Better Than First Aid

One: Better Than First Aid

"John,"

"Yep?" 

"I, uh... I cut my finger." 

"Wha –" 

John automatically stopped cooking and turned around to face Sherlock who was standing behind him.

He was absolutely right. He shouldn't have let the detective help him with the cooking and the chopping of the tomatoes for the omelet he was making. He shouldn't have agreed no matter how much Sherlock insisted.

John sighs worriedly, wiping his hands with a clean cloth before leading Sherlock toward the kitchen table. The detective quietly followed, both hands behind his back, bashfully hiding his wounded finger. 

"I told you, chopping tomatoes was not your forte, Sherlock Holmes." John reached out a hand to Sherlock, "Show me." 

Sherlock shakes his head and refused to show John his wounded finger, "I'm fine, John. It's just a little cut." 

John wriggled his fingers as if telling Sherlock to hurry up, "Come on." 

Sherlock grunted and shook his head again. He didn't want John to see his wound, simply because it was no big deal and he can take care of it. But the doctor insisted. Sherlock hesitated at first, but he eventually gave in when John glared at him. 

The doctor held his hand and mouthed an "Oh, my God!" when he saw how much blood was gushing out of Sherlock's finger. 

"Shit!" John immediately grabbed Sherlock by the arm and lead him to the kitchen sink. There, the doctor quickly folded Sherlock's shirt's sleeve to avoid it from getting wet and turned the faucet on to wash his finger. 

As the stream of water ran down Sherlock's hand, the doctor also squeezed his finger, applying just enough force to let the blood come out. 

After a moment, it stopped... and John was relieved. He gently touched the skin that protruded from the detective's wounded finger and sighed. 

Sherlock looked at John with admiration, but he didn't see it since he was too busy staring at his poor boyfriend's finger. 

After a moment, the detective cleared his throat and planted a kiss on John's forehead, "Thank you, John." 

"Hmm," John suddenly grabbed him by the neck and pinched his nose gently with his free hand, "Why didn't you tell me that the cut was deep, Sherlock Holmes?" 

Sherlock wrinkled his nose, "No, it's not. You're just exaggerating."

John inched closer, releasing the detective's adorable nose and moving his hand down to cup his chin. "Yes, darling, it is. And I am not exaggerating. Now move your very love arse and go sit there..." John pointed the long couch before giving Sherlock a soft but firm kiss on the lips, "...I'll go get the first aid kit, okay?" 

"Hmm," Sherlock nods, "But I want more." He pointed a finger (not the wounded one) on his lips.

John chuckled, "I will give you more if you go and sit your arse down..." 

Sherlock smiles, "Hmm, 'kay." He nods and obeys his boyfriend's command.