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John was reading near the fire when the voice of his boyfriend - Oh my God, boyfriend! - calls him from the kitchen table.
"Johnnnnn"
Keeping his eyes on his medical journal, he mutters a distracted "Yes?"
"You love me, right?"
The small amount of insecurity, the slight hesitation, it always gets to John's heart. How is it possible for him to still have doubt? "Of course, love, from the start, now and always."
"That's... good. Yes, really good," Sherlock full of assurance and now sexy as fuck voice said, "can you do... something for me?"
His mind now full of non-PG feelings, John smiles and replies with a sulky tone, "yes, darling. Anything!" Before adding with a little chuckle, "except getting milk, this is your time!"
Laughing lewdly, the detective shakes his head, "no, not milk... This is better, I think. You'll see. Just come here. Please."
His knees shaking a bit with anticipation, he wasn't able to resist when Sherlock says 'please', he walks in direction of the kitchen absorbing the scene in front of him. His boyfriend is uncustomarily wearing a black jacket instead of the usual robe he wears over his clothes when he's at home. Licking his lips, John's eyes follow the opening of the midnight blue shirt, knowing perfectly what was hiding under. The alabaster skin of his torso, the perky pink of his responsible nipples, the dozen scars on his back, proof that nothing can keep them apart! Proof that Sherlock will always found a way to get back to him... Now near his lover, John softly strokes the wonderful curls, still surprise after all this time that he was allowed to do so, and murmurs "What do you need love?"
Calmly, without moving his eyes from the experiment in front of him, Sherlock smirks "Could you please give me my phone? It's in my coat pocket."
"Wha -" stepping a bit away, John felt as if someone just spills a bucket of iced-water on him! "What the Hell, Sherlock! I told you over and over that you -"
"But, John... My experience is at a critical point!" He cocks his head a bit to look at his boyfriend. "I really need you! And you said that you love me!"
"Of all the manipulative..." John mutters, still angry but unable to just go back to his chair to sulk, "for the Grace of God... I'm going to kill you one day, you know!" Extending his hand, he quickly drops it in the exterior pocket of the posh suit. Nothing.
"In the inside pocket, John..."
Grumbling, but unable to stay cold as his hand needs to follow his boyfriend perfect torso to get to the small inner pocket, the doctor kisses Sherlock's left cheek and murmurs. "You nutter!" Of course, the phone wasn't in that pocket either. "Sherlock, I don't know what you are playing at but -" John suddenly stops talking as his fingers grab something small. Something hard. Something round. Oh. It can't. Is it. Oh. My. God. Is this real?
A minute or so later, his fingers were still holding the ring without being able to get the courage to get it out. And his shoulder was starting to ache a bit.
"John?" Sherlock asks worriedly, "I think the usual custom in this kind of situation is to say yes... or no." A bit anxious now, maybe I was too subtle? I'm really not good at all this romantic stuff, he slowly kisses the doctor's head. "Honey? Are you all right?"
Keeping the ring into the palm of his hand, the older man finally straightens himself before dropping on Sherlock's lap. "You didn't ask the question, you berk, but yes, a thousand time yes!"