Disclaimer: Sherlock, along with its characters, location, etc. are the property of BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them, though I definitely wouldn't mind being on a first name basis with Benedict Cumberbatch ;)
Summary: Sherlock asked John to marry him *SQUEALS* Established Johnlock. Super cute and fluffy. And who they ask to be in their wedding party at their beautiful beach wedding…so cute! I suck at summaries but this is worth the read! Review if you like it!
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Beloved
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"JOHN!" Sherlock yelled from the couch. He hadn't moved in a few hours. He had been thinking.
Sherlock heard John sigh from the kitchen area, and heard the soft patter of his bare feet as he made his way over to his boyfriend.
"Would you be quiet? Rosie is asleep upstairs, and I don't want her to wake up. What do you want?" John muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. Today had been hard on the both of them, but John most of all. It had been five years today since Mary was shot and killed.
Sherlock looked up at John, ready to make a rude remark, when he saw how exhausted his love looked. "…John? Are you alright? That's a dumb question…" Sherlock struggled to find his words. He looked back up at his beloved blogger and saw that he was close to breaking down. "Come here." Sherlock commanded. He lifted his head so John could slide underneath before resting his head on John's lap and stretching back out.
Unconsciously, John let his right hand fall onto Sherlock's chest, and he let his left hand card through his boyfriend's dark curls. Sherlock reached up and grabbed the hand that was resting on his chest, idly stroking his thumb over John's knuckles. "I'm here for you, John." Sherlock whispered. John slowly moved his hand, with Sherlock's still attached, across his love's chest, letting it rest over his beating heart. He closed his eyes and let the steady pumping of Sherlock's heart calm him. Oh, how he loved Sherlock. He loved the man more than he ever loved Mary. But Mary had been his wife, and the mother of his daughter. He could not say that he had not loved her as well.
After a long time of just sitting there, both men eventually fell asleep in that position. And they didn't wake until Mrs. Hudson walked in the next morning.
….
"We're too old to be sleeping on the couch like that, Sherlock. My neck is stiff and my back hurts." John complained. They were working a new case, one that Sherlock seemed to understand immediately, but, as usual, would not say.
"John…" Sherlock completely ignored John complaints and continued the train of thought that he had been pondering. The same thing he had been thinking about the night before.
"What, Sherlock?" John sighed.
"I have an…um…errand to run. Stay here and finish up with Lestrade." Sherlock muttered, already turning to the road to call out to a cab.
"Sherlock, if you know the answer…" John started.
"It was the girlfriend. See you back at the flat, love." Sherlock crawled into the back of the cab that pulled up, muttered an address to the driver, and sped off.
John sighed and turned toward Lestrade to finish up the case. Apparently, it was simple to The Great Sherlock Holmes.
…
"John, do you want to go out to eat?" Sherlock yelled from the couch, in the exact same position he had been in the night before.
"How long have you been here? I've been wrapping things up at Scotland Yard without your help for three hours, and you're just laying on the couch!" John yelled.
"Shhh, John. I just got Rosie to sleep. We can leave Mrs. Hudson in charge and go out to eat at Angelo's." Sherlock muttered. He stood and swung his big coat around his shoulders, tying his blue scarf around his neck.
"Why there, of all places?" John questioned.
Sherlock shrugged. "Just feel like some Italian, I guess." He strode out the door and down the stairs, pausing briefly to ask Mrs. Hudson to keep an eye on Rosie. Of course, she consented, and soon Sherlock and John were speeding away toward the restaurant they ate at during their first case.
When they got there, they were ushered into the table by the window by Angelo. The same one they had eaten in on the first night they spent together as flatmates. And the day that Sherlock had changed John's life. And John was getting suspicious.
"Sherlock, what's going on?" John questioned.
"Honestly, John, can't a man just enjoy a nice dinner with the love of his life without being asked every question under the sun?" though Sherlock tried to sound cross, his remark lacked the usual bite that would be behind the words.
Just then, Angelo walked over to them with two menus and a candle. "A candle for your date, Sherlock." He winked at the taller man.
John smiled a bit at this. "This time, I really am his date." He replied.
After the men had ordered their food and received it, Sherlock stared talking while John started shoving food in his mouth.
"John…I love you. You have changed my life in more ways than one. You have made me a better man than I could have ever hoped to become." Sherlock started.
John had a concerned look on his face. "I feel the same way about you, love." He replied, setting his fork down.
Sherlock smiled briefly, but continued as if John had not interrupted. "When I left the crime scene this morning, I was doing something very important. I wasn't trying to piss you off, no matter how much you think I enjoy it. Though, I usually do enjoy it. Regardless, I would not have left today if I didn't absolutely need to. As it is, I had to pick something up." Sherlock paused. "They won't be open for the next week, so I had to pick up the thing that I was having customized."
At this, Sherlock smoothly got out of his seat and down on one knee in front of John, pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket. "Doctor John Hamish Watson, love of my life, will you marry me?" Sherlock opened the box to show a thin gold wedding band with a few diamonds encrusted into it.
"Oh, Sherlock! Yes, of course I will!" John had tears in his eyes. Before Sherlock slipped the band on John's finger, he showed the doctor the inside of it. Engraved in what appeared to be Sherlock's handwriting were the words "I love you, my beloved blogger."
….
"I don't want a big wedding party, Sherlock. One person a piece."
"Two." Sherlock argued. They had chosen a date and time for the wedding and planned almost everything else, but they could not decide on a wedding party.
"Why two?" John glanced admiringly at the gold band around his finger. Recently, he had gotten a simple titanium wedding band for Sherlock, knowing that he wouldn't want anything too fancy. He did, however, get the inside engraved. It said, in John's handwriting, "I love you, my beautiful detective." It was currently wrapped around Sherlock's ring finger, and John liked that a lot.
"I have two people I want on my side." Sherlock looked at John as if it was obvious.
"Who?" John questioned.
"Well, though I often despise the thought of him, I want Mycroft to stand behind me at my wedding. I think it would only be right. Plus, he's my brother." Sherlock explained.
"I guess that makes sense, but who's the other one?" John asked.
"Well, I can't have Mycroft trying to be the best man. It was hard enough for me, it will be impossible for him. But, I plan to have a best woman. MRS. HUDSON!" he yelled the last part in the direction of the stairs.
"Oh, Sherlock, that's so sweet." John smiled at his fiancé affectionately before wrapping his arms around the detective's waist and planting a firm kiss on his lips.
"Yes, Sherlock? Oh, am I interrupting?" Mrs. Hudson bustled into the room.
"I have a question for you." Sherlock untangled himself from John's arms and made his way over to his landlady.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Well, I have a feeling that Mycroft will be absolute rubbish as a best man. Will you do me the privilege of being my Best Woman?" he asked.
"Oh, Sherlock…" Mrs. Hudson wiped a tear from her eye and hugged the tall man around the middle. "Of course I will, dear."
Sherlock smiled and kissed Mrs. Hudson on the cheek. "Thank you."
….
It was the day of the wedding, and John was nervous. He loved Sherlock, and Sherlock loved him, but was that enough to keep Sherlock at the altar? He didn't know if Sherlock would go through with it.
"Come on, mate, it's almost time." Lestrade poked his head around the dressing room door. John adjusted his tuxedo and walked toward his best man.
"Okay."
Lestrade rushed away from the door to make his way over to the rest of the wedding party. Sherlock was already at the altar, and the party was going to walk in before Mrs. Holmes led John up to marry her son.
John reached down to finger the engagement ring on his finger before he realized it had been taken a week ago to get a second engraving, as a sign of their marriage.
Before John had the chance to breathe, the doors opened. Rosie, tottering along in a little white dress, waddled up the sandy path spreading white rose petals before the procession. John saw Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock's best woman, and Lestrade, John's best man, link arms and make their way out of the house to the sandy path laid out for the procession. They were on a beach, and they had all been inside a beach house owned by the Holmeses getting ready. The men in the procession, including the grooms, were wearing white tuxedos with lilac colored shirts opened at the collar. The women were in simple lilac colored sundresses. And everyone was barefoot, since it was on a beach.
The only difference between the grooms and the wedding party were the flowers attached to their clothes. The men and women in the party each had a small lilac blossom pinned to their jacket/dress, but both John and Sherlock had large white roses pinned to their lapels. It was simply perfect.
While John was thinking about all of these things, Mycroft, with a genuine smile, latched his arm around Molly Hooper's and followed Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade.
Before he could think, Mrs. Holmes was looping her arm around John's and leading him up the aisle. His mother had died many years before, and Mrs. Holmes had become a second mother to him over the three years that he and Sherlock had been together, and the many years of their friendship before that.
When he finally laid eyes on his fiancé, his breath was knocked out of him. Sherlock looked utterly perfect in his white tuxedo and purple shirt, with the white rose fluttering in the light breeze and the sunlight glinting off his messy curls. He was beautiful.
Sherlock, for his part, was blown away by John as well. The tux and shirt were tailored perfectly, so they showed off John's muscles. But more than that, he looked so happy, so gorgeous, that Sherlock was happier than he had ever felt before. He knew right then, at the sight of John walking toward him to marry him, that he was the luckiest man alive. To have this man love him enough to marry him…it was everything he had ever wanted.
Mrs. Holmes kissed John's cheek before the man eagerly made his way up to the love of his life and grabbed his hands.
The priest, though they had tried to find someone who would leave out the majority of the religious mumbo-jumbo, for Sherlock's sake, gave a short speech about God and love and marriage. Sherlock and John just looked at each other, basking in their own happiness.
Finally, it was time to exchange vows. John went first.
"Sherlock Holmes, I love you so much. You have been there for me in more ways than I can ever describe. You changed me, and you saved me. Running around after you and your ridiculous adventures, watching you die, witnessing you come back to life, watching you kill a man to protect me and my family…it made me love you more than I ever thought it possible to love someone. You are everything to me. I don't know if I would have ever made it this far if it wasn't for you. You dove into the depths of hell to save me, more than once. And that, along with your personality and stunning good looks," the crowd chuckled a bit at this, "made me fall in love with you, Sherlock. And I will always love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, at 221B Baker Street, with out little Rosie and our cases. You are my life Sherlock, and I never want that to change. I love you so much." John had memorized his vows, so he didn't have to take the little paper out of his pocket. He smiled when he saw tears in Sherlock's eyes.
Next, it was Sherlock's turn to speak.
"John, you know I'm not very good at these things. Nevertheless, I had to find a way to tell you how much I love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I may have been more effective as a detective when I restrained all emotions, but I never felt truly alive. Not until I met you. You are absolutely everything to me, John Hamish Watson. From the moment I met you, I knew I would love you for the rest of my life. I jumped off a building for you, I dove into a fire for you, I got shot for you, and I killed a man for you. And I would do it all again in a heartbeat. No matter how much pain I endured, seeing you happy and alive was all the reward I needed. I will never stop loving you, not even on the day I die. Life for me is often like a boat stranded at sea, and you have been, and always will be, my anchor. I love you, my beloved blogger."
After this, John had tears in his eyes to match Sherlock's. Then, Rosie walked up to them with a small pillow and held it out to the two men. Sherlock picked up John's gold ring, and John picked up Sherlock's titanium. Neither knew what the new inscriptions were, since Mycroft had taken it upon himself to do the whole thing for them.
Apparently, though shockingly, Mycroft did a very good job with the rings, because both men choked back sobs before showing the rings to one another and slipping them on their love's finger.
"I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss each other."
John and Sherlock crashed together, wrapping their arms around each other and fiercely pressing their lips together, despite the salty tears running down their faces. Everyone stood and clapped, and even Mycroft seemed overjoyed by the marriage.
Sherlock's ring read "Dinner?"
And John's said "Starving."