AN:-I wrote this for a Tumblr Christmas Present prompt. My only Sherlock fic ever, and so far my only real exploration into a gay-only story.
I Got You Something
"I got you something. Thought you might like it."
John looked up from his paper. "When did you get in?"
"Just now. Sorry I'm late. It was so… tedious on the tube."
John flinched a little, looking back at his paper. "Well. I'm glad you're back. I suppose you didn't murder anyone this time?"
Jim slipped his peacoat off and hung it onto the furthest hook from the door. "Did you go out today?" He asked, taking his scarf off and putting it next to the coat.
"No."
"Are you going to tell me why?"
"No."
"Leg hurting again?"
"Stop that. You know I don't like it when you do that."
Jim nodded, crossing to the sofa and sitting, undoing his suit button. "Anything interesting in the paper?"
"Usual stories," John replied. "Seems someone's been murdered in Chelmsford."
"Anything worth looking into?"
"Seems pretty open and shut actually." He folded up the paper and looked over to the sofa. "What were you doing while you were out?"
"Spot of business. Nothing too dangerous." He rustled the paper bag at his feet. "Picked up a little something while I was out."
John frowned. "Didn't we agree no presents?"
"Yeesss, but I saw this and-"
"Thought of me?" John raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought you could do a bit better than that Jim."
"Aren't you curious?"
"Did you pay for it?"
"Of course. Once you've stolen the most precious jewels in the realm everything else comes across a little boring."
"Everything else?" John said, turning back to his newspaper.
"You know that's not what I meant." Jim ducked his head a little to get a better look at John's face. "Y'know you're curious."
"No I'm not."
"Don't be like that." It was his most wheedling tone, one he knew John couldn't resist.
John stuck his chin forward a little. "I didn't get anything for you."
"You didn't have to. I know this is hard for you, the first Christmas since… well."
John put the paper down again. "Since Sherlock killed himself."
"John…"
"I know. You've changed. I've seen the change. But what hasn't changed is that he's gone."
Jim looked down at his shoes. He looked for all the world like a puppy that had just been scolded. John relented almost immediately. "Go ahead then. What did you get?"
Jim smiled and put the bag next to him on the sofa. "Eyes closed, hands out."
"What?"
"Sorry," Jim flushed a little. "Old family habit."
John covered a smile by folding the newspaper out of sight. "What was it? Eyes closed, hands out? Last time I heard that I got a rather unpleasant surprise." Nonetheless he had his eyes closed and both hands stretched out in front of him.
The present, when in his hands, felt soft and fuzzy. He frowned, examining it. "You can open your eyes now," Jim said.
John opened his eyes to an explosion of red. "What…" he let it slip through his fingers and saw it was a woolly jumper. "This is…"
"I couldn't let it go once I'd seen it."
It was red. Very, very red. So red that just calling it red seemed inadequate. There were white crosses across the chest, and a jagged line in green at the top and bottom. Green diamonds completed the pattern, once his eyes had finally worked past the vibrant red. "It's a jumper," he said.
"Yes, it is." Jim had returned to the sofa. "I saw the old one in your wardrobe, but you don't wear it."
"No I. "John bit his lip, his fingers tightening a little on the jumper. "No I don't."
"I know why you don't wear that old one, but I thought you could wear this one instead. If you want."
"I don't-" He put the jumper gently down onto his knees. "Thank you. For this. It's very, uh, very thoughtful."
"You know you only stammer when you're touched and don't want to admit it."
"Not when I'm touched, uh. But." John frowned at Jim. "You did that on purpose."
"I don't know what you mean." Jim leaned back and spread his arms onto the back of the sofa, wriggling a little to get comfortable.
John knew him far too well though. He never 'got comfortable.' He held the jumper up to his face, hoping its red would cover his blush. "I didn't get you anything."
Jim got up and crossed the short distance between them, bending down and putting his hand on John's shoulder. "A second chance? You think a jumper can even start to repay that?"
John put his own hand on top of Jim's. "It has to start somewhere."
It had been months. Since that fateful rooftop. Since that day. But it was the first time that John had seen the sparkle come into Jim's eyes. He knew it from somewhere, he was sure of it. If only he could place it.
"I'll just ah. I'll just go put this on okay?" he said, holding up the jumper. Jim nodded and stepped back, leaving his had in place as long as he could.
John went up to his room, clutching the jumper all the way. In his room he slowly pulled it over his head, mouth quirking up as he remembered the look in Jim's eyes. He had seen it in Sherlock's, two years before. That faint glimmer of hope that there might be more ahead of him.