John returned from the store to find Sherlock in the exact place he had left him. Sitting at his microscope.
"Sherlock. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Come on, I bought eggnog. Can we at least try to relax without worrying about a case?"
Sherlock took in a prolonged deep breathe and looked up at John. "John, simply because it is Christmas, it does not mean that I can just stop everything I am doing."
He went back to his microscope for a second then suddenly got up, stomped over to the couch, and plopped himself down.
"See," he folded his arms across his stomach.
"I'm relaxing. Now, could you get me my laptop?"
John sighed, annoyed.
"What?"
"Nothing. I just thought that maybe this year we could actually have a normal Christmas..."
"What? And this-" he made a frantic gesture to the air with his hands "isn't normal?"
"No Sherlock, this isn't normal."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. John ignored it and continued.
"Normal is sitting by the telly, drinking eggnog and watching Christmas specials."
"Hmmmm" he scrunched his nose. "Sounds boring." He got up from the couch again, grabbed his violin and then sat back down. He began playing "Silent Night".
John went into the kitchen then came back a few minutes later with two cups of warm eggnog.
When John returned Sherlock was standing at the window with his violin. He watched as Sherlock balanced the instrument. His long, slender fingers playing as music filled the flat. John couldn't help but smile at his unaware flatmate. His heart thumped to the rhythm of Sherlock's playing.
"I know you're there, John." Sherlock said suddenly, braking John away from his trance.
John opened his mouth to say something but was lost for words. He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I've got your eggnog." He said, vaguely gesturing to the mugs he held in his hands although Sherlock's back was facing him.
Sherlock stopped playing abruptly and turned towards John. "Thank you..." He said with a warm smile as he took the mug from John. Their fingers brushed during the exchange and John felt his heart skip a beat. John's eyes met Sherlock's. He could see Sherlock's pupils dilate. Or was it just the lighting? Perhaps it was just his imagination.
"John, I-" Sherlock's mouth gaped, not quite sure what he was about to say. John smiled, encouraging him to go on with what he was about to say. Whatever it was.
"So, what's the plan?"
"Plan?" John inquired.
"Yeah, are we just going to watch telly or what?"
"Actually, I was hoping to watch 'It's A Wonderful Life', if you're interested."
Sherlock hesitated for a second. "Yeah, why not?"
John smiled and quickly went to fetch the DVD.
*It's A Wonderful Life playing on TV*
"George Bailey, I'll love you till the day I die."
John smiled. As a young Mary whispers in the love of her life's bad ear, he thinks about Sherlock. Why does this remind him of Sherlock? Suddenly he notices that he and Sherlock are sitting incredibly close to one another. Sherlock scoffs at the screen.
"You can't be serious, John. This movie is ludicrous."
"This movie is a classic." John nudges Sherlock's shoulder in annoyance. "Could you just give it a chance? Its really great."
"Fine."He says as he accidentally brushes his hand against John's leg. All of the sudden John is unable to pay attention to the movie.
As the credits roll they sit in silence.
"I admit you were right, John. That movie was actually quite decent." Sherlock said.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"You heard me. I won't say it again." John chuckled as he turned to face him.
When he looked into Sherlock's eyes he felt like he could discover all the answers to the universe. Like the ocean on a starry night. Without warning, Sherlock's pupils seemed to dilate again. John's glance lowered to Sherlock's perfect Cupid's bow mouth.
He hadn't realized how close their faces were to eachother. He wasn't thinking when their lips were so close they practically brushed against eachother. He didn't care. All he could think about in that moment was how much he wanted those full, soft, lips pressed against his own. So John leaned forward, and his lips met Sherlock's. It was a simple, sweet kiss at first, but it deepened into a passionate mess of pure longing. For so long John had kept all his feelings inside. No more. He was kissing Sherlock Holmes and it was pretty bloody fantastic.
They pulled away and just breathed in each other's air. Forehead against forehead.
"Merry Christmas, Dr. Watson." Sherlock whispered into John's neck. It sent shivers down John's back. John met his eyes again and smiled.
"And a happy new year."