Downloading... [Sheriarty AU] {Completed - Edited}

Chapter Thirty: I love you but no.

Jim was nervous as hell and a big part of him wanted to stand up and run far, far away.

Eight months.

Thirty two weeks.

Two hundred and forty four days.

That's how long they'd been together. Eight whole months, and Jim was very much ready for the step he was about to take. That didn't stop him from feeling on the verge of vomiting because he was as so nervous.

In front of Jim sat a small rectangle box, the lid closed and keeping what it held within a secret for now.

He just stares at it. God knows for how long.

When he hears a knock at the door, Jim snatches the box from the table and stands in a rush. The box is stuffed inside his blazer pocket before he pulls it down, straightening the suit.

They were going out to some fancy restaurant that Sherlock knew and so Jim was taking full advantage of the formal dress code and was wearing one of his favourite Westwood suits - the navy one. He loved this one and thought that Vivienne's suits were worth every pay check he had to save (which, really, wasn't any because Jim always saves and saves - he's like his mother in that sense).

After he's straightened his clothing, Jim walks over to the door to let Sherlock in. Another rush of nausea washes over him and he frowns a little, thinking maybe that ill feeling wasn't just because of his nerves.

Then he's grinning, sick feeling forgotten, because in front of him is his gorgeous boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes. He's dressed in that damn purple shirt too.

"Hello, Sher-cock."

Chuckling, Sherlock steps close and plants a kiss on Jim's lips. That makes Jim huff and frown. Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

"You're meant to get annoyed by the nickname," Jim explains.

Sherlock just shrugs, his fingers sliding down Jim's arm and lacing with Jim's own fingers. "Ready to go?"

Jim shakes his head. All his nerves hit him, full throttle, again.

Oh, God. He thinks he's going to be sick...

"I.." Jim clears his throat, head spinning. He swallows. "Before we go.. I.. There's something I want to ask you."

It probably seems out of the ordinary to ask him now. Jim had his reasons.

For one, he did not want to ask with people around. And secondly, this way they could celebrate two things at dinner. Jim thought this method was rather genius, actually.

Frowning, Sherlock nods. "Okay." Jim doesn't say a word for a moment. "You look a bit pale... Are you okay, James?"

Jim nods and breathes out slowly, not realising he'd been holding his breath. He reaches into his blazer pocket and as his fingers close around the little box, he looks up to meet Sherlock's eyes.

"I..." He can't speak.

Instead, he pulls the box out and thrusts it into Sherlock's hands. He's panting now, breaking out into a sweat. He can feel the ill feeling rising and he very nearly doubles over and ruins their nice shoes. Somehow, he stills, breathes deeply and stops himself.

Sherlock's eyes are fixed on the box. Then he's shaking his head rapidly and Jim can see his mouth forming the word 'no' over and over. The box is practically launched back at Jim.

"James... I.. Fuck, I love you, okay, but no. No. This is.. Just no."

Jim frowns and looks down at his feet, box held limply in his hand. He nods, swallowing back tears now. Sherlock said no...