Sherlock had pestered him even more than usual the rest of the day. He'd had to make tea several times, as Sherlock would drink it like a normal person would breathe. He'd also had to fetch him everything from a spoon to his own laptop.
He'd also send several messages. For Sherlock. He'd cleaned some of the mess. That Sherlock had made. He'd generally been busy doing everything and nothing for Sherlock all day.
But he was finally leaving. Pulling his jacket onto one arm, he leaned into the kitchen. "Sherlock, I'm going now." He said. Sherlock barely lifted his head, but just continued staring at the microwave. "Have fun, John." He said, shrugging lightly. John paused, studying Sherlock slightly. "Are you okay?" He asked carefully. Sherlock nodded.
"Now go have fun." Sherlock said. John blinked a few times. "Are you sure? I don't have to go. Are you alright?" he looked with worry at Sherlock.
"Go." Sherlock said sternly.
John jumped at the tone, then nodded to himself. "I will. See you later. Be nice. I won't be late..." He trailed off, and the turned and left.
"So you made it, John!" Lestrade commented as John approached their table at the pub.
Molly smiled, and waved. She then stretched slightly to the side, craning her neck as if to see someone behind Watson. "Sherlock isn't coming." John commented as he sat down next to Anderson and a woman he didn't know. Molly's shoulders sagged a bit, but she kept her smile up. "Oh" Molly said, "but great to see you John. I guess you know us." She gestured to herself, Anderson and Lestrade. John nodded, sipping the bear he'd just ordered.
Molly then turned to the unknown woman. "This is Riley, she's a friend of mine. I hope you don't mind her joining us?" She asked John nice. John smiled at Riley, nodding his head politely, and shaking her hand. "I'm John Watson."
Riley giggled, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she did. "Well, this is the famous Watson then. The second half of the Holmes and Watson duo. I'm impressed." She said flirtily. John smiled back, feeling embarrassed. "Well it isn't really like that..."
The door slammed open, and John stumbled inside.
Drunk. Clearly drunk.
His clothes were rumpled, and his face flushed. A smear of lipstick was showing just below his left ear. Pink. She'd clearly been on the older side. 45.
The smear indicated that He'd not been into it. He'd moved as she was kissing him. He'd wanted someone else.
John leaned on the doorframe, trying to force his jacket off. His eyes flashed to Sherlock.
He was embarrassed, though the flush on his cheeks were from the liquor.
"Sh-Sherly-Sherlylock..." John muttered, stumbling into the living room. He caught himself on the back of the armchair, just as Sherlock rose. Sherlock picked up the cup of cold tea John had left him on the coffee table earlier.
"John, my tea is cold." Sherlock said without much emotion.
John's eyes sprang to the cup, and then to Sherlock's face. He straightened, stumbled, and fell forward.
He landed on top of Sherlock, the cup of tea flying across the room. John breathed heavily, with his cheek pressed against the bared chest of Sherlock. A few seconds passed. Sherlock blinked. John lifted himself up, slightly. He stared at Sherlock.
He breathed heavily. Sherlock blinked.
Slowly, John closed the distance.
Their lips met.
Beer. A shot of whiskey. Then a swish of Schweppes lemon to clear his breath. John's lips were soft for a man who'd been in the army.
They kissed, slowly. John's breath was minty. He'd used Sherlock's toothpaste again.
"Sherlock..." John moaned, his tongue sliding over his teeth. He'd been eating a mint pastille before he'd left. Trying to make his breath as good as possible. For a woman?
John clawed at his jacket, peeling it off of himself. Then he slid his tongue over Sherlock's, breathing heavily. Their kiss deepened and...