John and Sherlock were drunk. Not even drunk. Absolutely, and without the slightest doubt, inebriated.

It was the eggnog, of course.

Mrs. Hudson had thrown a holiday get-together to celebrate. This featured, for no reason whatsoever, a heavily alcoholic eggnog. One glass was probably enough to make any tosser a tad tipsy.

Sherlock and John had had six.

And chaos had ensued.

Sherlock had begun deducing every living soul within purview. John had started to sing obnoxiously loudly, irritating even the most patient soul (in this case, Molly). Sherlock had, after some time, taken to stripping various articles of clothes off his body. This had left him bare-chested, sporting a magnificent pair of Christmas joggers, and a Santa hat, articles which John had convinced him to wear. John, on the other hand, had decided to squeeze Sherlock's arse every chance he got. This had proven to be, indeed, every chance, and the mood in the room had gotten rather awkward because of the antics of these two twats.

Mrs. Hudson, after sensing the mental depravity of the two, had decided to banish them upstairs to their flat, in an attempt to salvage the party. This of course, had left them in total privacy, resulting in a rather vigorous round of...activity.

That is how they lay, naked but covered in a blanket, snogging in front of their fire like a pair of teenagers, when Mycroft found them. The amusement showed clear on his chiseled face.

"So, I see this newfound relationship has been treating the two of you well. Mrs Hudson expects to see a ring in the next few months."

Sherlock grunted but kept attacking John's mouth. John, on the other hand, turned away from Sherlock, and smirked at Mycroft.

"Jealous, Mycroft?"

Mycroft smirked right back.

"Not in the least. I have my own...companion downstairs. I had come to collect him when I heard complaints of rather...vocal...activities occurring here."

Sherlock grinned at John and whispered softly to him, which in reality was rather loud.

"Mycroft's getting with Lestraaaade! I tooold you sooo!"

John and Sherlock stared at each other, then Mycroft, and proceeded to burst into a fit of giggles. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I would recommend you two to proceed to your bedrooms...or room, as I suspect. I hope that your hangover will not be beastly in the morning. Good night."

They nodded, still laughing, and that is how Mycroft left them. The next morning, they remained locked in their bedroom, blinds shut, sipping water and cuddling for the better part of the day.