johnthreecontinents:
John took Sherlock’s hand and let him out into the middle of the dance floor as all their guests looked on.
"This is preposterous, John. This could hardly be considered our first dance."
"Will you shut up?" John smiled as he stopped in the center and turned around, drawing Sherlock into his arms as the quiet music slowly filled the room. Sherlock blushed.
John wrapped both arms around Sherlock’s middle and rested his crossed arms in the dip in Sherlock’s back.
"Have you already forgotten what I taught you?" Sherlock whispered.
"I don’t want to waltz," John responded. He pulled Sherlock closer until they were chest-to-chest. "I want to hold my husband."
Sherlock made a noise that he intended to sound scandalized, but it came out much more like a desperate little whine. Resigned, Sherlock brought his arms around John’s shoulders. John smirked a bit and began swaying them slowly.
Wise men say… Only fools rush in…
But I can’t help… Falling in love… With you…
Their feet shuffled back and forth moving them in a circle. The large ballroom was so silent you could hear the rolling of Mycroft’s eyes, as well as the tiny sniffles from Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes.
Shall I stay?… Would it be a sin?…
If I can’t help… Falling in love… With you…
Sherlock curled his fingers into the soft hair at the back of John’s neck. He forced himself to keep his eyes on John and off of all of the prying eyes that surrounded them.
John looked back unabashedly, which did little to quell the red in Sherlock’s cheeks.
When John whispered “This is my favorite part,” and began to silently mouth along to the words, Sherlock found himself so overwhelmed that he couldn’t prevent burying his face into the side of John’s.
Like a river flows… Surely to the sea…
Darling, so it goes… Some things… Are meant to be…
Sherlock huffed against John’s cheek as he struggled to keep his composure.
"Take my hand… Take my whole life, too…" Sherlock heard John’s small, soft voice directly in his ear. Despite the silence in the room, there was no way anyone else could hear.
"For I… Can’t Help…"
John was singing to him. John was singing. Just for Sherlock.
"Falling in love… With you…"
Sherlock lost it.
Tears spilled over his eyelashes and he struggled not to hyperventilate.
He had waited so long and he was finally getting everything he wanted. He was almost angry at how perfectly everything had turned out. He clutched John tighter and nuzzled deeper into his shoulder, silently praying that this was real – that he wasn’t dreaming.
As if on cue, John rubbed his hands lightly up and down Sherlock’s back, grounding him.
"Take my hand… Take my whole life, too… For I can’t help… Falling in love… With you…"
Sherlock relented in trying to keep up his facade – with John, at least. He cried brazenly into John’s lapel, squishing and disfiguring his boutonniere, as John continued swaying them and singing so tenderly Sherlock thought he might spontaneously combust.
"For I can’t help… Falling in love… With you…"