Word Count: 300-400
Warnings: None (besides teeth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Written for this prompt on the kinkmeme: Oh meme, all I want for Christmas is John and Lestrade slowdancing in the kitchen.
When you press me to your heart,
I’m in a world apart,
A world where roses bloom –
And when you speak, angels sing from above.
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs.
“What is it this time?” Lestrade asked as he walked into 221B’s kitchen.
Sighing, John rubbed his temples, elbows on the table. “What do you think?” he moaned. He had to speak louder than usual, due to the mournful music floating out of the living room. “It’s that bloody embezzling case you’ve got him on. Four days, no leads. He’s been a state ever since.”
Lestrade frowned and stepped forward, rubbing John’s shoulders lightly. “Well, the financier’s wife just returned, and I just gave Sherlock her testimony, so he might--”
“Ssh!” John interrupted, flapping his hand. Cocking an eyebrow, Lestrade fell silent.
Only then did he realize that the violin playing had changed its tone. The melody remained slow, but the tone became a lot more contemplative and a lot less dirge-like.
“Huh. Guess he found something then.” John turned and smiled up at the DI. “Thanks for that, I may actually be able to sleep tonight.”
Lestrade smiled back and, in a burst of spontaneity, grabbed John’s hand, pulling him up out of his seat. John gazed at him, puzzled, until Lestrade pulled him close and, resting a hand on the doctor’s waist, began to rock from side to side.
At the sound of a small giggle, though, he pulled back. “What?”
“Nothing, just…you’re such a girl,” John chuckled.
“Yeah?” Lestrade smirked back. “And who’s leading?”
“Yeah, well…I could try leading.” John tilted his head, thinking it over. “Though I wouldn’t want to try dipping you. It’ll end up bad for the both of us.”
With a snort, Lestrade pulled him closer. “Probably.”
As the melody glided around them, the two men continued swaying lightly, John’s head resting peacefully on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
Lestrade gave John’s waist a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna fall asleep, aren’t you?”
“Four days, Greg.” Grinning, he buried his nose in John’s hair and exhaled lightly.
“This is nice, though.” John’s voice reached his ears, muffled.
“Mmhmm,” Lestrade agreed. “…want me to twirl you?”
“I’d like to see you try.”