(ASDFGHJK I love you PK ;) Thank you for the prompt – I hope you like it!!)

…

John sensed there was something wrong as soon as he saw the dimly lit living room. Rose petals lined the floor; candles were set up and flickering in the corners and on the desk, dangerously close to neat piles of paperwork; flowers of every colour were pinned to the walls and standing in vases around the room… and Sherlock was stood beside a tiny dinner table, smiling broadly in his best suit.

“Welcome home, John.”

“What is this?” John frowned, setting his coat onto the rack.

Sherlock smiled happily. “It’s a surprise. Please, sit.”

He drew out a chair from the table and ushered John into it, sitting on the opposite side of the table. John touched the dainty tablecloth gingerly.

“Um… Sherlock… I’ve already eaten…” he began hesitantly.

“I know.” Sherlock smiled, waving off the awkwardness and replacing it with a million questions. “That’s why we have no dinner. I simply have a question for you.”

“Okay…” John frowned.

At John’s affirmation, Sherlock’s face drastically changed – it went from giddy grinning to a sort of pained, hopeful look, his eyes dimming and narrowing, his lips actually starting to wobble. He looked like he was either going to cry or burst into song. John opened his mouth to say something, but Sherlock stood up before he could, his knees knocking unnaturally together. His hands actually shook! John’s heart started thudding faster – was Sherlock going to kill him? To be honest, he did look rather murderous…

“John, I need to ask you something, and if I don’t I think I may explode.”

“Alright.”

Sherlock sank onto one knee, his hand hovering towards his pocket, his eyes shining with tears. “We have been together for ten years, and-”

“Hold on!” John held up a hand. “We’ve only known each other for… about five months, nearly! Where did you get-”

Sherlock’s face returned to his usual passive expression, the tears disappearing. “Play along, please, John.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

The lovestruck, painful, hopeful, weird look was back. “Ten years is a long time. And now that I have you here, I… I can’t lose you. I never want to lose you.”

John’s breath hitched in his throat. “Sherlock, I-”

“John.” Sherlock’s voice lowered into a seductive purr. “Will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” he produced a small velvet box from his pocket and held it towards John.

John yelped. “Husband!”

“Partner. Concubine. Companion. Spouse. Whatever you want to call it – will you be mine, John? Forever?”

John’s heart skipped a beat – a trickle of sweat rolled into his collar, and he held out his hands towards Sherlock’s face. “You mad bastard… yes, alright, I will. Yes!”

Sherlock’s lovestruck face disappeared again, and he threw the ring box onto the chair. He stood up, brushing his suit off. “Thank you, John.”

John frowned. “What?”

“We’ve just solved another case.” Sherlock smiled quickly, darting into the kitchen to check on some chemicals.

John sat in his chair, trembling all over. He’d never felt so angry. “What was all that about?!”

Sherlock didn’t answer. John stood up and made his way over to the ring box – it was empty. He threw it against the wall, cracking it open, and stormed upstairs with what was left of his tattered dignity.