Exist
"Well done, Sherlock!" Lestrade shouts. "The hero of the hour."
Sherlock smiles that smile he has when he doesn't like the attention on him.
John knows that smile well. It's the 'heroes-don't-exist' smile.
"You did well today, love," John says, unpacking the groceries they picked up on the way home.
"It was hardly any trouble," Sherlock says. "Barely challenging at all."
"Nonetheless," John says, "Well done, Hero."
Sherlock smiles that smile down at him.
"I can't believe we walked out of there alive," John says, climbing the steps to their flat while pulling his coat off.
"It was quite scary, I'll have to admit," Sherlock says, following John.
Once they're inside, John wastes no time before pushing Sherlock against the door and kissing him with no finesse. The kiss is frantic and needy and very, very heated.
John breaks away for a breath and stares at Sherlock's kiss-swollen lip. "My hero," he mutters before attacking Sherlock in a kiss once again, leaving no time for the man to give that certain smile.
John and Sherlock stumble up the stairs after a celebratory drink with Lestrade. John fumbles in after Sherlock and grabs Sherlock around the waste as he feels himself fall.
"John!" Sherlock chuckles. "Stand on two feet!"
John looks down at his feet. "They're all jiggly. Like tentacles!"
"Tentacles?" Sherlock asks, peering down at John's feet.
John regains his balance and pulls Sherlock close to him. "Come on, Hero. Let me give you a reward," with that, John wiggles his eyebrows in a seductive manor and begins to unbuckle Sherlock's belt.
"Heroes don't exist, John!" Sherlock chuckles out.
John, nearly on his knees, looks up at Sherlock. "What did you say?" he asks, suddenly very angry.
"I said heroes don't— umf!" Sherlock stumbles backwards and grabs his jaw. "What was that for?"
"Did that hurt, Sherlock?" John demands.
"Well, of course! You just punched me in the— umf!" he stumbles back again, this time the back of his legs hit the coffee table. "Stop shoving me!" Sherlock wipes his mouth, tastes the blood, licks the cut.
"You fucking exist, Sherlock! You're not a bloody machine! You're not an empty body! You. Exist."
"John, what has this got to do with—umf!" he falls back onto the small coffee table with a red-faced John on top of him.
"You exist, Sherlock! You are a real person and a true hero!" John breathes deep in Sherlock's face. "Do you hear me?!"
Sherlock's stomach briefly turns at the smell of liquor on John's breath. He hastily nods.
John's face turns into a deep frown and his eyes swell with tears. He presses his face to Sherlock's, their foreheads pressing together tightly and their noses brushing against each other. "You're a hero to me," John sobs.
Sherlock wraps his arms around John, pulling him close against him. "I know, John," he says. "I know."
*Hello all. I've started these, and they're pretty much just one page ficlets from one word prompts. Please give me one word to write about. Thanks!