About forty minutes and many, many camera flashes later, John and Sherlock finally got some time to themselves before they were to arrive at the reception. The minute the photographer had begun packing up his equipment to carry to the ballroom, Sherlock had grabbed John's hand and practically dragged him to a secluded corridor. John didn't even get a chance to ask what Sherlock was doing before he was shoved against the nearest wall and Sherlock's lips attached themselves to the skin of John's neck, sucking at the junction where neck met shoulder.

"Sherlock," John gasped, a hand reaching up to bury itself in Sherlock's curls, "What, what are-" He was silenced as Sherlock lifted his head to place a hard kiss on John's mouth.

"You know, as gorgeous as you look in that tux," Sherlock mumbled against John's lips. "I simply cannot wait to get it off of you." Sherlock resumed kissing John then, and John kissed back as enthusiastically as he was being kissed, and mere moments later he became aware of an increase in pressure against his hip. He shifted slightly, heard the faint moan Sherlock gave, and pulled away.

"Sherlock, stop." The second John had pulled away, Sherlock reattached his lips to his neck, sucking even harder this time with the very obvious intent of leaving a mark. John could only imagine what their guests would say if they saw John sporting a hickey at the reception. John grabbed a handful of Sherlock's hair and pulled him away, earning himself a glare from his husband. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"I thought it was fairly obvious." As if to make his point clearer, Sherlock moved his hands to John's hips and pulled him impossibly closer, making it impossible for John to mistake the bulge in Sherlock's trousers as anything other than what it was.

"Sherlock, though I do appreciate the enthusiasm, we are in public."

"There's a supply closet several meters down this corridor." John felt his face flush at the sound of Sherlock's voice so deep in his ear, but managed to keep a clear head and placed his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, pushing only enough to be able to look into Sherlock's eyes.

"Sherlock, I don't want the consummation of our marriage to be a 'quickie' in a supply closet. And, we've got a reception to get to alright?" John rested his head against the wall behind him and stared at Sherlock, who was pointedly avoiding eye contact. John found his sudden shyness quite amusing, considering the position they were currently in. John then began wishing that his tuxedo trousers hadn't been so perfectly tailored to fit him. He could surely use a bit more room beneath the belt at the moment.

Sherlock heaved a heavy sigh and stepped back, his eyes downcast.

"Yes, I suppose we should actually get through the rest of our wedding before we partake of more amorous activities..." he tightened his hold on John's waist and gave him a cheeky smile. "There will be plenty of time for it later."

John chuckled and grabbed Sherlock's hand, lacing their fingers together and giving a slight squeeze. He stretched up to plant a kiss at the corner of Sherlock's mouth, and just when Sherlock started to turn his head to bring their lips together John pulled away.

"Tease," Sherlock murmured against John's temple. John's only response was to give a slight tug on his hand and lead him to the ballroom entrance. John stood close enough to Sherlock that he could feel the warmth coming from him, and it still wasn't close enough. John took a step closer to his new husband and trapped their hands between their sides. Sherlock looked down at him, amused, but said nothing because in that moment the doors were opened and they were greeted with the sight of all their wedding guests seated around round tables, clapping for them.

John and Sherlock walked into the room with wide smiles on their faces, both men unable to hide their happiness at being introduced as Doctor and Mister Watson-Holmes. John and Sherlock stood for a moment, waving at their guests, and John was about to start walking to their seats when music started playing; a waltz.

"What's going on?" he asked. Sherlock sighed and turned towards John with an eyebrow raised.

"I believe it is time for our first dance as husbands." John allowed himself to be lead out to the center of the room, and music began playing as Sherlock placed one hand on John's waist, and used the other to grab John's hand. John placed his other hand on Sherlock's shoulder, smiled up at him, and they began moving. John was so busy trying to count his steps that it took him a moment to realize Sherlock was in fact leading. When he noticed this he chuckled and shook his head.

"What?" Sherlock nearly whispered, tightening his hold on John's waist slightly.

"Of course you're leading. Just like everything else, isn't it?" John smiled up at Sherlock, who stared down at him with a confused smile.

"I don't understand." John moved his hand from Sherlock's shoulder to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck. Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed. "You know, if you wanted to lead I'd follow you to the ends of the earth."

John felt as if all of the air had left his body at once and he was left gasping, grasping at bits of oxygen in the air around him. He stared up into Sherlock's eyes, so full of love and nothing else but love, and found himself nearly brought to tears with how happy he was knowing that look was reserved for only him. With great concentration John managed to lean up and kiss him without a misstep in their dance, and when he did a chorus of 'aww's came from all around them. John jumped back a bit, suddenly remembering he and Sherlock were not alone, and rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John tighter than he'd ever thought possible, and bent his elbow, bringing their hands close to their bodies. John laced his fingers through Sherlock's and closed his eyes, allowing himself to become lost in this perfect moment.

"I couldn't have picked a more perfect song for our first dance," John said. "How did you find this?"

"I wrote it." John picked his head up and stared at Sherlock, who simply stared back, a hint of a smile playing at his perfect cupid's bow lips. "This is actually a recording I made last week when you went to Tesco for two hours."

"Yeah, because your brother kidnapped me-" John lifts his head to raise an eyebrow at Sherlock, who just smiles. "You planned that, didn't you?" Sherlock shrugged. John rolled his eyes, but smiled affectionately up at Sherlock, not bothering to keep the emotion from his face or out of his eyes. It was his wedding day, he was allowed to be a bit emotional. Still, John was proud to say there were no tears in his eyes when he looked up at Sherlock.

"Both piano and violin is you?"

"Yes. It's not that hard to layer audio, you know. And though it's been a while since I've played I don't think my piano skills are too terrible. And even if they are I figured the sentimentality of the gesture would make up for it." John placed his head back on Sherlock's shoulder and sighed.

"Of course," he said mainly to himself. "God, I am so getting the better deal here." Sherlock's hand slipped from John's and soon both arms were wrapped tightly around him. Sherlock buried his face in John's neck as John looped his arms around Sherlock's shoulders and he shook his head.

"Never that, John."

The song soon died down and faded away, but John and Sherlock remained in an embrace in the middle of the room long after the music had gone away and the applause died down. It was only when a new song began playing that they separated. John jerked his head in the direction of where their seats were and smiled at Sherlock, who simply nodded and grabbed John's hand. They took their seats at the head table, and the applause quieted down enough for the emcee to announce that the first round of dinner was being served. When the first plates had been delivered and everyone's drink had been poured, Bill Murray, who was seated on John's right, stood from his seat and cleared his throat.

"Well, I guess this is my time to shine," he said, earning a few lighthearted chuckles from the audience. "Right, well, I've known John a long time. We've been through a lot together and, well, I like to say that it brought us very close together. I mean, I'm his best man. That's got to mean something, right?" More laughter. "Anyway, John's a great guy. I knew it from the moment I met him that he had a kind heart. He's a man made to love, and though I don't know Sherlock as well as I know John I know there is not any other person more deserving of him." John reached over and placed a hand over Sherlock's that was resting on top of the table and smiled. Bill reached down and picked up his champagne glass. "To John and Sherlock!"

Everyone raised their glasses, and took a small sip, and when Bill sat down Lestrade stood up.

"Okay, it's my turn now. I'm not gonna be up here long, I promise. Um, well, I will admit that I was quite surprised when Sherlock asked me to be his best man, but I am more delighted than anything. I've known him for years and because of that I know my position is a special one." Sherlock huffed and looked down, and John began massaging the back of his palm with his thumb. Greg glanced down at Sherlock before continuing his speech.

"Sherlock, you are a great man, you always have been. But John here, he makes you a good one. I could tell from the very beginning that you two were perfect for each other, though I hadn't originally thought it would come to this. Marriage, I mean. Though I see now it makes perfect sense. Never before have I seen two people more... in love than you two. I mean, you'd have to blind not to see it and even then you could hear it or something. It's undeniable. I can only hope to find the same happiness for myself that you two have found in each other. You two are the perfect definition of companionship and commitment, and I wish you many happy years together." He picked up his glass and raised it slightly. "To Sherlock and John!"

Everyone toasted once more, and then dinner began. John, who hadn't eaten anything since his sad excuse for a breakfast that morning, was absolutely starving, and dug into his salad with a vigour that would suggest he hadn't eaten in weeks. Sherlock beside him only took small bites of his meal, mostly watching John and surveying the room. After the main dish had been served and eaten, John placed a hand on Sherlock's thigh to get his attention.

"Come on, let's go cut that cake." Sherlock nodded and followed after him.

Ten minutes later Sherlock was sitting at his seat with a scowl on his face, trying to wipe away the icing still on his face and in his hair. John was sitting beside him, gently caressing his knee, offering a half-hearted apology that he knew he didn't need to give, but gave anyway.

"I'm sorry about your hair." Sherlock simply huffed and turned away from him. "Oh come on Sherlock, at least face me. I don't think it would look very well for us to be seen having a row on our wedding day, at our wedding. Tongues might wag and we don't want that." Sherlock remained silent, but turned back towards John. He even leaned in a bit to make it look like they were having an intimate discussion, and John smiled at him. Though Sherlock's mouth was set in a hard line, John could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't truly angry. Not anymore, at least. John turned and watched their guests dancing the night away, then turned back to Sherlock.

"Come on, let's get back out there. I know you love dancing. Don't let a little bit of cake ruin this for you." Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, think of this. Mycroft is currently out on the dance floor, as unbelievable as it is, and if you get close enough to him he might be able to smell the icing in your hair. Think of how much fun that'll be for him."

After a moment Sherlock turned to look at John again, his lips already quirked into his trademark smirk.

"This is why I love you." Before John could react Sherlock was up and on his feet, making a beeline for his brother. John chuckled and went after him, pausing only to greet any guests he hadn't already spoken to. He caught sight of Sherlock standing directly beside Mycroft, who looked rather uncomfortable. Whether it was because he could actually smell the cake on Sherlock or he was just a bit disconcerted because of his close proximity alone, John couldn't tell. Either way, it was hilarious.

John decided to wander around a bit, and even danced with a few guests. Every now and then he would search for Sherlock in the crowd. After a short while John lost sight of Sherlock, but after several seconds of frantic searching he saw him standing at the edge of the dance floor talking with Victor. Sherlock's eyes were on John and he offered a smile when their eyes locked, and John tried his best to smile back. With great effort he tore his eyes away from Sherlock and Victor, and caught sight of Arthur sitting alone at a table.

"What, no dancing?" He asked when he walked over. Arthur just chuckled, then gestured to the seat beside him. He sat down in a vacant seat and glanced over at where Sherlock was standing. Victor was gone now, and in his place stood Mycroft. Both he and Sherlock were staring at Arthur, identical expressions of discontentment adorning their faces. John turned back to Arthur and frowned.

"Um, is it possible that you erm, knew Sherlock or Mycroft before meeting me?" Arthur's lips stretched into a tight smile and he nodded his head.

"Yeah, I knew Sherlock back in Primary. Before I got sent to military school." He sighed. "I was a bit of a bit of a brat back then. I admit I wasn't ... I was a mean kid."

"Hmm, excuse me for a moment, will you?" Arthur nodded his head, and John stood from his seat, quickly crossing the room to stand before his husband and brother-in-law. John was torn between smiling because Sherlock was, in fact, now his husband, and grimacing because that meant Mycroft was his brother as well.

"Sherlock, I need to speak with you." Sherlock simply nodded his head, and just as he started to move Mr. and Mrs. Holmes approached them.

"Hello!" John accepted a hug from his mother-in-law and gave His father-in-law a handshake, smiling and pretending they hadn't interrupted a somewhat important conversation. For a while John and Mr. Holmes discussed football while Sherlock and his mother fretted over Sherlock's cake stained suit.

"I've just been on the phone with Alice," John heard Mrs. Holmes say. He could see Sherlock bristle slightly, but Mrs. Holmes seemed not to have noticed. "She sends her love."

"No she doesn't," Sherlock clipped, stepping back from his mother and towards John slightly. John put an arm around Sherlock's waist and avoided eye contact with everyone. Mycroft, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere, came up with some excuse to get Mr. and Mrs. Holmes to the other side of the room. John sent him a grateful look before turning back to Sherlock.

"Who's Alice?"

"Not important. What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Um, Arthur-" Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes, turning away from John. He took a quick look around to check that no one as watching them, then grabbed Sherlock by the arm and dragged him to an empty corner of the room.

"He bullied you, didn't you?" Sherlock's eyes were glued to the floor as he shrugged.

"I suppose you could say that."

"Oh, Sherlock, why didn't you tell me?"

"Not important."

"Not- Sherlock! You are important. The most important person to me. If you had just told me I wouldn't have invited him to the wedding."

"It was ages ago."

"Doesn't mean it can't still hurt."

"Oh John don't be silly. I'm a grown man. I am not haunted by memories of his playground antics okay?" John sighed and his tongue darted out to wet his lip as he looked around the room. He felt a warm hand pressing against the small of his back and relaxed slightly, leaning into Sherlock's touch.

"I wish you would have told me," he murmured, becoming less agitated with each gentle caress of Sherlock's thumb over the expensive fabric of his tuxedo jacket.

"Though I do appreciate the concern I can assure you John there are no hard feelings between Arthur and I." John sighed and nodded his head, then turned so he could look into Sherlock's eyes.

"Still, I don't think I'll be inviting him over to the flat for tea any time soon." The corner of Sherlock's lip quirked upwards and he have John that look he had come to adore so much, and John held his breath in anticipation of the kiss he knew he was going to get. Sherlock stared at him for a long moment, not calculating or observing, but staring at John as if he were the answer to a question he hadn't even realised needed asking. Though his lips remained sealed the look in Sherlock's eyes spoke volumes, and every unspoken word was like music to John's ears.

Neither John nor Sherlock closed their eyes when their lips met. It felt more intimate this way, being able to look directly into Sherlock's eyes and see every thought that couldn't be communicated through a simple kiss, and know that Sherlock could see the same message written clearly in the blue of John's own eyes.

Sherlock's lips, still pressed against John's, curved into a smile, and John found himself smiling as well before he let his eyelids fall shut and reached up to bury a hand in Sherlock's excessively styled and slightly sticky hair. Sherlock hummed in appreciation and wrapped his long arms around John, holding him so closely they may as well have been one entity. John allowed himself to become lost in the kiss and become lost in the feeling of having his husband's arms so tightly wrapped around him. There could have been an alien invasion in progress, but John wouldn't have noticed it then. All that mattered was that moment, the feel of Sherlock's lips against his own, their hearts beating in tandem with each other.