When John is drunk, he is clumsy and honest. However Sherlock has never seen John stoned before, and the effects are incredible. Granted, there are some ethical issues with the latest experiment, but John lives with him, and therefore has given informed consent to pretty much anything that Sherlock can dream up. And this is by far one of the most interesting social experiments Sherlock has ever done.
It started with a cup of tea, a single steaming cup of tea which John drank greedily after coming home from work. There is a long silence before John registers something is wrong.
“Why did you make me a cup of tea?” He asks, but Sherlock shrugs and starts playing violin.
An hour later John is hungry and they order Chinese. His speech is slightly slurred, the words mashing together, which he doesn’t seem to notice, so Sherlock orders and soon a large portion of fried rice, lemon chicken, dumplings, duck in plum sauce, chow mein, prawn toast and two fortune cookies arrive at Baker Street.
Sherlock makes two large gin and tonics, makes a deal of giving John the one with the lime wedge, and they both drink deeply. Then the fun really starts.
While Sherlock takes the empty food containers downstairs to the bin he hears two loud thuds upstairs. When he returns his finds John’s shoes have been kicked off violently, one is on top of the desk, the other is the far side of the room by the bookshelf. There is the sound of clattering in the kitchen and Sherlock goes to investigate.
“Where the fuck is it?” John grumbles, pulling drawers out at random, searching for something in the cupboards and under the kitchen table and amongst the papers.
“What are you looking for?”
“Can I ask why?”
“You can. I won’t answer” John said, in a matter of fact tone, before bursting into fresh addictive giggles.
Sherlock pulls open the drawer next to him and passes out the tube of glue. John grins and disappears with a bundle of things in his arms, including a wooden spoon and a marker pen.
Twenty minutes pass before Sherlock decided it’s time to find out what John has been doing, and he knocks quietly on the door of John’s bedroom. There is no reply, but a faint sound like somebody trying to stifle a laugh, so Sherlock peeks his head into the room and his face breaks into a lopsided grin.
John is sat, cross legged in the middle of his bed, surrounded by debris; wool, pens, lollypop sticks, felt, scissors, and glue which is slowly seeping into his bedspread.
He holds in his hands something magnificently childish, but Sherlock loves it all the same. A wooden spoon puppet of what is obviously supposed to be Sherlock himself, in a little black jacket with curly wool hair and a hand drawn face. John turns to face him, a huge grin on his lips which reaches all the way to his dilated pupils and glue stuck to his fingers.
“Look, Sherlock. I made you” The doctor bursts into deep laughter, rolls backward and flicks his legs out so he is lying straight on his back. He holds the puppet up like a trophy with two hands, before he finally stops laughing and turns his head to look at his flatmate with something serious to say
“You drugged me” He states, but his words are still a little messy and Sherlock just nods.
“I don’t mind though. Quite like it. Being stoned. You should get stoned. It’ll shut your stupid head up for a bit. Or maybe not. I don’t know. But it’ll make you relax. Look at me. I’m relaxed. I’m so..” John pauses for a moment, to find the word, find the right word. “Lethargic” He says, dragging the word out and it would sound sexy if he didn’t then chuckle and snort.
An hour later, the two of them are lying on the floor in the living room, staring up at the ceiling, both spaced out and grinning for no reason.
“I like you”
“I like you too Sherlock”
“That’s good. I like that you like me”
“It is good. I like that you like that I like you”
“Enough. Can’t process more likes.”
They are quiet for a moment before John rolls onto his side so he can look at Sherlock’s face.
“I like like you.
“You said ‘like’ twice”
“There was more emphasis on the first like.”
Sherlock turns his head to look at John properly, smiles, his eyelids heavy and his eyes slightly glassy, but all seeing.
“Ah. I think I know what you’re trying to say”
And Sherlock grins as he presses a lingering kiss on John’s jaw line.