"Sherlock!" John yelled, climbing the stairs to their apartament. "You will not believe what the postie got for us today."
"Busy, John, I'm fairly sure the electricity bill can wait."
Sherlock adjusted his safety goggles which were sliding slightly off his nose and took a closer look at the hand lying on the table. John didn't know whether he was suprised by the presence of said hand, or by the fact that its presence wasn't really surprising. He shook his head.
"We got an invitation. For a wedding." That drew Sherlock's attention, but he didn't stop the further examination of the hole in the middle of the hand.
"Whose?"
"Mycroft and Greg's."
John smiled widely.
Sherlock furrowed his brows.
There was a long silence.
Sherlock opened his mouth, but did not let out any sound, so he closed it back. He looked at the hand, as if it knew the answer, then back at John, at the hand, at John, and finally he found the courage to ask his question:
"My brother and Gavin are no longer together?"
John closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
"As a wedding gift, you should learn his name," John said, leaving Sherlock alone with a raised eyebrow and a decaying hand.
"John?" Sherlock called after him. "How Graham took the news about the wedding? Maybe you shall pay him a visit. John?!"