The only noise in the flat was a soft clicking as Sherlock's fingers swept across the keyboard. John was thinking about nothing in particular and staring at nothing specific as his tea grew cold when suddenly Sherlock mumbled, "No, you're right, John."

John blinked in confusion, "Sorry?"

However, Sherlock apparently did not deem repeating himself of any import and stayed silent. After a moment or two of staring at the side of Sherlock's head, John gave up on receiving an answer and took a swig of his now-chilly tea.

"I think black. Neither of us can wear white. It makes you look fat," Sherlock said, interrupting the silence once again.

John choked slightly on his tea. "It does not!" he exclaimed.

Sherlock tilted his head in his classic "no, you're a moron" manner and said, "No, it really does."

John scowled. "No, it really doesn't," he snapped, his words drenched in sass. "What are you on about anyway?"

Sherlock heaved a sigh, "Well, if you insist on wearing white you may, but you're changing for the pictures."

"What pictures? Sherlock, what are you talking about?"

Sherlock sighed again, this time even more exasperated than the first. "The wedding, John. Keep up for once."

This only served to confuse John more. "What wedding?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Our wedding, John," he said, enunciating each word as if John was in need of special help. "Is it so impossible to pay attention?"

John's eyes were something akin to saucers, "We're getting married?"

"Yes, John," he drawled. "I thought that was fairly obvious."

John leaned forward ever-so-slightly in his seat and stared at him in slightly stunned silence.

Sherlock paused for a moment, staring at John. "Do... you not want to?" he asked, voice uncharacteristically meek.

This startled John out of his shock, and he sputtered out, "No! Ah, no it's-it's fine. It's..." His voice was a tad breathy, "Yeah, I want to."

They sat looking at each other for a moment before Sherlock murmured a "good" and then cleared his throat to say, "So, black tuxedos?"

John swallowed and sat back in his seat, nodding. "Yeah, you look nice in black."

Sherlock turned back to the computer mumbling something along the lines of "yes, I know."

A pleasant quiet settled over the flat as Sherlock went back to typing and John grabbed his mug and looked down at his tea.

Sherlock tried to bite back a satisfied smile.

John didn't bother hiding his own.

This was based on a text conversation I had with my best friend. I was like "So I have this headcanon on how these two getting engaged would go down." And she was like "holy fuck that was cute." And um. So this exists. Yep.

I'm a slut for Johnlock fluff.

Also, in case you don't follow TJLC Explained, you should. Like. Do it. In case you don't already watch it. Just-Just do it. Watch the advent calendar countdown to series four. Just-just. Go believe.

Also, thanks to Nancy for reading this over for me yet again.

Until next time. :)