I don't own the characters I'm about to mess up! Sir Arthur Conan Doyle does, the genius! This contains gay material! Don't like it? Don't read it! .-. You've been warned~
"Are you ready, Holmes?" John asked, skimming through the newspaper.
Sherlock stared out the window. "For what?" He asked, looking as if he was calculating all the movements of everyone outside.
John sighed, "For my stag party! Don't tell me you've forgotten!" He huffed.
Sherlock looked at him incredulously. "I would never!" He rolled his eyes and pulled on his jacket. "Don't wait up, nanny!" He called to the landlady, Mrs. Hudson, and they left.
~~
Sherlock had "forgotten" about the stag party. He wanted it to be just him and John. Of course, his brother, Mycroft, insisted on going.
"I see how you look at him, Shirley. It's obvious how you feel about him." Mycroft said.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Mycroft. We're partners. He is my doctor and I, his patient. I don't feel anything of the sort for him." Sherlock mumbled.
Mycroft smiled. "You lack conviction, Shirley."
Sherlock hung his head. Only 2 people really knew him. Mycroft and John. John was drunk and playing cards, determined to have fun, despite Sherlock not inviting any of his friends.
"Watson, let's go. Take your winnings." Sherlock said.
"I'll drive," John laughed.
Sherlock huffed. "No you won't. Come along." He rolled his eyes and dragged John to his little car. He took John back to 221b Baker Street and flopped him on the spare bed. "You've gained weight, doctor." Sherlock sighed.
John laughed, "And you've lost it, Holmes."
"That I have..." Sherlock sighed and started to walk away when he felt John grab his jacket. He looked over his shoulder and saw John sleeping but had a firm grip on his jacket. He smiled slightly and took his jacket off , letting John keep it for the night. "I don't want to give you up, John..." He said softly then left the room to get as much sleep as he could, for tomorrow was the wedding day.