It’s on a whim; he walks straight past the florist on the commute home every other day, doesn’t he? Only today the gaudy Easter arrangements and strands of faerie lights are something like a siren song, and he stops in front of the shop and bites his lip and stares at the window, and something in him says that this is a thing he ought to do.
He never bought his girlfriends flowers. They wilt and die, after all, and there’s all that awkward scrambling for water and a vase to put them in. Always seemed a sad waste of ten quid. Wine was a far more sound investment for an evening.
Sherlock won’t expect flowers, though, and there’s something about that that makes the idea infinitely more appealing. There’s no generic flowers-chocolates-wine-jewelry progression with Sherlock. There are instead ‘here, I saw this book on people who’ve been killed by their exotic pets and thought you’d enjoy it’ gifts and ‘here’s a Lucky Cat because I love making you laugh’ gifts, and he thinks flowers might be just the thing for a ‘here, I think you’re lovely and wanted you to have something lovely’ gift. It might even be a surprise, and it’s not often John gets the pleasure of surprising the World’s Most Observant Man.
He goes inside and stands there awkwardly, tries to browse casually and feels more awkward still. Eventually the shop-keep takes pity on him and strolls over and gives what sounds like a prepared sales pitch for straight blokes. Which is fair enough, John thinks, but he still appreciates how the man’s demeanor loosens up considerably when he tells him he’s looking for something for his partner, emphasis on the not-a-wife-or-girlfriend.
He leaves the shop with a recommendation for a pub he ought to check out, several enthusiastic well-wishes for his and Sherlock’s relationship, and a dramatic bundle of irises wrapped up in soft green paper.
They’re tall, and curly, and vibrantly purple. They make him smile.
He jogs up the stairs back at 221b to the bellow of Sherlock’s voice telling him he’s late, and that he shouldn’t have bothered stopping for bread on the way home because Mrs. Hudson already brought some.
John wears a small, knowing smirk that grows into a grin that grows into a wide, joyful smile at the sight of Sherlock’s furrowed brow and sudden, surprised silence. This is good; this is very good.
John clears his throat and ducks his head slightly, holding out the flowers and watching Sherlock as he stands there quietly in his pajamas. John thinks he can feel his face go red. He tells Sherlock the flowers are for him. He tells him he saw them and thought of him. He tells him lots of things, talks about the supportive shop-keep, makes a few awkward jokes, realizes he’s rambling nervously, and shuts up after a minute.
Sherlock takes the flowers.
He stares at them, blinks a few more times, then shifts into John’s space and leans down and gathers him into a hug with his free arm, dropping his face into the space between John’s neck and his jacket collar. There are muffled words spoken into his skin, something like ‘thank you, they’re beautiful’ and ‘no-one’s ever.’ John brings his arms around Sherlock’s waist and breathes into the curls at the nape of his neck. They smell dusty and warm, like an unwashed day spent in the flat.
He feels suddenly nauseous with how much he loves him. He does. He’d buy him flowers every damn day if it would make him happy, fill the flat with them; sod his pollen allergy.
He watches a few minutes later as Sherlock clatters through his lab supplies and rifles through the kitchen cupboards before finally holding up an enormous beaker with a triumphant flourish and filling the thing carefully with water and irises and the little packet of plant food that came with them, and John thinks the awkward scrambling for a vase didn’t turn out to be that bad after all.
Holy shit oh my god my god!! This is just an amazing edit! Not just because of my fic being in there but just the coolness of the whole of it. Thank you so much!! And this is fantastic!!!!
Where better to begin than the most famous parentlock fic of all time? If for some reason you have not read this fic, don’t be put off by the description. Basically, during experiments in cloning, the British government accidentally clones Sherlock. Sherlock insists on raising the baby which means that John becomes a parent as well.
This fic is easily in my top 20. Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Pining, what more could you want??? Sherlock and John go undercover on vacation with a baby as the case involves gay couples and their kids. Takes place post season 3/TAB.
John moves back in with his new baby, Iris. Sherlock can’t help but love both of them. If you haven’t read this parentlock classic yet please go do so immediately.
American AU: John is a kindergarten teacher and one of his students is a Henry Holmes. Henry does not speak in school which leads to several meetings with Henry’s father, Sherlock. Gradually, both Henry and Sherlock start to open up to John.
When Mary’s past catches up with her and she is killed, Sherlock takes care of John and his daughter Violet. They slowly fall into a relationship together and Sherlock experiences a revelation. One of my favorite authors.
Written in first person by John’s teenage daughter Eugenia, this fic is a look into the lives of Eugenia’s unconventional family. My absolute favorite scene is when she goes to the LGBT pride parade with John.
Sherlock and John were married before Sherlock decided to jump off a tall building. John is not doing well and Mycroft offers (manipulates) John something he never thought he wanted: children.
While on his mission to destroy Moriarty’s network, Sherlock meets Moriarty’s son, James, after killing Moran. Sherlock decides to take him in and raise him. John is with Mary and both Sherlock and James have many scars from their pasts. It’s all a bit complicated. (warnings: child abuse, torture, extreme angst)
This fic is the kind of angst that hurts so good and has a beautiful ending to make up for it. Post S3, Sherlock will do anything to make John happy, even if it destroys him. (warnings: infidelity, unhealthy relationships)
Post-Mary: Sherlock devises a plan to get John and his daughter Emily back living at Baker St. John has resisted moving back because Emily needs her own room. Sherlock tries to show John that he can be a good partner and a good influence for Emily. So sweet and heart-warming.
I absolutely love the lyrical writing style of this fic. John and his daughter come to live at 221B and Sherlock does everything he can to make them feel at home.
Sherlock meets John and his son Hamish at a crime scene and comes to stay with them while he recovers from an injury. Hamish and Sherlock have the same intuitive genius minds which leads John to become closer to Sherlock. (warnings: past child abuse, past implied rape, John/Lestrade mentions)
This fic is a series of fluffy oneshots in the lives of Sherlock, John, and their son Hamish. If you need something to make you smile after reading an angsty fic this is definitely for you.
