"Wrong! I am gay. I was just scared to come out." He huffed as he went to his bedroom. Once he was in his room, he whispered; "and I’m completely in love with you."
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “That’s the alcohol talking, John!” he called, taking a sip of the coffee he had before going back to typing furiously, trying to ignore the shaking in his fingers. John had wanted to kiss him. No matter how inebriated, he had offered to do it.
John stared at his friend for a moment. “So, that’s a no then?”
"Of course it’s a no," Sherlock replied, sounding completely disinterested and not even bothering to look up from his laptop. "You’re not gay, as you love to keep reminding all of us. Trust me, you’ll thank my for stopping you in the morning. Now go to bed, John, I’m working."
"Maybe. That’s not really important."
"Oh, I beg to differ. Your alcohol intake may very well decrease the validity of your desire to, how do they say it, ‘snog’ me."
"I’m Dr. John Watson. Please make out with me now."
"I know who you are, John, don’t be tedious. But moving right along - have you been drinking?"