A Johnlock before christmas

December 19

Wanna have a cuppa?

John and Sherlock were in the middle of a case. They were just entering 221B, Sherlock was deep in thought about that serial killer who had just murdered a twenty years old woman. He stepped into the living room and laid down on the sofa. John strolled over to the kitchen. He wasn't really thinking about what he was saying, in thought about the case too. "Wanna have a cuppa?" , he asked. Sherlock hummed. "Alright, love." John froze. He hadn't planned to say something like that. Please, let Sherlock already be in his mindpalace, he thought blushing. He spun around to see if Sherlock had heard him. Said man was staring at him with wide eyes. John's blush deepened. "I… er… uhm… ", he stammered. He watched Sherlock, who still was staring at him, and to his surprise Sherlock blushed too. Well, of course, this whole situation was awkward for both of them. John gulped, then turned around and hurried into the kitchen. He set the kettle on the stove and began to nestle around with the dishes. Just don't look at him, just ignore the situation. He let this mantra run through his mind.

"John?" He flinched and spun around, just to see Sherlock standing only a few inches behind him. He started to blush again. "Uhm, yes, Sherlock?" "I was just… uhm… what did you say before?", Sherlock asked. Oh god, why can't he just leave it, John thought. "Err, nothing… I mean… I asked if you want a cuppa." John looked awkwardly around, everywhere but in Sherlock's eyes. "John." His eyes snapped back to Sherlock's face. He must have come nearer, they were only 3 inches apart now. "Yes?", he breathed, his blush deepening by the though how close Sherlock was. "It's alright, love", Sherlock said and bend down to him, until their lips met.

John froze, his eyes wide in surprise. Sherlock bloody Holmes was kissing him. Him! Suddenly he realised that he should react somehow and he started to hungrily kiss him back. His hands travelled up Sherlock's spine and he stroke through his curly black hair, deepening the kiss. Sherlock's arms slung around his waist, pulling him nearer. After what felt like ages, they finally broke apart, panting and gasping for breath. Sherlock gave him a genuine smile. He pressed his forehead against the other man's and closed his eyes. John grinned. He had dreamed a lot of this moment but he had never thought it would actually happen. "So, would you now eventually bring me my tea, please?", Sherlock demanded grinning. John chuckled. "I love you, too, you git."

AN: I don't own anything. 
Merry Christmas, 
~ Allie