#also 0.279 was not a mistake

[1-800-get-sherlocked]

this was supposed to be an incorrect quote but it spiraled out of control

note: im american idk if yall brits have cuties (kidding im sure ur all cuties ok im sorry i couldnt resist) but i really had to alright pls be-ryllium ar-gon with me yes im sorry we are revisiting chem lads dont worry i will provide you translations/i will make it obvious also theres switching povs & im telling you ahead of time: the puns are very, very bad 

also i wrote this at like late 5am un-beta-ed so please forgive me for any mistakes, i have 0.5 braincells left and i used up 0.279 for academic papers

kind of a crackfic btw 

ok without further ado bc i ramble too much, other notes at the end: 

*on Valentine’s Day*

John woke up to the sound of clinking and the faint sound of rustling of papers, the other side of the bed empty and cold. Ah, probably on that experiment again with those oranges he said were also a good pet name for me. What was it again? Right, cuties. A small smile appeared on John’s unshaven face. His hubby was too endearing for his own good sometimes. 

In the kitchen, Sherlock paced back and forth, eyeing his failed experiment with disdain. Which he was totally worrying more about rather than whether his plan would work. Would John like these? Maybe he should have just gone with George’s advice and went to get some takeout Angelo’s like they often did during quarantine, but Sherlock wanted to make this special. He nervously adjusted his shirt collar, looking down to check that he was indeed wearing the purple shirt John loved so much. Apparently it was called the purple shirt of sex or something? The detective honestly had no idea how or why but that wasn’t important, what was important was John. John. He still couldn’t believe the brilliant, patient, and gorgeous army-doctor was....his husband. After the drunk night they had that one day, things got a bit heated and...well, you could say they definitely had a good time and cleared up their feelings for each other, much to Donovan’s chagrin who lost Scotland Yard’s bet by just a week. Mrs. Hudson was the winner, obviously. 

Thank god for Mrs. Hudson’s and Gavin; he didn’t know what he would do without both of them giving him advice, though the DI wasn’t always pleased to be summoned in the middle of a case to help Sherlock out. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Sherlock scanned his surroundings to make sure everything was in place. Ah, he could now hear John about to step into the aisle, right on time. Quickly, Sherlock went back to pretending he was working on his experiment. 

Just a few moments later, John padded into the kitchen, clean shaven, and as expected, looked at Sherlock pointedly. Of course, the detective was used to this and promptly ignored it, waiting for John to say something. 

“Sherlock,” John said, tilting his head to the side a bit, “What is going on here? Why are there little sticky notes all over the place?” 

Sherlock simply shrugged. “Why don’t you go take a look for yourself, John? I’m sure you would be able to find out that way.” 

Sighing, John went back into the living room and perused the various bright colored sticky notes. Sherlock’s scratchy handwriting was on all of them, along with small drawings on some. Stepping closer, John took the first one off the wall above the couch and read the note out loud: 

“Jawn, you’re small and angy, just like the bunch of Copper (Cu) Tellurium (Te) Iodine (I) Einstieinium (Es) we got the other day. Will you be my clemenvalentine?” Belatedly, John noticed a small orange drawn next to it, with a small >:[ face. Sherlock still wasn’t going to let him ever live it down, huh? 

Shaking his head with the faintest hint of a smile crossing John’s expression, he moved on to the next one. 

“John, the first time we met and dined at Angelo’s, I said girlfriends weren’t really my area. What I really wanted to say was that I was Gallium (Ga) Yttrium (Y), John. Obviously, I am married to my work and love of my life now, but would you still be my Valentine again, for the 11th time?” This one was written in rainbow ink, probably one of those pens Rosie got for Sherlock, insisting that he would have some use for them someday. Which he did, evidently.

As John picked up more and more notes strewn around the room, and read more and more puns, some of his favorites being, “Forget Hydrogen–you’re my number one element” and “Why don’t we go back to the bedroom and form a covalent bond ;) Or we could do it on the table, periodically” he didn’t know whether he should have laughed or cried. Maybe both. Some were so bad they were hilarious but the fact that they were that bad just made it more funny and endearing. Oh Sherlock, where would I bee without you? who would I be without you?

Oh god, John realized with horror. Sherlock’s terrible puns were rubbing off him and invading his thoughts. Typical of him, that bloody cute charismatic arse.  

Finally, John reached the last one. 

“John, I know I’m not very good with expressing my affection for you, but I want you to know, especially today, that Iodine (I) Lutetium (Lu) Vanadium (V) Uranium (U). You are my best friend, my lover, my husband, and my lifelong partner. You’ll always be my doctor and blogger at heart.” On the side, a small smiley face was drawn. 

The entire time, John knew Sherlock’s eyes were on him, even though he pretended to be busy with his experiment. The doctor knew those telltale signs: tense shoulders coupled with a nervous biting of his lip. Watching closely, trying to gauge his reaction after reading all of them.  

“Sherlock, were you trying to test my chemistry knowledge again? You know it’s been awhile since I’ve studied all this, right?” 

Of course, Sherlock knew this. Sherlock always knew but was somehow still an oblivious idiot. My oblivious idiot, John thought affectionately. 

“Well yes but I-” a beat. Sherlock took a deep breath. “Well, it’s always you making plans for Valentine’s, and I thought, maybe I should take charge this time, with something other than Angelo’s–don’t worry, I’ve already ordered takeout for dinner, I know you love their food, John, so I still did it. But I wanted to do more for you this time. Mrs. Hudson and Rosie agreed it would help me express myself better, so I tried it out. Um-” Sherlock stopped mid sentence as John walked up to him, and put a finger over those pouty lips. 

“Sherlock, you amazing, adorable, gorgeous man, you’re so cute, you know that? And I did in fact notice your shirt–we will be making use of that later, obviously.” The detective gulped visibly. “But for the record, I want you to know that I know how much you love me, and you know how much I love you, so don’t ever feel bad about having trouble expressing it verbally; I can always tell through the small thoughtful gestures you do for me and the looks you throw my way when you think I can’t see. What you did for me today was very sweet, and it made my day–I will always cherish this memory on this Valentine’s, but I can assure you my love for you will never change no matter what, whether or not you do gestures like this for me. My love is of the same magnitude as yours to mine, and it never stops growing everyday”

Sherlock beamed, that charming crooked grin of his slowly spreading across his face, and John pulled him down for a kiss, both laughing against each other’s lips lightly as their mouths clumsily crashed together. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”