe such things. He heard footsteps and then Sherlock clearing his throat in the doorway. John sighed. How much more humiliation could he take? He turned to the door hesitantly. Sherlock was standing tall, his usual standoffish self was back.

"I'm um, I'm very sorry. That was rude and disrespectful and…" Sherlock cut off, his voice was cold and professional.

John blushed again and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, no it's…" He was at a loss for words. The detective came into the room further and sunk to the floor.

"I didn't mean to offend you or, I thought…I assumed it would be okay" He sighed heavily and looked down. John was still for a moment frozen. His entire body was on fire. He bit his lip and sunk down to sit across from the detective. Sherlock looked up hesitantly, he looked heartbreakingly sad. John bit his lip again and leaned in quickly before he could stop himself. He placed on hand gently on the detectives face and the other on the back of his head as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Sherlock went rigid and then began to return the kiss with curiosity. John caressed the detective's face softly still kissing him, he then pulled away and sighed. He opened his eyes to see Sherlock going scarlet and blinking like mad.

"Well that…" Sherlock said looking mildly shocked.

John looked down and began shaking his head. "I'm sorry I just, I didn't think." He said quickly and let out a deep breath that he must have been holding. He was going scarlet again as he wished for the floor to swallow him whole. There was a pause.

"We're out of milk." Sherlock said calmly.

John began breathing heavily against his will for control. "Yes er, I will go and er..." He stood up and took a deep breath squaring his shoulders. He had been rejected before. He knew he must bow out as gracefully as he could. He cleared his throat and swallowed. "Wont…" he paused swallowing as he looked down into the detectives eyes. "Wont happen again." He stood for a moment then turned to the door.

"It's okay." Sherlock said calmly. John closed his eyes and swallowed again. He really couldn't take anymore of this.

"Yes, fine. Its fine, accidents happen." He walked to the door again trying to keep some composure, any really.

"Oh…well of course its only natural. Y-you have Mary and I. Never mind. This, well…" The detective broke off. His voice was composed it sounded sad. John stopped confused. Why on earth would Sherlock be sad? He shook his head "Yes, right.' He mumbled before the detective could say anything more. He turned again when he felt a cool hand grab his. He turned around confused and before he could speak Sherlock's mouth was pressed gently again his, his hand hesitantly on his waist. John leaned into the kiss and returned it.