Sherlock looked around with desinterest at the campsite. It was utterly ridiculous. Why on earth did a school like St. Barts need to go on a week long camping trip. Well, most likely it was an attempt to show that the students weren't the pompous, self entitled, spoiled brats, that everyone thought they were. Sherlock rolled his eyes, as some of the other boys complained about having to share tents. He looked around, trying to deduce who the idiot chaperones would pair with him, hopefully no one too moronic. But the brunette didn't have his hopes he saw him, the new student in their class. John, that was his name, they had never talked, but yet he found him so interesting.
John stood at the side of the campsite, his hair sticking slightly to his clammy forehead. John didn't know anyone here and it didn't help that they were all so up their own arse John was sure they could taste their breakfast. He was dreading this trip, no one liked him here but as hard as he tried to convince his mother, here he was, shuffling nervously, toeing twigs and fiddling idly with his camping boy seemed so simple, but yet so fascinating.
Sherlock couldn't do anything but stare at him. He could deduce everything about him. He didn't want to be here, that's a thing you could clearly see the way he was holding his hands. He was nervous, and pissed that he had to be on this trip. Sherlock tried to smile at him, so he wouldn't feel that uncomfortable.
John looked at every face running past him all blurred and pompous, noses high in the air as they snorted with laughter 'Idiots' John thought to himself, cringing at how pathetic they were. That's when he saw the other boy, a towering, thin boy with a mess of black curls on his head, he was smiling. John caught himself staring and pulled a rather eager smile in the boy's direction. He recognised him from class but couldn't quite place his name, it was an odd name and John racked his brain for the answer, closing his eyes trying to sift through all the other stuck up names running through his mind.
"Sherlock Holmes" Sherlock was standing infront of the boy, reaching his hand out so he could shake it. He smiled" Haven't found a lot of friends yet, eh? Don't worry, I've never had "friends". I'm sure you've heard from me already. You know ... the freak" His smile was bitter. John jumped out of his skin and his eyes shot open to see the front of the boy's shirt a hand length away from his face "Ah" John said shaking his head slightly "John Watson, nice to meet you" he smiled taking the other boy's hand, his own feeling thick and chunky in the other's thin one and John grimaced slightly "No...no I haven't" John continued looking around at the passing faces "Not my cup of tea really" he laughed softly rubbing the back of his head, feeling slightly awkward, he had heard of the rumors 'the freak' of the class but John was always one to see to believe and by the looks of things this boy was the most ordinary one here "I've heard yes" John admitted but smiled weakly, showing his sympathy, John had never been that popular either.
"So, haven't got a tent-mate either?" Sherlock asked awkwardly. John seemed really polite and nice. Maybe they could be friends? Well, if Sherlock didn't freak him out in the next couple of hours.. "Let's go" Sherlock said taking his bags , and starting to set up the tent. "Do you know how to do this?" he pointed at it. "I haven't done this in years, I must admit!" "Oh" John said as his bag was taken from him "Okay?" he said a little bemused but a grin had appeared on his face and he wasn't entirely sure why "Here, let me help" John laughed taking out the poles and putting them together swiftly, John had put up a few tents before when his family went on holiday and within a few minutes he had assembled the basic parts "It's not that hard really" John sighed pulling together a few poles before gesturing to the rigid structure.
"Yeah" Sherlock said, "So, you like camping?" he asked nicely, trying to start a friendly conversation. He wanted to get to know this guy, John, somehow had something that was fascinating him. He'd never felt something like that before. But he felt his cheeks slightly blushing, trying to hide them, he turned away.
"Oh yeah, I enjoy it when there aren't twenty odd posh twats running around" John muttered quietly smiling up at Sherlock to see his back turned and John's eyebrows furrowed, maybe the boy had had enough of him already, John thought, maybe he'd end up by himself after all. "You've you been camping before?" John asked to Sherlock's back, trying to continue the conversation."mhm" Sherlock bit his finger, trying to cool down a bit. He could blame it on the sun, though? Yes, he would just say that it's so hot, thats why he's blushing... yeah, totally believable.
"I went camping with my brother a lot, he's also the one who says I should make more friends" Sherlock turned round, hoping his face looked normal. "If you just shut up and stop deducing everyone, maybe they'll like you... thats what he always says", sherlock stared at the ground, unable to move. Suddenly he looked straight into Johns face, his blue eyes staring into Johns. "Maybe I should in fact shut up!" His smile was gone.
John just stared at Sherlock, he felt his mouth fall open into a small 'O' and couldn't really think of what to say "Oh" was all he could achieve before giving a nervous laugh, his cheeks flushing brilliantly. He turned away himself now, trying to distract himself with the tent pins "My family isn't exactly the most encouraging either" John laughed again, trying to break the awkward hue that had accumulated between them. "I know" Sherlock said, and the moment he had said that he regretted it, why did he always had to destroy everything?!
"S..Sorry" he murmured, hoping that he could dissapear right on the suddenly felt very self-conscious "You know?" he tried laughing it off, a joke obviously, right? he thought. Then he looked up to see sherlock watching him, nothing about his expression told him that it was a joke."You really want me to do this? Haven't the others told you already? " " The freak, he knows everything about you with only one look." Sherlock said emotionless
"I don't...they don't really...no" John stuttered "I want to know" John frowned, wanting to see what everyone had been talking about. He stood from his kneeling position and watched Sherlock eagerly."ok, here we go" sherlock thought, John is going to hate him after this.
" You've got a father in military service, he hasn't got a lot of time for you lately, your mother is really careing and she encouraged you to go on this trip, you've got one older sister, but you two don't really get on well. Maybe because of the drinking or of her switching relationships. But mostly because of the drinking, it reminds you of your father on sundays, when he's got his day off, you can't stand to hear your mother cry, when your father has had too much. That's why you changes schools, to start a new life, but your past is haunting you, thats why you don't want to make friends, so no one finds out about this!" Sherlock finished slowly.
John didn't really remember when he'd fallen back onto the tent but the material was clinging to his sweaty skin and he had a sudden urge to just curl up into a ball and cry. No one knew about the drinking /no one/. "How.." John stuttered "You couldn't have" he tried saying but his mouth was horribly dry "Who told you!?" John suddenly felt very angry, unbelievable, this boy was just another one of the pompous arse boys here. He pushed himself up ready to set the boy straight when he realised Sherlock's expression, emotionless, but his eyes, wide and fearful. "I..." John stopped himself, un-clenching his shaking fist "How did you know that?" john breathed slowly, regaining himself. "I saw it" Sherlock said simply " And now you hate me, that's what always happens, always" Sherlocks eyes filled with sadness, he turned to leave, he would ask if he could have a tent for himself, alone.
"No" John said bluntly "No one told you?" John asked steadily, feeling his legs turning into liquid again, unbelievable. The pain John saw in Sherlock's eyes was hard to watch and John knew immediately, Sherlock was telling the truth and John grabbed hold of the boy's arm, holding him in his place "That was extraordinary" John muttered quietly"That's not what people usually say" Sherlock murmured looking at Johns hand.: "Really? What do people normally say?" John asked, eyebrows furrowed looking up into Sherlock's face "piss off" Sherlock said emotionless: John stood there for a few seconds before he felt the smile pull at the corner of his lips and before he knew it he was laughing, full belly laughing, maybe it was a nervous reaction, shock maybe but John was laughing, for the first time in a long time he was really laughing.
Sherlock started to smile,he actually hadn't meant this in a funny way, but he was happy that he could make John feel better. " So, you still want me in your tent? Even if I was so mean to you?" Sherlock asked, his eyes filled with sorrow. Sometimes he hated himsef for being how he was.: "Of course" John smiled wiping his eye slightly, a light feeling in his chest lifting him up "Maybe you can dish the dirt on Francis" John giggled jabbing Sherlock in the ribs before grimacing at how sharp it was, Sherlock was so smiled, he'd never had the expierience of someone likeing him. " This is new for me" he said " I've never had friends, I'm just the rich freak, the rich freak who wants to be a detective , how weird is that?" Sherlock said, his voice cracking a bit
."Hmm?" John asked a little confused "Not weird at all..." John said honestly, ever since his father was in the army John felt as if he had to follow in his footsteps but that was never truly what he wanted."You think so? Everybody else wants to be teacher or something like that. I want to be something interesting! What do you want to be? Clearly not a soldier" Sherlock said looking John straight in the eyes.
John blushed, of course Sherlock would see right through him. "Yes, you can be whatever you want to be" John murmured, envious of Sherlock's freedom. "It's nothing" John said waving off the question, there was no point saying it aloud, it would never happen. Ever since he was little he wanted to be a writer but his father had told him otherwise. "I think you would be a great writer, judging by your hands, and you've got a great imagination!" Sherlock smiled softlyJohn's eyes widened and another wave of weakness ran through him and he had to lock his knees tightly "Thanks..." John blushed, he'd never been encouraged to do anything he wanted to before "You'd be the best detective, you could catch a killer by their left thumb" he chuckled, trying to make it sound like a joke but something was very blunt and truthful about the statement, he probably could.
"Well, thank you" Sherlock blushed a bit. "Wanna go for a walk? The nature is great!" Sherlock asked with enthusiasm. Maybe a little walk would clear his mind, from all these "romantic feelings" he hoped. Sherlock started walking, breathing in the fresh air, trying to clear his thoughts. Everytime he closed his eyes, he thought about John, how was this even possible. He could feel his cheeks blush again.
John slowly got up, to follow the boy. The cold air hit his face, whilst he followed the dark haired boy to the woods. It was a clear night, no clouds. Sherlock had layed down near the lake. The moonshine on his face. "those cheekbones" John thought and blushed. He sat down next to the boy. Sherlock opened one eye, sighnt happily and closed it again. John could hear his breath even out. "Hey, dont fall asleep out here, youre gonna catch a cold." the blonde said and lightly pushed his friend. Sherlocks eyes busted open and he sat up quickly. He looked at John, his blue eyes filled with something John could not describe. It was a mixture of joy, pain and comfort ?
Did he see love in the eyes of the dark haired boy?
