A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! Have any of you seen F.R.I.E.N.D.S.? If not you need to lol. I am beyond obsessed with the show and I was watching it last night and got some inspiration from how Ross and Rachael got together. Enjoy<3

 "Gavin!"

"Still not my name Sherlock."

"Why doesn't John love me?" Sherlock whined, leaning against the DI, playing with the glass of scotch in his hand. Lestrade had dragged him along to the pub after he had come by the flat and found Sherlock setting fire to a human elbow. Now Sherlock was beyond drunk and Lestrade was finding out all sorts of things he didn't want to know.

"Maybe it has something to do with Mary?" Greg pushed the drunk man off him, having to quickly grab him and correct his position as the lanky man nearly fell off his stool.

"Mary, perfect Mary. I hate Mary."

"No, you don't."

"No, I can't hate her. Why can't I hate her George?"

"Beats the hell out of me."

"It's not fair. She gets to get fucked by John. Why can't John fuck me Geoff?"

"I'm going to play the Mary card one last time." Sherlock sighed heavily and smashed his head against the bar, growling in frustration. Lestrade waved apologetically at the bartender and pulled the drunk man upright, checking for permanent damage before pulling out his phone and sending a text to Mycroft, asking for him to send a car to pick up him and Sherlock.

"Why does it have to hurt Marshall?"

"Okay, that isn't even close to my name."

"How do you get over someone you have to see every day?"

"I don't know Sherlock, you just have to find that one thing that gives you the strength to say to him, 'John, I'm over you.'" Sherlock was quiet for a few minutes, seemingly thinking about Greg's words. Greg jumped as Sherlock suddenly smacked his hand against the bar.

"I should get a dog!"

"Oh, no."

"I will name it John!"

"Sherlock-"

"I must call John and tell him." Greg thought about stopping Sherlock, he really did, but something told him that this could wind up being very interesting. He watched Sherlock struggle with his phone for a few minutes before he decided to help the man. He grabbed the phone and flipped it the right way up.

"It was upside down."

"Ah! Thank you, Barbra."

"And that's a woman's name."

"John! I am getting a dog!" Sherlock sounded gleeful as he spoke into the phone. He covered the bottom of the phone and dramatically whispered at Greg. "It went to voicemail." Greg chuckled for a moment. "I am going to name it John. Or maybe Michael, seeing as how I am out with Mitchel right now. It was his idea. See? I'm out with other men, that proves that I. Am. Over. You." He hung up the phone and dramatically dropped it on the ground, grinning proudly as he finished his scotch. Greg's phone went off, signalling the arrival of their car. He stood, scooping up the phone and draping the drunk detective's arm over his shoulders, gripping his waist and hauling him to his feet. He stumbled out of the pub and poured the detective into the car before clambering in behind him.

When the car arrived at Baker Street, he pulled Sherlock out of the car, telling the driver to just go home. He decided to stay at Sherlock's, too tired to find his own way home. He stumbled up the stairs and hauled the tangle of limbs down the hall to his room. He dropped Sherlock onto the bed and stumbled up to John's old room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

When Sherlock woke the next morning, his head was filled with cobwebs and he was certain the world would never stop spinning. He timidly made his way into the hall, wincing as the light streaming in through the windows made his head throb. He heard someone making their way up the stairs and tried to register who's steps he was hearing, but thinking just made his head hurt worse. The door swung open to reveal John. John. That triggered something in Sherlock's mind, but he couldn't quite place what he was thinking about.

"Hey."

"Oh, no, no, no. Please don't speak so loud."

"What's wrong? Are you, hungover?" Sherlock could hear the amusement in the doctor's tone and sent him a glare.

"Gavin dragged me to the pub last night."

"Oh? How was that?"

"I don't really remember." John laughed, causing Sherlock to grip his head and whine in pain.

"I think I left my phone here yesterday, have you seen it?" Sherlock waved a hand towards the coffee table and rubbed at his eyes, trying to figure out what was bugging him. "Found it. Hey, did you call me last night? I've got a voicemail from you." Sherlock's head snapped up as the memories started flooding back. "You're getting a dog?"

"John! No!" Sherlock moved way too fast for someone who was as hungover as he was. He leapt for John, reaching for his phone and finding himself pushed away, sent sprawling over the sofa. "John, no, please-"

"Y-you- y-you're over me?" John stumbled over his words, and Sherlock groaned and hid his face in the cushions of the sofa. "I-I don't u-understand, when where you, under me?"

"John, if I had ever been 'under you' we would not be having this conversation."

"Sherlock!"

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. Blame Frank, he didn't stop me."

"Who the fuck is Frank?"

"Lestrade."

"God, Greg knows? Fantastic!" John was clearly upset, Sherlock could hear it in his voice.

"I'm sorry John."

"How- how long Sherlock?"

"Since you shot that damned cabbie."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You said you weren't gay!"

"You can't do this to me Sherlock! Mary is waiting for me downstairs, I-I'm with Mary."

"Then go to her!" Sherlock sprung up from the sofa, embarrassment and shame filling him. "Go be with your perfect fiancé and live your perfect life!" He heard John storm out of the flat and he threw himself into his chair, unable to contain the sobs that wracked his frame.

A few hours later, Sherlock finally got himself together enough to go to the lab. He planned on spending his afternoon testing samples and running experiments to get John off his mind. He was testing some blood under a microscope when John stormed in.

"We were supposed to get a cat." John sounded angry, and breathless. Sherlock looked up, feeling his chest tighten as he took in the sight before him. "Mary and I, we were supposed to get a cat, and you know what? All I could think about is how would John like the cat? What happens when I bring the cat over to Baker Street?"

"Who is John?"

"Your dog Sherlock!"

"I don't have a dog John-"

"That's beside the point Sherlock!" John slammed his hand down on the counter. He was fuming. "The point is, I was supposed to buy a cat with my fiancé today and I couldn't because all I could think about was you and how you are no longer, under me!"

"John-"

"You can't just say things like that Sherlock! You can't just tell me that you had feelings for me and expect me to just go on with my life like that!"

"Why not? It's not like you ever had feelings for me! You're not gay, remember?" Sherlock hadn't meant to yell, he wasn't planning on saying anything, but it was unfair of John to be so mad at him.

"Don't do this-"

"Don't do what John? Get upset because you couldn't buy a fucking cat? I get it John! You're with Mary and you are uncomfortable knowing how I feel. That's fine, go be with your fiancé, you two deserve to be happy." Sherlock felt the tears start to fall and he hid his face, silently willing John to leave.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" John's voice had gone soft and Sherlock thought he heard a tremor in his words.

"You aren't gay, you made that explicitly clear from day one."

"Sherlock-"

"No, it's fine John. I'm sure I will see you around."

"No, no you don't get to do that."

"Do what John?" Sherlock slammed his hand down on the counter and stood, finding himself way too close to John. He hardened his eyes and put on his best sneer. "I don't get to brush you off? Same as you have done for the past three years? That hardly seems fair, does it?" He had more words, more things to say, but his mind screeched to a halt as John kissed him.

He had never been kissed before, and now that he had been kissed by John, he knew that nothing would ever compare to it. Sparks flew when he felt John's tongue press into his mouth. His knees were weak and unsteady by the time John broke the kiss.

"John-"

"God Sherlock, I have wanted this for so long."

"W-what- what about-"

"Shit, Mary! I-I have to- Mary's waiting for me." Sherlock felt as though a dagger had pierced his heart. He nodded and backed away from John, blinking away the tears. He felt John's hand on his cheek, pulling his face to meet his in another tender kiss. "Sherlock, I promise, I'll be back. I'll meet you back at Baker Street alright? I'm not going to lose you again." Sherlock nodded, his heart swelling as he realized what John was saying. John was going to leave Mary. He watched as John started walking away, leaving to go end things with his fiancé.

"John?"

"Yes Love?"

"I can't wait to be under you." John flushed and laughed, and Sherlock felt as though everything might just be alright.