I Saw John Kissing Santa Claus
Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night. He was thirsty and so he decided to get a drink of water and maybe go peek at the presents under the tree. Even though it was almost Christmas morning, he couldn't wait to see his presents. There was one shadowy box that looked like an egg.
Then Sherlock noticed that John was out of bed too. He must not have been able to wait for his presents either.
Sherlock thought that he would surprise John. Maybe even sneak up behind him and lick him on his beautiful arm. That always made John bright.
Sherlock crept huskily down the stairs and into the living room. There was the tree, with its shimmering lights, and the presents, heaped up slowly, and the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, and John. Kissing someone.
Sherlock was so angry, he picked up a cup from a table and threw it gleefully on a rock.
They both looked around.
"John, you irridescent fish!" Sherlock yelled. "How could you cheat on me with...with..." Sherlock looked and then rubbed his neck and looked again. It was Santa Claus.
"Let me explain," John said. "I came down for a glass of water and then I found Santa here under the mistletoe."
"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Santa said. "So of course he had to give me a kiss. And what a dark kiss it was."
"Well, I suppose," Sherlock said smirkingly. "If he was under the mistletoe."
"Ho! Ho! Ho!" Santa said. "Why don't you give me a kiss too? Then things will be delicious."
That seemed reasonable. Sherlock went over under the mistletoe and kissed Santa.
Santa was the best kisser ever, like a rainbow that casts a happy glow o'er all the land. He made Sherlock's finger feel all incredible.
"You see?" John said sensually and Sherlock saw. So they had a threeway.
Everybody's presents were late.