Only Yours

33

SET THE MORNING OF THE WEDDING

John's P.O.V

'Good morning John.' I blearily open my eyes and roll over, squinting at the hazy figure by the door. I can't quite make him out in the bright sunlight, but I would recognise that voice anywhere.

'What the hell are you doing in my room, Mycroft?' I ask, collapsing back on my pillows and closing my eyes again. I can hear Mycroft wandering around the room and open one eye to look at him. 'I should ask you the same thing.' He says wryly. I groan. Those bloody Holmes boys. They answer questions with more questions.

Mycroft sighs when he sees I don't get it. 'This is my room, John. Last night, after you kissed me-'

'What?' I sit bolt upright and stare at him in shock. I must have drunk more than I thought. Why else would I kiss Mycroft?

'Don't look so worried, John, you clearly thought I was Sherlock. He turned up at the bar last night, though I have no idea where he is now. I couldn't find him. Anyway, after I realised how intoxicated you were, I brought you up here. Since you had lost your room key and Gregory has also gone missing, I decided to let you sleep in here.'

I stare at him in shock. He did something...kind? Why? I'm about to ask him when an almighty thump against the wall makes us both jump and look away. Mycroft sniffs. 'They've been doing that all night. It's preposterous.' We lapse into silence, him carefully packing away his spare clothes and me staring at him in shock. Mycroft doesn't seem bothered that I am sitting mostly naked two metres away, or that his husband is missing, or that if his (or my) partner found out we were in here together we would both be in deep, deep shit.

Suddenly I hear a door being flung open and a loud whisper, 'Are you joking? We slept together and you still can't remember my name?'

I freeze.

I recognise the voice.

And there is only one person who doesn't know his name.

The voices drop briefly and I strain my ears, trying to pick something up. I get out of bed and pad towards the door, pressing my ear to the hard wood, trying to hear.

So when Sherlock roars, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!' at the top of his voice I almost fall over.

There is a brief pause before a reply comes. 'Yeah, yeah.'

I remain frozen as I realise that Sherlock has cheated on me.

The day of our wedding.

I pull on my t-shirt as I open the door slowly just in case Sherlock's killed Greg or something, because he really did sound angry, but the moment I get a glimpse of the hall I gasp and allow it to fall open.

Directly in front of me is William dressed in tight, white briefs with a dark haired girl directly behind him. I temporarily forget about Sherlock and say 'William' in my most disappointed voice. He flinches and opens his mouth but the sound of the door at the end of the corridor stops him.

Lestrade steps out, hair tousled, wearing only an evening shirt, closely followed by Sherlock.

Who has sex hair.

'John!' he says in what is quite possibly the most guilty voice I have ever heard.

I recognise the evening shirt Greg is wearing. It's Sherlock's favourite purple one.

'Jesus. Jesus, what- Sherlock, what the hell is going on?' I growl, stepping towards him. Sherlock steps backwards and glances at Greg pleadingly.

This sends me over the edge.