“Mummy will be most displeased.”
“No doubt,” John agrees, carefully picking up his tea cup and taking a delicate sip. He looks at his partner, who’s standing by the window but keeping himself in the shadows and he rolls his eyes good naturedly, thinking some habits die hard. “About what?” he asks after a beat and Sherlock turns to him, arching an eyebrow questioningly making John huff, mildly amused. “She’s always displeased about something. The nice weather. The good crops. The general happiness and peace all over the Kingdoms. The fact you went and married the Prince you were supposed to curse. So, take your pick.”
Sherlock watches him in silence for a couple of beats before chuckling, his whole body shaking as he laughs. John smiles, endeared, wondering how could he have ever believed him to be an actual Evil Sorcerer.
“You’ve got a point,” Sherlock acknowledges, his eyes still shining with mirth as he comes to stand closer to him, offering his hand to him. The Prince takes it obediently, allowing the sorcerer to pull him upwards so they’re pressed chest to chest and smiles brightly as Sherlock leans down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “That last one seems to be a perpetual source of displeasure for her,” Sherlock adds, one hand cupping John’s cheek lovingly. “I imagine she’ll be even more displeased about Mycroft, though.”
“Ah,” John says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yes. I suppose she won’t take it kindly that her favorite son has gone ahead and followed your steps.” He chuckles, incapable of holding himself back as he imagines the look on the Evil Queen’s face when she realizes just how badly Mycroft’s plan backfired.
“It’s no laughing matter, John,” Sherlock chastises, but he’s smiling too. “Her ire shall be great and her revenge shall reach far.”
John scoffs, more amused than anything. Powerful as the Queen might have been, it was a long time ago: she no longer has the power to curse the whole land. “Well, we could always try sending Greg to talk her out of it. He’s truly a Prince Charming.”
Sherlock glares and John laughs, amused by his partner’s jealousy. He presses a quick kiss against the side of his cheek, the only place he can reach without Sherlock leaning down and smiles brightly at him. “Don’t be silly. You know you’re the only one for me.” Sherlock beams at that, proud as a peacock and John laughs once more. “But Greg is really charming,” he says once more. “If anyone could talk your mother out of anything, it’d be him.”
Sherlock hums, but doesn’t comment, choosing instead to pull the shorter man in for a long kiss that leaves John breathless and makes him forget all about the older Sorcerer, his Prince Charming and the trouble that’s bound to arise once the Queen finds out.
He has better things to think about, after all.