"This is just rubbish." John growled, shoving the crumpled newspaper onto the table, clearly irritated. "Who are they getting to write these things?"
Sherlock acknowledged his friend's outrage with the barest of nods, his eyes practically glued to his microscope. He was used to John complaining about one thing or another after coming home, it seemed that the whole of London was out to make an enemy of the doctor.
"I ought to write in and tell them everything they're writing is wrong!" John exclaimed, "Or at least tell them where they can shove their report."
"Mm." Sherlock replied.
"They don't even know you, I don't see how they have the right to write this shit." John sighed and grabbed the paper up again to read an excerpt for the detective's benefit. He stood and waved his hand around as he spoke, a habit he felt he was picking up from Sherlock. "Sherlock Holmes: a delusional madman. After having returned from the dead the consulting detective continues where he left off, apparently solving mysteries. However we are not convinced! Having been arrested once already on suspicion of involvement of said mysteries, how do we know we can trust this supposed genius?" John made a frustrated noise and tossed the paper back onto the table once more.
Sherlock peered up from his microscope, tilting his head in confusion.
"Why does it bother you so much?" he asked.
"It would bother anyone!" John protested. "Doesn't it bother you?"
"My social standing is only important if it prevents me from continuing my work, the boys at Scotland Yard know I'm not a criminal and that is enough. What the masses believe is unimportant." He shrugged delicate shoulders and returned to his work.
"But, Sherlock...people should be thanking you, not accusing you!" John persisted. "I mean think about how many people you've saved!"
"I'm not a hero, John. I don't do it to save people." Sherlock murmured.
"Oh sod off. Pretend to be selfish, fine." John huffed, sitting back down and grabbing the paper for a third time so he could pretend to be interested in it. Sherlock eyed him up, suddenly less interested in his experiment.
"What, do you think I'm a hero, John?" He smirked. "You shouldn't delude yourself like that."
"Don't be an idiot." John replied. "You're a lot of things Sherlock, you're irritating, ignorant, rude, and sometimes I doubt you're even human but you're not a criminal. You're not a deluded madman either. Whether I think you're a hero or not isn't the problem, I just don't want people spreading lies about you!"
"Why do you care so much?" Sherlock asked again, walking over to where John was seated and perched on the arm of the chair. John squirmed at Sherlock's sudden closeness.
"I just...as a friend, I don't want you to be treated that way." He blushed. "I just want people to know how great you really are...when you're not being a dick that is."
Sherlock stared for a minute, confused as always by human sentiment.
"People will always talk." Sherlock began, "Most of the time what they say is just nonsense...but the entire time all the world thought I was a fraud you believed in me, and that's all I want." Sherlock leaned down and pressed a small kiss against John's forehead, lingering there with his hand on the back of John's head with his fingers tangling themselves in his hair. "You kept writing about me, and believing in me..." Sherlock pulled back and swung himself off the arm of the chair. "That's enough for me when it comes to social standing. I only really care what you think about me, John."