Johnlock Stories

Alcohol

(Well, yeah, another smut, I don't know what to tell you, writing smut is fun and reading smut is even better, hope you enjoy, everybody loves the gay)

    This was the affects of alcohol, dizziness, nausea, unable to think straight, yep, instead of thinking straight I was thinking gay.

    The two had been drinking for hours, they finally cracked a case, and they were celebrating their success in the matter.

    "God, I know," John giggles and Sherlocks leans forward in his chair, putting his elbows on his knees and letting his head fall in between, giggling like a small child, "honestly though, you should've seen their faces," John continues and Sherlock looks up, watching as John mimicked a shocked face, and then burst out in laughter again, clutching his stomach.

    "Oh my God, John stop, I'm dying," Sherlock tried to suck in breaths and that made John topple over in laughter as well, hitting Sherlocks forehead with his own, resulting in a bigger mess of laughter.

    A moment later Sherlock stood from his chair, "I'm gonna get another beer, you?" he asked, a wide smile still etched across his face, John coughed out the next few laughs and nodded his head, Sherlock made his way to the kitchen or at least tried to before hitting his thigh against the armrest of John's chair and falling into Johns lap, one leg hanging off the chair, the other bent awkwardly with his knee painfully biting into Johns thigh.

    "Owww," John complained and Sherlock laughed, his arms around John neck to keep him from falling onto the floor. John laughed as well, throwing his head back and grabbing Sherlocks waist to help him up.

    Sherlock sat himself upward, only to swing his other leg over the arm as well, remaining in Johns lap, only now laying down, his head resting on the opposite arm.

    "Are you going to get the beers?" John asked, looking down at Sherlock, and Sherlock removed his arms from John neck, one hand now toying with his hair while the other rested on his own chest.

    "I don't know," he replied nonchalantly, "I'm pretty comfortable," he looked up at the ceiling and John moved his hand to Sherlocks chest, watching as his eyes flicked to Johns, Sherlock bit his bottom lip, and closed his eyes, before opening them again, keeping them on Johns, "I wish you were gay," he whispered, shaking his head, knowing he wouldn't have said it without the alcohol.

    John held his breath, looking into Sherlock's eyes, wondering what could happen, "I may not be attracted to men, but for some reason you're the one exception," John whispered back, and Sherlocks eyebrows furrowed a bit.

    He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out, John sighed and ran his hand up sherlocks stomach, cupping his cheek, he slowly leaned down, hesitating half way but continuing on, and lifted Sherlock's head to join their lips.

    The kiss, leisurely and pleasant, lasting only a short while, yet holding so much significance. John pulled up, only a little ways, and opened his eyes, looking into Sherlocks. His pupils were dilated, his heart was erratic, and his breathing had hitched and was now unpredictable, the only sound to be heard in the room was the consistent ticking of the clock on the wall.

    One second. Two. Three. And that was all it took before their lips were pulled together hastily, the kiss, once slow, was now feverish and fast paced, both tongues moving around each other, working together like it was a dance they had practiced before.

    Sherlock moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Johns neck, sitting up in his lap now. John explored Sherlocks mouth, desperate to learn every part of it, and hardly containing the excitement to learn every part of his body.