A/N- For this story to (hopefully) make some form of misguided sense, I will be adding John's pov. Thank you, and enjoy!
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John POV
Sherlock Holmes is an arsehole.
I was perched on the edge of the sofa like my 16 year old self on a date. It was ridiculous. And yet, my legs wouldn't steady and I remained tense and uneasy. Mrs Hudson was looking hugely confused.
Admittedly, I was more than a bit lost myself. Here I was, perched next to my best friend with an odd tug in the pit of my stomach that was, rather worryingly, insistently demanding to be closer to him. I'm not gay! He may well be, but I love women. I do.
"Boys...?" Mrs Hudson queried. I nodded silently to indicate that she should continue. "...Is everything..." She was cut off by a rude interruption from Holmes.
"Yes, Mrs Hudson. Stop flapping, and kindly return to the kitchen." Sherlock beamed at her, ushering her out the door and whirling on his heel with a sigh once it was safely shut. Amused despite myself, I smiled up at him. His response, of course, was a bewildered head-tilt and an uncertain pout.
"John." I didn't reply, but just tipped my head slightly. "You live here."
"...Yes." I confirmed, slightly bemused with a bubbly urge to laugh becoming steadily stronger - and far more difficult to choke back.
"You don't need to perch like a schoolboy." Sherlock continued. I obeyed without thinking, shifting back and reclining in the chair without a second thought. He smiled in approval and for a second, I was elated - he was happy with me! Instantly, I regained control. John. You're being ridiculous! I told myself sharply. You're not a puppy! But, damn, I felt like one.
Agitated, I went to the fridge and rummaged around for a beer - the one thing that I was reasonably sure Sherlock would leave alone from his experiments. I grabbed myself a bottle, and was just about to open it when Sherlock cleared his throat from behind me.
"Hmm?" I asked, still in the depths of the fridge.
"Pass me a beer." I coughed, shocked.
"S-sorry?!" I stuttered, spinning to face him. "Sherlock, you hate drinking." I smiled as I spoke, my detective buried in the newspaper with his feet on the coffee table. He didn't look up, just extended his hand. I shook my head, amused and more than a little bit surprised, but handed him one. He took a long sip, and without warning, he surfaced from behind the paper and his face contorted as he forced himself to swallow the alcohol.
Sherlock POV
John was right. I really did hate drinking. The innocent-looking amber liquid burned my mouth, and I only just succeeded in choking out an urgent question without gagging.
"John! How do you drink this?!" I coughed, and the bastard just laughed.
"It's not like wine, you twat..." He giggled, apparently greatly amused by my mishap. I was, however, enlightened, and as I took my next brave drink, it really wasn't so bad. The drink after that, I was drinking heaven from a bottle. All the while, John just watched whilst guzzling his own down.
Time became an utterly abstract concept after that, life seen through a haze while John and I threw aside our empty bottles, time and time again. At some point, I migrated to his lap and we laughed together at nothing at all.
"See, Shurrrrlawk?" He slurred, speaking slowly.
"What..." I drawled, giggling as he poked my stomach. I wriggled on his lap, now curled against his chest.
"This isss... Pretteh human, y'know..." He sighed. I pressed my face into his jumper and - rather embarrassingly - purred. John continued after a leisurely pause. "We're... Snug'lin'. 'S nice." He murmured, now staring into my eyes with a strange intensity that was only strengthened by the alcohol. I could see his pupils dilating bu... Too... Slee...
John POV
Sherlock fell asleep like that, staring intently into my eyes. I must admit I had acted far more drunk than I actually was, and it had gone rather favourably. He shuffled on my lap, and I held him slightly closer - even I could now see the small smile that was curving his mouth as he nestled close to me.
I've never known fear like the fear that touched me when I realised that although Sherlock believed me the teacher, be was teaching me far more about human emotion than I could ever teach him.
He was showing me that I... Fuck me, I loved him. And that that was... Surprisingly okay.
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A/N- Sorry about the length! I know it's short (and I've been away ages), more on the way though!
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The Humanity Extraction
Fanfiction"John. When you said I was a machine... Did you really mean it?" Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective - the only one in the world, let me remind you - at your ser... Never mind. Your commander, and additionally the best amateur detective - I d...
