With a daze Sherlock put his arms around his best friend’s shoulders. He leaned on him heavily,

John was also drunk, but he was sitting in one of the bar stools.  “Jawwwnnn…” Sherlock said with slurred words.

“Yezz?”

“when--when...Ish we going…?”

“Urrr….” John jumped off the stool, almost tripping and falling but helping himself up by grabbing the counter and pulling up. “Now...”

“Ssokaaay….” Sherlock leaned on John as they walked out of the bar and hailed a cab.

The cab stopped and let them inside, Sherlock drunkenly mumbled his address and the ride started.

John fell on Sherlock’s shoulder, the motion of the ride making the drunken doctor sick. Sherlock put his arm around John and stared out the window until they arrived at their house. The cabbie stopped and asked if they would like help getting out but Sherlock refused. Somehow the two men made it inside safely.

They stumbled up stairs and shakily opened the door. Inside the room Sherlock looked at the furniture sleep? sleep... sleep… sleep…? sleep... sleep sleep…?

That's all he saw within the room. John was just in a haze of a moving building. “Sherry…” John mumbled.

“Whose… Sherry??”

“Y-you.” Sherlock chuckled and dizzily stepped to the couch and fell onto it.

“Ohhhhh…. Yessssss?” Sherlock's eyes turned to John.

He mumbled something and also flopped onto the couch, right next to Sherlock.

Sherlock smirked, making himself comfortable. He put an arm around John and his leg over the doctor's waist.

“Shhheeerrryyyyyyy…!” Sherlock giggled and nuzzled into John's neck. “Sheerry!!”

“At least call me Sher…”

“Sheeeerrrrr…!”

“Mhnnnmmm?”

John sighed. “Nnnmmmevermind…” Sherlock nodded, cuddling up to John, he allowed Sherlock to and soon both were asleep.

The mixture of warmth of the cuddles and the drunken state they were in knocked them out cold, they awoke late afternoon, the next day.

John, now sobered up, noticed Sherlock's body still wrapped around his own. He felt kisses being placed into his neck and his face turned pink. John coughed awkwardly, waking the consulting detective up.

Sherlock pulled away from John and kicked him off the couch.

“Owww!!” John whined, Sherlock sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Oops. Sorry.” John pulled himself up and glared at Sherlock.

“Why were you cuddling with me?”

“Why were you playing with my hair and giggling my name?”

“I was not!”

“Yes you were! 'Sherlock...heheh….’ ” Sherlock impersonated and crossed his arms, staring at John.

John rolled his eyes. “You were the one cuddling me!”

“You were the one that allowed me to!”

“You kissed my neck!”

Sherlock said nothing for a few moments, only glaring at John. After about a minute he finally spoke up. “You were fucking me in your dream!”

“No I wasn't! How would you know?”

“Because you kept giggling and moaning and saying my name!”

John turned around and was about to storm into his room when Sherlock grabbed his wrist.

“You love me.”

“No--”

“You llllOOOOOOOOOvveeee meee!”

“Shut up, Sherlock! Yes I do--now let me go!” Sherlock got up and walked in front of John, cupping his cheeks and kissing his lips.

John lit up like lightning, he was about to pull away but he found himself putting his arms around Sherlock and kissing him back.

Sherlock smiled through the kiss, tugging John's body closer to his own. “You're adorable.” Sherlock mumbled and pecked John's cheek.

John smiled and rested his head on Sherlock's chest. “And so are you. I do love you, Sherlock Holmes.”

“And I, you, John Watson.”