'You sure you want to do this?' John checked, looking Sherlock in the eyes and holding tightly onto both his shoulders.
'Can't let my best man out alone at a time like this,' Sherlock responded, a tight curl on his lips. John smiled back and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek. He linked his arm through Sherlock's and their fingers intertwined. Sherlock squeezed John's hand and they headed downstairs to where the taxi was waiting.
'You positive you want to do this?' John asked again once they were in the cab and rolling down the busy London streets. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.
'It's just a party, how bad can it be?' He stated. 'Just as long as I avoid people,' he added the last part under his breath.
John couldn't help beaming at Sherlock. He wore his smile proudly, right until the cab stopped and they had to get out. Sherlock paid the driver and slammed the door behind the two.
'What are we celebrating again?' Sherlock asked.
'It's New Years,' John said.
Sherlock made a pfft sound. 'New Year: New me. Pah! How does a minute change anything? It's just empty promises and resolutions formed under fireworks and drunk kisses.'
'Be nice, Sherlock,' John muttered to his partner as they entered the hall. Greg was the first to greet them. He was obviously already hammered, which was an obvious deduction from his clingy hugs and slurred words. Molly came over to them, her arms wrapped around her new Fiancée; Tom.
'Happy New Years, you guys,' she said happily.
'Happy New Years, Molly,' John replied.
'Yeah,' Sherlock murmured, before dragging John off to the dance floor.
'Sherlock you know I don't dance,' John complained, taking Sherlock's hand in his and placing his free hand on his shoulder. Sherlock smirked without a world and pulled John across the floor in a waltz.
'Amuse me,' Sherlock said, leaning in for a kiss. John did not resist and let Sherlock dip him like they did in the old Romantic films.
'People are looking,' John warned, as Sherlock pulled him back up. They were getting the odd glare from couples; obviously disapproving their relationship. Sherlock just brushed them off.
'Let them.'
He twirled John around pushed him against him tighter. His hand crept down John's back, his thumb hooking onto the waist band of his pants.
'Not here, Sherlock,' John teased, pulling Sherlock's hands back up to his waist.
'I'm assuming that's a hint, Doctor.'
'You'd know better than me, Sherlock.'
The song changed to a far slower melody.
'I know this piece,' Sherlock said. He began humming it and John rested his head on the Detectives shoulder, swaying in time to the music. Sherlock let go of John's hand and rested them on his back, holding him protectively. John nuzzled Sherlock's neck, sending an upwards waterfall of kisses till he reached his lips. The kiss started slow and tender, their lips pressing against each other and pulling away teasingly.
John knew how to tease Sherlock.
His hand crept up into his boyfriends dark, soft curls. He fingered each one, letting them tangle up in his fingers. He twirled a particular strand around his finger, tugging on it tightly and causing Sherlock to moan. John pressed a finger to Sherlock's lips and murmured, 'Not here, Sherlock.'
'You're just being mean now,' Sherlock complained. John decided to silence anymore complaints by pressing his lips into Sherlock's again – that usually shut him up. They weren't often so open out in public (the constant calls of "Fag!" and other names had put them off public affection), but they were among friends and they both just basically though Fuck It.
When the song ended, Sherlock proposed that they went and got drinks. They let go of each other and wandered over to the bar. It was an open bar (which was useful as Sherlock had blown all their money on the cab ride). Sherlock ordered wine for the two of them.
'Here's to a happy new year,' Sherlock toasted sarcastically when their drinks came. He raised the glass above his head, clinked it with John's, then took a large gulp. He hit it down on the counter so hard that John was surprised it hadn't smashed.
'I've always wanted to do that,' Sherlock said.
'Sherlock!' came a shrill cry from the other end of the hall. 'Sherlock!'
They both turned to the sound and saw an elderly couple running as fast a their artificial hips would let them.
'Do you know them?' John asked.
'Yes,' he muttered. 'They're my parents. Why the hell are they here?' .
'I'm assuming their here to see you,' John guessed.
'Sherlock,' Mrs. Holmes called, cupping his face. 'And ...'
She looked at John, puzzled.
'Sorry, dear, we haven't met before,' she apologized.
They had, actually, twice. But John didn't feel to need to point it out.
'John Watson,' he said, extending his hand.
Her face lit up. She ignored his hand and went straight in for a hug.
'John, deary. I'm sorry. The famous Dr. Watson, we've heard so much about you,' she exclaimed.
John shot Sherlock a look. 'That so?'
Mr. Holmes laughed merrily. 'Never stops talking about you when we see him.'
They turned their attention to Sherlock.
'Why are you here?' Sherlock snapped
'Be nice,' John warned.
'Actually, funny story' – Sherlock sighed – 'Funny story; we came to the wrong event. Your old dad thought we were meant to take a left – I said right.'
'She did,' Mr Holmes chirped in.
'But, funny thing was, we'd been going to wrong way ever since we left the house!'
The punch line caused the old couple to explode in laughter.
'But, we saw you in here and thought we'd say hi,' Mr. Holmes explained.
'Well,' Sherlock began, 'that certainly was a humorous tale. I look forward to hearing more.'
He turned to John. 'Let's dance.'
He led John back to the floor and resumed the waltz position.
'That was a bit rude,' John pointed out.
'You were the one that wanted to see them. Not my fault they lack the basic communication skills.'
'And you're better?' John joked.
'I like to think,' smiled Sherlock. 'Do we really have to stay for the whole thing?'
John groaned. 'I knew you'd do this. Tell you what, we can leave next year.'
'Ha, ha,' Sherlock said, emotionless.
'C'mon, that was good,' John prompted.
'Your ignorance around humor will never cease to amaze me.'
'Go on then.'
'Huh?'
'Give us a joke.'
'TEN!'
'Is it that time already?' John cried.
'NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!''I've got a good one: What did the consulting detective say to the ex-army doctor?' Sherlock said, grabbing John and pulling him towards him so that their faces where inches apart.
Around them, the crowd was cheering; kisses were being exchanged, as were hugs and drinks. Outside, fireworks exploded and the lights bounced about the room.
Sherlock's face leaned in towards John's ear. ' "Will you marry me?" '
John smiled. 'That isn't fair, you didn't give me time to guess.'
'So, what do you say?'
John grabbed Sherlock's back and dipped him, their lips meeting passionately, tongues interlocking, 'You can be a real idiot sometimes,' John said between kisses. 'Of course I say yes.'
'Happy New Year, John.'
'Happy New Year, Sherlock.'