Once showered, John emerges to find clothes, putting on the pair of jeans that Sherlock packed for him, and then he frowns a little. Pulling out a t-shirt that says 'Army' across the front, he puts it on, and then looks at the rest of his clothes. "Sherlock..." he says in a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You packed me a t-shirt and a sweatshirt?" he asks in surprise as he looks at the detective, pulling out a sweatshirt he probably hasn't worn in five years. It's comfortable and warm, but he prefers his jumpers and button-ups for the most part.
Looking rather innocent as he pulls out his own clothes, Sherlock looks over at John. "I thought you might be more comfortable in that. There's a jumper in there too if you insist on wearing it." He says with a little bit of a distaste to his tone. About then is when he slips out of his pajama bottoms and into a pair of jeans - jeans! - that are well-fitting and probably designer in their own right. They're not too tight, having a faded stonewash type look to them, and they are also in excellent condition. The detective appears rather nonchalant as he pulls them on and fastens them, then looks into his bag for a moment before pulling out a button-up that John has also never seen before. It's older, less posh than what he usually wears, but the fabric is a medium green that sets off his eyes rather well. He slips it on, tucking it into his jeans and rolling the arms up slowly after buttoning it.
Through all of this, John just stares a little, admiring the fit of the jeans and licking his lips for a few moments. "Bloody hell, Sherlock. Where have you been hiding those clothes?" He asks as he slips his sweatshirt on and stands up, moving over to put his hand against Sherlock's arm, feeling the fabric of the shirt curiously. "Never thought I'd see you in jeans.." he says as he looks down at those long legs now clad in denim.
"I thought you may appreciate it." Sherlock says as he looks at John for a few moments. "As I appreciate you in more casual clothes. Your normal clothes hide your physique, which is still quite impressive." he notes, then he smirks. "And the bruise I gave you is still hidden.." he smirks a little. "Mostly." he says as he runs one long finger along the edge of the t-shirt's collar, a slight bit of the bruise visible if you're really looking for it.
While John is still annoyed at Sherlock for the whole biting thing, he can't say some part of him likes the mark, mostly that it's there and only he and Sherlock know it's there, or what it might signify. Reaching up, the doctor puts his hand on the back of the younger man's neck, pulling him down closer to him. "Glad you appreciate my physique." He says with a slight smirk, sighing a little. "I almost wish we could stay here longer, not because of your family, I don't want to be with them longer. But because you're different here. I know this.. honeymoon period we seem to be having, will be gone when we get to Baker Street. And I think I'll miss it a little." he says with a smile, before he closes the gap between them and gives the detective a deep kiss, not pressing for more, mostly just taking his time to re-learn the feel of Sherlock's lips, of their tongues sliding together, the taste of the coffee lingering on his lips.
When they finally break apart, Sherlock watches his doctor, uncertain and trying to figure him out. 'Honeymoon period' is what he said, implying that the two days have been idyllic and unusual. That bothers him because he knows some things will change back at Baker Street, mainly him having more things to occupy his mind, but he isn't sure why that would change how they act toward eachother. And that is where the detective gets confused. he doesn't want to say anything, not wanting to show his ignorance in this matter even though he knows it's great. he just doesn't understand and that makes him a little angry.
"What is it, Sherlock?" John asks, seeing how intense the detective looks, lifting his hand to stroke his cheek lightly. "I can't read minds like you do.. you have to tell me what you're thinking, or I can't help." he points out, dropping his hand away and shifting back a little, crossing his arms over his chest.
Still confused, Sherlock lets out a slightly frustrated sigh. "I don't understand." he says as he looks at John. "Why do you insist on thinking that this is somehow.. temporary? You seem to think that when we go back to Baker Street, everything that has happened here will disappear." he says, frustrated and a little upset. "This is not a dream, it is not something that will go away, I am not going to suddenly get bored with you when you have occupied my thoughts for nearly three years. You nearly have your own wing in my mind palace, John. I cannot delete anything when it comes to you. I tried once, when I was taking down Moriarty's web, and my feelings for you were particularly distracting." he says as he watches the small doctor in front of him. "I couldn't do it." He tries to explain to John, grabbing his upper arms as he tries to get him to see. But as always he's not good with expressing or understand emotions.
A little startled by the man's outburst, John blinks owlishly up at Sherlock for a few moments, before he relaxes a little. "Sherlock. You remember when you first came back.. I would sometimes come rushing back into the room, just to make sure it wasn't a dream, that you were real?" For a moment he pauses and waits for Sherlock to nod, then he takes a deep breath. "This is the same. I just can't believe it's real, yet. It seems too much like a dream. Here, in this place, it's not real. It's like a fairy land or something. At least that's how it feels to me. But when we leave here, the spell may be broken. Baker Street is our home. I hope that things don't change as drastically as I am afraid they will. And there's nothing you can say or do, it's just something that I have to experience. Like checking your pulse or making sure you're still there, still real." John explains as he looks at Sherlock, "Come on, then. Best not to keep your mother waiting." he says, lifting his head to give Sherlock another kiss.
Taking that all in for a few moments, the detective nods a little for a few moments. "I understand, John." He reassures, before he goes and collects the presents he hid in his bag, adding them to the bag that John already had before he picks it up. "If we must. Lets go then." he says before he turns and strides out.
As always, that leaves John behind to catch up, clumsily slipping into some socks before he half-runs after the long-legged man, smirking a little as he comes up behind him. "I like your arse in those jeans." he says with a little grin as he glances at the other man, feeling quite smug with himself when Sherlock's step falters just a little. To anyone else it would be undetectable, but John has known the younger man long enough to be able to tell when something catches him off-guard. So he just chuckles a little, slipping his hands into the pockets of his own jeans to keep them off of the man beside him.
That was not something that Sherlock expected his flatmate to say in the middle of the hallway, hence the slight hitch in his step as he keeps walking. And if he didn't know better, he'd swear he felt heat in his cheeks but there is no way that he could be blushing. Not even a little. Hoping that John doesn't notice, he just keeps walking, leading John down to one of the sitting rooms where the tree is set up with presents beneath it, dropping his bag off with the rest before he walks over to a bar, making himself and John a cup of tea before wandering over to stand by one of the sofa's, some of the other family there already and talking amongst themselves.
Highly amused and feeling rather good about himself, John accepts the tea from Sherlock, smirking as he looks around, and glad to see that he's not underdressed, half of the others are in their pajamas still or something similar to what he and Sherlock are wearing, so he wonders if that is the reason Sherlock chose these particular clothes. Taking the tea when it's brought over, John takes a sip and then he chuckles a little.
"You know this means you have no excuse not to make tea, now, Sherlock."