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John was sitting at the kitchen table, contently eating a meal he’d prepared for himself. He made enough for Sherlock as well, even though the detective wasn’t currently home...and he probably wouldn’t want to eat anyway.
The doctor was nearly finished with his lunch, when he heard large feet coming quickly up the stairs and into the flat. John looked up to see Sherlock standing in the center of the living room, hands behind his back, a pleased smile on his face.
With a brow arched curiously, John greeted him.
“Hello, Sherlock...why the face?” John keeps his brow risen.
“I’ve gotten you a gift.” Sherlock takes long strides towards john, sitting a slender glass vase onto the kitchen table. The vase itself was beautiful, couldn’t have been cheap. The glass was stained, designed with beautiful curves and patterns. Inside the vase, were roses with their thorns removed. There had to be more than a dozen in the vase because the bouquet was so extravagant.
“Sherlock...you got me flowers?” John reached up his thumb to the velvety petals.
“Broses, John.”
John’s hand stopped moving over the petals. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I told you what type of flowers they were.” Sherlock walks over to the stove, peering into the pot to see what John had cooked. “Pasta.” He states.
“I mean...did you have a stroke while you were telling me the type of flower? Because I’m pretty sure you didn’t say ‘roses’ correctly.”
“Oh,” Sherlock turned away from the stove. “I said ‘broses’, yes.”
“But why?” John leaned forward to smell the fragrant flowers.
“Because,” Sherlock sits at the table across from John, in front of his microscope. “I’ve read on the internet, that in order to really give the effect that we are best friends, I am to ‘no homo’ everything we do. Otherwise, people will think we’re gay.”
“Please never go on the internet, ever again. This is ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Sherlock glances up from the lenses of his microscope.
“Yes! Buying me a bouquet of roses to prove that we’re not gay?” John puts a hand over his face. “Did anyone see you carrying these into the flat? My god, people will definitely talk!”
“Nonsense, if they do, just say ‘no homo’.” Sherlock informs him. “It negates all seemingly and genuinely homosexual behaviour.”
“Sherlock, you are aware that I’m your bloody-”
“Hush, John.” Sherlock waves a hand at him. “Eat your pasta, smell your roses, close your mouth.”
John stares at him for a few moments longer. “Thank you for the ‘broses’, you pleb.”
Sherlock let a faint smirk paint his pretty mouth.
~*~
This time, John came home from work at the surgery to another flower arrangement. This one was in a green vase, just as spectacular as the one containing the roses. They were sitting beautifully on the coffee table in front of the sofa. There was a note in front of them. John took off his jacket, excitedly dropping it onto the couch in order to pick up the note and read it. He opened the card and read it, sighing at what he’d read.
‘No homo, -SH’
With another sigh, John sat down on the couch to examine these flowers as well.
“Sherlock!” John called out into the flat, he hadn’t heard Sherlock about. But, he saw the man’s coat and scarf still hung neatly, his mobile on the desk next to his laptop. So, he was most likely still here.
“Yes?” Came the response from the bedroom. “Oh, wait...John! You’re home!”
“Yes, I’m home.” John confirms, then he hears Sherlock running down the hall, through the kitchen.
“John!” Sherlock exclaims, again, looking very pleased with himself. “Do you like them?”
“Do they have a funny name as well?”
“Funny? No.” Sherlock shakes his head. He’s dressed in only a pastel blue towel around his waist. Nothing more, John’s unfazed by this. Sherlock didn’t like to wear clothes when he didn’t have to, and John’s learned to except the fact. “They’re daffodudes.”
John sputtered a symphony of noises, closing his eyes tight and leaning forward, arms holding his stomach. “Shut the hell up, Sherlock.”
The younger man’s brow furrowed. “What’s so funny?”
“You’ve got to be making these up...or...not,” John says through laughter. “Even you aren’t that clever!”
Sherlock folds his arms. “I am that clever, thank you.” He retorts. “Besides, I’ve told you that I found this on the internet.”
“I know, I know...” John wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “But, why are you doing this?”
“Must I have a reason?”
“Yes.” John nods at the flowers. “It’s ridiculous.”
“So...you don’t like the daffodils, then?” Sherlock sighs and sits next to John. “I thought I was doing well.”
“I do like them, Sherlock. Truly, I do.” John rolls his eyes. “But you don’t have to do this, I already know I’m your best friend.”
“I’m aware that you know you’re my best friend,” Sherlock shakes his head, curls still a bit damp from being recently washed. “But...well, I never really showed you that.”
“You saved my life a million times.”
“But, I-”
“Also, you don’t have to do this...because you’re my boyfriend, silly.”
Sherlock blushed at the word. “Yes...I know.”
“So you don’t have to run about buying flowers, at least...not in a way in which you constantly pretend it’s not a gay thing...because, we’re pretty damn gay.” John begins to chuckle and Sherlock’s baritone laughter chimes in as well.
“It made more sense in my head.” Sherlock folds his arms, trying to appear grumpy. Failing miserably.
“Most things do, Sherlock.” John admires the daffodils.
“I just...was thinking back to when we were just friends.” Sherlock sighs. “I wasn’t...very outwardly friendly with you. I thought this would-”
“You are the sweetest, most kind man in the world. And, I love you endlessly.” John presses a wet kiss to Sherlock’s cheek.
“I...I love you too, John.” Sherlock chews his bottom lip. “So, no more flowers?”
“Not for a while. I’m just fine with my daffodudes and broses.” John begins laughing again, Sherlock just keeps his arms folded.
“The internet is a ferocious beast.” The brunette declares.
“You’re too much.” John pats Sherlock’s bare thigh and rises to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Sherlock watches John cross the room.
“I’ve gotten you something as well.”
“Oh?”
John opens the fridge, taking out the item he’d gotten Sherlock. The doctor crosses over the living room, back to his silly detective.
“Guess what it is?” John bites his lip in anticipation.
“Probably...something really ironic, or super unexpected.” Sherlock shrugs. “Judging by the goofy face you’re pulling, it’s probably both.”
“The first one.” John holds forward a small bouquet of flowers, and begins chuckling at the wide-eyed and quirked smile that Sherlock wore when he saw them.
“Tell me they have a funny name, please.” Sherlock speaks unblinking at the small arrangement.
“I thought you said the names weren’t funny?” John teases.
“Tell me what they’re called John, please.”
“Mari-brolds.” John states. “Instead of marigolds...because...the bro part and the-”
“I am so damn in love with you,” Sherlock declares. “You big nerd, John.”
“Look who’s talking! You bloody started this, not me.” John hands the maribrolds over to Sherlock.
“You giant nerd, John. I’m quite literally blown away.” Sherlock’s eyes have remained wide since seeing John’s bouquet. “What made you get ‘no-homo’ flowers for me?”
“I...dunno.” John shrugs. “I couldn’t just let you have all the fun.”
“John...it’s very rare that I can be completely surprised by something.” Sherlock’s eyes have finally gone back to normal. “But, I’m so glad that it was you to surprise me. Other wise, I’d be horribly upset.”
“You’re a little annoyed now, I can tell.”
“I’m annoyed that I didn’t see this coming, yeah.” Sherlock nods. “But, this is amazing.”
“I’m glad.” John leans forward to connect their lips gently.
“I want to buy dude-bro flowers for you, forever.”
“I never want to hear you say ‘dude-bro’ ever again. It sounds awful from you.”
“You’re one to talk.” Sherlock rolls his eyes but smiles anyway.
These two lovely fools.