Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

When John came back to the flat after a long night out, it was clear he was drunk. And not the normal drunk that Sherlock knew how to deal with. John was good at holding his liquor so Sherlock surmised that night must have cost a small fortune. He slumped down on the couch, ignoring Sherlock who was standing by the window, violin poised for playing. Sherlock was used to the drunken declarations of love that he was showered with by John. He was, however, not used to tears. Upon further inspection, he realized the drunk was crying.

"John." He murmured, putting down his instrument. "Tell me what happened." His voice was a soft rumble as he sat cross-legged in front of the couch. John sniffled and looked at the man on the floor before him.

"I told Greg I was bi so he took me to a gay bar." John said in a shaky voice.

"Were they mean to you?" Sherlock guessed. Somehow, with John drunk he became Sherlock the sweet, understanding friend, leaving behind Sherlock the freak consulting detective. John would become the tell-all, giggling maniac that never remembered in the morning.

"People bought me drinks." John sobbed desperately. Sherlock worried Mrs. Hudson might come see what was wrong, worried about the reason John was wailing so…loudly.

"And…that's bad?" Sherlock asked a bit incredulously.

"Yes!" John shouted. Sherlock knew, if Mrs. Hudson were coming to check on them, that probably warded her away with plenty of inappropriate ideas filling her head. The brunette wondered how John stayed so articulate when he was as drunk as he was.

"I don't understand." Why is that a bad thing?" Sherlock asked.

"I didn't want them to buy me drinks." John shouted. Sherlock cringed at 'them.' Did he mean gay guys?

"Did Lestrade not pay?" Sherlock asked. Did John mean he didn't want gay guys to buy him drinks? Guys like Sherlock?

"That's not what I meant Sherlock!" John wailed. Sherlock stayed silent as his drunken friend resumed sobbing. "Greg made me drink them all!" John mumbled.

"Who did you want to buy you drinks?" Sherlock asked, not wanting to know the answer.

"You!" John shouted as he pushed himself from the couch and onto Sherlock. The sober of the two, hadn't expected the answer, and had definitely not expected John to quite literally throw himself at Sherlock.

"Even though I'm gay?" Sherlock asked, looking up at John who was laying on top of him.

"Yeah. Of course. Why would I have a problem with that?" John asked incredulously before his face contorted and he seemed to be thinking hard. As last he seemed to have figured out the subject of his pondering. "When I said I didn't want them to buy me drinks I meant I wanted you to buy me drinks. No one else." John explained. Sherlock smiled. "Too many clothes." John mumbled as he began struggling with their clothes. Sherlock stilled his hands.

"Not like this." Sherlock said, causing John to pout. "I want you sober so you know what you're doing." Sherlock said, knowing John would have forgotten all this when he had woken in the morning. John smiled and nodded, putting his head down on Sherlock's chest. Sherlock sighed and put his arms around John's waist. "Please remember" Sherlock whispered before they fell asleep.