Distasteful Profession

Only reason Pt. 2

John was reading a newspaper article in the sitting room when Sherlock practically kicked the door down. "Jesus Christ, Sherlock-!" John jumped, but Sherlock moved toward him quickly and grabbed his face to bring John in for a rough and long overdue kiss. Sherlock held his breath to savour the taste of Watson. When he pulled away, John whimpered as he'd been deprived of Sherlock's sweet, tender lips shaped like Cupid's bow, making almost anyone fall in love with them. Sherlock took a long look into John's dark blue eyes and for a moment, became transfixed on them. Full of concern, love, and desire for Sherlock to stay with him and not rush off, leaving him to be a worried mess in Lestrade's office in Scotland Yard. John closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Sherlock's as he let out a sigh. "You worried me," John started, "Shhh-!" Sherlock hushed him with another kiss. "Where's Rosie?" He asked, keeping their forehead's connected, loving any sort of physical contact, sexual or platonic. "I sent her down to bug Mrs. Hudson," John answered, creasing his eyebrows to think, but quickly relaxed when Sherlock slowly dropped to his knees. "Sherlock, what's wrong?" John asked. Sherlock didn't answer, but he buried his face in the crook of John's neck and shoulder.

"I'm being hunted," Sherlock said. "Hunted, by who? I won't let them touch you," John said, defensively pulling Sherlock in deeper. Sherlock moved himself to straddle John's lap as he kept his face in John's neck. "John," Sherlock said, husky voice deep and low, "God, John. I don't have the words I need to tell you. You're the only person in my life who never called me a freak or psycho. You're charming, your beautiful personality has the attractiveness that I've fallen desperately, positively, in love with. From the moment that I've officially met you, I can only say one thing. You've destroyed me. You've corrupted my mind with thoughts of you and me, you've broken my mind palace, and I'll never be the same. John Hamish Watson, I am so helplessly in love with you,"The words were somewhat muffled, but John knew exactly what he was hearing. "Sherlock," John muttered as he managed to stand up carefully, leaving Sherlock still in the armchair to watch as John walked over to his coat and plucked it from the rack on the wall. He took Sherlock's coat as well. John threw Sherlock's coat at him, having it flop over Sherlock's face. "Where are we going?" Sherlock asked. "You'll deduce it," And, off they went.

John stopped at a field of open snowy grass. Perfect and white and still. John walked Sherlock to the very middle of the field. "Sherlock, I need to ask you a very serious question," John said sternly. He as holding both of Sherlock's hands and looking up at him with those deep ocean blue eyes. Sherlock nodded to say that he understood and John continued, "Why don't you go by William Sherlock Scott Holmes?" He asked with a slight chuckle as he looked down at their interlocked hands. "Because William Sherlock Scott Holmes is very boring," Sherlock said, almost complaining, "And, It doesn't have a good ring to it," John let go of Sherlock's one hand and told him to reach into his coat pocket. Sherlock looked in his pocket, confused. He'd just popped into the flat, how could John have slipped anything in his pocket while they were partially snogging?

As John finally decided to reach into Sherlock's pocket because Sherlock had been zoning out, He repeated, "Why don't you like your name, again?" Sherlock grunted, "Because, it doesn't have a good sound to it!" Sherlock said, slightly annoyed. "Well, does William Sherlock Scott Watson sound any better?" John asked, kneeling down and opening a red velvet box that he'd retrieved from Sherlock's pocket to reveal a silver band to go around his ring finger. Sherlock seemed unfazed by John's way of proposing to him. He tutted a finger to his mouth in concentration. "Neh, that's still rather awful, but," Sherlock said, crouching down to be John's height and grabbing John's cheeks in his hands, "I feel John Hamish Holmes has quite a ring to it." Sherlock Cut of John's surprised gasp with a kiss. Sherlock pushed forward with his legs, forcing John to his back as Sherlock landed on him. John's whole body was shaking and trembling and when Sherlock went up for air and looked down at John, his face had been drowned with tears. "John, that's a yes," Sherlock said, and John nodded. "I know, Idiot!" He chocked or before he grabbed Sherlock's face once more and pulled him down roughly for the best snog that Sherlock's ever had. They laughed, giggled, cried, and Sherlock can say that that moment was the best one he'd probably ever have for a while. Although when they walked back to the car, brushing themselves off from snow ten minutes later, Sherlock couldn't help but feel his heart sink when he looked at the band stretching and bending to fit and most perfectly around his finger.