Sherlock drugs John (with his approval) for an experiment and John gets all weird and sniffs his shirt and laughs a lot and can't pronounce Sherlock (maybe calls him "consulting defective") and tries to kiss him
"It's fine, stop worrying. I have carefully constructed it to be a new recreational drug, a safer alternative to cocaine. I've been taking it for a while." Sherlock explained.
"No, Sherlock, it's fucking stupid, the consequences of it... You don't know the long term side affects." John objected.
"It's safe!" The detective snapped.
"If it's so safe, would you trust me to take it?!"
And that was that. Sherlock was convinced it was safe, John was stubborn and was throwing his trust further out than ever before, even with the Hound of Baskerville so fresh in his mind.
Sherlock passed John the pill.
"What can I expect?" He asked, holding it between finger and thumb.
"To feel good." Sherlock sat opposite him in his chair. He rolled his eyes when John gave him a sceptical look. "It has some of the affects of alcohol intoxication, just the good parts, so it won't affect your bowl movements. It also has my own version of MDMA, which enhances the serotonin in your brain, a 'happy' chemical, makes you feel amazing and happy, and also trusting. I have managed to take away the after affects, or the 'come down' to just a small headache and fatigue, so no depression." He explained.
"Right, okay." John nodded and swallowed it.
"There are some other things in it to, but I swear you'll like it."
"You bastard." He narrowed his eyes, but it wasn't a surprise. Sherlock smirked.
Within twenty minutes he felt the affects.
"Y'know, Sherly, Shock, lurk." John tripped over his words, unable to catch his words. He shook his head and giggled into his head.
Sherlock was trying to hide his smile, which turned it into a sly little smirk.
"Mr, Consulting detect-ive." He corrected, leaning on the edge of the chair, pointing a finger up to the sky, he lost his balance and fell forwards, catching himself with his hand on Sherlock's knee.
The detective flinched initially, but stayed in the same position. John's mouth turned into an 'o' shape, eyebrows raised. "I don't mind." Sherlock smiled.
"Me too," John shrugged, sliding further forwards, his hand slipped up Sherlock's thigh by accident, but at the very purposeful squeeze of John's hand Sherlock raised his brow.
"John, bare in mind that while under this influence you may regret your decisions tomorrow."
"Wha? Hmm... I don't... Think... Nope." John was fully off his seat now, and his knee came to rest on Sherlock's chair between the detective's legs just beneath his groin. "I won't..." His hands were on the arms of the chair, and Sherlock was clueless to what he should do.
"Seriously, John, what are you doing?"
"I'm... consulting... the detective..." He feigned a gasp before leaning in and letting his lips try and meet Sherlock's. The detective turned his face, and John's lips connected with a sharp cheekbone.
"I would rather you didn't do something that you don't mean." Sherlock sighed, realising his mistake, as he was only teasing himself with giving John this drug. He was certain that it didn't cause hallucinations or illusions, it didn't create false feelings... It enhanced what was already there, he knew this because he pined for John when he took it himself. But he was in denial.
"Is my delish- delicious, detective... shy?" John giggled, hands coming up to Sherlock's face and turning it to face him. "Hm? Is he? I mean it." John nodded. "I do. I mean it..." He sighed, groaning with it in a slight exasperation. "I wish I shaid sho... Ugh..." He shook his head. The slurring of the words was normal. He murmured under his breath, Sherlock could of sworn he said 'I love you', he perhaps would have bet, if it wasn't for his own pride.
But for now, he indulged.
He leaned forwards and claimed John's lips. John utterly unravelled, hands moving to the detective's hair and neck, moaning relentlessly, and this made Sherlock sigh with contentedness. John, regardless of the drugs influence, was a fantastic kisser.
They sat there, clasping lips for a long time, sometimes a hot wet tongue would taste the other curiously. The only sounds were of contented hums from John, and sighs from Sherlock. The kisses went from long and languid to short and curious, sometimes resting their heads together so they could stroke each other's faces. It lasted for hours.
The next day, a word wasn't said, but when Sherlock passed John the paracetamol and bottle of water for his headache, their eyes met, and both of them smiled. He was almost certain they would try that again.
