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Sherlock pulls John’s cardigan tighter around his chest, huffing as John sets the camera up. "Must you record this too? I don't feel very attractive right now, and I'd appreciate not having it immortalised through a lens." Sherlock grouses, and John has to bite a laugh back. Because really, Sherlock does look a bit of a mess.
His dark curls are haywire and frizzy, pushed and covering his forehead sticking in every which direction. He's wearing shorts-(much unlike his usual outfit of pin straight trousers- but of course John can account that to the time of day. Really, eight am is quite early, even for a genius such as his boyfriend.)- And one of johns old worn out, threadbare rugby tee shirts and another of johns old, large sport cardigans that was even big on John himself, so although the sleeve proportions fit Sherlock as well has the length, the width is completely too big for the taller man, making him look more softer and sweet, cosy and just beautiful. Adjectives do not fail him today, John thinks as he smiles at his boyfriend, watching him through the view finder.
"You look gorgeous, LOVE." John teases in a cockney accent. "Looking like a right treat you are."
"Shut up." Sherlock grumbles, a smile teasing the corner of his lips as he huffs indignantly.
"But you do though- look lovely. Beautiful." John repeats, punctuates his words with a smile as he finishes setting the camera up on the tripod. "And I'm recording because I want to remember these moments with you when we're old and delicate." Ignoring Sherlock's mumbling of "Sentiment." To which John responds with a kiss to shut him up as he moves to sit in between his boyfriend's knees. Knee on the ground. Leaving no room for more discussion as he speaks.
"I want to be able to remember you in this moment right now years and years from now. As beautiful, natural as you are, crazy hair. I want to remember your laugh and your smile, maybe even your tears, maybe-"
"J-John-"
"I want to remember your face and curls in the light of the early morning. I know it will fill me up to the brim with warmth, all the love that I have for you. I love you so incredibly much Sherlock Holmes-"
"Oh for gods s--"
"And everyday I am thankful to have you as my partner, my boyfriend. You're it for me Sherlock, I can't imagine spending life with anybody else but, you. You're everything that I need and want and I still can't comprehend how it took me so long to even realise. So if you could well-" John chuckles nervously, not really knowing where to proceed without overly doing it, Sherlock makes him feel strangely nervous, "do me the pleasure of-"
"-marrying you. yes, yes I bloody well do!" Sherlock finishes. John opens his eyes (he doesn't recall even ever closing them) only to see Sherlock with tears streaming down his angular face, smiling so wide his dimples pop. Sherlock crying, when was the last time he ever did. John thinks in awe.
John laughs, feeling love surge through his heart with all the affection he has for the man in front of him. He pulls out the ring from its box, "I know it's not much... but it's all I can afford right now since, well the expenditure of-" johns clears his throat, to try and rid it of the lump that's formed, that period of his life was so sotough, so hard. "I know you deserve so so much-"
"John, shut up. Shutupshutupshutup." Sherlock interrupts through his hiccups, "I have you. You my dear John Watson, what more could I want? Or need as a matter of fact. And this is beautiful." Sherlock says after he slides the ring on.
The ring itself was a 5mm 14k white gold band, polished and matte. Looking at it on Sherlock's hand made it look beautiful, otherworldly. How he could turn such an ordinary thing into something so stunning still gets to John.
"I'm glad you think so love, it only cost an arm and a leg, one of the finest jewellers London could supply too."
"Argos?"
"Only the best?" John confirms with a laugh.
"It most certainly is.” Sherlock says seriously. Looking up at John again, “I love you."
And John audibly gasps, because even though Sherlock always made John feel loved, even though he was so sweet with everything he did for John, the i love you's were seldom and rare, just the vocalisation of those three words and John feels like his entire world is in front of him, glassy grey/blue eyes and sweet dimples. Sentiment. He thinks with a laugh.
"God, good god, how I love you too." And John laughs, pulling his boyfriend- no fiancé- no husband into him, crashing against each other and falling to the floor with a resounding 'oof'. (He'll later regret it, god his back, he's getting old for this- but for now he'll bask in the joy of his would be husband.) Its a position John thinks he'll forever adore, shaking with laughter as he watches a mildly shocked but equally laughing Sherlock trying to regain his balance, straddling him on top, on John’s torso.
The London sun seems to stream in brighter through the windows of their flat, the city seems to liven up even more, the morning hustle and traffic a murmur to be heard within the flat. Yet the world seems like it only exists in those four walls of Baker Street and there is no other place John could ever, ever want to be.