#drunk!lock

Final part :-) Feel free to read parts one and two first. 

For a moment silence reigns. 

Sherlock staring at Molly. Molly staring at Sherlock. 

The hideousness of the whole experience staring them both in the face. 

But then- 

“I didn’t say anything and you can’t prove that I did!”

Heh heh heh… Enjoy!

“You see- hic- You see, the thing is, John, the thing is that Molly is perfect,” Sherlock slurs into his phone. “PERFECT.”

And though he knows his friend can’t see him, he nods firmly to himself to reiterate his point.  

“And that’s what you just don’t seem to understand! I mean, have you smelled her hair? Of course you haven’t, Mary would have murdered you, but her hair smells like, like sunshine and new books and being happy! Yes, I said happy! And, and, her eyelashes are like, they’re like these lovely, soft, lovely, silky spiders of loveliness on her face! 

“And her mouth is so sexy, and little, I think it might be the best mouth ever. And her tits, oh god, Christ, she has the most perfect, perky little tits and the most lovely, round little bum and her smile and her voice and her silly jokes are… Ungh!… So I suppose what I’m trying to say, John, is that I know you think I want to shag The Woman but really I don’t anymore, because I want to shag My Woman, and My Woman is Molly Hooper and-”

Beep. 

The answering machine must have him off. 

Sherlock swears to himself loudly and attempts to redial, determined to share some more drunken thoughts with his best friend. 

Before he manages to do so, however, he passes out cold- 

“You,” Sherlock slurs gleefully, “are obsessed with my bottom.”

“Am I, now?”

And Molly Hooper grins at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Watching him sway lightly in the (very mild) summer breeze. It’s 10.30 at night and she has just answered her doorbell, only to see John Watson and Greg Lestrade pelting their way from her door, leaving Sherlock leaning against her porch like a rather stiff log.

At least, she muses, this probably means that Mycroft’s stag do went well.

Molly: *snoring*

-phone buzzes-

Molly: *jerks awake; gropes for her phone*

Your arse bothers me. SH

Molly: *confused; typing* It's four in the morning. MHx

It still bothers me. SH

Molly: *sighs* Why? MHx

Because it's cute. SH

Molly: *raises an eyebrow* Okay. MHx

Want to touch it. SH

Molly: *smiles* Where are you? MHx

Not sure. It's dark. Someone's cat is here. SH

Molly: *groans; gets out of bed, puts on a dressing gown and leaves her bedroom*

Sherlock: *lying on her sofa; nodding off with his phone in his hand and Toby in his lap*

Molly: *folds her arms* How did you get in?

Sherlock: *sits up; grins* Molly! You came.

Molly: *giggles* Come on *holds out her hand*

Sherlock: *takes her hand; yawns* Are we going to touch each other's butts now?

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like johnlock.

Stranger: [Drunklock] You walk like you have a big cock. SH

You: Where the hell is this coming from? JW

Stranger: Your mobile I presume, SH

You: Are you alright? JW

Stranger: Mm, perfectly fine. Always fine. SH

Stranger: What are you wearing? SH

You: Are you drunk? JW

You: You have to be drunk. JW

Stranger: Tipsy. I don't get drank. SH

You: How many did you have? JW

Stranger: What's 5 times 3? SH

You: Okay, where are you? JW

Stranger: A club. SH

You: Which club? JW

Stranger: The napkin says Wish. SH

Oh yes. It's new in Soho. SH

I think I'll g damce. SH

You: No, just stay where you are. I'm going to come get you. JW

Stranger: People want to dance with me though. SH

I like this club, I feel popular, SH

You: Just hang tight, I'll be there soon. JW

Stranger: WE can dance when you get here. SH

You: I'd rather make sure you're okay first. JW

Stranger: I'm fine!! SH

Stranger: I have a blue drink. SH

You: Okay, I'm going to be there in five minutes. JW

Stranger: [No Reply}

You: You still there? JW

Stranger: [No Reply]

You: John walked into the club, scanning crowded floor with the blaring music for Sherlock. God, this wasn't like him. To go to a club, get drunk. Not to mention the texts he sent him earlier. He just hoped he wasn't too far gone.

Stranger: Sherlock had been enticed away from the bar by another club patron and was currently on the dance floor grinding in between the man who had asked him to dance and another who had quickly joined them. He turned his head as the thumping music took on a new beat and he spied John near the edge of the dance floor. Sherlock grinned and stumbled away from the two men, making his way to John. "John!" Sherlock wrapped his arms around his friend, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "You made it!"

You: John felt a bit of jealousy flare up once he saw the other two men grinding against Sherlock, but he set it aside when the other man came over and hugged him. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked, making sure he could be heard over the loud music. He just wanted to make sure the detective was safe, and he wanted to take him home if he needed to.

Stranger: Sherlock grinned and grabbed John's arm, making to pull him onto the dance floor with Sherlock. "Let's dance, John!" Sherlock had been drinking all evening, all he wanted to do was dance now and the only partner he wanted was John. Even if he did have plenty of offers. Sherlock planted his hands on both of John's hips and began to grind his own hips against him, staring flirtatiously into John's eyes.

You: John was a bit surprised when Sherlock grabbed him and pulled him onto the dance floor. A dance or two seemed harmless enough. As long as he could keep an eye on him. Though he'd never seen a look like the one Sherlock had as they danced together. That was new. Alcohol made people more inclined to do the things they wanted to. Could he actually feel the same about him? That would be a conversation to have when Sherlock was sober.

Stranger: Sherlock grinned at John, he slid one of his hands off of John's hips and used it to push his hair off his forehead before settling it onto the back of . He moved in closer to John, smirking at him once before bending his head and beginning to kiss his way a long John's neck and jaw while still swaying to the music. Maybe he was a tiny bit drunk.

You: John felt Sherlock's lips on his neck and knew it was probably time to get Sherlock home. There was no way he would do something like this while sober. "You wanna head home after this song?" he asked. It was probably better than to stay at the club and have him possibly get more drunk. He just wanted him to be safe more than anything.

Stranger: Sherlock hummed against John's neck as he continued to suck and nibble at a spot on his neck. Sherlock's drunken mind had decided that it would be a good idea to leave a lovebite on John and the rest of him had agreed. "We can go home to bed." Sherlock raised his head high enough to whisper the invitation right into John's ear.

You: "I'd much rather do that when you're sober, love," John replied. God, that lovebite was going to make things awkward in the morning. He just hoped Sherlock was still willing to follow him back. He wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and guided him through the crowd of dancing bodies and brought him outside to hail a cab.

Stranger: Sherlock smiled down at John as he straightened himself up and allowed himself to be dragged out of the club. Once they were out into the night air, Sherlock let John try to hail them a cab while he wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind and once again latched his mouth onto John's neck. "I like kissing you." He mumbled out, "I could do this all day."

You: "Hey, ease up there. I'm sure you already left a mark," John told him. What do you even do in this situation? He supposed as long as he made sure Sherlock was home and that he kept an eye on him, he'd be okay. He just hated denying him when he hadn't seen that side around him. "Hey, let's just get you home and into bed. We can talk about all this in the morning."

Stranger: Sherlock giggled quietly then lifted his hand to touch the mark he'd left on John's with his finger. "Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" He asked, raising his head to blow lightly against John's ear. "I can make it worth your while." Sherlock raised his hand to stop a passing cab which slowed in front of them and then dropped it down to catch John's. "Let's go home."

You: Sherlock was set on spending the night with him, which in any other situations would have been a dream. But he didn't want to make things more awkward in the morning than they had to be. "Look, Sherlock. You're drunk. I'd love to, but I just want to make sure you're home and safe right now. We can talk about this later," he explained as they got into the cab. He gave the cabbie their address, and they pulled away from the club and started on their way home.

You: [You still there?]

Yet another little story for my ‘100 Ways’ project :3 as always let me know what you think my dear Sherlollians <3 (I am dedicating this to @flavialikestodraw because she’s one of my favourite artists, and then to @aswellingneutral because she’s also an amazing artist that I only just started following recently which I can’t believe -.-)

”So are you nervous about the upcoming wedding, your upcoming wedding?” John asked as the bartender filled up their glasses.

“Why would I be?” Sherlock asked accepting the drink, downing the whole thing in one go.

“It’s a pretty big think Sherlock, especially for you.” John commented with a shrug, taking a sip from his own drink.

“It doesn’t alarm me.”

They joined Greg, and a few other guys from NSY that John had invited when Sherlock had gotten yet another drink.

Sherlock had protested against the stag do, but John had of course insisted and even though Sherlock usually didn’t do things just because John insisted. But John had threatened to inform Molly that he was refusing to go, and that had worked its charm.

Before long the men were hammered, not many of them used to drinking that heavily often, sure the guys from NSY would go out for a beer once in a while, but tonight the drinks were flowing, no chart over how much alcohol they could take made by Molly this time.

“D’you know I I’m getting mawwied shoon?” Sherlock asked downing another drink whole.

“Yeshhh,” John answered equally pissed as Sherlock.

“To Mowwy.”

“Yeshhh.”

“I lied earlier Jown, it dows awlarm me.” Sherlock admitted as he and John walked together through London on their way home.

“I knows.”

“Whaut if I can’t dwo it?” Sherlock asked looking at John with puppy dog eyes as only Sherlock could.

“Youwl be find” John assured him confidently.

“Youw lowe Mowwly, thats whats matter” he added as an afterthought.

“I do loew Mowwy.”

They’d reached the building of 221 Baker Street and John fished out his phone from his back pocket, having promised to call Mary when they got there so she could come pick him up.

Sherlock waited outside with his friend until Mary came driving with a yawn on her face.

“Are you okay getting up yourself Sherlock, do you have your key?” Mary asked

Sherlock gave a nod to show that he was fine, and even though he stumbled a bit up the stairs, he got himself safely into his flat.

“MOWWY!” he shouted through the flat.

“Yes Sherlock” molly yawned from the sofa, opening her eyes slowly as she adjusted them to the sudden light now bathing the room.

“I’mma drunk.”

Molly giggled as she got up, walking toward her soon to be husband

“I can see that,” she said kissing his cheek softly “you smell a bit too. Go brush your teeth honey, i’ll prepare the bed.” She added, as she started walking to their bedroom

“Mawby dats you” Sherlock complained, scowling at her as she walked away.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not Sherlock.” Molly laughed from the bedroom.

He slouched his way to the bathroom, and got himself ready for bed. He slipped out of his clothes on his way to the bedroom leaving them in heaps on the floor behind him.

Molly was putting a glass of water and an aspirin on his bed table as he walked into the room.

Sherlock crawled under the sheet, closing his eyes trying to will the beginning headache away.

“Take the aspirin Sherlock and try to get some sleep; i’ll be on the sofa tonight.” Molly said, kissing Sherlock’s forehead.

“Why’d not sleewp here?” He mumbled tiredly.

“Sherlock I know how you are when you’re not feeling well, remember when you were sick last year? You need your space. Sleep well love.”

Sherlock was snoring before Molly was out of the room, she smiled lovingly at him before closing the door silently.

oOoOo

“Good morning sleepyhead.” Molly said walking in with a new glass of water and another aspirin.

“Ugh.” Sherlock’s head was hidden beneath his pillow and the sheet was on the floor where he’d most likely kicked it to during the night.

“Headache?” She asked with a giggle.

“Mhmm” was his very intellectual reply as he turned around and opened his eyes.

Molly sat down on the edge of their bed and ran her hand through Sherlock’s (more than normal) unruly curls.