A/N: So the final chapter! Hope you've enjoyed the story. Here is some drunk!Sherlock for your enjoyment :)
Chapter 4: You're A Doctor
John didn't come back to the flat for another four days. John had spent the time at Lestrade's, trying to sort out the thoughts in his head and trying to get over Sherlock's disgusting experiment. Sherlock on the other hand, spent his time drinking himself into a permanent state of drunken idiocy.
"I'm only here to get some of my stuff" John stated quickly, not looking at Sherlock.
"Jawwwwn, you're back" Sherlock slurred, clutching the bottle of vodka.
"Are you…Are you drunk?"
"I dunno, I hav'bun drinkin all the vodkaa since you left" Sherlock staggered over to John, tripping over several vodka bottles on the way "I tried to think of a way to show you that I love you"
"Okay" was all that John could say.
"Look at ma eyessss" Sherlock said, tapping his cheekbone and pointing to his eye. "They dilate cuzzz you're heree again" He picked up John's hand and placed it over his heart "can you feel how fast it's beating?"
The two men were now face to face, so close that their lips were almost touching. Sherlock leant forward and softly brushed his lips over John's. "I love you" he said into John's lips.
"Go to sleep. I'll speak to you when you're sober" John smiled weakly, pulling away and slinging Sherlock's arm over his shoulder to help him to his bedroom.
The next morning, after Sherlock had caught up on some sleep, he awoke with the worst hangover known to man. He could barely remember starting to drink and wondered how he even made it to bed. He needed some painkillers. Now.
"When did you get back?" Sherlock asked, holding his nose up in disgust.
"Yesterday afternoon. You were very drunk"
"Obviously"
"Do you remember anything"
"I assume something happened then?"
"You tried to prove that you 'love me', or so you said"
"...And did it work?"
"You were drunk, it doesn't count" John stated coldly.
"Well then, let's repeat the experiment." Sherlock said, bringing John's hand to his neck, "You're a doctor, take my pulse"
"It's a bit high... racing in fact.."
"You're a doctor, tell me about my pupils"
"...um... they seem a bit too dilated for the amount of light in this room..."
"You're a doctor, what's wrong with my breathing?"
"A tiny bit too fast, considering level of physical activity..."
"You're a doctor, what does it mean?"
"Physical attraction"
"And if what I told you about my feelings yesterday are taken into account?"
"Love"
John's hand, which was resting on Sherlock's neck, snaked around further and pulled Sherlock's lips to his own. There weren't fireworks, or explosions, or singing angels. There wasn't anything different about this kiss. But it was perfect. It held all of the months of unrequited love and all of the tension between them. It held all of the unspoken words and all of the spoken ones too. It was just... perfect.