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As it turns out, there isn’t much about Christmas that Sherlock Holmes doesn’t like. This morning, John woke up first and spent the time preparing the perfect Christmas breakfast. Of course, John has spent most of his time living with Sherlock as the designated chef, and there’s very little he can’t make at this point.
He considers the brownies, fudge, tarts, cookies, pies, and variety of other treats with a hungry eye as he pads into the kitchen, but sets his mind on his task and manages to ignore his sweet tooth. It doesn’t take him very long to make pumpkin French toast, apple sausage with maple syrup, eggs benedict, and toast.
Two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows complete the meal and John does his best to balance it all on an old tray he finds under the counter as he makes his way back into the bedroom. John’s not sure whether it’s the smell, the sound, or the time of day that wakes his partner, but Sherlock stirs softly as he enters the room and a smile crowns his face.
“Hello, love,” Sherlock murmurs, gazing blearily at John.
“Hello,” John smiles, setting one mug of hot chocolate down on Sherlock’s night table. Making his way around to his side of the bed, John manages to set the plates down in the middle, place his own mug on the night table, and put the tray on the floor before climbing back onto the mattress.
He smirks at Sherlock as the detective blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “What’ve you done?” Sherlock asks as he sits up.
Leaning forward to place one gentle kiss on Sherlock’s lips before they begin their meal, John simply smiles. “It’s Christmas,” he responds.