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Just a few hours after their first time, and Sherlock is already wondering how John would propose. Well not just after they’ve first made love. It hasn’t been just anything. It’s been the most wonderful, amazing, extraordinary, brilliant, night either has ever had and Sherlock can’t keep the dopey smile off his face as he sighs into his pillow. Wrapped up in John’s warm embrace, he can’t help it. Flashes of different cake designs keep flying about in his head.
Victorian in style, the colors of the rainbow could spiral around the cylindrical tiers, not quite all around like a Christmas tree, but once it got to the point where another spiral should start—the colors of the bi flag (for John) could elegantly drip down in the opposite direction—as if all the colors where in the middle of a lovely dance. Is it too much? Are they the kind of couple who makes a big deal of how they overcame discrimination in who they love? He doesn’t think John would feel uncomfortable, but he is self-conscious about the matter every once in a while. Understandable, considering his age and how long he’d been repressed. But John—beautiful, amazing John—would probably let him. Best play it subtle though. There could be a pattern of rainbow highlights on one layer, in the form of edible diamond crystals. Pink, lavender, and blue highlights on every other layer. Or should the highlights be simple, elegant bees? No, the toppers could be two bees. Red velvet in flavor. John won’t mind. Overall should the cake be white then?
Or maybe green carnations could work? The thought brings another smile to Sherlock’s face. It’d be a very satisfying little detail. But then what color to go with the green? Definitely not rainbow or bi pride colors—it’d all clash. Hmm, yellow or gold could be an option. Not a gaudy gold, but a soft one. But then again he really would like purple at his wedding. He likes purple (not lilac). And he knows John likes him in purple too. It’s such a regal, mystical type of color. Befitting for him in John’s opinion—dark and mysterious. And it’d contrast nicely with yellow. It’d call back the attention of the gold strands among most of the silvery hairs on John’s head. Radiant, joyous, bright in more ways than one, yellow suits John. He’s the warmth and comfort to his cold, hard logic. The sun to his moon. His conductor of light. Yes, yellow will have to be in the wedding. But then blue will have to be present too, seeing as it brings out the cobalt in John’s eyes.
So maybe they could just wear the green carnations on their tuxes? On the invitations? Oh! John would love it if they read: Come if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway! Or should there be bees on the invitations instead of the carnations?
Yes that would look nice on the cake. Ombré purple to yellow with intricate damask that has the small rainbow accents in intersections—maybe a little lace mixed into the design. Music notes! Music notes intertwined with the damask! It could even be the lyrics of a new song. One solely for John and himself. Their wedding song. He hadn’t even realized until now that his subconscious has slowly been composing one all night. And Angelo would cater of course. It’s only logical because that’s where John would propose. At the little restaurant where they had their first case.
Would John even propose though… After everything with Mary would he still be willing to?
But John loves him.
He’d said as much (and more) earlier. Sherlock’s face heats up at the memory. Surely he’d want to?
Oh and Mike Stamford could be the officiator! Lestrade—the best man. And should Molly or Mrs. Hudson be the maid of honor? A tough choice to make. Do they have to have a maid of honor or two best men? The little boy who enjoyed the maggots could be the ring bearer. Or was he from Mary’s side of the wedding? Well they’ll figure it out. Now for their honeymoon. He’s always wanted to stay at the Golden Hinde Museum Ship. Do they allow for honeymoons? He’ll have to look into it. The research doesn’t bother him this time round though. On the contrary, he’s eager to get started.
On and on he continues to plan, all the while John’s soft breathe ruffles the curls at the back of his neck. He falls into a peaceful sleep, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s been mumbling aloud. His future husband smiles. He heard everything.