All I Want For Christmas Is You

AN: I had to listen to Christmas music in June for this, so be happy you lil shits. Just some Johnlock fluff! Enjoy and please review! :D

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"Don't we know anyone else?" Sherlock asked as he slid the resin up and down his bow, watching John fiddle with papers sat on the desk.

"Nope." Was the short reply, and John smiled despite this. Christmas was such a hassle. You had to buy presents and have sociable interactions with other intelligent life forms. Sherlock didn't see the purpose in having a party for the holiday, they weren't religious. Sherlock often questioned the true meaning of Christmas in the modern days. Eventually the quests arrived and he was forced to communicate. Having simple, dull conversations with Molly and Mrs. Hudson about snow and lights and sweets. He pulled John into the kitchen to complain, to get away. 

"Can't you at least pretend you're enjoying this?" John pleaded, lightly spiked eggnog in a festive, green mug. Sherlock sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. There was snickering coming from the room, Lastrade, hiding his smirk in his mug. Sherlock looked over at them, eyes flickering in between the group. He'd just remembered that someone had invited Donovan, and immediately grew more worried of the situation. 

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, hand on his hip. 

"Mistletoe..." John mumbled, sipping his drink. Sherlock looked up, huffing even more like a hormone-crazed teenager and glared at an almost cackling Srgt. Donovan. 

"Go on then, Sherlock." She teased, gesturing to the greenery dangling above him. John blushed mildly, carving holes into his shoes with his eyes. "It's just a tradition."

"It's an illogical tradition." Sherlock said as he crossed his arms, John still refusing to make eye contact with anyone. 

"Aw, c'mon, Sherlock!" Lastrade said with a Cheshire grin, patting his back. "Open up! Have a little fun!" 

'You call kissing someone I have no romantic attachment to whatsoever fun?" He barked. John looked up this time, eyebrows furrowed. The flat grew coldly silent, and Sherlock felt violated for some reason. 

"Well," Molly thankfully interrupted. "Why don't we open presents?" There were various agreements, and Sherlock just snagged his violin and walked away to his bedroom, slamming the door.

Lastrade walked up to John slowly. "What's his problem?"

"I- I don't know." John replied, staring at the closed door. Greg smirked, dropping it and nudging his arm.

"John, just a bit of friendly advice, standing here won't do you any good." He stepped away, John staring at him with wide eyes. 

"Las- We're not-"

"Can you stop being a prat for five minutes and go talk to the bloody man? He practically swoons whenever he looks at you. Look, just- go talk to him." Greg nodded at him, walking away. John was left standing still, body stiff. What would he say? What would Sherlock say? He knocked, not getting a response. 

"Sherlock, please." There was shifting in the room, and Sherlock mumbled an 'okay'. He opened the door, stepping in and standing silently next to his bed. 

"John, i assume you're here to talk about my remark of no romantic attachment and I will have you know-" 

"Shut up." John said, catching Sherlock off guard. "Just stop speaking for five fucking minutes." Sherlock stood, staring down at the former army doctor. He raised his eyebrows waiting for him to continue. "Sherlock, if you'd have gone through with the tradition..would you have..wanted to?" 

'WHy would i? It's pointless." 

"Yes, but- just answer the damn question." John said impatiently. Sherlock smirked. "What?" John questioned, brows knitted. Sherlock grabbed his wrist, dragging him out of the bedroom and into the main room, underneath the mistletoe in the kitchen. "Sherlock!" John said and he spun him around, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning in confidently. He kissed him deeply, hungrily. Like he'd been starved of it. Everyone stared in awe, their conversations faltering as they stared.  John tangled his hands in his hair, not giving a fuck anymore and kissing back forcefully. This delighted Sherlock, and encouraged him to push his lower half closer to John, their chests squeezed together. The kiss was impossibly long, and John felt like he was going to faint form lack of oxygen.

"Sher-" John started, but stopped when he realized that they were in front of everyone.

"Hardly a boring tradition." Sherlock proclaimed to their..audience as he straightened his jacket and fixed his hair. "Merry Christmas." He said as he stalked off, leaving John  to explain. He laughed awkwardly, looking for words, any words.

"Merry Christmas?" 

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 AN: Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! ^*^ Don't forget to vote and comment telling me what you think! I'll be sure to update the more important things later. Good night, love you, bye! :P