Just Johnlock- The Big Book of One Shots

Mistletoe Mishaps

John didn't want to be dramatic about tonight; he didn't want to over exaggerate it to his friends or even in his own mind. It was just a dance, a winter ball, to be more accurate, or at least that's what the student council wanted them all to call it. A dance, where there would be people, all dressed up in dresses and suits, and there would be dancing and food and... John sighed, looking down at his pale blue tie and frowning slightly. And of course, there was going to be Sherlock. He really didn't know how he felt about Sherlock's presence, of course Sherlock really wasn't all that, he wasn't popular, he didn't play any sports, and honestly he was everything John wasn't. But with that description in mind, that meant that he was smart, and responsible, and beautiful. Very, very beautiful. John untied his tie once more, trying to perfect the knot just to give his brain something to do other than fantasize about Sherlock Holmes, but then again there was nothing else he could seem to focus on. Sherlock was basically John's hopeless crush, one that even if John did confess to he'd be tormented the rest of his life. It wasn't like he had ever been gay, or even bisexual, it had never even crossed his mind until he had met Sherlock. If he even mentioned it to his friends then he'd either be alienated or tormented, if he mentioned it to Sherlock he would probably be rejected just because Sherlock would think it was some sort of cruel joke. John had the pleasure of sitting behind Sherlock in math class, and all he could ever see of that kid was his hair from behind, until finally one time John asked him a question, and his entire world had flipped upside down. Sherlock proved to be gorgeous beyond the meaning of the word, he had these stunning green and blue eyes, like an ocean clashed with a forest, his skin was a porcelain color, and his cheekbones seemed to be chiseled into his face. And another reason why this crush had popped up in John's head so long ago was because Sherlock was gay, like...really gay. The sheer understanding that Sherlock might have feelings in return might've been what made John dive right into this crush thing, it started off as something of a pity crush to be honest. John noticed Sherlock watching him one day while he was sitting at lunch, and Sherlock had taken a habit of swiveling over in his chair so that he could lean his elbows on John's desk and watch him work, just for the satisfaction of being able to correct all of his mistakes. And look at them now.
"John let's go, we're going to be late!" Harry, his older sister yelled from the hallway. John groaned, tying his tie in a knot to fix later and dashing out the door. John needed to somehow convince himself that he wasn't nervous about this dance at all; he was going to play it cool, dance with his friends, maybe dance with a few girls to make himself seem straighter. And he definitely wasn't going to pay any attention to Sherlock, no of course he wasn't.

When they arrived at the school it looked as though Jack Frost had thrown up all over the place, there were white lights clinging to the ceiling of the school, paper snowflakes hanging from strings, and Christmas trees decorating every available corner. Where their student body had managed to get these decorations and the money, John had no idea, but as he and Harry walked down the halls he could already hear the music being pumped from large speakers. Obviously this dance was going to be lame, they were always lame, but John also couldn't help but notice mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Maybe there was a promising factor after all. Thankfully as soon as they entered the cafeteria John was swept away by all of his friends, letting him escape his hellish big sister. John kept glancing almost absentmindedly at the door, watching as people entered, trying to see if any of them were the one person that mattered. But of course, Sherlock was nowhere to be found. In fact John almost doubted he would be coming, and he was just about to get steered to the dance floor by his friends before the room suddenly got a lot hotter for some reason. It was almost as if Sherlock's presence triggered a nervous reaction in John, because he felt his heart do some sort of flip flop in his chest before he even saw Sherlock in the first place. And there he was, walking into the room in a beautiful white suit with a dark blue tie, looking like a beautiful snowflake himself. John almost couldn't breathe, he watched until he saw Sherlock's gaze move in his direction, before finally looking away and pretending to have an awkward conversation with Greg. But he knew that Sherlock was there, he knew that this room was now blessed with that beautiful boy's presence. The dance itself wasn't all that bad, the music was upbeat and fun to dance to, the food was as tasty as the school could provide, and the people were, of course, complete idiots. John kept a bit of a watch on Sherlock the whole night, but the boy didn't seem to do anything except mope around, standing in the corners and not talking to anyone. Of course John was very aware of what was hanging over Sherlock's head in the particular corner he had chosen, mistletoe. John was tempted the entire night to go over there and just make his move, he knew that it would be quick, painless; maybe even just a word of affection would be enough to get Sherlock's mind on the right path. But every time John decided he wanted to go up and talk to him there was something holding him back, something that was very annoying to say the least. So finally when the music stopped, when the lights came back on and everyone started to file out, John lingered, pretending to help clean up the balloons and torn streamers that now littered the dance floor. It was a bit of a weak stalling technique, but he couldn't help but notice that Sherlock was still there as well. He was still sitting in that corner, staring at the ground with a blank expression as if he hadn't noticed the dance had ended. John started to edge over to him, deciding that they were secluded enough from the glances of all of the students still cleaning up. Sherlock only just looked up when John was about five feet away, jumping so violently that he banged his head on the wall behind him.
"John!" he exclaimed, his face glowing so red it almost seemed like his snow white suit might melt.
"Sherlock, you don't have to look so scared." John assured with a laugh, looking up at his crush with adoring eyes. Sherlock just shook his head, mumbling a weak apology. John didn't know what to do really, he knew that it was now or never, this may very well be the only time he could express his emotions to this boy.
"Sherlock, you look, um..." John groaned, covering his face with his hand in embarrassment, not knowing what to say next. So instead he just pointed his finger above Sherlock's head, deciding that the most obvious things in life just went without saying. Sherlock looked up fearfully, as if expecting to see a bat or a mysterious mold clinging to the ceiling tile. Sherlock went red once more, looking like he might start to cry, watching John with horrified eyes.
"Mistletoe." Sherlock whispered simply, his voice shaking in fear. John nodded, taking a step closer.
"Surely with all your brains you should know what to do when you're under mistletoe?" John wondered. Sherlock looked terrified, of course, but he also looked like he wanted to take a step closer.
"Yes of course..." he muttered. He wasn't running away, so that was a good sign. John just laughed, a smile or relief spreading over his lips as he realized how easy this was going to be. Their first kiss was practically gift wrapped, and just in time for Christmas. So John took a final step forward, standing up on his toes and pressing the quickest of kisses to Sherlock's lips, a little experiment of emotion that would hopefully be returned. As soon as John pulled away the two stumbled away from each other, breathless and flustered, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed their life changing event. Sherlock stared at John, and John stared at Sherlock, and they both knew there was only one move. They both ran.

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