The Full Story of Stag Night

Planning the night

A.N.:  I had already been planning on writing this for a while, but when I saw a cute headcanon about the stag night I wanted to include, I decided to write this now, rather than a couple fics later like I was planning to. (The headcanon I'm talking about won't come up until the third chapter.) This is going to be a six-chapter story, and I already have the plot and summaries planned out, so I should be able to post the chapters daily if I stay on schedule. This is one of the shorter chapters. This is only my second posted fic, so like before, please let me know if I can improve on anything! 

Three months ago today, John asked Sherlock to be his best man. Now Sherlock had been up all night, wondering about what he would do for the stag party he was obligated to prepare, which he was more than willing to do. 

Even though he and John had gotten nearly as close as they were before the fall, and even closer after he had asked him to be his best man, Sherlock still felt on the lookout for something he could do to prove that he truly did care for John after all he put him through. After John had called him his best friend and made him his best man, Sherlock knew what he was going to do.    He was going to throw John Watson the best party ever.

Sherlock was usually very keen to plan and organize things, perfecting every last detail, just like he was for the upcoming wedding and reception. Still, none of those things seemed to matter as much to him as this night. This seemed more personal since it felt more about the friendship of the two men rather than John's marriage to Mary.

 Even though Sherlock was glad John finally found someone who can be for him in the ways he couldn't and was willing to put up with the best friends' close relationship like John's past partners weren't, he was starting to feel sad about losing his friend. No matter how much they say it'll stay the same, it would inevitably be different. Sherlock just wanted one more memorable night with the man before the wedding, despite not really having any particularly fun nights with since the whole 'being dead' situation. That was just one more reason why this needed to be perfect.

Sherlock wanted the night to be as amazing as he could make it, so he decided to call in a few favors from people he's helped. After a long night of thinking hard about what he was going to do, he started to stress more about the pressure of it. He created a giant schedule, with a list of places and events they were going to go to, and sat himself down on the floor to go over it. 

After what seemed like a few hours of stressing out and growing more and more scared about this, he started to feel a more panic-y and frustrated when things weren't working out and fitting together the way he had envisioned. This must-have shown when he got so fed up with a situation that he slammed his laptop closed and loudly exclaimed "Damn it!", right as John walked through the front door of the Bakerstreet flat.

What time was it? How long had it been? Despite thinking he had only been working on it for a few hours, he had failed to notice the sunrise. Oops. That didn't matter, though, because even though he and John had been close recently, they weren't flatmates, which meant that it wasn't his job to care about things like Sherlock not sleeping anymore.

"Hey Sherlock, I came to go over.. the.. " John hesitated when he opened the door and saw the state of Sherlock and the flat. 

"What happened here? What's all this?"

Sherlock was so wrapped up in the planning and stress that he hadn't realized how much of a mess the living room had become.  There were papers, schedules, and notes scattered across the floor, and Sherlock had slowly and unconsciously brought all the pillows from the couch onto the floor to feel more comfortable. None of this compared to how Sherlock looked, though.  His usually full and fluffy curls laid nearly flat on his head, due to not remembering to shower. The sleeping clothes he had on were wrinkled and covered in whatever experiment he was working on the day before, and the bags under his eyes were dark; even compared to what they normally were when he couldn't sleep.