John and Sherlock on stag night, both feeling warm and loose from the alcohol, both thinking that this just might be the night when it finally happens, the possibilities endless and 221b feels so intimate that it’s almost unbearable - john’s bare feet brushing sherlock’s legs, smiles that were only ever for the other person, all wrapped up in the warm haze of a few too many drinks and the only place either of them had ever really called home