John took a deep breath, approaching the wooden door but not knowing whether or not he should push it open and go in. He knew that Sherlock was waiting behind that door, he knew that the poor boy must be wondering what was taking so long, he must be doubting himself. But Irene was right, if John let himself be consumed by Sherlock's love then how difficult would it be to take his life not a week later? John sighed heavily but shook his head, no; he wasn't going to let Sherlock's death get in the way of his life. Sherlock deserved life, if anything John's presence in his life was going to be the best thing that ever happened to him, even if it was the very thing that would stop his heart forever. John pushed open the wooden door and walked into the dark throne room, the beautiful marble room engulfed in shadows, with a single man sitting on the throne in tears. John could hear his weeping long before he saw Sherlock, but he knew that it was him, there would only be one man in here waiting for someone he thought would never come.
"Sherlock?" John whispered, walking very quietly over to the throne as to not disturb him. Sherlock picked up his head hopefully, looking at John with broken and desperate eyes.
"John, you...you came!" he exclaimed, looking as if he wanted to get off of the throne but couldn't. He remained seated, a small, sad smile on his lips.
"Yes of course, I would never leave my king waiting." John insisted, walking right up to the front of the throne and dropping to one knee, bowing his head in respect. There was silence, as if neither of them knew quite what to do. John knew that maybe this was wrong, but it also felt right, everyone who ever had an audience with the king on his throne had to kneel.
"I may be the king of Lauriston but I am not your king." Sherlock insisted. "You do not obey me." John picked up his head, looking Sherlock right in the eyes softly but determinedly. Sherlock looked right back at him, and even though he was in the most powerful chair in the entire kingdom, he looked weak, scared even. As if John's glare was enough to make him cower in his golden throne.
"I have your answer." John said, still not standing up. It felt appropriate that Sherlock look down on him, instead of the other way around.
"I have not asked you anything." Sherlock insisted, as if he didn't know why they were meeting here in the deserted throne room, watched only by the statues of the kings since passed.
"But you wanted to." John pointed out. There was a silence broken only by Sherlock's sharp inhale of breath, leaning forward ever so slightly on the throne as if to hear John better.
"Yes, I did." Sherlock agreed. John looked at him but he dared not smile, this was such a serious conversation that any show of positive emotion would be considered inappropriate. This was professional, this was intimate, there was no time for anything except affection.
"You wanted to ask me if I loved you as well, if your feelings are returned." John pointed out, rising to his feet so that Sherlock had to raise his eyes to look at him. The king looked nervous, a small blush appearing in his cheeks, a soft red hue dispute the darkness.
"Yes, I must know." Sherlock agreed, sitting up straighter in his throne as if trying to look official. But his eyes were soft, they were desperate, they were longing, he had all the power in the world but no matter what he did, he would never get John to step closer without the other man's consent.
"You want to know whether or not I long for you as well, for your affection, for your love." John insisted, walking closer to the throne so that Sherlock had to raise his glare once more, tilting his head up just to look John properly in the eyes.
"Yes of course, I want my love to be returned with just as much ferocity." Sherlock agreed.
"You want to know if I am willing to break every law known to man, those that come from our leaders and those that come from our God." John added.
"Yes of course, there is a sacrifice that must be made." Sherlock agreed. John started to walk around the throne ever so slightly, but he never broke eye contact, and neither did Sherlock. The king twisted around in his throne, but he still couldn't leave it, as if he were tethered to the golden chair of kings. His green eyes shone with hunger, with lust, he needed John every bit as much as John needed him. He was so close yet so far, there was only a wall of social status between them, the back of a golden throne that separated the king from the servant.
"You need to know if I will embrace you, love you, be your light in the darkness and your hope when all is lost." John insisted, letting one of his fingers trail the edge of the golden chair, Sherlock's eyes following it hopefully. But John walked around to the other side of the throne, making Sherlock turn once more, twisting his body completely so that he could keep his eyes locked with John's. He seemed to be cowering, every muscle in his body aching with anticipation, he couldn't wait to hear John's answer, the answer they both knew was coming.
"Please John, please." Sherlock whispered, turning so that he could sit normally on his throne, watching as John stepped in front of him once more.
"Well, you know what I say Sherlock?" John wondered mysteriously, looking into Sherlock's eyes with such fire, with such determination, it was no wonder Sherlock looked so scared.
"Yes, say yes." Sherlock begged, still unable to rise from his throne. John held out a helping hand, to which Sherlock took with care, with suspicion, as if wondering whether or not John was going to pull him from the throne or dislocate his shoulder. But John wrapped his fingers around Sherlock's hand and pulled him to his feet, making the king stumble into his arms, standing chest to chest for a moment and staring into each other's eyes. Their heartbeats matched each other's, beating so violently in their chests that their ribs might just break.
"I say yes." John whispered, and with that he let his hands fall onto the sides of Sherlock's face, pulling him down into the most majestic of kisses the both of them could manage. Sherlock's lips quivered in fear, kissing John back to the best of his ability, but he was simply stunned to do much else. John could feel the love leaking out of the king's pours, flowing into John's body and filing him with new life. Sherlock's arms wrapped around John's shoulders, John could feel his pulse beating through his fingers, he could feel the nervous shaking of the king as their lips interlocked again and again, kissing each other as if it were the last thing they would ever be able to do. And suddenly Sherlock stumbled back onto his throne, pulling John down with him so that they were both seated atop the king's chair, except that didn't stop them. Sherlock was king, sitting atop the throne with his lover, with his very soul, and it was fitting that in that very seat he received his first kiss, in the chair of the ruler he broke one of the most important laws of them all. But together they broke the law, together they sinned, and together their hearts became one, their love flowing through their lips until they were choking on it, until they were so submerged in the other's emotions and the other's form that they simply couldn't breathe anymore, they had to pull away. Sherlock finally pulled his lips away, retreating so desperately that his head fell to the back of the velvet chair, breathing so heavily that John could feel his chest rising and falling. There were beads of sweat dripping from Sherlock's forehead, he sat there and stared at the ceiling as if he were still trying to process this whole thing.
"Had enough?" John whispered. Sherlock breathed a breath of agreement, of relief. Just to be difficult John pulled his chin forward and kissed him one last time, softer, gentler kiss, passing the last bit of love he could before sliding off of the throne and getting to his feet once more. Sherlock sat on the throne, holding his head up with his hand as though it would fall off his neck if he didn't, a smile of relief on his face that could only mean one thing. He was satisfied.
"John..." he muttered, looking up at the man who stood before him.
"Sherlock?" John wondered, smiling back down at the king. Sherlock just shook his head, as if this were all happening so fast, as if he simply couldn't process it all.
"I love you." Sherlock breathed. John smiled in satisfaction, that was the exact response he had been hoping for.
"Good night your majesty." John said very vaguely, winking very quickly at the king before bowing his way out of the room, a smile creeping onto his lips as he slipped out of the throne room. He left Sherlock there to sit for a moment, to regain his self-control and to process just what kind of miracle had just happened. He knew that he had left the king completely flustered, completely helpless. He was so emerged in love that he couldn't get out; he was drowning in the love that only John's presence could offer. So John left, hoping that somehow Sherlock could swim to the surface and learn how to breathe once more.

"Okay, so tell me everything that happened from the time you got there to the time you left." Greg demanded, leaning on the wall in the darkened corridor right next to an ugly painting of a past princess. John sighed heavily, feeling the need to jump up and down in excitement, or maybe just go and kiss Sherlock once more, just to make sure this whole thing wasn't just a wonderful dream.
"Alright, so first we kind of talked..." John muttered, very keen to leave out what they were talking about and how. Although it really wasn't explicit, John didn't want Greg to know each and every thing that he and Sherlock did together.
"Alright, talking, good start, good start. What next?" Greg wondered, looking at John with very excited eyes. John just shook his head, he couldn't believe he was actually telling Greg all this, he couldn't believe that this had actually happened in the first place! It had been such a wonderful and eventful night, his lips were still tingling from the kiss, as if he had just drunken acid or something but instead of killing him it renewed his will to live.
"So then you know he kind of asked like, do you love me? And I was like, ya." John shrugged, as if this was exactly how casually it went down. "And then we kissed."
"Was it like a short little peck or was it like AH LET ME EAT YOUR FACE! Because there are two different types of kisses." Greg pointed out. John felt his face grow a little bit red, maybe it was better he didn't tell Greg anything. Oh well, too late now.
"More like the second one. " John decided, feeling a bit embarrassed to admit it. But Greg smiled proudly, as if he had been waiting for John to have a proper royal make out session.
"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant." He decided. "How was it? Is he a good kisser?" John couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head in honestly.
"No, not really. I don't think he's ever kissed anyone, so I think it was all me." John decided.
"He's never kissed anyone with such ferocity." Greg insisted, waving his hands in the air to make his sentence more dramatic. John just blushed again, staring down at his feet in the darkened corridor in embarrassment.
"He's never kissed anyone, but I think that was a good start, if I can say so myself." John admitted.
"And it will only get better, of course. You love him like, properly love him?" Greg wondered. John shrugged, that really was the question now, wasn't it?
"I love him yes, I think he's beautiful and a good guy and all of that, I don't know your definition of properly though." John admitted. Greg thought for a moment, resting his chin on his hand like a true intellectual.
"Like, you want to spend the rest of your life with him?" Greg wondered.
"Still working on that one." John decided. "But if I could spend my life kissing someone like that, then yes."
"It's about the emotional love, not the physical love." Greg pointed out, and John nodded in agreement.
"I know, I know it was a joke." John defended. "It's definitely a good quality though."
"Oh definitely." Greg agreed. "Maybe I should schedule a meeting with Molly in the throne room tomorrow night."
"Oh shut up Greg, honestly! I don't think she likes you that much." John decided.
"And why wouldn't she? I'm a perfectly able bodied man, she'd be lucky to have me." Greg insisted.
"She's a noble Greg, you're a servant." John pointed out.
"Well you're a servant to, and here you are making out with the king!" Greg insisted. John sighed passively; he had a point, of course.
"Yes well, the king was in love with me first; here you're the one chasing her down. It's different the other way around." John decided. Greg sighed, looking at John in annoyance.
"I'm starting to suspect you don't want us together. Come on John, how much fun would it be in five years, when you and Sherlock are married and Molly and I are married, we could go on double dates!" Greg insisted.
"As tempting as that is..." John muttered. Greg scowled at him, but raising his eyebrows to insist that John finish his sentence. "I don't know, it just seems weird. But all the power to you."
"Whatever, obviously you're the only one here that can have a love life." Greg muttered, looking rather moody.
"I'm not saying you can't be with her!" John defended, really hoping Greg wasn't genuinely upset.
"It kind of does!" Greg defended. John sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry Greg; I didn't want to dull your self-esteem." He muttered. Greg just shook his head, a smile of uncertainty on his face.
"You're a total jerk." He decided, but John knew that he was done being angry, at least for now.
"So are you." John defended.
"Fair enough." Greg agreed, pushing himself away from the wall and starting off down the hallway. "Come on king kisser, time for bed." he instructed.
"Don't call me that." John insisted, but nevertheless he followed, deciding that it was in no one's best interest to argue.

     That morning was really complicated. Everyone knew something had gone on, all of the servants were up very early and already they were glancing over at where John lay, as if expecting him to suddenly burst out of bed and exclaim all his secrets to the world. But no, he just lay there with a smile on his face, staring up at the ceiling and imagining that Sherlock lay next to him. When he had told Greg he couldn't see a life together with Sherlock he had been lying, he knew that in a perfect world he and Sherlock could have everything together. There was no one that John would rather have a life together, he would get married and be a king and adopt all these little children and they would ha vena amazing, happy life. Except that wasn't going to happen. Sherlock wasn't going to live after this week, and John was going to have to be the one to kill him. As much as he loved his new boyfriend he had to love his family even more, they were the ones that had to come first as much as John didn't like it. Sherlock was amazing, he deserved the world and anyone in it, but John knew that he had to protect his mother, father, and sister before anyone else. Sherlock was king, a complete stranger as of three or so weeks ago, and John's family was just that, his family, he responsibility. He was the only one in the world capable of making sure his parents and sister made it out alive, and if Sherlock didn't die, then they would have to. And that wasn't going to happen, it simply couldn't.
"John come on, just because you now have a special title doesn't mean you can lie around all morning." Greg insisted. All of the servants perked up hopefully, wondering if Greg was going to be the one to spill the beans instead of John. Greg did have a much bigger mouth, and a much louder voice, if this secret was going to leak out obviously it was going to be Greg's fault. But then again, it wouldn't be the most horrible thing in the world that everyone knew John has had the privilege of kissing Sherlock Holmes. From John's standpoint it would be amazing, a simple servant being able to win over the king's heart. But from Sherlock's point of view, the news would mean he sunk even lower. A king, a man who could have any woman he desired, had fallen for a simple servant boy, it would ruin him. Not only was he weak, scrawny, and a pathetic excuse for a fighter, if word got out that he was homosexual as well they would most certainly take his crown away, not to mention throw him in jail. No, for Sherlock's sake John had to keep this a secret and Greg had to keep his mouth shut.
"I'm coming, I'm coming." John groaned, pulling himself out of bed and getting dressed as quickly as possible. The rest of the servants were already out the door by the time John was ready to go, so he quickly pulled a comb through his hair and scampered out the door with the rest of them, hoping that he would see a certain royal along the way.