"It's not much but I thought you boys ought to have something nice to wear for the Christmas party," Mrs. Hudson said, handing John the shopping bag. John smiled and thanked her as she left the flat. A moment later a wad of wool smacked Sherlock in the back of the head.
"What was that for?" Sherlock demanded, turning around and picked up the jumper. He held it up for examination. It was… well, it was hideous, plain and simple. A garish green color that Sherlock knew wouldn't look good, covered in what appeared to be, yes, actual light-up fairy lights. A small switch concealed in the right sleeve turned them on and off. He looked up to see what John had gotten.
"Not a word, you," John warned, yanking his sweater on. It was even worse than Sherlock's. John's was an orange-red, with kittenson it. Kittens. In elf hats. Kittens. Sherlock couldn't help it, he just began laughing. John looked so disgruntled in his jumper, a steely look glaring out over the simpering kittens that Sherlock couldn't even bring forth the effort to properly poke fun at it.
"Shove off, you've got to wear yours to," John said, stepping over to where Sherlock was seated on the couch and shoving his jumper into his lap. "Well, go on," John insisted when Sherlock hesitated.
"This is ridiculous," Sherlock muttered as he pulled the sweater on. When his head popped through he could feel his curls sticking up in static-y disarray. John only smirked, running his fingers across Sherlock's hair.
"I dunno, I rather like the look," John laughed, tugging lightly on one curl. Sherlock rolled his eyes, trying to ignore how good John's fingers felt.
"We don't really have to wear them to the party, do we?" Sherlock asked, already knowing what John's answer would be.
"Yes, we really do. Don't give me that look, Mrs. Hudson did something nice for us by getting us something, the least we can do is wear them." John playfully pushed at Sherlock's shoulder, and Sherlock shoved back, just a bit harder. Soon Sherlock had John pinned back against the couch. "On the other hand," John mused, "that sweater would look a lot better on the floor."
