Heyyyyy! Chapter three hundred. :D
So happy we got here!
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John fixed his bow, twisting around so he could see himself in the mirror as Sherlock tried to playfully take it all up. “Dear, put on the suit jacket.”
“I will in a moment.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and smiled a little. John sighed and finished tweaking up the small imperfections of the suit he was wearing. He went off to blow dry his hair and comb it into a nice look.
Sherlock watched him leave, then walked over to the bed. He picked up the suit jacket and put it on, making it look nice.
He walked out of the room, looking around for John, who was now leaning over Rosie in the living room. The little baby girl clapped her hands and waddled around as John messed with her. They were going to get Mrs Hudson to take care of her while they were out.
She stumbled and fell on the floor, but that didn't deter her from getting to Daddy. She helped herself up and walked into John's arms. He hugged her and kissed her forehead. “We'll be out for awhile, so Huddy is going to take care of you.”
“Huddies!” Rosie smiled and clapped again. She gripped onto John's shirt and pulled herself up, setting another hand on his knee. He positioned his daughter right, then stood up holding her. She giggled and looked around.
There was a knock at the door, and Sherlock went to answer it. Mrs Hudson stood there with a smile. They hugged, and she walked in.
John handed Rosamund over to her and then walked to his boyfriend, taking his hand.
“Bye, Mrs Hudson!” Sherlock waved.
“Bye!” John waved as well.
Rosie waved back, leaning towards them. “Bye-bye, Daddies!”
The boyfriends walked out and went downstairs to get a cab. “I don't understand why we can't just lay in our bed with our comfortable clothes on and play with Rosamund.”
John looked up to Sherlock. “Because your brother invited to bring us to a--”
“Gathering consisting of crowds of people. I know.” Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's shoulders. John rolled his eyes and got a cab, and they both got in. They told the driver where to go, and the cab started to move.
“Just act appropriately, okay?”
“Whatever you say, John.”
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The next thing the two knew, they were at the party. It was a fancy one, with everyone in dresses and suits and hairstyles that probably took half a day to make.
John went off to find Mycroft, and Sherlock leant against a wall outside. He just wished he was back home, with John in his arms and Rosamund curled up in between them.
John found Sherlock again after about a half hour. Mycroft didn't come over because he was busy, but he did tell John to give Sherlock a hello for him.
They stood against each other, and Sherlock slowly took his hand. “I wish we brought Rosie. She'd probably like it.”
“But then we'd be the only couple here that brought a baby. You don't bring babies to this sort of thing.”
Sherlock shrugged and looked around, lacing his fingers with John's. “That's true. And I know she loves Mrs Hudson.”
John nodded and leant into his boyfriend, closing his eyes. He was being awfully clingy, and John didn't mind, other than being the only couple there that was kissing and snuggling each other.
A little later on in the party, the two had started to talk with people. Sherlock was acting like his regular self. Rude, arrogant, smartass-like. It was barely possible for this man to be nice to anyone who's name wasn't John H Watson.
“Why do you stay with him?” Sherlock asked, crossing his arms. He was talking to a woman now, and her boyfriend was talking to John.
“What do you mean? I love him.” She said, frowning.
“Obviously not,” Sherlock laughed. “He's stressing you out and making you do things you don't want to do. Why don't you just walk off and find someone who's better for you?”
She moved a strand of hair away from her face. “How do you know you're right? I'm very happy with him.”
Sherlock scoffed. “No, you're not. He's controlling, and you're very submissive.” He shrugged. “Look, he's even trying to control my boyfriend. He's just slowly trying to manipulate him, just like he did to you.” Sherlock looked at John, who was strong enough to handle the situation himself.
“Wine?” Someone walking around with a tray and cups of wine offered one to Sherlock. He took a glass and smiled.
“Thank you.” He turned back to the woman he decided to talk to. “Anyways, it's obvious by a lot of things. People who are usually more quiet or shy try to take up as little room as possible, you're trying to slip out of existence. People who are usually more outgoing or, controlling perhaps, will take up more room and make lots of gestures. Like your boyfriend is doing,” Sherlock went to describe, in tremendous detail, their relationship. How she must've started dating him only five months ago, and he just recently became controlling, because she showed signs of being someone who was not so timid, but now she was.
“Stop--” She said, covering her face and crying. “You're a freak!” She ran away. Sherlock watched her, emotionless.
John walked up to him and set a hand on his back, pushing him gently. They walked to the bathroom, and got in a stall.
“What did I tell you?” John asked, looking up at his boyfriend. “I told you to act appropriately. What was that?!”
Sherlock looked down, staring at John's face. He couldn't help the smile that played across his lips. “You're so cute.” He whispered, leaning over and pressing their lips together. John paused and stared up at him, lips slightly ajar, a sparkle in his eyes. He looked surprised, but pleased.
They kissed again, and again, until it was at the point where John was pressing Sherlock against the stall wall and they were moaning and grabbing onto each other.
Not to point fingers, but Sherlock was the noiser one.
John pulled away sometime later, when he heard someone enter the bathroom. He kissed Sherlock again, tilting their heads and slowing the kissing way down. Sherlock groaned and reached up for him, wrapping arms around his shoulders.
“John,” he whispered needily, leaning in and kissing his neck. He didn't even care if they were in the bathroom at some party. The party was located at a nice place, and the bathroom smelled like lavender, with some soft classical music in the background and white marble floors, black marble walls and doors for each stall.
“Is someone there?” The other man in the bathroom asked. He was washing his hands, and Sherlock could deduct from the sound of it that he was bleeding.
Sherlock crawled onto the toilet so his feet wouldn't be visible and crouched onto the seat, watching John, who looked at the door.
“No, just me.” John said awkwardly, looking at Sherlock, who was silently laughing.
The other man dried his hands. “Okay.” He walked back out of the bathroom, and Sherlock stepped down from the toilet and kissed John again.
Sherlock jumped up and wrapped his legs around John's waist, his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders. John pressed him against the wall and kissed him deeply, passionately. Sherlock moaned, squealed, and giggled, always the noisy one.
But John loved hearing all of his noises, so he continued to kiss him and stroke his body so he could hear more.
After awhile more in the bathroom, they decided they had to get back to the party. They walked out, Sherlock was blushing and hiding behind John. Hugging, holding his hand, and staying close.
After another hour, Sherlock stopped being so shy, and he returned to his sassy, rude self.