November: I do
It was here. The day of the wedding. And both men were fizzing like shaken up bottles of lemonade.
"JOHN! JOHN! JOHN!"
"SHERLOCK!"
They had chosen to stay at 221b for the day before their wedding, seeing no need for the separation since neither of them were one for superstition.
They had had a small 'stag doo' three nights before... if you could even call it that. The night had basically consisted of them, Lestrade, Mike Stamford and Harvey sitting around a circular table with a few drinks. After Sherlock had accessed everyone of their current situations (with a little help from Harvey), Lestrade could not stop asking John how he could live with the man, let alone marry him. To answer, John merely smiled silently and wrapped his fingers around Sherlock's more tightly under the table.
But they weren't thinking about that now
Sherlock and John were positively leaping up and down on the bed, waking only seconds earlier, it proved exactly how excited John was! Sherlock checked his watch. 06:30. he showed John and John crossed his arms like a sulking child, his eyes looking to the ceiling in dismay.
"Why can't time just HURRY UP?"
"As illogical as that point it, I can't help but back it."
John turned to him and smiled, eyes twinkling. Sherlock returned the smile with his own, wide as the Earth and twice as spectacular. John could have sworn that he saw everything about Sherlock in that one smile.
"When is the car arriving?"
"11.00"
They took each other's hands, and left the bed behind them, walking into the living room. John turned to look upon the bed as they went out the door. He shivered to think of the next time that they would be in it together. As a married couple...
Never the less, they shut the door behind them and walked towards the living room. Neither of them were surprised at the sight they discovered there. Mrs Hudson sat on the sofa, carefully organizing small pieces of thick, cream paper into alphabetical piles. John could see that they were name places. There were very few compared with normal weddings but that was to be expected.
"Mrs Hudson! You shouldn't be up at this time!" John said, feinting surprise.
She looked up at him with a slightly insane but happy smile.
"Oh don't worry dear. I find all this quite enjoyable!"
John laughed and he went to the kitchen, offering tea to the two people in front of him, probably his favourite people in the world.
John turned his back and started preparing the three cups of tea, each one with it's own saucer and a large plate of biscuits to share. When all was prepared he put the biscuits and cups on a tray, bringing it into the living room.
What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Mrs Hudson had her head leaning on Sherlock's shoulder. Slow and simple tears of joy and loss were finding their way down her cheeks, caught in the material of Sherlock's bed shirt. Sherlock was sat next to her, his eyes were hardened and grounding but also on the edge of tears. He caught John's eyes and he saw the amount that Mrs Hudson truly meant to him. She was more like a mother than anyone he had ever had before and Sherlock could not be more of a son to Mrs Hudson if it was biological.
John carefully placed the tray on the table before them, the saucers tinkling into the eerie silence, then moved over to Mrs Hudson's other side. He sat and leaned over to her. He placed a small kiss on her cheek to which she smiled, but did not look at him. John left the room and entered the bedroom, letting them have their needed time together, alone.
He thought of the kiss he had planted to Mrs Hudson's cheek and smiled. They both knew what that kiss had meant, an eternal contract binding them which he knew he could and would never break.
I swear to you. I'll take care of him.
Time struggled on. They had many phone calls that morning. Last minute checks, good wishes, and a few interested paparazzi; but only a few.
It was 9.30 when they started to get ready in their own rooms.
Mrs Hudson had insisted on at least this level of separation, ensuring that both of their outfits were unknown to the other by keeping them downstairs in her own flat.
"Goodbye for now, my love."
John smiled and flushed red.
"Goodbye, my love"
They shared a simple but passionate kiss before Mrs Hudson shuffled them off into separate rooms. - John in the upstairs bedroom and Sherlock in their current one.
Their chosen outfits were definitely not the most conventional of wedding-wear, but that spoke volumes of their relationship.
John had chosen something he already possessed. His army parade suit.
The suit was grand and incredibly vibrant but John loved it all the same. Well, perhaps not loved it, it was different to that. He respected it. Each time he had worn it in a parade back home he had lost at least one more friend to the war and so he was saddened but also inspired by the men and women who had lost their lives to the wars all across the world. He respected that part of his life, the habits of a soldier he would never lose and the knowledge of a doctor that he would never forget. And perhaps that was why he had chosen to wear it. As a final salute.
The suit was hung high on the wardrobe and John had to jump to get it down. He first put on a simple black shirt under the rich red jacket. The jacket had golden military buttons skirting down the right side of it in a long line, where the thick fabric overlapped and joined. The deep red was contrasted with the golden ribbing that traveled along all the edges of the jacket. The sleeves had gold ribbon just above the ribbing, giving a very defined edge. On his left breast, he had a row of the medals he had gained as a soldier and as a doctor.
His trousers were made of the same heavy, red fabric. They had golden piping all the way down the sides and (similarly to the sleeves) golden ribbon framing the bottom of the length. His shoes were plain black, but polished so they shined even in the dull bulb-lit bedroom.
As for Sherlock, he had opted for a new suit. Well... not entirely new seeing as it was mainly vintage but new for him. He had taken a visit to Harvey's vintage shop with Mrs Hudson as his companion and had come out with perhaps the most beautiful and personal outfit he had ever laid eyes upon. Harvey had tailored the whole thing to fit perfectly. Mrs Hudson had also assured that Harvey had seen John's suit beforehand so that he could match them.
His first item was a cream shirt a small amount of looping embroidery on the collar. The buttons were made of purified abalone and had very detailed and skilled patterns traced over them just like the collar did, and they sparkled just as John's shoes did. He next put on his trousers, they were made of thick brown suede and perfectly hugged his legs. The trousers also had abalone buttons as they were designed specifically to match the shirt which he let hang over them. He had also chosen a pair of brown leather braces with brass ends that clipped to the trousers with a sharp ting. He then put on his shoes; made too of brown suede with small stars embroidered on the sides in a simple cream thread.
He then took a large red bandanna style scarf and hung it loosely around his neck. It has a softly faded traditional paisley pattern but the red was exactly the shade of John's army suit. Finally, he put on a brown waistcoat which fit tightly but then flared out at his waist to form tails which fell a fair way behind him. The whole piece was lined with red velvet matched to John's suit which could be seen as the tails flared when he walked. The piece was actually the one item that was not vintage seeing as it was of Harvey's own creation. Harvey had many talents indeed, thought Sherlock as he twirled in front of the long mirror. Not that he even knew of how well his suit was tied with John's.
Mrs Hudson was constantly rushing between the rooms and before she knew what she should compliment next 10:40 had arrived and it was time for John to go off to the registry office. He and Sherlock had agreed on getting taxis there (seeing as they were not going to be together so there was little point putting in lots of effort, besides, both of them were rather fond of the classic black London cab) and then John's favorite car (an Alfa Romeo, Series 2, 105, Spider in red) back.
And so, with a look to their bedroom door and with Mrs Hudson positively pushing him out of the door - he took the journey to the registry office they had chosen. Since John classed him as Agnostic and Sherlock was a plain old Atheist - it seemed illogical to get married in a church when religion meant so little to either of them.
The cab journey seemed to take years but in reality it was only a 15 minute journey from 221b. They had chosen the place because it was simple and easy to adapt. The ceremony room just off the hall which also led to the room where they were to have the reception. However, they really had been lazy. Leaving the paperwork to Mrs Hudson, they had naturally left anything remotely creative to Harvey who had designed the decoration for the whole space.
Eventually, he reached it and walked towards the neutral building in the outskirts of London. Lestrade was slumped against the wall outside in a fitted grey suit and John could tell he'd made a lot of effort. As he got out the taxi he smiled and stretched his hand out towards him. Lestrade beamed and pulled John into a firm hug.
"Lestrade!"
"John!"
Once the warm greetings had been exchanged they started to walk into the building.
"Ready for this John? A life with Sherlock Holmes?"
John laughed warmly.
"Ah, but you haven't shagged him Lestrade."
Lestrade laughed loudly and fully, laughter bubbling through the building. They paused just before entering the ceremony room.
"But seriously. Nervous?"
"A little. But not too bad."
"That's what I like to hear. Now come on in. Many wanting to see you in that room."
John took a deep breath before pushing the door open and he was immediately greeted with Harvey's creation. He didn't know what he had expected but he certainly hadn't expected this. The chairs facing the arch were a fantastic jumble of vintage chairs; handmade cushions ,each made with a different material, complimenting every single one. He looked up and the ceiling was a burst of colour. Metres and metres of material had been gathered on the ceiling to create a swirling sea of clashing but somehow harmonious colours and textures. The varying materials also hung down along two opposite facing sides of the room like patterned paint dripping down the room. The table at the front had a beautiful crisp red silk draped over it as did the speech podium to the side. There was a grand wooden piano to the side of the altar and it was left in it's lonely beauty.
John gaped around at the room and Lestrade had to nudge him to bring him back to Earth.
"Not bad, hey? That Harvey must be a proper genius too."
John smiled and looked around for Harvey. When Harvey saw him from his seat in the front row, he caught John's eye, and nodded proudly.
Soon, though, the buzz of conversation started to surround him and as he walked towards the front he started shaking hands, receiving kisses and responding to the many many good wishes and compliments that came his way.
Lestrade soon slipped out for when Sherlock arrived but John barely noticed as he stood in wonder of the people and the setting. He had the longest conversation by far with Harvey about his creation and Harvey told him of how he used to be an interior designer. It seemed the phrase Jack of all Trades was invented solely for this man.
It was only a matter of time before Lestrade and Mrs Hudson poked their heads round the door and entered, beaming like ecstatic children. Lestrade proudly offered Mrs Hudson his arm and she shuffled down joyfully with the man on his right. They nodded to the wedding practicer and she smiled. She was dressed in a simple white robe and had long brown hair that tumbled down her back, secured by two pearly hair pins.
At the piano sat Harvey (also a semi-professional pianist) and he began to play improvised jazz. He let his fingers dance calmly over the keys, soft striding bass in his left and a melody spinning delicately in his right.
A few bars passed by before the doors opened and first approached Molly in a simple silken white dress that Harvey had made for her. Sherlock and John had agreed that Molly would be the one bridesmaid because she meant a lot to both of them but they both knew that they didn't show it. She looked truly beautiful with very little makeup and the white fabric complimenting her skin. She walked up the full length of the room with every person smiling at her, a delicate blush forming over her cheeks. Once she reached the front, she walked to the right and John took her hand and kissed it, smiling before letting her pass.
However, Molly was not the apple of John's eye.
The doors swung open again and in he came. His pace was steady and measured and perfect. John smiled. His eyes dragged up Sherlock's form taking in every inch of his outfit and it had Sherlock written all over it. Tradition and efficiency mingling with a hint of flair. He looked beautiful.
Once Sherlock had gaped at the uncovered setting, he had eyes for no one but the man turning to look at him. His eyes raked over him, his Army Parade Suit. John had mentioned it but never shown him and he was glad because the beauty of him in it was overwhelming that he was glad to keep it for their wedding day. He looked beautiful.
Sherlock blushed and looked down under John's fixed gaze, he finally reached the front and turned so that they were facing each other.
John lifted his fingers to bring Sherlock's face up and look at him properly. The look they shared was something that both of them had dreamed of for all of their lives - whether they cared to admit it or not.
John offered his hand and Sherlock accepted, gripping it tightly before they both turned to face the woman in front of them.
"Please be seated."
The woman's name was Meridah Brown and her melodic voice spun through the service. It progressed as any normal service would, taking it's time to sway through the legal requirements and the creative interludes. The rings had been exchanged (simple gold bands) and it was now time for the final chapter. They turned towards each other and held hands. Impossible galaxian eyes piercing grounding blue ones.
"Do you, Sherlock William Holmes take this man, John Hamish Watson to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
"And do you, John Hamish Watson take this man, Sherlock William Holmes to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
"I now pronounce you husband and husband." she turned to both of them, smiling "You may both kiss the groom."
There was a long smile before anything happened, the silence almost deafening, but then words escaped John's lips. Words that surprised them both but words that were so human, so purely and perfectly John...
"Oh God yes."
Sherlock leaned in but didn't quite meet the man's lips before John grabbed the man around the waist and grabbed the other hand in his spare, dipped Sherlock so one of his legs bent beneath him and the other flew out so it was sitting in the air. Sherlock's other arm flew to hook itself around John's neck. John smiled before kissing the surprised look right off of Sherlock's face, claiming his lips in a powerful kiss. Cheers exploded all around them but the only thing they could feel or hear or see was the other. Their husband.
As the meal went on, their arms never left the other's waist. A few people who could not make the service had arrived for the meal which passed as quickly as it had arrived. After a long while, the talking and the speeches had worn away into early evening at which point it was time for the dance.
Everyone started to make their way into the dancing room - another masterpiece by Harvey. Less cheesy disco and more Edwardian ball dance. Sherlock and John smiled and made their way into the centre of the floor for their first dance.
Sherlock had chosen the music - a smooth jazz waltz which crackled with age. With the help of Mrs Hudson, they had learnt a very simple waltz routine and as the music started up with a rhythmic piano solo they took their position and started on cue.
Sherlock took the lead, John bowing his body out as he was swung around the floor in the calm and peaceful dance. Their footwork was a little clumsy - but if it had been perfect, it wouldn't have felt right. About half way through the song John brought his head back up and looked directly up to Sherlock. They didn't smile but it was as though their eyes sent signals to the other. In time, John moved his hands up to hook around Sherlock's neck and Sherlock moved his to put around John's waist. The dance was intimate but calm. It felt right.
Slowly, the song faded and everyone clapped as the couple turned out to face the beaming faces. Soon the next song came on and everyone started to pile onto the dance floor to the sound of an up beat rag time tune. The dancing turned fun, fancy and even more clumsy and everyone was having the time of their lives; the happy couple included.
As the piano bashed itself to infinity, the doctor and the detective swung up and down the floor, clinging close then spinning out with Charleston feet that just kept spinning and spinning as the night spun on.
After hours of dancing, drinking and talking it was time to go home. The guests were already starting to peel off and make their way home. It was 10 o'clock and John heard the roaring of his car outside, like a call. He smiled and kissed Sherlock fully on the lips before speaking out.
"Folks, it has been wonderful but for now, my husband and I must bid you adieu and retire to our marital home."
Cheers were heard and a crowd followed them outside into the bitterly cold winter weather. John could make out a small part of the car through the crowd but curiosity soon overcame him and he pushed through the crowd to discover the true beauty of it.
The red gleam of it was glorious to behold and even in the dim light he could see the curves glinting with a seductivity that only a spider could manage. The headlights flashed and John's heart leaped into his throat. Was it possible to be sexually attracted to a car? If Sherlock hadn't come into his life, he was sure he could have married this thing.
The driver smiled as he admired it, starting up the engine for them.
The beast roared to life, purring like a kitten and roaring like a Lion. John's eyes burst with fire as he ran his fingers along it's silken body.
Suddenly, he heard a whisper behind him.
"I hope you're going to treat me the same way you're treating that car tonight, John Watson."
He shivered and turned to face Sherlock, a sexy smirk was settling over the dark haired man's lips.
"Oh no. I'll treat you with far less delicacy than this car."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Sherlock smiled and kissed John as he was pushed back against the body of the car. John smiled but allowed them to separate.
"When we get home."
They made their final goodbyes and soon the couple were in the car waving to the friends and family still remaining.
In the squashed back seat of the car, John let his head rest on Sherlock's chest, he could hear the man's heart beating gleefully beneath him. Sherlock kissed the top of his head and he smiled, coming back up to look the man dead in the eyes again. Not just any man. His husband. Sherlock Holmes, John Watson's husband.
"What are you thinking about?"
John lifted his hand to caress Sherlock's cheek.
"You."
Sherlock smiled before claiming John's lips in a soft kiss yet again, there would be many more as the night went on, he was sure.
Author's Note: I honestly cannot put into words how sorry I am that it took me so long to upload this chapter. I started AS levels and work experience at the same time as starting the longest chapter yet. I couldn't have planned it worse, really, hopefully the length of this chapter at least partly makes up for it :/ I've drawn visual aids for their outfits and will probably scan them in and link to them in the next chapter. I also wrote this as though gay marriage was legal in England (like it should be!).^^ Also, I will be writing the smut version of last chapter and I'll let you guys know when it's up. :) Sorry again, but thanks for reading and reviewing! ^^