Here's a festive little drabble to get me in the mood for Christmas. I apologize for the lack of updates recently. For those of you who aren't reading "Out of my Head", I'll summarize - I work in a collectible toy store. This time of year is hell on earth for me. I barely have time to do anything necessary like eating and peeing, so writing's kind of a luxury. I'm definitely not giving up on these drabbles, but for the next few weeks they might be a bit sparse. I apologise!
Sherlock must have been more exhausted than anyone realised, because it was nearly ten in the morning and he was still asleep. John decided to take advantage of his flatmate's unprecedented lie-in by hanging the decorations without a soundtrack of sarcastic grumbling.
Humming The Carol of the Bells, he hung a string of fairy lights and a fake evergreen garland from the mantle. He set a tiny tree up on the desk, draped more lights around the doorway to the kitchen. In a fit of glee he placed a Santa hat on top of the skull. It seemed to grin at him in approval.
The flat was nearly transformed into a winter wonderland when Sherlock sauntered into the kitchen, curls mussed with sleep.
"Really, John? I didn't take you for the festive type."
"Christmas was always… a bit stressful when I was younger. My parents would fight, Harry would drink, it would end with screaming fits and slamming doors. It got to the point where we just stopped celebrating. I thought it would be nice to start over, start some new traditions."
Sherlock's face softened slightly. He'd make sure John had the best Christmas possible.
"You forgot one thing though – where's the mistletoe?"
John smirked and took aim, hitting Sherlock square in his ridiculously plush arse with an unbreakable plastic bauble.