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Mistletoe

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“John, why have you covered the flat in greenery?”

John looked up from his laptop to smile at his husband, who was examining a sprig of mistletoe John had hung in the doorway. “It’s tradition, Sherlock,” he explained with a shrug. “I’ve done it before.”

Sherlock was not easily convinced. “Yes, but you’ve never been so zealous before. And I don’t recall you ever using this in the past. What’s the significance?”

“’Viscum album,’” John replied, setting his laptop aside and standing up, “commonly called mistletoe. It’s traditional to kiss your sweetheart under a sprig of mistletoe at Christmastime.” He joined Sherlock in the doorway and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Like this.”

“I think I like this tradition,” Sherlock hummed, chasing John’s lips to give him a second kiss. “Why have you never used mistletoe before?”

John grinned. “Because we’ve never needed an excuse to share a kiss,” he murmured. “And because I didn’t hang it for us.”

“Who did you hang it f-? Oh.” Sherlock shot his husband an amused look. “You can’t keep doing this to Hamish, John. It’s getting ridiculous.”

John shrugged, a slightly manic glint in his eyes. “Hush. I let you teach H about liver decomp; I’m allowed to help him get a girl.”

Sherlock shook his head. “John Watson, you never cease to surprise me.”

“That’s why you love me. Now let’s move, H and Mia are due home any minute!”

Sure enough, the front door opened and a pair of voices could be heard downstairs.

“Move!” John hissed, scrambling back towards the couch. He barely managed to sit down and pull his laptop across his knees before there were footfalls on the stairs. Sherlock snorted and moved out of the doorway, removing his coat as he went.

“Dad, Father, I’m home!” Hamish announced as he reached the top of the stairs. “I brought Mia with me!”

“Hi guys,” John greeted casually. Sherlock smirked as he sat in his armchair. “Did you have a good last day of term?”

Hamish strode into the sitting room to drop his school bag by the windows while Mia leaned against the doorframe. “It was alright,” Hamish said with a shrug. “I’m just glad we’re on break now.”

Mia laughed. “I don’t know, junior, I had a ton of fun today. I especially enjoyed the reading you did in English.” She caught John’s eye. “Hamish makes a wonderful ‘Ghost of Christmas Past.’”

Hamish rolled his eyes as he headed for the kitchen, blushing slightly. “Mrs. Parkins knows how I feel about Dickens… That’s the only reason she picked me,” he muttered darkly.

“I like the decorations, Doctor Watson,” Mia said brightly, changing the subject before Hamish could pout. “It’s very festive!”

“Thank you, Mia,” John replied pleasantly. “I wish I could take all the credit, but Sherlock actually helped me this year.”

Sherlock shot John a confused look as Hamish made his way out of the kitchen carrying a bag of crisps and two apples. “I don’t buy that for a second, Dad,” he called. “If you need us, we’ll be up in my room celebrating the end of term and playing hours of computer games.”

“But your father did help, H,” John insisted. “He helped me hang the mistletoe!”

Hamish froze in the doorway. “What misltet-?” His question was cut off by Mia, who chose that moment to grab his face and press their lips together. Hamish nearly dropped the snacks in surprise.

“That mistletoe!” Mia said cheerfully as she pulled away, pointing to the sprig above their heads. “Now c’mon, junior! We’ve got zombies to kill!”

“R-right, zombies,” Hamish stammered, following the grinning girl out to the landing and up the stairs towards his room. “Zombies…”

Once the door to Hamish’s room clicked shut, John shot Sherlock a smug look. “Told you it would work!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I much preferred when we were under the mistletoe.”

John laughed. “Well, it’s available now, if you’d like…?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”