"Sherlock," John asks into thin air as he stumbles out of his wedding.

It's his bloody wedding, he's got a pregnant new wife – he's had a few to drink. When he takes a look around, he notices Sherlock is nowhere to be found. He doesn't say where he's going but Mary knows as he kisses her goodbye who he's going after.

John looks 'round again and sees that Sherlock hasn't went far, hasn't left yet. He's sitting on a bench outside of the place. John smiles graciously as he sits beside Sherlock, patting a hand on his friend's knee.

Sherlock looks up at John, sadness buried deep in his eyes and making rest there. "Why aren't you inside dancing with your wife?" Sherlock says the last word like it's bitter on his tongue. Not because he dislikes Mary – he's growing very fond of John's new companion. It is just that he is finding out now how much he is afraid of her replacing him, and it's killing him inside.

"Perhaps two wasn't enough of a crowd," John suggests as a possible explanation as he looks back into the party at his wife. "I told you I wanted to be between the two people that mattered most to me today and you bloody tried to leave."

"Lestrade left, Molly was pre-occupied, Mrs. Hudson was drunk, Janine found another partner," Sherlock pauses, taking a deep breath before the last words dare escape his lips. "And you…"

"I what, Sherlock," John begins to ask before Sherlock grabs the doctor's hand and places it off of his lap to the doctor's side. Sherlock stands up and begins to walk away.

"You said nothing would change," Sherlock says in a trembling voice as he goes to stride away, flipping up his coat around his face as much as possible to hide the tears threatening to spill. Perhaps Mycroft had been right all along – caring isn't an advantage. Sherlock got too close, too attached – too involved. And as predicted, it was ending sour.

John waits until Sherlock's a few more steps out before huffing and following after him. "Nothing has changed," John assures Sherlock, practically running to keep up with the detectives speed-walking.

Sherlock turns around, trying to think what he could do. He wants to keep John safe and happy, he wants to follow his promise and keep John's child away from harm. Away from danger and away from Sherlock in the detective's mind meant the same difference. "Everything has," Sherlock promises, fidgeting unnaturally under the pressure of the moment.

"I promise, nothing has," John says, offering out his hand. "Now, would you please come back in there with me?"

Sherlock winces. "No, I don't think that would be fair," Sherlock answers swiftly, trying to turn away again. Trying to hit a clean break was the best option he felt he could shoot for, for John's sake.

John reaches forward and grasps Sherlock's shoulder. "Aren't you going to dance with me?"

This catches Sherlock's interest. It would not only be dancing, but dancing with John in public? "Surely, that's not traditional. Or acceptable at a wedding – people will talk."

"People already bloody talk," John replies with a grin. "Come off it, I know you've been dying to dance tonight. I can't be that awful of a partner."

"I've taught you as much as I can," Sherlock says, a smile starting to slowly return to his face. Maybe, just maybe, he could stay. Maybe he is wanted. "If you're sure Mary won't mind."

John chuckles as he reaches down and grabs Sherlock's hand. "When has Mary ever minded?"

Sherlock lets himself be pulled along back into the hall. The detective hears a sigh of relief from Molly, who must've been too scared to chase after him before that it would lead her back to old heartbreak. Even Janine looks relieved at Sherlock's return, because while she wasn't going to get to hook up with him she wants him to have some fun and get his time to dance.

John brings Sherlock over to Mary first, a cheeky smile on his face. "I got him back," John announces.

Mary smiles brightly. "So you did," Mary starts before whacking Sherlock on the arm. "Trying to leave our wedding before it's done, shame on you. Let me take that," Mary turns Sherlock around. The detective reluctantly frees his hand from John's to let Mary help pull away his bulky coat. "You boys go have a good dance. I am going to go catch up with Beth."

Mary walks away and Sherlock looks at John. "She really is the perfect woman for you, John."

"For you as well, but don't go getting ideas," John jokes with a soft laugh. He pulls Sherlock in his arms and starts to waltz with his best friend. "We're only your parents on the off occasion that you need us. Which reminds me – just because we're going to be having our own baby, doesn't mean we're not keeping you around. I didn't appreciate you implying that."

"I'm hardly good around children," Sherlock replies as he falls into step with John, having an internal struggle in his mind palace with his emotions. There is a part of him that wants to feel giddy about the dance, a part that wants to feel romanced, and a final that is horrified by its counterparts.

"It'll be fine," John promises, before he notices Sherlock spacing out and away. He pinches Sherlock's side. "What's wrong – not another situation at my wedding is there?"

Sherlock snaps out of it immediately and pleasantly smiles the smile he uses to charm people on cases for John. "Nothing urgent," Sherlock replies quickly, wanting to change the subject.

"I love you too, just so you know," John whispers only for Sherlock to hear.

Sherlock feels the shock threatening to settle in. He swallows once, thickly, and thinks he should start making sure he truly replies with words this time. "You are my best friend, I love you," Sherlock says the words almost as if questioning if they really can exist.

John nods. "Yeah, that's close enough."

"Close enough?" Sherlock asks, quirking an eyebrow. "What else is there the possibility of?"

"You wouldn't remember," John says with a weak grimace. "I am just appreciative to have two people who love me so much, very grateful I love them both back."

It hits Sherlock hard, quickly. "You…you love me?" Sherlock chokes out, hardly believing his ears.

"Yes," John whispers back, hugging Sherlock tighter to him for a moment before letting loose again. "I've been trying to tell you for weeks, but you kept getting pre-occupied."

"Like during the case," Sherlock remembers John had begun talking about influences in his life before he infiltrated the guard's quarters on the last case he had spoken of in his wedding speech.

"That was one instance," John agrees with a nod. "Then, there was the stag party. Both of us were drunk. However, you beat me to the punch."

"What?" Sherlock asks, searching back and desperately trying to remember.

Sherlock sways back and forth in his seat, in the middle of a game with John. "Am I a pretty lady?" just weren't words that he was expecting to hear from the army doctor ever in his lifetime, and he just couldn't stop laughing.

John leans forward and grabs his knee. Sherlock freezes. Even in his drunken state, this is strange and new territory. John pulls away and Sherlock fears this will cause an issue before John shrugs like it couldn't have mattered whatsoever by the implications of the action and places the hand back in the same resting place.

Sherlock tries to lock eyes with John for a few moments, failing and moving back and forth too much to keep contact on several occasions. "I love you," Sherlock mumbles.

John squeezes harder around Sherlock's knee with his palm. "Excuse me?"

"I love John Hamish Watson with everything," Sherlock takes a minute to steady himself, losing his words and having to start a new course. "He's the only person I have ever found close to attractive."

"Guess I am pretty, then," John replies before erupting into giggles.

Sherlock leans forward and messily crashes his lips onto John's once, only one kiss in a mess of lips and teeth and tongue, before pulling away and slumping back in his chair again. Sherlock resumes the game, pretending like it didn't happen. Waiting for John to admit it did.

Sherlock lets the memories flood back and flushes, legitimately flushes. "I apologize," Sherlock whispers as he twirls them around on the dance floor again, catching Mary's eyes as he turns and feeling guiltier than ever.

John shakes his head. "I've already told you that I feel the same," John replies quietly, following Sherlock's gaze to Mary before looking back at him. "She knows too – she doesn't mind."

Sherlock furrows his brow. "That's confusing."

"It's wonderful too, is it not?" John replies with a bright smile.

Sherlock calms his features, thinking only pure joy as reality sets in. He's getting everything he could possibly want – almost everything. "Why haven't the two of you moved back to Baker Street?"

"We can, I've discussed it with Mary," John says with a sigh of relief, happy that Sherlock isn't freezing up like a broken computer under the weight of these emotions like with the last revelations. "The action was just awaiting your invitation."

"Of course," Sherlock says with a nod, gulping once. "This is going to be an interesting feat," the detective inquires.

John nods. "Very interesting indeed," John agrees.

"I should leave you back to her tonight, it's your wedding to her," Sherlock muses as he goes to let John loose, finally satisfied with having his chance to dance.

John keeps his grip for a moment. "You can't leave on us, alright? Promise – because if you try another Reichenbach and you try to come back from it, I will kill you myself."

"I promise," Sherlock responds with a light-hearted laugh.

John releases Sherlock only long enough to grab the detective's hand and pull him out of the reception hall. No attention is paid to them, strangely but in the best way for privacy. John pulls Sherlock up to the first spare room and unlocks it, pulling the consulting detective inside with him. Once the door is shut behind them, John reaches up and smashes his lips to Sherlock's.

Sherlock responds as immediately as he can, reaching down to wrap his arms around John and kissing back with as much further as his innocent body can handle. John pulls away with a gentle smile. Sherlock speaks first. "Was that incentive for me to stay?"

John shakes his head. "No, I just couldn't go any longer without having done that," John admits. "Can we stay a while?"

"It's your wedding night," Sherlock states in fact and shock.

John nods. "Mary knows where I am, what might happen. If she wants me, she'll come and fetch me."

"Let the games begin," Sherlock says with a smile before letting his lips descend onto John's again, gripping harder around the doctor's body before letting his hands begin to explore.