Christmas, Sherlock Request

[squealofapproval]

I might have, added some stuff. But here it is!

~~~

"HGNCH! HAHGNCH! Hah...hh...Heh'KSSH!"

"Isshoo! Hisshoo! Ip'chew! Hssh'ew!"

Sherlock shot a tired glare at Mycroft. They had sneezed at the same time again. Synchronicity.

"Bless you both," John said from his spot at the couch next to Mary.

Sherlock gave *him* a glare. He was still a bit burned out at him finding a new fiancé, but what can you do with a bi guy? I mean, never admitting his feelings wasn't the smartest move.

"Bpass the tissue box, brother dearestd." Mycroft said with a sniffle.

Sherlock tossed it over to his brother, who caught it and began blowing his nose.

Two sick Holmeses? John wasn't expecting this to happen. He was going to be in over his head.

"You have to let me care for you!" Mrs. Holmes pleaded. "You boys look like death and I need to be here for you."

Sherlock and Mycroft both shook their head. Synchronicity. Was that a recurring theme? Often it was.

"No, mother. We can handle this by ourselves," Mycroft said, tossing three used tissues into the trash can.

Sherlock got up and flopped down by the fireplace. "I'm a capable person..."

The matriarch Holmes heaved a heavy sigh and begun to bring in cookies.

"I biss Greg!" Mycroft wailed like a child, staring at his phone wallpaper of his husband.

"Too bad he's away for Christmas," Sherlock said with a smirk, ready to sneeze into his dressing gown. "Hih'yissh! Hah'tissh! Achoo!" He fanned in front of his face, his nostrils flaring. "Heh'gnchoo!"

"Bless you, brother bide," Mycroft said hoarsely from his armchair. "Yeah, sadly my dear was gone because of an away case."

~~~

Later in the night, John was about to lose it. He couldn't get a moment of peace with the needy men ailed in the living room or the mother hen after both of them with medicines or tea. He had tried to get Sherlock to eat countless times, all to no avail.

"Please, just a spoonful! Just one!" John said, hovering over the consulting detective and his tray of chicken broth.

Sherlock shook his head, apparently still a bit burned out. He could tell John cared, but he did not want to leave Mary's side. Mary, Mary, Mary! The one woman he couldn't steer John away from.

But, Mary was a great person and should hardly be a buffer for the blame. She was a sweet girl.

"Please, Sherlock..." Mary stared at him. "One spoonful?"

He nodded, stopped to wipe his dripping nose, and took a spoonful.

John grumbled something under his breath and left the room. Mary followed. Mycroft sneezed.

"Bless you," Sherlock mumbled under his breath as he unwillingly finished his bowl of soup.

"HGNXCH!" Mycroft sneezed violently. He whimpered as he weakly sat up to get a tissue. His long nose was running quite badly.

John returned. "Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?" There was sourness in his voice.

"Could you take a rest?"

"A rest from what?"

"A rest from this. Don't think I haven't noticed." John's eyes burned into Sherlock's conscious and the lithe man nearly sunk into the couch cushions.

"Hm?" Sherlock had already deduced what he was mad about, but decided to play dumb.

"You've been only listening to Mary! This whole day! What did I do?"

"Maybe he just thinks I'm a good person," Mary said with a sheepish smile, sitting down.

John gave her a "look".

"Sorry," she said, still grinning.

"You uh... You..." Sherlock fought for a way to phrase that. Illness clouded his brain.

"Well for whatever it is, I'm sorry," John said.

"Go to sleep, Sherlock," Mary ordered with a cheeky smile.

Sherlock pretended to be fast asleep and John said playfully, "Wake up!"

Sherlock continued to pretend. Then when Mr. Holmes brought in the gifts Sherlock perked up.

"You can only open one tonight," he said, setting them out.

"I've already gotten my gift," John said, nuzzling Mary.

"If I get a NyQuil bottle or something ridiculous..." Sherlock said, picking a gift from the pile. He deduced what it was but opened anyway. "Ah, chemistry set!"

"That was from me," John confessed. It was the same gift as the one he had gotten on that very first Christmas, but only a newer model.

"Thank you," Sherlock said, blushing redder despite his fever and hugging John.

Mycroft sighed and sneezed. "HAHGNXCH! GNXCHoo!" He shuffled over to his gift and opened it. It was from a certain D.I. It was a scrapbook, and inside it was already halfway done. To the flap in which it said "Christmas 2014- Without Greg" he slid in a picture of him and Sherlock sneezing and wrote. "Gregory didn't miss much." He then sneezed. "HHGNX! EHHNXX!"

"Bless you," Sherlock said again.

The rest of the gifts went well, but there was one John would never forget. The kiss from Mary and the box that contained a letter. From Sherlock. With words that could never be spoken in between them now, seeing John was married, but it meant just the same.

And whenever the Holmes boys sneezed at the same time.

[Seniorstatus14]

AWW! Cuteness overload!

[ID2006]

You rock

[squealofapproval]

Thanks guys. Tbh, I had no idea where this was going to go, but I had a harsh day and I needed some fluff. Even if it was my own.

[AngelEyes]

Adorable.

[squealofapproval]

Hugs to all of you :hug:

[SneezyRae]

Aaaawwww adorable

[squealofapproval]

[JulesSneeze]

D'AWWWW POOR BABIES!!!!

Also, a little off-topic, but when Sherlock and Mycroft are smoking outside in that episode, both men cough a bit on their cigarettes. Needless to say, I instantly imagined a fetishy scenario like this where both boys were under the weather

[squealofapproval]

Also, a little off-topic, but when Sherlock and Mycroft are smoking outside in that episode, both men cough a bit on their cigarettes. Needless to say, I instantly imagined a fetishy scenario like this where both boys were under the weather

Yes I loved their coughs and pretty much thought the same thing!

[JulesSneeze]

lol great fetishy minds think alike