Also, note that this wasn’t beta’d so if you guys find any mistakes pls tell me!!
Sherlock and John had been woken up my Sherlock’s phone ringing. John was on his back with Sherlock’s legs over his hip and his hand on his chest. Both groaned and shifted a bit, not pleased with being woken up. Sherlock’s head naturally gravitated towards John’s neck, and John wrapped his arm around Sherlock.
The phone didn’t stop ringing, and so Sherlock turned around and got his phone from the bedside table. It was Lestrade calling, he needed help with a case. Sherlock couldn’t be more thrilled, and he rapidly got out of bed and dressed in less than ten minutes. With Sherlock standing next to their bed, fully dressed, John (still lying down) looked at him for second or two.
“Love, calm down. Didn’t Lestrade said we didn’t need to hurry?"
"Don’t say nonsense. It’s a case, John! We need to go, get out of bed,” he said while lowering himself down to give John a kiss. John smiled, he was just about to ask Sherlock for his missing good morning kiss, but as always, the detective beat him to it.
The cab ride there was quiet, but their hands were locked on each other’s all the time, John’s thumb caressing softly, feeling Sherlock’s skin.
“So, did Lestrade said what the case was about?"
"No, don’t care. It’s good to be out of the house for a case."
"You didn’t seem too bothered about staying inside for these last couple of days.” John looked at Sherlock, smirking.
“Not so much, no,” Sherlock said this and then gave John’s lips a small kiss, but he seemed to ask for more, so the next kiss was filled with promises and intent.
The last few days had been amazing. Sherlock and John had just finished investigating a case, and so John had been preoccupied in giving Sherlock his much-needed care after every case. That also included, of course, endless hours spent on the bed, making Sherlock laugh and blush and moan. God, John loves to make Sherlock blush, to see the contrast between the pink and the pale white of Sherlock’s face.
That was happening now, in the cab, when John understood the intent in the kiss and reciprocated. When they both parted, they looked at each other and joined their foreheads together.
God, Sherlock thought, I want to marry this man. I want to wake up by his side every day for the rest of my life. I want to be taken care of by him every time I end a case. I want his hands on mine forever. I want to hear him say yes on the altar and I want to be introduced to people as Sherlock Watson. Yes, I want his name, I want to have him any way I can.
Emotions overcame him, he couldn’t stop smiling.
“What are you thinking about?” John whispered.
“You.” Simple enough of an answer, John thought.
The cab arrived at its destination and Sherlock stepped out, leaving John to pay the fare. The crime scene was inside a house, and he could see Lestrade and his team waiting outside for him, police tapes surrounding the place and officers protecting the perimeter.
Walking in the direction of the crime scene, Sherlock felt distracted. All he could think about was how his name would sound with ‘Watson’ at the end. That made him blush once again. He could hear John running behind him, and so he swept these thoughts out of his mind. Tried, anyway. Curious, what love does to one’s mind…Concentrate, you have a case to solve.
By this time, John was already by his side. As they both were ready to cross the police line, an officer stopped them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He yelled at them.
“Where’s Lestrade?” Sherlock said with the most boring tone of voice he could ever find. “Tell him Sherlock Watson is he-"
The realization came over him as he said that word and he stopped in time, wondering how could he be so careless. They were only together for a few weeks, John wouldn’t be happy about his. Oh god, I’m so stupid!
The police officer stared at him, waiting and unsure of what to do, clueless about what really happened. Sherlock didn’t have the courage to look at John, not now.
"Hmm… sorry,” He said with a lump in his throat, “tell Lestrade Sherlock Holmes is here and make yourself useful,” Sherlock snapped at the young man with bitterness in his words, thinking it could cover for the worry his voice really transpired. As he watched the poor man running to the house, Sherlock stared at it and not once glanced at John, who was at his side. He could hear John’s footsteps on the pavement and his breathing.
“‘Sherlock Watson, then?” There was an emphasis on the last name and Sherlock almost shivered at that.
“It was nothing. Forget about it,” Sherlock delivered in a cold attitude, not wanting to prolong this conversation any longer.
John put himself in front of him. “You know what? I think that could work nicely.” His voice was soft and sweet. Sherlock couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Now, Sherlock’s eyes looked for John’s in a hurry and all he could find in them was understanding and wanting. John was smiling like a child.
Something broke the connection between them and John went back to where he was standing. The young officer had come back and with him was Lestrade.
“Sorry about that, he’s new around here,” Lestrade said glancing a defying look to the new officer, “thanks for coming, but I don’t know if you’re going to find this one interesting."
He was right, it was a rather easy case and Sherlock and John were back at the house a few hours later. The afternoon passed and Sherlock couldn’t stop thinking about anything else. Later that night, when they were already in bed snuggling with each other, Sherlock spoke soft like a whisper into John’s ear, "Were you serious about what you said, this morning?"
"Sherlock, Love, of course. I was serious."
There was not a shrink of doubt in his voice. He shifted so he was looking down on Sherlock, his hand on Sherlock’s curls, drawing circles on his scalp.
"Look, I know this – us – is relatively new. But Sherlock, I know for a fact I don’t want to spend another day without you. It’s you, Sherlock, it has always been you. So…why wait? If you want to be called Sherlock Watson, let’s bloody do it then."
This filled Sherlock with a warm, cosy feeling inside his belly. He didn’t know what to respond, so he did it in another way. He kissed John with everything he had, his hands all over John like he was trying to memorise every single curve on John’s body.
"I love you, John."
John stared into Sherlock’s eyes, "I love you too, more than anything.”
I would love for you to tell if you liked it or not, and possibly give some constructive criticism!!