School is boring. I wrote this at school, a handwritten note was passed to me from a friend at the front of class and I wrote this all in one day.

Drunk!John :D I needed some lighthearted fluff

Prompt
John gets drunk and writes on his blog about how he's in love with Sherlock Holmes; obviously Sherlock reads it, and responds unexpectedly

John smiled and downed the last of his beer, it was his... Ninth? He'd lost track, but he felt better for it. After that horrific row with Sherlock, he needed to get drunk into oblivion to feel better. He had a feeling he'd sent some texts to Sarah but he wasn't sure. Somewhere between his fifth and seventh beer he'd whipped out his phone and texted people, drunk texting never was his forte. Then he texted Sherlock, he remembered that, calling him a prick and pompous and self-assured. He'd felt better, but now he was tired and just wanted to sleep. He stumbled along the pavement, leaning against walls to stay upright. From outside Baker Street he could hear the violin and he smiled.

"Sherlock?" He called as he came upstairs, grinning stupidly.

"You're drunk." Sherlock wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Assuming you don't die of alcohol poisoning by the morning, I'll talk to you when you're sober." He swept imperiously into his room and locked the door behind him. John sniffed and laughed, reaching for his laptop that Sherlock had hacked, he recalled an earlier conversation "Not exactly Fort Knox..." and smiled, resolving to change the password in the morning. He didn't mind really, but he was bored and opened up his blog, writing a post:

Sherlock Holmes is the most annoying man ever

A few minutes later, still drunk but coherent, he typed another

But I love him, quite a bit actually.

Then he closed the laptop, but felt a prickle of unease at leaving it like that so he wrote one more post

It must look like I got hacked, which, should it happen is a bit not good. But I wasn't.
I do, in fact, love Sherlock Holmes.
And I hate myself for it

Then, feeling better about offloading, he stumbled up to his bedroom and lay, fully clothed, on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

He woke up twelve hours later, his head pounding

"Drinking was a bad idea..." He muttered as he stood up, the room swimming around him.

"I'd say the opposite." Came a familiar drawl from the corner of his room.

"Sherlock what the hell are you doing?" John sat up, wincing as the sudden movement sent lancing pain across his temples.

"Well I thought you'd welcome the company. Particularly since you're about to-" Sherlock didn't finish that sentence, John had been steadfastly ignoring the nausea but it was too much and he ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Sherlock's lips curved up in a wry smile, and he opened the bathroom door, leaning against the doorframe. "Knew it."

"Piss off."

"That's not nice, John." His mouth was still infuriatingly curved into a smile, and John, feeling the repercussions of his hangover, did not appreciate it at all.

"You're not being nice."

"Nice is dull." John groaned and rested his head on the bath.

"Is there a purpose to you being here other than to watch me suffer?"

"Sort of, I suppose."

"Oh do enlighten me, what is it?" Sherlock's mouth curved up into a wry grin.

"Your blog makes good reading."

"What does that- oh." John frowned and then let out a quiet groan at the look of amusement on Sherlock's face.

"'I do, in fact, love Sherlock Holmes' Really John, how you can be so coherent when drunk is amazing."

"Oh... That..." He lowered his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"They say you're most honest when drunk." Sherlock opened his eyes wide, John was checking for any sign of deceit or trickery.

"Would it... Change anything if I was?" Sherlock sighed and sat next to John on the floor.

"I'd... Like it to." John screwed up his eyes and looked at him, his head cocked in confusion.

"What does that... Am I just being an idiot?"

"Yes, but everyone is, so it's okay." Sherlock stared at the floor, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

"Sherlock what did you mean? I can't think... My head hurts and I feel like I'm going to throw up, everything's a little muzzy last night."

"If you meant what you said last night; then I'd like it to change, how we are." It made no sense but somehow John understood.

"Is this the great Sherlock Holmes admitting that he has a high probability of wanting a relationship with me?"

"I believe so." Sherlock spoke softly, his hand flexing on the tiled floor.

"Then... Does anything have to change?" Sherlock looked up, a little confused.

"What... John I'm not good at this kind of thing, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that nothing has to change, not a lot anyway. No sudden change. Take this slowly."

"Slowly... So you want a relationship with me too?" Sherlock's face was open and hopeful.

"If we take this slowly." John emphasised the 'if' and looked down at Sherlock's long fingered hand, pale and almost ethereal on the floor. Sherlock was at a loss for words really, and he looked up at John, watching for any sign that he wasn't being sincere. John seemed to notice this, and he moved his hand next to Sherlock's, so that their little fingers were touching, hardly at all.

"Is this really what you want?" Sherlock asked him after a few moments like that.

"More than anything." Came the reply, John's hangover seemed on the wane now, and he moved his hand so that it was on top of Sherlock's, only lightly resting, it took a lot of control. Sherlock initiated it, the clasping of hands, their fingers tangling together.

"Then I want it to." They smiled at one another and John leaned his head against Sherlock's shoulder

"I should get drunk more often." Sherlock just laughed and held John's hand like a lifeline.

Yay for lighthearted fluff :D

Review if you have the time~