Sherlock likes to drink alcohol, whereas John does not. No, no. Sherlock likes to drink alcohol after he's solved a great case, sort of celebratory. It wasn't like he did it all the time, John really had nothing to complain about. But sometimes he did.

It all started on a crime scene, when Sherlock was being Sherlock and for some reason, that day it just annoyed the shit out of John. When Sherlock finished his explanation and called everyone an idiot, John stood up and walked off the scene. Sherlock didn't go after him, not that John expected him to, so John went home. A few hours later, Sherlock came back and was completely drunk.

John doesn't like drunk Sherlock. He was stupid and childish and not in Sherlock's right mind. When he stumbled into the flat, John woke up and helped him up the stairs and to bed.

"Sherlock, how much did you have to drink?"

"A thou-thand drink-th."

"What kind?"

"A thou-thand kind-th."

"Who did you drink with?" John pushed Sherlock onto the bed and was taking his shoes off.

"Gabe."

"Who is Gabe?"

"The man at the bar."

John sighed, "Was Gabe nice?"

"Oooooooooooh, ye-th."

"What does that mean?"

"Gabe i-th ni-the. Very, very ni-the."

John chuckled at Sherlock's drunken lisp. "What did Gabe do that was so nice?"

"He gave me a ki-thhh."

"He what? He kissed you?"

"Ye-th."

"How?"

"He," Sherlock pointed at John, then pointed away from John at a space of the room that was to symbolize Gabe, "Pre-thhhed hi-th lip-th again-tht mine." He pressed his own finger against his lips. "And put hi-th tongue in my mouth." Sherlock stuck his tongue out, revealing it to be lime green. John's stomach turned in the thought that someone else's tongue was also bright green, then he realized that's not how it worked.

"How long did this kiss last?"

"I'll th-ow you." Sherlock pulled at John's head and stuck his tongue into John's mouth.

"No, no," John pulled away, "I don't want you to show me."

"You don't want to ki-th me?"

"No, I don't want to."

"I-th it becau-the Gabe ki-thed me?"

"No. N-yes, Sherlock, it is. Why did you let someone else kiss you?"

"Are you jealou-th?"

"No."

"Johnny'-th jealou-th."

"I am not, now lift your arms." John pulled a gray t-shirt over Sherlock's head.

"Johnny, don't be jealou-th. I am your'-th. Wait, am I Gabe'-th now?"

"No, Sherlock. You are mine. You shouldn't be kissing Gabes."

"Oop-th." Sherlock looked sad. "I need to call John."

"I'm right here, Sherlock."

"I need to call you."

"Why?"

"To tell you I love you."

"Just tell me right now. You don't need to call me."

"No. Phone."

"No, Sherlock. Bed." John pushed Sherlock onto the bed and pulled the blankets over him. "Goodnight."

"John?"

John was pulling his pants off to get into bed with Sherlock, even though he didn't really want to. He wasn't tired any more, nor did he want to be in bed with a drunk man. "What, Sherlock?" John asked, annoyed.

"I'm th-orry Gabe ki-thhhed me."

"Was it your fault, Sherlock? Did you kiss Gabe? Because usually you don't apologize unless it was your fault."

"Oh, I don't know, Johnny. All I know i-th I love you, and your tongue i-th making me hot."

"My tongue is making you hot? How?"

"I can th-ee it, and I want it to touch me."

"You want my tongue to touch you?"

"Ooooooooooooooooh, ye-thhhhhh." Sherlock's hips thrust upward at nothing.

"No, Sherlock. I'm not doing anything to you. You're drunk, it'd be just wrong."

"Not if I want it, Johnny. I want your tongue on my thhh-kin," he thrust his hips up again, then moaned. He pushed the blankets off of himself, revealing his massive erection.

John stared for a minute, then snapped out of his trance. "No, Sherlock. I'm not."

"You don't want me?" Sherlock sounded sad.

"Of course I do, baby, I just can't. Not when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"You're very drunk."

"I'm hot, John. I have thi-thh burning in my th-omach. Make it go away."

"How? Do you need to throw up?"

"No, touch me." Sherlock's hips thrust again.

John went to Sherlock's bedside. He leaned over him and said, "No."

Sherlock was a lot quicker than John thought he'd be. Sherlock sat up almost instantly, pulling John tight between his legs. One of his hands went behind John's head, and pulled John towards his own face. As he kissed John, his other hand was trying to pull John's underwear down.

"No, no, Sherlock."

"You're ju-tht th-o th-ek-thi. I have to need you, now."

Something about Sherlock's lisp was sexy to John, even though he had no idea what it was. He was upset with Sherlock; upset about that afternoon, upset about him being drunk, upset about him kissing Gabe. But at the same time, Sherlock was hugely irresistible. He couldn't help it. He pushed Sherlock onto the bed and got on top of him, between his legs.

Sherlock kissed John for a few minutes, then he broke away to bite John's neck. "John, do you think Gabe wanted to do thi-th to me?"

"Shut up, Sherlock."

Silent kissing.

"John, would you beat up Gabe if he did thi-th to me?"

"Stop talking, Sherlock."

More silent kissing.

"John, it hurt-th."

"What hurts, baby?"

Sherlock thrust his hips up, grinding himself against John. He let out a moan of relief, "That felt gooooood."

He did it again, and moaned again. Pretty soon he was doing nothing but moving his lower body against John's, making loud moaning and groaning sounds with each bit of contact.

"No, no, Sherlock. Stop moving, I'm going to do-"

"NO, Johnny. Let me, it hurt-th, I need to-"

"Stop, Sherlock, I'll do something else and we'll both-"

"No time, Johnny, it hurt-th, I have to cum or el-the it'-th going to fall off."

"It's not going to fall off, just slow down and let me-" John pulled Sherlock's underwear down enough to touch him, but Sherlock quickly flipped John over and was now on top.

He pulled his underwear down past his butt, and began thrusting against John again. John was begging him to stop, to let him do everything, but Sherlock ignored him. Sherlock wrapped his own hand around his erection and began thrusting into it, while still on top of John.

It didn't last long after that. Sherlock let go and came all over John's stomach, moaning John's name as loud as he could. John tried his best to touch himself while Sherlock was coming, but he wasn't quick enough. Sherlock rolled off of him and laid next to him while John was still touching himself.

"Sherlock, come on, help me."

"No, Johnny. I don't want to touch you."

"But you just-"

"No, I don't want to."

"Do something else then."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just-" John was too busy now. He didn't care if Sherlock did anything. He hadn't had sex in almost three weeks. He was in no mood to wait around for Sherlock.

Sherlock watched silently for a minute or two, then a wide grin flashed across his face and he got as close to John as possible. His lips were right next to John's ear, and as John thought Sherlock was going to begin licking him, Sherlock moaned instead.

The sound of Sherlock moaning went straight between John's legs. Sometimes, nothing was sexier than Sherlock moaning. Sherlock could moan out of boredom and it'd make John perk up, just a little.

Sherlock continued to moan. He moaned John's name, he moaned at different speeds and pitches.

Then, he began to talk. "Come on, John. Cum all over your-thelf like I ju-tht did." He moaned. "John, you're th-o big, I bet you couldn't even fit in me right now." He moaned louder. "John…fuuuuuuuuuuck." He more or less whispered the last word, but it was sexy as hell to John.

John looked at Sherlock and stuck his tongue in Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock pulled John's hand off himself and took hold of John, moving his arm at the same pace John was. In no time, literally seconds, John was coming all over his own stomach. He arched his back, moaned Sherlock's name, and fell back onto the bed.

"Oh, I love you, Sherlock. I love you."

"I love you, John."

"Do you feel better?"

"Ye-th. No more hot."

"Good."

They laid in bed, ready to go to sleep.

"Sherlock," John began, "Why did you kiss Gabe?"

"He bought me a drink."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Ye-th."

"Did you want to have sex with Gabe?"

"Nooooo, I want to have th-ekth with you."

"Are you sure? Just me?"

"Ju-tht you, forever."

"Even when you drunk kiss other men?"

"Even when I ki-thhh men other drunk."

John laughed. He didn't like when Sherlock drank alcohol, but next time he was sure to accompany Sherlock.