He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

He'll Say Yes

    "Bed time buddy." John insisted, nudging Hamish with his arm.
"Oh come on, just one more show!" Hamish groaned.
"The rules are the rules, go get into your pajamas." John insisted. Hamish gave a loud, unearthly groan but in the end he rolled off of the couch, trudging up the stairs as if he had the worst life in the world. John was intending on changing the channel, however Sherlock seemed rather interested in what antics SpongeBob was going to get himself into, so he left it was it was, holding Sherlock even closer than before.
"You like this show?" John wondered with a little laugh. Sherlock shrugged, not seeming to have a response for that question, at least not an answer that wouldn't embarrass him.
"Sometimes a little bit of mindless entertainment is just what I need." Sherlock admitted, not sounding ashamed at all.
"Why, is your life so stressful?" John asked with a laugh. John could feel Sherlock take a deep breath, his lungs inflating and deflating right against John's chest.
"Not stressful, no. Just...confusing." Sherlock admitted. John looked down on him with worry, as if he hadn't done enough to make Sherlock's life as joyous as his had become.
"What's wrong?" John wondered. Sherlock just smiled up at him, letting his head sink into the crook of John's neck and pressing a quick kiss to his jawbone.
"It's not you, don't worry. It's more...me." he admitted with a sigh.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" John wondered.
"Probably not, it's the stress of the future I suppose. You're wrapped up in there somewhere but I can't figure out when, or how, or why." Sherlock admitted. John nodded, wondering if this was about marriage or just companionship. "I feel like I've built myself a life that revolves completely around you, as if every move I've made had led me in your direction, as if fate was pulling us together one mistake at a time."
"Well in that case you're the best mistake I've ever made." John assured.
"Yes but now that we've found each other, now that I've depended all of my happiness on your, now that you're the center of my universe, what more can I do? Is there another mistake I'm going to have to make to tear this all down? Maybe we're not soulmates, maybe this is only a step in the right direction?" Sherlock wondered.
"Soulmates or not, we're in love. If this is only a step towards my real soulmate then I want to stop walking. I want to be with you Sherlock, forever. And if this isn't what fate intends for us then we're going to have to be a little bit rebellious." John said with a little laugh. Sherlock sighed in agreement, staying still for quite some time as if trying to process all that John had said.
"I think we should go say goodnight to Hamish." John decided after assuming Sherlock had said all he had needed to say.
"That sounds like a good idea." Sherlock agreed, pulling himself to his feet and fixing his curls to the best of his abilities. There was still dirt smeared over his shirt but John didn't want to point it out, it was strangely adorable to be honest. He turned off the TV and lead Sherlock upstairs, Redbeard following them softly down the hallway. Hamish's bedroom light was off but John knew he wasn't asleep, not this soon at least. He opened the door quietly and saw two eyes staring at him through the darkness.
"Goodnight buddy." John said with a smile, kissing Hamish on the top of the head from where he lay on his pillows.
"Night daddy." Hamish muttered, sounding sleepy.
"Good night Hamish, don't let the uh...bedbugs bite." Sherlock muttered, not seeming to know what to say. He backed up into the dresser in an effort to give John more room, making a loud crash as one of Hamish's Nerf guns toppled over. Redbeard jumped up onto the bed, licking Hamish's face and making the boy shriek with laughter.
"Redbeard get down, he's trying to sleep!" Sherlock insisted, pulling the dog away.
"Alright then...goodnight." John said with a nervous little laugh, glaring at Sherlock even though it was dark.
"Goodnight daddies." Hamish muttered sleepily, probably not even noticing what he had said. But John noticed, and he couldn't help smiling to himself as he led Sherlock and Redbeard out into the hallway, shutting the door softly behind him.
"Well um...I should probably..." Sherlock muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly just for something to do with his arm.
"You can stay." John said very quickly, probably sounding super desperate. Sherlock's face fell, and for a moment it looked as if John had threatened his life. John looked at him nervously, not knowing what else to do until Sherlock explained himself.
"No I don't think...I'm not ready for that um...for that." Sherlock muttered very quickly, obviously not knowing what words he wanted coming out of his mouth. John just exhaled, shaking his head so quickly that it might just roll off of his shoulders.
"No, god no Sherlock that's not what I meant, I just meant stay." He insisted. "You're going to be here at five in the morning, and I don't have to give you a key if you're here anyway." Sherlock nodded, looking very thankful.
"So we can just...cuddle?" he suggested, looking as if John was going to laugh at him for suggesting that.
"Cuddling is fine with me." John assured, and Sherlock looked very relieved.
"Alright, yes...cuddling." He agreed, his face lighting up once more with a smile.
"You're adorable." John decided, gazing at Sherlock with the most love sick smile on his face.
"Oh stop it you." Sherlock teased, pretending to blush. Then again, he was probably blushing, it was just a bit dark in the hallway and John couldn't tell. So he pushed the door open to his room, letting Redbeard jump up onto the bed and curl up at the end. John made sure to change into his pajamas in the bathroom where Sherlock wouldn't get all awkward, and when he came out from brushing his teeth he saw Sherlock was all wrapped up in the blankets. He looked very cozy, if not a little bit awkward, and he was now trying to give himself more foot space at the end of the bed, shifting Redbeard farther and farther away. When Sherlock saw John he froze, looking a bit guilty as if John had expected him to sleep on the floor or something.
"Sorry." Sherlock said quickly, although he didn't seem quite sure what he was sorry about. John just laughed, shaking his head in amusement and burrowing under the covers next to him.
"It's fine Sherlock, whatever it is you're apologizing for." John assured. Sherlock nodded, looking relieved at that.
"Your bed is very comfortable." He decided. John just laughed, lying on his side so that he could watch Sherlock try to reposition himself on the pillow.
"That's not really something you hear every day." John decided.
"Sorry." Sherlock said again.
"No literally, I never heard that. Mary always complained that it was too hard; she wanted to get one of those expensive adjustable mattresses. That woman would've bled me dry." John admitted.
"What happened? If I'm allowed to ask." Sherlock wondered. John sighed, poking at a curl on the side of Sherlock's face just for fun as he recalled all of those miserable memories.
"I already told you what happened, it's not really that long of a story." John admitted.
"No but why? Why did you leave her instead of trying to work it out?" Sherlock wondered. John sighed heavily, letting his hand fall back down on the blankets and staring at Sherlock for a moment.
"Because I knew that as soon as I had a reason to leave her that I would take it. She may have been the one cheating, but I was never in love with her either. We were just young, unexperienced, we were rushing into things too fast and before we knew it..." John sighed, blinking for a moment and trying not to get too emotional right now.
"Are we doing the same thing?" Sherlock wondered, his voice sounding worried, as if now John was going to have a bad idea about him.
"No, god no Sherlock, never you. You're the only thing that I've ever done right in my life; trust me when I say that. You are everything that is good in this world and more, you are the anti-Mary. I fell in love with you because you're the only person that could pull me out of the hole I had dug for myself. You were the only one that I was willing to love." John admitted.
"Well when you say it like that..." Sherlock muttered, but he didn't seem to know where he was going with that. "Do you think this could actually work?" he wondered.
"I've known it could work from the start. And I think we can get to the finish." John insisted. Sherlock couldn't help but smile, a shy little smile that put the sun to shame.
"I love you, Sherlock Holmes." John muttered.
"And I you, John Watson." Sherlock agreed. John just smiled, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's chest and holding him there, holding him close. He breathed in his scent, he felt his heartbeat, he felt like he was truly one with Sherlock, that for this moment they were merged. And soon this was how they always were. John fell asleep with Sherlock in his arms almost every night, curled up in bed or snuggled on the couch they would hold each other close without any intention of letting go, night after night. And John would just listen to his heart, feel the rhythm and know that everything was alright, everything was going to be fine. Sherlock's very being reassured him that he was on the right path, that he had finally found where he needed to go. Soon Sherlock basically lived in the house; he was there so often it almost felt like they were already married. But John knew there was one more step, one more necessary step that would make it official. He knew that marriage was a big step; he knew that with Mary even. But he sat in his room for what felt like days, twirling his old wedding ring around in his fingers and thinking about the commitments he was going to have to make when he made Sherlock his husband. He knew that Sherlock was different than Mary; he knew that Sherlock was special. And if there was anyone that would make John put on another ring, it was Sherlock. So with that he threw the old wedding ring in his sock drawer, a place where nothing ever returns from. It was gone, and as soon as the only reminder of his old marriage was gone, he knew it was time to focus on his new one. It was a sunny day when John finally got out to go shopping. He took Molly with him, of course, and Sherlock seemed absolutely delighted when they said they were going out. As insulted as that kind of made John feel, Sherlock kept going on about he had this big gardening project he wanted to do and insisted that it was going to be beautiful. In the end Sherlock nearly pushed them out the door, and so John and Molly went shopping for a ring. It wasn't really that hard, a nice plain band would do fine for a man. Sherlock seemed like the type who would want diamonds, but considering John's budget was kind of tight he decided that a simple golden band would have to do. Besides it was very pretty, much more beautiful than the diamond he had bought Mary for their engagement.
"Alright, what's the plan again?" Molly wondered as they were driving home, a cute little package on John's lap.
"Tomorrow night I'm going to have you, Mrs. Hudson, and Greg over for dinner. I want it all to be public, you know, a neighborhood thing. I already told Sherlock that I wanted to have people over, he seemed fine with it." John shrugged.
"Brilliant, and then you'll propose there?" Molly wondered, practically squirming with excitement.
"Yes but how? Do I put it in his drink, in his food?" John asked, getting a little bit stressed out. This had to be perfect, the perfect proposal for the perfect man.
"Knowing Sherlock, he'd choke on it." Molly decided. John just laughed in agreement, it was true of course. Sherlock Holmes, ever the romantic.
"Ya well, maybe I'll just do it traditionally." John decided.
"Definitely a good idea." Molly agreed.
"He might pass out." John pointed out with a laugh. Molly chucked a little bit, imagining that awful scene.
"He might, he tends to be overdramatic." She agreed. John sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and smiling to himself.
"This is actually happening." He muttered. There was a bit of a silence, but Molly just nodded.
"It's happening. You're going to marry Sherlock Holmes." Molly agreed.
"I still have to ask." John pointed out, and Molly sighed.
"Ya, it'll be a close one. He might say no." she agreed.
"What if he actually said no, what would I do then?" John asked with a laugh.
"I have no idea, how awkward would that be though?" Molly wondered. John shivered in disgust, shaking his head rapidly.
"He'll say yes." He said confidently, but then again, Molly had managed to plant doubt in his mind.
"Of course he'll say yes John; I've never seen him so happy in my life." Molly assured. John nodded, looking down at the ring box once more. He took a deep breath, just to get his nerves out, and nodded once more.
"He'll say yes." He repeated, just for good measure. That day seemed to be the longest of his life. Molly left as soon as they got back and thankfully Sherlock was done in the garden, or whatever he was doing. They were both a little bit awkward around each other for some reason, both giggling and smiling to themselves. John caught Sherlock gazing at him across the room not once but twice, watching him as if entranced. It wasn't creepy as much encouraging, and every time John saw him he couldn't help but think about the ring upstairs, hidden away in his dresser where Sherlock could never find it. He tried to imagine Sherlock's face; he tried to imagine the joy....
"Why do you look so happy?" Sherlock wondered the next night, popping into the bedroom from helping Hamish tie his tie. John made sure everyone looked formal; he himself was wearing a nice suit and tie. Sherlock was wearing his usual clothes, which were still fancy enough for this casual dinner, and he looked positively stunning.
"Why are you interrogating me for being happy?" John wondered, buttoning his jacket and watching Sherlock in the mirror. The gardener walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest, leaning heavily on John's shoulder and looking at their reflections.
"You're beautiful John." he decided. John just laughed, shaking his head ever so slightly.
"That's you Sherlock, you got the reflections mixed up." he insisted.
"No, I'm being serious, you're seriously just...if anyone had ever told me I was going to be with such an attractive man I would've laughed at them." Sherlock defended.
"Well where is this man so I can knock his lights out?" John wondered.
"Stop being so critical John." Sherlock insisted with a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of John's head before walking down to the kitchen to get the food set up. John had tried his best to prepare a meal worth their time, but then again he suspected that this night wouldn't be a disappointment, no matter how horrible the food turned out to be. He made sure to slip the ring box in his jacket pocket, making sure there wasn't a noticeable lump before skipping downstairs after the love of his life. The guests should be coming soon, so he had to be ready to host. Hamish and Redbeard were already downstairs; probably making a mess out of the house John and Sherlock had worked so hard to clean. John even lit candles; he never did anything like that on special occasions. 

"Why is there a tarp in the middle of the yard?" John asked with a bit of a scowl, looking over at Sherlock, who shrugged innocently.
"I didn't want the flowers to get cold, new plants die so easily in their first three days." Sherlock insisted.
"That looks awful though." John whined, pulling the blinds over the window so that no one could see Sherlock's plant blanket.
"Sorry." Sherlock mumbled, looking guilty as he set out a basket of chips.
"It's alright Sherlock, it's fine. I appreciate your caring for my flowerbeds, as I do none of the sort." John assured. Sherlock just smiled at him with love in his eyes.
"If it weren't for me you wouldn't even cut your grass." He insisted, and John just rolled his eyes at him, setting out the last of the snacks before the doorbell rang.