"I don't care."
Sherlock regretted it the moment the words fell out of his mouth.
John's hand was still hovering over the colour schemes book, his eyes didn't move away from the page as he slowly shut it. "Alright, I'll just pick a colour we both like then."
No tension in the voice.
Hands relaxed.
Tone calm.
It was clearly bad… had he upset John so much that the other man had learnt how to mask it?
"John…" he twisted around, trying to look the other man in the eye, "… It's not… I care, I just- "
"- Don't care."
He's so tired.
When Lestrade and the rest of the morons at Scotland Yard weren't calling him to every case that stumped them (which was almost all of them), John was pestering him about meaningless wedding details. And when neither of them were blowing up his phone, then Mycroft was being his usual, smug self.
Can you take back a best-man invitation?
To be fair to John, planning a wedding seems to be a substantial amount of work; there are logistics Sherlock didn't know the answer to and more details that need approval then he knew existed.
His shoulders slumped at John's remark.
"No…" he confessed, "… I really don't. I really don't care what colour the chairs are."
John just smiled, pushing himself to his feet and making his way over to his fiancée, patting him gently on the shoulder as he passed by. "It's alright Sherlock… honestly."
Amazing how four words could make him feel even worse.
Sherlock pulled himself together and pushed himself to his own feet, striding across the room until he was pressed up against John's back. He wrapped his arms cautiously around the shorter man, resting his chin on John's head. "I care about you…" he mumbled, "I care about…. Getting married to you."
Running his thumb across the back of Sherlock's hand, John relaxed ever so slightly, using his other hand to try and organise the wedding plans as best as possible.
Sherlock didn't move, even as his entire system flooded with relief.
"I care about the look on Mummy and Father's face when I have to bring you to the next family party and get to introduce you as my husband."
John huffed in amusement, "Charming." He stated dryly, a small but sad smile on his face.
Neither of them had very good relationships with their parents…. John simply grew distant with them due to his Dad's alcoholism, and Sherlock, because of… something else entirely.
"I still don't care about the colour of the chairs…" Sherlock sighed, "… Blue, green, pink… or we could make everyone sit on the floor. I just… want to be married."
Gently, John pried Sherlock hands off of him (which Sherlock let him… reluctantly), turning around and allowing Sherlock to continue with the loose hug. "You should have started with that…" he chuckled, pulling the taller man into a kiss.
Reassured by the statement, Sherlock continued, fingers playing with the blonde hair on John's nape. "I want to be married to you. Everything else is just…" he waved his hand in the air, the action saying what words couldn't, "… stuff."
"Stuff..." John echoed, chuckling warmly as a warm smile appeared on his face, "… really expensive stuff."
John's tone was weary, and his eyes constantly darted over to the paperwork on the table… specifically on the magazines and the bold lettering that indicated how much everything was.
He was just as tired as Sherlock was…. Because he'd been shouldering the brunt of the wedding planning so that Sherlock didn't have to… and worrying about the price of everything on top of that.
"I… apologise…." Sherlock sighed, "… Maybe I can help?"
"Oh god, please no."
…..
"Mummy really wanted us to have the wedding in her family home."
"I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but even I can see that you don't want to go there…" John sent a quick smirk at his fiancée, "… And judging by Mycroft's pinched expression when he gave me her message, he'd rather not go there either."
Sherlock looked a little stunned, the few seconds giving John the chance to continue.
"I might not be a Holmes… but I can read people, and you don't want to go back home." John smiled, "Now, I've already called the registry office and we can either have a spring wedding or a winter wedding."
"Winter." Sherlock snapped out of his shock, turning away and acting like nothing had happened, "Spring is so pedestrian. Dull…. Ordinary."
John nodded, "You're right… and they'll be more spaces in November or December. If we're not having the wedding at your old home, then we'll just have to invite them and- "
"- They won't come."
"Oh."
Sherlock shook his head, "They never approved of Mycroft and his… desires. They are unlikely to accept that I feel the same towards another man."
"Right… okay. Mine probably won't either…." John scowled at the thought, "… Harry might, but we'll have to get rid of the open bar idea."
"Hmmmm."
"Do you have a suit Sherlock?"
Sherlock waved his hand in dismissal, "Probably in the wardrobe."
"… Are you planning to tidy the wardrobe at any point? You know, to find it before the wedding?"
No comment.
"I think I might need a new one, or- "
"- your army formal uniform." Sherlock interrupted, glancing over before twisting his face around so that it couldn't be seen (although not before John could see the slight blush on his face), "The formal army uniform should be just fine."
John smirked, but decided not to tease the other man about it…. That could be saved for another time.
"I might have to have it altered a bit, but I think I can do that." Another thought then occurred to John, "What about- "
"- if you're going to ask about the personal vows, then I already have that well in hand."
Strange… no rants about how unnecessary they were?
No groaning and dramatic sighs?
"You… you sure?"
Sherlock waved his hand in dismissal, "Already finished them… so yes, I'm sure."
"Right… that's fine. Brilliant actually."
"…. Good?"
"Very good."
…
"Broken into three times, and the assistant manager is taking a cut from the deposits."
"How did you- forget it…." John softly hissed, sending a fake smile towards the poor woman showing them around, "… you promised you'd behave."
"No, I didn't."
"Actually, I had you sign something, now will you please behave?" John sounded a little desperate, "We've only got three places left to check, and I would like to go through one without you pointing out every flaw."
Sherlock frowned, leaving his weight on one foot as he leaned over to hiss in John's ear, "She'll take some of the deposit if you choose this place."
"Sherlock- "
"- We should go somewhere else."
"Why, so you can criticise the rest of them as well?" Johns snapped, before taking a deep breath, "We'll finish this, and then we'll go to the next one."
Hearing the sound of the venue coordinator's heels coming back across the hardwood floor, John pulled his hands up in front of his chest in a sign of prayer, "Could you please… just behave?"
Pouting, Sherlock nodded, easily shifting into his default 'bored' expression.
Once the footsteps were closer, John spun around, a pleasant grin on his face…. the refusal already on his lips.
Oh well… maybe the next one.
…
Jane handed them a glossy folder with detailed information about room dimensions, catering prices and other details.
This was the last venue.
Sherlock had shot down the other two with his usual flair and dramatics (the owner of the last one had banished them from the premises… not the first time it had happened to them, but still), however, he hadn't said one thing about this one.
One and a half hours… it was probably a world record.
"So, is there anything you'd like to have a look at again?" Jane asked, "Any questions?"
John shook his head, eyes already skimming over some of the information. "No, thank you."
"Are you available in winter?" Sherlock suddenly piped up.
Turning to him in shock, John raised an eyebrow in silent query.
No jabs about the woman's married life?
No comments on the crime in the area?
A murder that happened in the main ballroom?
Nothing?
Sherlock didn't look him in the eye, a seemingly genuine smile on his face as he waited for Jane to finish checking on her tablet.
"This winter?" Jane tapped at the screen, "We do have some room, but off the top of my head, I'm not sure about the dates. Obviously Christmas and New Years aren't available, but just let me check…" She trailed off, eyes furrowed in concentration.
"How about mid-January?"
Jane nodded eagerly at that, already launching into the spiel about whether or not they wanted the traditional Friday or Saturday evening reception, whether or not they needed vegetarian options, guest accommodation, renting the entire building for the weekend.
And Sherlock nodded along eagerly.
At this point, John was tempted to check his forehead for a fever, especially when Sherlock started talking about booking it for a Friday, his tone friendly and calm… completely non-Holmes like.
When Jane dismissed herself in order to make some final checks on the dates, John turned to Sherlock and frowned, "Are you alright? What are you doing?"
"Asking questions John, honestly do try to keep up." Sherlock rolled his eyes… he always did hate stating the obvious, "Isn't that why you're dragging me all around London?"
"Well yes but- "John stopped, not wanting to point out how Sherlock had been acting at the other ones.
Sherlock straightened up, folding his arms across his chest and cocking his head to one side, "You like this place." He stated matter of factly.
"How did you- "
"Your eyes dilated when we first entered, the pamphlet for this place was more used than the other ones, indicating that you'd read over the information over and over again. Whilst with the other owners, you'd tried to keep things short and sweet, a clearly forced smile on your face, you were more genuine here… you wanted to make a good impression. Do I really need to go on?"
"… No…. Do you like it?"
Sherlock thought to himself for a few moments, before shrugging. "It's the right size… not too big. It is… very appealing to look at. You've already insisted on a wedding photographer, and there are plenty nice places for… sentimental photos."
He said this in such a way, that indicated just how ridiculous he found the entire idea.
"So…" John smirked, "… you think this place is perfect as well?" He took a step away from Sherlock and slowly spun around, already picturing when the head table would go, where the cake would be and where the dance floor could be set up.
He then settled his gaze back on Sherlock, who was watching him, arms folded again with an inquiring, but patient look.
"So… we're going to be signing the contract?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in expectation, "Don't worry…" he interrupted before John could even think about opening his mouth, "… Mycroft will probably help with the cost."
He then stepped over to wrap his arms around John from behind, bending down to rest his chin on the top of John's head. "Stop worrying." He ordered gently, "We can afford this place."
Hearing the sound of heels striking wood, announcing the return of Jane, prompting Sherlock to take another step back.
"We'll take it." Sherlock spoke up, before Jane could even say a word.
She was clearly caught by surprise, eyes widening slightly, before a small smile spread across her face. "Excellent. I do have a few dates in mind for you already…" she opened up the calendar, "… Now, January, let's see…. I have the 15th and the 22nd available? Both of them Fridays."
They both moved closer as Jane turned the tablet around to show them, as Sherlock nodded. "The 15th would work…" he muttered, "… not too close to the New Year celebrations, but close enough to mean the place won't be busy."
"So… the 15th then?" Jane glanced between the pair of them, smiling when John nodded in agreement.
"We have a plan." John muttered to Sherlock, a beaming smile on his face, "No backing out now, you understand that, right?"
"Wouldn't dream of it."