John laid, stretched on the couch, face buried in the cushion. Sherlock was out, doing something John was apparently "not supposed to know about". Probably something pertaining to this week's case. Not that he minded, though- he had a long day at the clinic and only wanted to rest his eyes for an hour or so. Being Sherlock Holmes's boyfriend (Partner? Lover? They had never really discussed the title) was exhausting enough, added to his actual, paying job…well, he was drained to say the least. He was just dozing off, when Sherlock came bursting through the door. "John!" he shouted, looking around wildly before settling his eyes on the ex-army doctor.

"What? Jesus, Sherlock, I was almost asleep!" John said crossly, rolling over to look at Sherlock. The detective's cheeks were tinged pink and he had a stupid grin on his face—very strange. Unsettling, almost. "What?" John furrowed his eyebrows. "Why are you all smiley? It's a bit scary." His confusion increased as Sherlock strode over to stand right in front of him.

"I know this is boring and conventional," Sherlock started, pulling a little black box out of his coat pocket. John's breath caught in his throat. "But I also know it's something that you want. Not that I don't- I mean…here." He opened the box, revealing a small, gold band. "Do I need to ask?" Sherlock asked, a bit sheepishly, staring down at John, his usual calm, calculating expression replaced with one of nervousness and exhilaration. Head spinning, John jumped up, wrapping him arms around Sherlock's neck.

"No, you don't have to ask," he smiled. "And, yes. The answer is yes."