Sherlocks POV
John was drunk. He had gone out with Lestrand and now he's drunk. Great. He was flirty when drunk. He made me blush when he was sober. When he's drunk he uses it to his advantage. I gave up cigarettes for a month because of this. He didn't remember. He never does. At the moment he had me pinned against a wall. We were in our flat thank god but he was trying to kiss me. Not good. "John please stop. You're drunk. Don't do anything you'll regret." I whispered.
"I don't think I'll regret this, love," he said and tried to kiss me again.
"Maybe you won't but I will," I muttered.
"Sherlock please," he whispered.
I managed to push him away a bit. "John you never remember. You always flirt with me then forget. You only act like this when drunk. Please don't mess with my feelings." I whispered. Hoping he couldn't hear me. "I-I love you."
He grinned. "If you love me you'll say it in french," he says.
I look at his funny. "Je t'aime!" I said.
He looked at me. "Chinese," he whispered.
"Wǒ ài nǐ," I said smiling.
I liked to impress him. He froze. He looked me directly in the eye and gave me a loving look. "Zulu?" he said, doubtfully.
"Ngiyakuthanda," I say smiling.
He looked at me. "Did you just memorise every language I love you?" he asked.
I smiled. "Maybe," I whispered, smiling.
"Can I kiss you know?" he asks.
"When you're sober,'' I growled.
He glared. "At least let me cuddle you on the couch," he said.
I smiled and nodded.
The next morning I woke up in his arms. He was smiling and playing with my hair. "Can I get that kiss now?" he asks.
I nodded and let him kiss me. After he smiled. "I love you too," he whispered.
"Am I allowed to demand it in different languages,'' I asked.
He glared at me. He kissed me again. Then he mumbled into my lips, "No."
Drunk actions are sober thoughts.