*Credits to RobertEdwardStarkJr , thank you, friend. It had been a pleasure writing with you.
*For the Johnlock Fandom! Cheers! -raises wine glass- Enjoy!
****
Sherlock paced around the flat, stopped, smoothed down his shirt, and breathed out. The little box in his breastpocket bulged on his chest, and Sherlock took it out. The 14K white gold ring was nestled snugly on the red velvet, its small treated black diamonds shining brilliantly. Sherlock breathed in and out continually, excitement and hope filling up his lungs as he placed down the box near his laptop. It had been three years since he had owned up to John, and he had made his decision clear when the lady in Blue Nile handed him the box. He took up his phone, and briskly texted John. "John? SH"
Yes, Sherlock? JW
Come home please. We're going out. SH
Can't I just meet you somewhere? I mean, if we're going out anyway and I'm at the clinic, what's the point of going back home? JW
You need to dress nicely. SH
Where are we going? I hope not the opera again. JW
Ghastly. No. Just come home already. SH
On my way. JW
Sherlock just texted his brother about borrowing a car, then turned to John's text. His heart skipped little beats. He had also picked out some clothes for John, a white Calvin Klein suit and even wondered if he needed flowers to pin on his chest. Sherlock was wearing a new black suit, and a new shirt, this time rich purple satin, shinier than the old one. He sat back on his chair, and laced his fingers under his chin, the little black box safe in his pocket, away from John's sight.
John had arrived at Baker Street. A date was always such a huge thing for Sherlock, and that was nice when John thought about it. It made him feel so very special, to have the affections of a certain Sherlock Holmes. As he ascended the stairs into their flat, he actually wanted nothing more than to sit in his chair and talk with Sherlock, or cuddle with him after a long and tiring day. However, Sherlock had set a date, and John didn't really mind. He opened the door and walked into the flat. "Sherlock? You look nice," he said, smiling as he saw the detective.
He opened his eyes, and smiled at John. It took all his willpower to stay where he was. "The clothes are in your room." Sherlock told him and slipped his phone out, briskly texting his brother about the rental car. "I hope they fit you..."
"Clothes? Oh, that's very nice of you," John said, grinning again. "I'll go try them on. This date must really be something, I see," he added, doing an about face to ascend another flight of stairs to his room. Sherlock looked so dashingly handsome that John had to take one last, longing look at Sherlock before going up. As he saw the white suit on the bed, he stifled a gasp. It was beautiful, and as he tried it on, he could see that it seemed tailor-made for him. Grinning even wider now, he went down the stairs in the suit. "Sherlock, this is so amazing. You shouldn't have!" he said as he walked into the room, looking down at his suit.
