This might be the closest I will ever get to writing smut, and, what with John's words in chapter 12, non-con. Also, this chapter contains no sex or in any way questionable consent. It is all shameless "grown men cuddling affectionately" material. All recognisable content belongs to its respective owners.
TapTap
It was early Christmas morning when John woke, surrounded, as it felt, by sleepy Consulting Detective in seemingly every direction. "Morning!" He greeted him gruffly, shifting a little bit so that he could fully breathe. "Do you plan on cuddling me all day, or do you want to exchange gifts?" he inquired in a softer voice, smiling.
"Cuddling is my gift for you" Sherlock said, resting his head on John's chest. "Proper cuddling. Just as you'd like it, for as long as you want to. No restrictions". He ran a hand down Johns side, just to the end of his ribs, then back up again. "Just cuddling, though. And I did get you a... socially acceptable gift, as well".
"Sherlock..." John said doubtfully, but the taller man merely shook his head, assuring him "I want you to". John looked into his eyes, searching them closely, then somewhat doubtfully ran a hand across his shoulders, further from the neck than he ever normally did. Sherlock shivered a little, but there was no sounds of discomfort, and his genius didn't tense up. John decided that he would see this gift simply for what it was, and accept it for that, too. And enjoy it for the rare treat that it was to him.
"Alright" he simply stated, stroking the soft hair of the man who had somehow captured his heart "shall we start with those socially acceptable gifts first?" He suggested, his mind going over the possibilities of a completely unhindered cuddling session excitedly. He wanted to saviour that. When Sherlock nodded, John let him go to bend over the edge of the bed, grabbing three neat little packages.
When he turned over to face him again, Sherlock had done the same, obviously, and four packages of very different sizes and appearances were waiting for him. John handed one of his packages over to Sherlock and let the genius choose one to give to him. He choose a large, gleefully christmas-wrapped one and nudged it over.
They both awaited the other to start, and John finally did it, revealing a handknitted angora jumper of a sky-blue that no doubt went perfectly with his eyes. Smiling widely, he bent forward to give Sherlock a soft, quick, thank-you kiss. Sherlock smiled brilliantly in turn and unwrapped his own gift, which turned out to be silver cufflinks in the form of old-fashion magnifiers.
Smiling just as widely and thanking him warmly, Sherlock gave John a kiss in turn and handed him his next gift. They continued in this way, also unwrapping, on Sherlock's part; a new scarf and a book on bees, and as far as John went, a suit more expensive than any he had ever owned, a year's prenumeration on all the medical journals he felt was worthwhile to read, and lastly, a folder full of sheets with notes, all songs for the violin, composed by Sherlock just for him. He smiled wider than anything for those, and gave Sherlock a somewhat less polite kiss.
John preceeded to sit up and straddle the detective, who no longer wore shirts to bed, running his hands eagerly over his pale chest. Sherlock placed his hands on John's hips, knowing full well that his doctor much preferred touching if it was reciprocated, wanted it to feel fully consensual even if it was innocent, and he respected him for that.
John smiled as he felt Sherlock touch him in turn, however slightly that it was, running his hands down his sides, taking full advantage of this opportunity to finally get to know the body of his partner since over a year now. He took his time, running his hands gently and steadily across the somewhat still figure underneath him, exploring every inch of Sherlock's chest and abdomen, adding a few kisses for good measure.
Sherlock flinched the first time John kissed his skin, as if he automatically assumed it was something else, and John knew then that it took a lot of effort for him to attempt to enjoy this, but then he had known that already. He suspected that Sherlock had undergone hours of mental preparations to do this so nicely. He was grateful for it. Acceptance or not, touching a rigid, unwilling Sherlock had absolutely no charm, while this was purely heavenly. Then again, he was positive his very own genius knew that.
They spent a long time just touching sedately and spooning, before Sherlock rolled over to let John explore his back. This time, he was less relaxed, but one or two low sounds of enjoyment as John teased out his strong back and shoulder muscles was enough to mollify the doctor on this score.
Eventually they lay facing each other again, and Sherlock gently guided John to lie on his back this time, whispering a "happy Christmas" in his ear, accompanied by a just as soft "I love you". It was merely a taste of what they might eventually enjoy together, but it was exhilarating, John decided as he finally gave up control over their little encounter and let Sherlock kiss down his abdomen.
