December 26:th - Boxing Day
John woke up to silence, no violin screeching and no strange explosions, which in itself was just a little bit troubling. Softly moving the sleepy (or something?) cloak away from his shoulder, he sat up in bed. Stephen had stayed the night once more, and clearly he was still here. The cloak enjoyed sleeping in more than its sorcerer did, apparently.
"You don't happen to know where Stephen is?" he asked the Cloak, which merely bobbed a nod with its collar, flickering towards the bedroom door. John got dressed and walked downstairs, finding the cloak draped over the kitchen chair his boyfriend sat in. The carpet lay on the floor, smoothly avoiding anything which might fall on it.
Sherlock and Stephen sat by the kitchen table together, seemingly performing an experiment of some kind. When John came closer, he saw that they were in fact dissecting a brain. That was a bit gruesome, of course, but they both seemed facinated. John stepped closer, to give Stephen a kiss, when he suddenly hd to stop.
Was that really Stephen? They were incredibly alike. He blinked, and the moment passed. It was clearly Stephen in his blue robes and with the cloak resting on his chair, currently saying in that deep, alluring voice of his "this is actually a facinating perspective to take on neuroscience!"
The clean-shaven man looked up with a frown upon noting that they were watched, asking somewhat brusquely "John? What is it?" while the one with a small goatee frowned more deeply, looking very concerned, making out to reach out a hand in John's direction, but then realising he wore gloves full of brain substance and ceasing the motion. "John? Is everything alright?"
"Yes" John walked up and kissed Stephen on the nose. "I just understand Mrs Hudson's comment from a few days ago now. You two really are so alike... I couldn't tell you apart for a moment there!"
Two identical, factual comments replied to him immediately. "Statistically, there's seven people in the world who shares identical traits with you". Sherlock went back to poking at the brain. "It happens, unlikely as it might seem" Stephen added, while looking back on what they were doing, removing his gloves.
"There's a ten procent chance of meeting one of them in your lifetime" Sherlock inserted dryly. Stephen chuckled, rising, gloves now discarded safely, with far more care for hygiene than Sherlock had ever had. "I do not know what the statistics for dating the room-mate of one are, but sooner or later, in some dimension, everything happens" Stephen continued, putting an arm around John's waist.
"Well, neither one of you are allowed to change your style without previous notice!" John ordered playfully. "You" he leaned closer to Strange "are not allowed to shave, nor change your robes without telling me, and you" he turned to Sherlock "cannot cut your hair, ever". He smiled as Stephen smirked and Sherlock pretended not to smirk in a very similar fashion.
"Shall we make breakfast?" Stephen changed the subject, still smiling. "Perhaps there shouldn't be brain substance in the kitchen, actually. Do you want to cook at my place instead?" As his question was recieved with a smile, he grinned and opened a portal, letting John go along first. Laughing, John let his boyfriend guide him into the New York Sanctum, spending the next several hours cooking together in a mercifully clean kitchen and letting Stephen show him around the very interesting house. It was a perfect day.
This is the last regular installment of this calendar - but there will be a new year's eve special/epilogue as well by new year's eve!
I do not own anything you recognise - I don't even know where some of it is from!
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To the guest irene: thank you very much! Well, John is getting more positive now that he has realised they might work. He is just in love really. :) I am glad you liked my other Strange story as well - there's a baby Strange story too, which will continue after these two have been finished! I do hope you like the ending (there is an epilogue to come still!)