Sherlock growled, manhandling the struggling bulldog puppy into the box. The dog yelped and scampered to the door as the detective tried to fit the glossy red bow around his collar. "Stupid animal, get back here this instant!" Sherlock called after it, not wanting to alert John, but letting his frustration take over.
"Sherlock, are you ready to exchange gifts?" John called from the living room just as the puppy disappeared into the hallway. 'Shit.' Thought Sherlock privately, holding his breath as he waited for all hell to break loose.
"Woah, who's this?" He heard as the puppy bounded into the living room. Sherlock groaned and stood up, brushing off his clothes and making his way from his bedroom to face John.
He was greeted by the sight of his gift lapping at his flatmate's face delightedly. John giggled rather adorably and picked up the little sandy coloured dog next to him on the sofa. "You're gorgeous you are!" John cooed stupidly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat next to his friend.
"He was my gift to you. Apparently dogs don't like being wrapped up..." He shrugged, reaching out a hand to fondle the puppy's ears affectionately.
"He's wonderful, thank you Sherlock, I never expected anything like this!" John said, "Does he have a name?"
"I thought I would leave that privilege to you John." Sherlock replied, smiling as his friend launched himself forwards into a tight, unexpected hug. The detective rested his chin on John's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him awkwardly. John pulled back from the hug and gave Sherlock a quick peck on the cheek. Wait...what?
The doctor stared, horrified as realization dawned on his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that" He said hurriedly, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, his face flushing in embarrassment.
"...OK." Sherlock said carefully, blinking rapidly and staring fixedly at a spot on the wall. He tried desperately to shake the feeling of the perfect softness of the doctor's lips brushing his skin, and how much he wanted it to happen again. John shook his head and turned his attention to the puppy.
"How about Gladstone?" John said suddenly, diffusing the tension. Sherlock snapped out of his reverie and smiled, his legs going all wobbly as the doctor grinned back.
"Gladstone sounds perfect" He managed.
"Aaah, we may have a problem..." John murmured, glancing nervously towards his bedroom upstairs. Sherlock was too busy processing this new information and pondering what lay underneath the doctor's hideous Christmas jumper to pay attention.
"Hmmm?" He asked, 'if John moves to the left I think I can see his nipples through the wool...'
"Well, let's just say my gift may not be compatible with your gift..." He trailed off. "Be right back" John called, bounding up the stairs to his room. Sherlock shrugged at the little puppy Gladstone, and waited for John to return.
His flatmate thundered down the stairs and trotted into the living room covered in weeping scratches with his face all bloodied and torn up. He clutched a mewing bundle in his arms and held the creature as far away from his body as he could. The lithe black cat hissed venomously at John and leapt from his arms and into the detective's lap. Sherlock jumped at the spitting ball of rage being thrown at him, but his face softened as the cat calmed down considerably and began purring and rubbing itself against his stomach.
John sighed and flopped onto the sofa. "Merry Christmas" He gasped, rubbing a hand over his face and frowning as it came away dotted with blood.
"Thank you John, she's lovely, am I to name her too?"
"Sure" The doctor grinned, sighing as he inspected his shredded skin. After some thought the detective smiled secretly to himself.
"Aurora" He said, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. John looked up questioningly. "As in, Aurora Borealis" Sherlock clarified. John nodded, stroking the cat carefully. Aurora stayed still, settling into Sherlock's lap and going to sleep. "See how the oily sheen on her coat resembles the Northern Lights John" He said, quite fixated with the little creature of death curled around his crotch.
John nodded, happy that his friend liked his gift, grinning at Gladstone lying on his back near the fire on the hearth, toasting his belly. Sherlock looked up, noting the blood weeping from the wounds on his doctor's face. "Let me help you" He said, displacing the cat on one of the sofa cushions and leading John into the kitchen by the hand.
"Are you sure they won't fight?" John asked worriedly.
"Quite sure, Aurora would never do such a thing." Sherlock sniffed.
"Sherlock, you've barely known that demon of a cat for five minutes and already you've sussed out its personality?" John asked in wonder, barely noticing the way Sherlock carefully brushed his knuckles with his thumb as they reached the kitchen counter.
"Of course John, don't tell me you underestimated me?" The detective answered, flashing John that adorable lop-sided smile of his. John laughed and hopped up onto the worktop as Sherlock instructed so that he was at eye level with the taller man. "Stay there and don't move" The detective ordered, reaching into the top cupboard for the well used first aid kit.
John watched as Sherlock soaked some gauze in warm water and held it carefully to the doctor's cheek, gently swabbing the blood and occasionally grazing John's warm cheek with his fingertips. "You're rather good at this" John commented, trying to hide the fact that he was rather turned on by Sherlock playing doctor to him. The detective said nothing, smiling to himself absently and tending to his friend.
The detective paused, letting the gauze fall from his fingers, and stroked John's cheek gently with his long pale fingers. John closed his eyes at Sherlock's perfect, healing touch. The taller man seemed to notice what he was doing suddenly, clearing his throat and moving away from him. "There." Sherlock said matter-of-factly, binning the gauze and turning away from John to lean on the counter for support.
"Sherlock I-" John began, but heard the same gruff hiccup of contentment as the other man. They both turned to look at their animal counterparts in the living room, curled around each other comfortably in front of the fire. "What the..." John trailed off, following Sherlock over to the sofa where he sat observing the animals thoughtfully.
"Interesting... Although nature dictates that they should be deterred by the other, they seem to rebel against the stereotype." Sherlock mused "It doesn't make sense, their personalities are distinctly incompatible, and yet, they seem to tolerate each other, one may even go as far as to say, like each other. Coexisting in their environment with perfect harmony...It is most irregular, almost like-"
"Like yin and yang." John finished, sitting beside his friend, close enough so that their thighs touched. "But Sherlock, doesn't that remind you of anyone?" John prompted.
The detective looked confused for a moment. "They're like us John." The doctor nodded.
"Perfectly suited to their environment and each other. An irregular pairing in a judgemental and narcissistic world, pieces of an unsolved puzzle, fitting together to make a clear and obvious picture"
"...yin and yang" Sherlock repeated, his gaze locking with John's intimately.
Gladstone yawned and flopped over onto his stomach, nuzzling the cat, Aurora, and cuddling into her. The cat flicked her tail and poked out her little pink tongue to lick the puppy on the nose. Sherlock blushed, pressing his lips together.
John looked up, realizing for the first time the sprig of mistletoe that hung above them on the light fitting. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in his trademark 'problem?' look.
John took a leap, touching Sherlock's hand and taking it in his own. The detective smiled and edged closer to John. He let his other hand rest on the doctor's thigh and drifted naturally towards him. "Merry Christmas John" He whispered. Then Sherlock leant down and kissed his friend full on the lips. John sighed against Sherlock's beautifully soft lips moving against his own with a slow, undemanding pressure. He now knew how long he had needed this to happen. He kissed the detective back hesitantly at first, familiarising himself with the sensation of kissing the other man. The detective leaned into him, a feint rumble of pleasure stirring in the back of his throat as John ran his tongue along his bottom lip and slipped it into Sherlock's mouth, touching their tongues and placing his hand on Sherlock's hip, rubbing the patch of bare skin under his shirt with his fingertips. The detective raised a hand to tangle it in John's hair, massaging his scalp while at the same time biting his bottom lip softly. John sucked a breath at how brilliant Sherlock's teeth felt as they nibbled the sensitive skin on his bottom lip maddeningly. Sherlock placed sweet little kisses on his lips in quick succession as his fingers ghosted over John's jaw, each one lingering a little longer than the last until they began snogging passionately again, sucking pleasantly at the other's lips until they became red and raw with the pressure.
Sherlock pulled back unexpectedly, taking John's face in his hands and staring into his eyes meaningfully "You are the yin to my yang John Watson" He said quietly, stroking the doctor's face with his thumb.
"The perfect balance of Holmes and Watson" John chuckled. "Now get over here and kiss me again genius"
By the dying fire Gladstone raised his head and licked Aurora delicately, snuffling her fur and resting his head on her slender back. Above them the baubles on the Christmas tree reflected the scene of perfect harmony in 221B Baker Street, sparked with the twinkling of the fairy lights strung around the mantle, and the soft white flakes of snow which had begun to fall outside.
Merry Christmas Everyone
xxx