|Are you still doing prompts? If so, could you do one about Sherlock being, like, four months along or so and becoming self conscious about his appearance and John comforting him?|
awww yes this is adorable :3
"Johhhn!" The cry pealed through the sleepy morning air of 221B, Sherlock’s shrill cry to his mate.
"For God’s sake, what is it??" John tore into the bathroom, where Sherlock was staring at himself sullenly in the mirror. John was halfway through putting on his shirt but had abandoned the task to answer his pregnant lover’s call.
"Another one doesn’t fit…" Sherlock pouted, his long porcelain fingers stroking self-consciously over where his expensive purple button-up pulled over the new bump of his abdomen. "And my face," he continued morosely, stroking his cheeks, "It looks so puffy and horrid…"
John sighed, both in relief and slight annoyance. Who would ever think such a scientific mind like Sherlock Holmes would be such a narcissist? Then again, it wasn’t all too surprising; one of Sherlock’s pairs of Italian leather shoes cost more than half of John’s wardrobe put together. Pregnancy hormones didn’t help either.
"Sherlock, love, you look fine. Promise." John started to head back to his bedroom, but Sherlock didn’t budge.
"No, I look terrible and I feel huge and I don’t want… You don’t want me."
John exhaled slightly, and wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s waist and cupped his baby bump, then laid his head against the back of his neck. Sherlock’s hands came up around his, and his body relaxed with a long breath.
John murmured quietly, “I will always want you, Sherlock Holmes.”
After a few moments of silence he continued. “Right now your body is raging with all sorts of hormones that make you feel confused and hurt and sad and happy and all sorts of things at the same time. I’m sorry that you feel so terribly, and you will get bigger, but you are more attractive than I have ever seen you. Sherlock..”
John turned him around gently and stroked his cheek.
"You’re carrying our child, how could I not love you or want you for that?" To prove his point, John gently unbuttoned the pulling fabric of Sherlock’s shirt, revealing his pale and growing abdomen.
"Hi there," John whispered to it. "I know you’re busy growing in there but I just thought I’d tell you I love you so much, and so does your father, and I love him so much too. You’re beautiful, and making him glow like an angel."
John’s brown eyes upturned for a moment to meet Sherlock’s blue ones, filled with tears. He nuzzled his lover’s belly and kissed it gently.
"You’re beautiful," he murmured again, not sure which entity he was speaking to. But now it didn’t matter. Sherlock let out a choked sound, and suddenly gripped John close to him. John stayed in that spot for a long time, hugging him around his stomach and holding Sherlock’s hand in his. They were a family now, and John Watson would never have it any other way.