So they all walked solemnly down to the shop, the bright light burning their eyes. It felt like someone was inside Sherlock's skull, whacking his brain with a meat cleaver, he was miserable. When they got to the restaurant, the music was turned down really low and the lights dimmed, Sarah and Jeanette leaning on the counter and groaning.
"So, how'd the first company party go?" Jeanette muttered.
"Next time, only tea." Molly decided, putting her coat onto the coat rack and walking over to the counter. Carl was sweeping up the floor, which still hadn't been cleaned from the night previous, streamers and strewn cups all pushed into a neat little pile in the middle of the room. The chairs were down, but the tables didn't look very clean, and the stage and karaoke machine still sat as a terrible reminder in the middle of the floor.
"I'll help clean up." John decided, rubbing his face before grabbing a wet rag.
"You're famous Sherlock, already three hundred likes on Twitter." Sarah laughed, holding up her phone to where Molly's video was playing on a loop.
"Oh, that was terrible." Sherlock admitted, grabbing the phone and watching for himself. Molly hadn't been kidding when she described what he was doing. He sounded like a rubber chicken that just got run over by a car, screeching along to the lyrics and dancing like a drunken idiot. At the end John dipped him and kissed him, and Sherlock couldn't help but groan.
"So everyone saw that?" he asked, pushing the phone back over to Sarah, who laughed very softly, as if not to hurt her head.
"Oh, ya, everyone." Jeanette decided.
"I'm shocked you haven't fired me." Sherlock laughed.
"Well, let's just say I'm glad no one videotaped my duet with Sarah." Jeanette laughed.
"Oh stop, we did great." Sarah insisted, tucking her phone in her pocket and turning to watch John and Carl clean up.
"Should we get the ugly machine out of there?" Sarah asked.
"Nah, turn it on, charge a dollar or something." Jeanette decided.
"Do you really want that much noise?" Sherlock pointed out.
"You know what, on second thought, John get rid of that machine!" she called.
"Where do you want me to put it?" John called back.
"In the corner, out of sight!" Jeanette insisted.
"Oh my god, stop!" Sherlock groaned, clutching his ears and sinking to the counter, his head on fire.
"Sorry." Jeanette whispered.
"We should get open, shouldn't we?" Sarah asked.
"I suppose." Molly agreed. There was a loud, horrible screeching sound as John tried to push the machine and the stage to the wall. So Molly went over and flipped the sign, pulling on an apron with a laborious groan.
"This is going to be terrible." Sherlock decided.
"You said it." Molly agreed. And it was. Every loud sound, every chair screech, Sherlock's brain throbbed and his head pounded, it was most unpleasant. Carl was the only one fully functioning, obviously he didn't want to rub it into their faces too much that he was probably the only responsible adult of the group, but Sherlock thought he heard the cahier laughing as Sarah dropped a cup of coffee and cursed worse than Molly's poor ears could possibly handle. He had to just talk really quietly to give people their orders, some looked really confused, others laughed, and some (mostly elders) gave him suspicious glares and took their coffee without a thanks. Little did Sherlock care, every coffee was one gone, and soon, the costumers would be gone, and they could finally go back home, and lay on the couch, and sleep....
"You look off in dreamland." John decided.
"Hard to be in dreamland when you're right here." Sherlock pointed out.
"You're getting better." John shrugged.
"I try." Sherlock assured.
"Got my coffee?" John asked.
"Your what? Oh, maybe..." Sherlock muttered, looking at the counter where there was one labeled John.
"Well doesn't this remind me of our first meeting?" John laughed, finding his coffee behind an old napkin holder.
"John, I'm miserable." Sherlock decided. John just laughed, sipping his coffee and nodding.
"You'll be alright Sherlock." John assured, patting him on the shoulder before going over to his booth and sitting back down. Sherlock just groaned, there went the most entertaining part of his entire shift. When finally the work shift was over, everyone stumbled out of their aprons and cleared out as quickly as possible, even Molly didn't even linger to say hello to Tom. They threw their aprons into a ball, grabbed their coats, and ran as fast of they possibly could. When they got to the apartment building, Sherlock ran at john's couch, face planting into the cushions and groaning loudly.
"If you need me, I'll be here for the rest of my life." Sherlock decided.
"That sounds like a productive lifestyle." John agreed, sitting on top of Sherlock's back and making the poor man screech, not sounding too different from his version of Barbie Girl.
"What is wrong with this couch? It makes all these funny noises?" John asked, jumping on top of the back of Sherlock's shoulder blades once more, finally making Sherlock push him off with all of his might.
"You're going to be a great dad; you already make dad jokes and don't even have a child." Sherlock decided, sitting up and staring blankly at the wall.
"Do you still have some of that ice cream left?" Sherlock asked hopefully.
"I think some more vanilla, want it?" John asked.
"Yes." Sherlock agreed. John just smiled, as if he was still trying to comprehend how he had such an adorable man child as his boyfriend, but never the less he went over to the freezer and pulled out the ice cream.
"Not much left." John shrugged, taking a spoon and giving the container to Sherlock.
"That's alright; I'm not terribly hungry anyway." Sherlock admitted.
"Me neither." John agreed as Sherlock dug halfheartedly at the frozen ice cream with his spoon.
"Want to watch some TV?" John asked.
"No." Sherlock sighed.
"Ya, me neither." John admitted.
"Fair enough." Sherlock agreed. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling into a little ball and rolling into John, still trying his best to eat the ice cream but also to wrap an arm around John's neck.
"You're all snuggly today." John decided.
"I'm tired." Sherlock admitted.
"I'm not complaining, I'm tired too." John agreed.
"I really hope my video doesn't go viral, I don't need that on my conscience." Sherlock decided.
"Come on, you'll laugh someday." John insisted.
"Maybe someday." Sherlock admitted with a sigh. At that moment, his phone started to buzz in his pocket, and since Molly was probably already asleep, and John was with him, it could only be one person. Or, persons, in this case.
"That's your phone." John decided.
"Get it for me." Sherlock muttered.
"You're an idiot, where is it?" John asked.
"In my pocket." Sherlock admitted. John sighed, digging into Sherlock's jacket pocket and pulling out his phone, which was still buzzing.
"It's your parents." John sighed.
"Decline." Sherlock decided. But, of course, John his talk.
"Sherlock, hi, it's mom!" Mrs. Holmes said loudly. John shoved the phone to Sherlock's ear, who had to drop his spoon back into the ice cream container in order to talk.
"Hi mom." Sherlock muttered.
"Oh, you don't sound too good, are you sick?" she asked.
"Tired, long day at work." Sherlock admitted.
"You have a job! HONEY, SHERLOCK HAS A JOB!" Mrs. Holmes called to her husband.
"THAT'S WONDERFUL!" he screamed back. Sherlock held the phone a foot away from his ear and he could still hear them chattering.
"A girlfriend and a job, what else could we want?" she sighed. Sherlock heard John chuckle next to him, but didn't say anything.
"Speaking of what you want, why'd you call?" Sherlock snapped.
"No need to get all snappy, I just wanted to know what you wanted for dinner, any recommendations, and I know nothing about your girlfriend, I have no idea what she might want for Christmas." Mrs. Holmes sighed, as if it were such a great tragedy.
"Say cologne." John whispered with a laugh.
"She wants a Ken doll." Sherlock decided.
"She....what?" Mrs. Holmes asked, sounding genuinely worried.
"Nothing, ignore that, she likes anything, just get whatever you want." Sherlock insisted.
"Alright then, I was thinking about doing a ham, you know, tradition, how does baked beans sound, and a Jell-O salad, and mashed potatoes?" Mrs. Holmes asked.
"Sounds great mom." Sherlock sighed.
"And for breakfast?" Mrs. Holmes asked.
"Oh, just get me Lucky Charms." Sherlock shrugged.
"Alright, and your girlfriend? Still not used to saying that..." Mrs. Holmes admitted.
"Better not get used to it." John whispered.
"What cereal do you want?" Sherlock muttered.
"Ooh, is she there now?" Mrs. Holmes asked excitedly.
"No, she's not." Sherlock insisted.
"HELLO SHERLOCK'S GIRLFRIEND, I CAN'T WAIT TO MEET YOU!" Mrs. Holmes screeched.
"Mom, she's not here, shush. She wants, raisin bran, extra fiber, bit of a bowel issue she's got." Sherlock decided, and John slapped him.
"Oh dear, well, then I'll get some raw fiber then, that always helps when your father..." she started.
"Okay, TMI mother." Sherlock decided.
"What does that mean?" Mrs. Holmes asked.
"Never mind that, is that all?" Sherlock sighed.
"Well, I was thinking about inviting Uncle Rick, since he's only going to be eating in the church, and Mycroft's not bringing anyone..." she started.
"Uncle Rick can stay where he is, he likes it there, remember? Who better to celebrate Christmas with than Jesus himself?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Well, I guess that's true..." Mrs. Holmes sighed.
"Alright mom, thanks, I'll see you in three days." Sherlock decided.
"Oh, I just can't wait; it's going to be so much fun!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed.
"Oh yes, it'll be great." Sherlock agreed.
"Bye then." Mrs. Holmes agreed, and Sherlock hung up the phone without a response.
"Bowel movement? Ken Doll? Your parents probably hate me already!" John exclaimed, hitting Sherlock in the head lightly.
"Stop it, headache." Sherlock insisted, throwing his phone at the coffee table and leaning back into John's chest. "I hope they don't invite Uncle Rick, we're all dead."
"Once more, I don't mind." John insisted.
"I mind. I mean, they've watched me grow up, it makes me wonder, if Uncle Rick had known I was gay all along, would he have even sent me money on my birthday?" Sherlock asked.
"Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're an alien. They'll still love you." John insisted.
"Oh, you don't know my parents." Sherlock laughed.
"They sound wonderful, and they seem to value your opinion much more than you give them credit for." John insisted.
"You don't know my parents." Sherlock insisted.
"Well, I can't wait to meet them." John decided.
"I can definitely wait." Sherlock decided.
"So, I imagine I'm going to get dresses and sparkly notebooks for Christmas then?" John asked.
"And a Ken Doll, if everything goes according to plan." Sherlock laughed.
"They probably think I'm some eight year old." John insisted.
"I'm not that messed up." Sherlock defended.
"Well, they don't know that, do they?" John asked.
"Shush, you're not an eight year old, you're you, a perfect, beautiful man, and you're mine. So they're just going to have to get over that." Sherlock decided.
"Too right you are." John agreed. "Do you know what Molly's doing over the holidays?"
"Going up to her parents." Sherlock shrugged.
"With Tom?" John asked.
"I don't think they're at that level yet, no." Sherlock shrugged.
"That's alright." John agreed.
"We only got together like, three days before them though; I don't see why they're holding back." Sherlock shrugged.
"We knew each other a lot longer than that Sherlock, the kiss just made it official." John pointed out.
"You still don't think we rushed it, do you?" Sherlock asked.
"I think we did everything wondrously." John assured.
"Good, because I don't want to mess this up." Sherlock decided.
"There's no way you could way this up." John assured with a sigh.
"You sound as if there's a way you could." Sherlock decided.
"There's only too many ways I can." John agreed.
"No there isn't. No matter what happens, I'll always love you." Sherlock assured.
"Ya, you say that now." John sighed.
"What could possibly happen?" Sherlock asked.
"Maybe your parents will kick me out." John suggested.
"I'll leave with you, we'll rent a motel room, have a Christmas take out dinner of our own." Sherlock suggested.
"You really are perfect." John decided.
"That's not a term to just throw around." Sherlock insisted.
"I know, because you're the only one it can label." John agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Sherlock's head.
"You're too sweet." Sherlock insisted.
"I know." John laughed.
"That's modest." Sherlock decided, but he laughed as well, snuggling even closer to John and holding one of his hands.
"I really don't think your parents are threatening, certainly not when in comparison to mine." John decided.
"Should I be scared?" Sherlock asked.
"Probably." John agreed.
"Oh, brilliant." Sherlock muttered. He imagined himself going to John's house (which was represented by a large, Dracula like castle) and being introduced to some human-eating family of trolls.
"But it's not like you need ever face them, I'm not going to ask you to go get permission for my hand from my father." John decided.
"Oh dear, I could never dream of that." Sherlock laughed.
"Then I guess I'll have to be the one to propose." John decided.
"Maybe you just will." Sherlock agreed with a smile.
"I'd love that you know?" John sighed.
"Proposing?" Sherlock asked.
"No, just, the thought of living with you forever. We could share a house, raise a kid, and every day I can wake up and have you lying next to me, it would be just, perfect." John decided.
"I'd love to have that as well. Maybe have a dog as well." Sherlock agreed.
"But marriage seems to be a thing that's not for me, you know? It feels worlds away; it feels like even if I've known you three days or three years, it's still too early." John admitted.
"I know the feeling." Sherlock agreed.
"Are we both admitting that we have thought about proposing?" John asked.
"I've thought of it, you know, not seriously, I don't even have that type of money." Sherlock admitted.
"We'll take a loan from Molly." John shrugged.
"Obviously you've thought of it." Sherlock decided.
"Definitely. The only perfect world is a world where you're by my side." John insisted, and Sherlock giggled a little bit.
"I love you John." Sherlock decided, hugging the arms around his chest and smiling.
"I love you too Sherlock, no matter what happens." John agreed. But Sherlock couldn't even imagine something that could possibly happen, whatever would even try to break them apart. There could never be, they were forever in love, and that only had one ending, right?�>f�+
YOU ARE READING
The One Next Door
FanfictionSherlock is an aspiring artist with literally nothing except some dried old paints to his name, living in the same ratty old apartment building with his best friend, Molly Hooper. Eventually, the unoccupied apartment across the hall gets a new resid...