Lams Oneshots^^

He was without a weapon, defenseless. An idiot he was for that. And so, John stood in front of the taller man, waiting for the moment he would draw his sword, and John was certain he would meet and untimely end. John growls at the man, and the man clenches his jaw in return. John figures there's nothing to lose, so he might as well let his anger spill out in the form of the sass he's famous for. The man's fingers wrap around the hilt of his sword, his bulky frame outlined by the light from the large window behind him. John doesn't move, he keeps his strong stance. His hand grasps for his sword, though he already knows it won't be there.

John has to resist the urge to recoil when the sword unsheathes, the sharp ring of metal against metal, the sudden shadow of the slim object blocking the sun out of John's eyes. His eyes widen at the sight, but his stomach is calm. He resigned himself to death long ago when he joined the force, it was a promise he had to make. Of course, certain people have made that promise hard to keep, but he pushes those thoughts out of his mind.

The sword glints threateningly in the sun, a grimace on the man's harsh features. The massive wooden doors swing open with a crash, but the tension between the two men acts as a barrier from the outside world and neither of them even flinch. John sets his mouth in a hard line, keeping his eyes locked with the man, challenging him to do it. Suddenly, the man's eyes crinkle, the corners of his lips lifting into a menacing sneer. He shifts his feet, swinging his sword down. John closes his eyes, looking almost peaceful as he braces himself for the impact that never comes. Instead, there is a familiar voice that booms through the room, a scream of "no!". The metallic clunk of one sword blocking another, a man's heavy grunt.

John's eyes fly open and he steps back, shocked by the sight that meets them. Alex is there, his back arched from the stress of pushing against the broad shouldered man that towers over him. A memory floods John's thoughts, playing out in his mind's eye in a matter of seconds.

Alex grasps John's arms, pulling him closer into their embrace. "I love you," Alex whispers. John's fingers lace into Alex's hair as he stares at the fire in front of them. A rare calm moment in these days of war, a chance for John and Alex to be alone together.

"I love you too, Lexy," John sighs, and Alex groans contentedly and lays his head on top of John's, his nearly black hair falling over John's face. John doesn't bother to push it away.

"You're beautiful, my love," Alex murmurs. There's a silence for a moment before Alex speaks again, "Do you know why I call you 'my love'?" He asks, glancing down. John smiles slightly and shakes his head against Alex's shoulder. "Because you are mine, your love and your heart are mine. And I am yours."

John chuckles and curls up closer to Alex's chest, "I do indeed belong to you, I relinquish myself to you willingly. You have easily stolen your way into my heart, you will forever hold a special place there." Alex chuckles into John's curly hair.

"I thought I was supposed to be the eloquent one?" He mumbles amusedly. John shrugs as best he can in Alex's strong hold.

"What, I can whip out a powerful vocabulary every now and then. For you, anyway."

Alex hums, "There's something else you can whip out for me too," John looks up at Alex, who winks at him with a sly grin. John rolls his eyes, but laughs joyfully.

"I can't believe you and your puns," he says between chuckles.

"Oh, you love me, puns and all."

"That I do," John replies. He lifts his hand to hold Alex's cheek, the right side of his face accented by the red-orange firelight. Alex leans forward and they melt into a soft kiss, which quickly turns into something more passionate. John throws his legs over Alex's waist and hauls himself into Alex's lap, deepening the kiss. They break away for air and Alex takes the moment to study John's breathtaking features, running his rough fingertips along the most prominent areas.