11:00pm

Sherlock was sat in his arm chair glowering at the fire. John was sat in the chair opposite reading a book, the telly had been switched off earlier because John was tired of his constant commentary.
'Can't we watch anything without you giving your opinion?!'
'It's not my fault they're all idiots John.'

Maybe one day I'll be able to watch TV in my own flat, he thought. Although to be really honest he didn't even mind that much, sometimes it was nice just to sit in companionable silence with Sherlock, they weren't working a case at the moment, although yesterday Lestrade had dropped off a few case files from some cold cases that he thought Sherlock might be interested in. It was this that Sherlock was currently thinking over, and periodically complaining about - as 'the police at the time were idiots' and hadn't recorded anything useful from the scene. Apparently.

'John, you haven't turned a page in your book for almost 10 minutes ,even you don't read that slowly.'
'I know, I'm just enjoying this.' He waved a hand between them.
'This?'
'You know, us, New Year, the crackle of the fire - sentiment.'
'Oh…'

11:30pm

John had red five more pages. Although the last one he had read 5 times and not absorbed it, he kept glancing up at Sherlock who seemed to be studying him, he didn't often try and deduce anything from John, he didn't need to, but currently he was staring intently at him, eyes flitting up and down, searching for information. Well, he wasn't getting any reading done, he might as well make tea. He got up and moved into the kitchen, Sherlock's eyes followed him up but then came back down to rest on the hearth.

As he came back in with the tea John glanced at the clock on the mantel, 11:37.
'Could I have the TV back on now Sherlock? I'd like to watch the Hootenanny.'
'I never said you couldn't have it on John.'
'Okay, let me re-phrase that, I want to watch the Television, without your commentary, thank you.'
'Fine, but Jools Holland is dull'
'It's a tradition'
'Traditions are boring'
'Shut Up and drink your tea.'

11:59pm

John had been quite enjoying the music on the TV and was pleasantly surprised at Sherlock, who was sitting quite still on his chair and making no snide remarks whatsoever. John popped to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of New Years Champaign he'd bought. He got back to the telly as the countdown started.

'10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1.. HAPPY NEW YEARS!

'Happy New Year Sherlock, would you like a glass of bubbly?'
Sherlock stayed silent, that was unusual, he seemed to be avoiding John's gaze now. Well fine, if he was going to be like that. John poured himself a glass of Champaign and set the bottle down on the table. He took a sip and then looked at Sherlock.
'Got any New Year's resolutions? I reckon I've got mine'~
'No. New Year's resolutions are stupid.'
'Mine are 1. Go to the gym, so I'm fitter for running around after you, 2. Post on my blog again, I haven't posted any of our last 4 cases, it's getting less views every day, and 3. Make sure you eat at least once a day.'

Sherlock seemed to consider these for a second. Oh how wonderful John was, he was always a caretaking type, he was a doctor , but how true to himself that all of his New Year's resolutions were not about himself, but were in fact for Sherlock. All of these New Years convention are ridiculous, he thought to himself, as the clock struck midnight people were hugging and kissing, John was drinking Champaign and people were making New Year's resolutions. New Year comes second to Christmas in 'Annoying celebrations that everyone take part in.' Oh, but for John, he supposed he must.

'Okay, I've got one, one New Year's resolution just for you, John. I am going to do one nice thing for you every day. Starting now.'
'Oh Sherlock, you don't have to do that! Don't be ridiculo—'

Sherlock swept across the small space between their chairs and pressed a kiss to John's lips. It was small and chaste and over in a second.

'Happy New Year John.'

Sherlock smiled and stalked off towards his bedroom. John just sat there for a moment, what?! He licked his lips. Sherlock had just kissed him, on the lips, and then just left.

'Sherlock?' he tried to be demanding but as his voice came out as barely a whisper it was not very effective.

'Goodnight John.'