ftm!sherlock

This was inspired by me finding a lot of fanart at 1 am where Sherlock is binding with bandages...which you should never do, so I'm fixing it

tw: potential dysphoria

You weren't really one for parties, and you could tell Sherlock wasn't either. You had been invited to John's Christmas party by him asking if you were coming, then ridiculing Sherlock for not inviting you, before inviting you.

Sherlock deduced you didn't like parties, but out of politeness you insisted to show up.

Actually, you were quite good at giving presents. Which is why your plan was to go the party for a little bit—enough to say happy holidays to everyone and give them their presents.

"Y/n! So lovely to see you. Everyone's already upstairs." Mrs. Hudson greeted you, giving your arm a squeeze.

You smiled at her. "Thank you, I'm not sure I'll be staying long though. Here's your gift." You handed her a small box.

"Oh, dear. You shouldn't have." She said in surprise, taking it from you.

"It's no problem." You insisted.

"No, I can't. I didn't get you anything."

"It's fine, really. I'm not much of a gift person." You smiled, attempting to reassure her.

At this point you were glad Sherlock wasn't there, because that wasn't exactly true; you liked presents well enough, but not when they came from a place of obligation.

"Ohh, well thank you anyway." She said, giving you a quick hug, before letting you make your way upstairs to where everyone else was.

Everybody you knew greeted you when you got upstairs. You distributed your handful of presents quickly and efficiently until you only had one in your hand: Sherlock's.

You knew it may have been a long shot to get him a present, but when you found a fox skull in good condition, you couldn't help yourself. It had to go to him.

"John, do you know where Sherlock is?"

"Not sure...I think I saw him step outside."

"Alright, I'll find him."

"Is that for him?"

"Yep."

"Good luck, mate." You could tell he was being genuine, but you shrugged it off, and started down the hallway towards his room, it's the intention of slipping in, putting the present somewhere, slipping out, then leaving, but you saw him in the middle of the room.

Believing John, you opened the door, only to see Sherlock standing in the middle of the room with his shirt off.

He jolted when he saw you, and his arms instantly shot up to cover his chest. He stared at you, shocked. He had bandages dangling from one hand which you instantly recognized as ace bandages, and you noticed a small incision around his ribs where they had been too tightly wound.

You entered quickly, and closed the door behind you.

"What the hell?" You set the present on the bed, quickly, then walked towards him.

He started backing away from you.

"No, it's okay, I'm just going to check your ribs."

"Don't touch me. They're bruised. Just get out."

You sighed, and stopped approaching him, instead looking at him.

"Out." He growled.

You shook your head. "What size?"

"What?"

"Im not letting you put those back on. What size?"

"I'm fine."

"I'll stay here all night if I have to, just tell me what—you know what, never mind, just turn around."

"What?"

"You can have my binder. I have a spare. Just turn around."

He nodded, and did so. You turned around too, and worked to get your binder off. Luckily, you already had a hoodie on, and a coat over it, so you could hide your chest well enough if you slouched.

"Here. I can get you a different size if you need. But you need to stop wearing bandages." You said, putting the binder on the bed.

You turned to walk out the door, when Sherlock spoke. "There is a jumper in my closet. If you need it." You paused, and quickly walked over to the closet, finding the jumper in the back. You checked and saw that Sherlock still had his back to you, the items on the bed untouched. So you quickly undressed, putting on the jumper over the hoodie and coat, before leaving Sherlock's room, and the flat.

*time skip

You heard a knock on your door the next day, and opened it to find Sherlock on your doorstep with snowflakes caught in his curly dark hair, and on his coat and scarf.

"I wanted to say thank you. For last night."

"It's no problem."

He nodded. "No one saw you last night when you left. Oh, and here's something I got you." He handed you a small box from his pocket.

You smiled down at it. "Thank you, I won't tell anyone, by the way." You saw him physically relax a little when you said it.

"Thank you...Merry Christmas." He smiled at you, before getting back into the cab waiting for him.