"No, no! All wrong. I swear you have two left feet!" Sherlock exclaims and you and John groan.
"He's not going to be perfect, Sherlock," you point out.
"He's not even good. I'm not expecting perfect, just decent at the least."
For the last hour, Sherlock has been teaching John how to dance for the wedding with you standing in as Mary. You're relatively coordinated on your feet from sneaking around for investigation for years, but John is another story.
"Let's start over," Sherlock says, replaying the violin music. "Step, step, turn, dip."
You sigh, putting your right hand on John's shoulder then your left in his as he does the same except rests his left hand on your upper back. You both take a breath and begin moving to the music.
"Yes, that's great," Sherlock says, watching both of your footwork.
You and John end by him slightly dipping you then bringing you back up.
"Can we be done now? Mary and I have plans," John says.
"Yes, yes, go," Sherlock replies, pausing the music.
"Bye, (Y/N)," John says, exiting the room.
"Bye," you say.
You turn back and move in front of Sherlock. "You wrote that, didn't you?"
"Yes. I plan on composing something for the wedding too."
You slip an arm around his waist. "You're going to play in front of everyone?"
"That's the plan."
"Are you nervous about that too?" you tease.
"Giving speeches is something I'm rubbish at, but playing the violin is a talent. I know how much you love when I do," Sherlock responds with a smirk.
"Your violin playing is literally the only reason why I'm attracted to you," you claim.
Sherlock's smirk drops and he stares seductively into your eyes, wraps his arms around your body and brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. "Is it?" he whispers so darkly and menacingly that a shiver runs down your spine.
Shit.
"W-well, I-I," you stutter.
Sherlock smirks again and places a kiss on your cheek. "That's what I thought."
"Now that's not fair!" you complain. "You know how riled up you get me."
"Do I?"
"It's the same as if I did this," you say, grabbing the back of Sherlock's head and bringing him down so you can attach your lips to his neck.
You graze your teeth and lips along the skin until he lets out a low growl. Without another second to spare, Sherlock throws you over his shoulder and proceeds to the bedroom that you officially moved into a week ago.
♖♖♖
"I finished the speech," Sherlock announces.
"Read it to me," you say, skipping over and plopping down in Sherlock's chair as he stands in the middle of the room with note cards.
He nervously clears his throat and begins reading. You listen at his fluent words and later on feel yourself tear up at the sentiment involved. Sherlock finishes the long speech with an exhale of breath.
"That was amazing. I'm very proud of you," you say, getting up and bringing him in for a hug.
"You don't think it's too much?" he questions.
"Not at all. It was simply perfect," you whisper into his shoulder.
"I hope John and Mary think that. I don't want to ruin anything."
You pull away and laugh while patting his cheek. "You won't ruin a thing. The wedding will be here and over before you know it. It's only a few months away."
"I just want it to be done so we can go back to our exciting lives instead of boring traditions like marriage," Sherlock replies.
"You think marriage is boring?" you inquire.
"Don't you? It's such an overrated perception."
"Perhaps. But I do see the charm in tying yourself to someone and letting the world know who you belong to."
Sherlock ponders for a moment before simply nodding at you. "All right. Enough of that. We have to go look at a case."
You sigh and go to your shared bedroom to grab your jacket that is laying on the dresser.
"Can you grab my scarf? I think I left it in the wardrobe," Sherlock calls from the living room.
"Yeah," you reply, slipping on your jacket, walking over to the wardrobe and opening it.
You scan for Sherlock's blue scarf when your eye catches something on the top shelf that is reflecting off the light. You reach up and realize it's a picture frame. Slowly bringing it down, you almost burst out laughing by what's in the frame: young Sherlock and Mycroft.
Your face starts turning red from holding in your laughter and you clutch your stomach from the pain. Tears spring in your eyes and you wipe them away just as Sherlock enters the room to see what's taking you so long. You point at him and finally let your hysterics fill the room.
"Oh my God," Sherlock whispers with wide eyes as he sees what's in your hand.
"You were so cute! But Mycroft-" you laugh harder as Sherlock angrily snatches the photo away from you. "Come on. You were adorable as a teenager."
Sherlock examines the photo. "Yeah, before the drugs."
Your laughter calms down and you rub his arm in sympathy. "Don't think about that. Instead, look at Mycroft hair!"
Sherlock grins and awards you with a chuckle. "He should've kept it."
"Why do you keep the picture?" you ask.
Sherlock slowly frowns again and puts the picture back on the shelf and closes the wardrobe. "To remind me of who I used to be before my mind kind of went haywire. I was still an asshole back then, but it was a couple of years after that photo that I completely lost it."
"And you don't think, even after the drugs, that you're close to who you used to be?"
"Not a chance. Besides, I'm much cleverer now," he shrugs.
"Well, for the record, I like who you are now," you reply.
Sherlock smiles thoughtfully and brings you in for a hug. "Yeah, me too."
YOU ARE READING
Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) works for Mycroft Holmes and has for years, but when Mycroft's brother, Sherlock, fakes his suicide, Mycroft needs someone to take his place. He decides there is no one better than (Y/N) who has nearly identical abilities to his little b...
