Summer was extremely boring that year, school ended and John was spending time at his grandparents' house. There were no kids of his age around so the main fun and occupation was to discover the nearby woods, trying not to get at private territory.
Grandma told him, that people who live there are quite nice, but a bit weird, so he shall try to avoid crossing the border of their Mansion even more. The words were absorbed by his smart little head, blond hair growing so fast in summer that he needed a haircut already.
"Sure, ran, I will do my best!" - John saluted and smiled widely. Today he played "Doctor" - imagining he is a real doctor and was summoned to some distant country to perform his duties. There was war and a lot of wounded soldiers needed him. So he grabbed some sandwiches, took his first aid kit and walked towards the woods, before the sun was too high and it became really hot.
John was passing a small river and stopped to drink cold water and have a sandwich. "Well, no one needs a tired doctor, really," - he thought. Chewing thoughtfully, imagining how he gets to the wounded soldiers and what would he do first, John didn't hear someone approaching him from the back. Not until there was a wooden sabre at his throat.
"Stay exactly where you are." - said the voice from behind. After a second of hesitation it added "Arrr, soldier yet you are, I see you are a doctor too. I need a doctor, since I have lost my ship and suffered from my evil brother's treason against me." - At this words the blade disappeared and John turned back, eyeing the thin, dark haired boy, his curly hair nearly covering the bright grey-blue eyes, both of his knees were bruised, a wooden sabre was now attached to his belt made out of big blue scarf, maybe his mother's one.
"How did you guess about… ah, first aid kit - right? But how did you guessed I am a soldier? And by the way - I don't even know your name," - said John, accepting the game.
"The name is Sherlock. Yours, army doctor?" - he sat on the stone beside John, spreading his thin legs out, making it easier for John to treat the wounds.
"My name is John and you haven't answered my question… pirate Sherlock."
"Just Sherlock, please,"- he waved his hand, watching John disinfecting the knees and putting patches over each bruise. "It was easy, you are a doctor, but not the usual village doctor - no. The way you move and the name tags under your t-shirt makes it obvious you are an army doctor, at least to me. Also, you don't like your brother, since you are in the woods this early, probably because of his habit to sleep through all morning."
"How did you possibly know about my?.." John briefly looked up at his new mysterious friend, sitting there with his smug grin, strange eyes and quite alien cheekbones.
"Well, you obviously wear his t-shirt, it is a bit too long for you and not brand new." Sherlock looked at his knees. "Here we go, now he will run away as soon as possible. Boring." - he thought rather sadly as he already liked this confident and quite a smart boy, such a difference from this place trivia.
"That… that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! You should be a policeman or a private detective, not a pirate… Although Harry is my sister, elder one and she prefers boys clothes…"
"Sister! It is always something!" - Sherlock hit the ground with his fist, but suddenly realized the boy, John, was beaming at him. "That's not what they usually say".
"What then they usually say?" John was still smiling. He finally found someone to play with. Summer was not boring anymore.
"Piss off". They both laughed.
"By the way - I am going to build a tree house, it will be a hub, a shelter, to hide from boring people. Would you like to help me and share it?" Sherlock's cheekbones, rather pale, were now getting slightly red with anticipation.
"Yes, sure! When do we start?" - John couldn't believe in his luck.
"It might be dangerous - my brother will try to spoil everything". Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, but his twitching corners of his mouth were really giving him away - he knew John would now fight for that tree house as for his own.
"And yet here I am, Sherlock".
They both smiled. That was beginning of something new, interesting and dangerous.
"Sherlock! It is childish and silly! Get down, now! Mommy will be very crossed with you!" - The corpulent teenager with a bit reddish hair was staring up with disapproval at the huge old oak tree and breathing heavily.
"Go to your friends, Mycroft! I am a pirate and this is my ship. Right, Captain John the Three Continents' Devil?"- Sherlock waved with his wooden sabre, standing on the roof top of their tree house.
"I am afraid Admiral Sherlock the Deadly Sea Gull is right. You are not welcome here." - John was sitting at the door, his legs crossed fifteen feet above the ground and Mycroft. He looked up at Sherlock and shared the happy grin of victory.
"All right, dear brother. But be sure to have a talk about your new… hobbies." - Mycroft left in the most pompous manner he could afford in the forest, wearing his light grey suit.
All he heard from behind was two giggling kids, soon laughing madly.
They never met other time than summer - different cities, different lives. Only in summers they saw each other and had the best holidays they could ever remember. Sherlock's chemistry related experiments, the trips in wild to search for some rare animals or plants, pirates adventures, soldiers in British Army, policemen games, occasional horse riding and reading in their tree house - everything from scientific magazines to Agatha Christie and Tolkien. Gladly, they built the house counting on using it as they grow up. Indeed, they were changing, more and more different from one another. Sherlock was growing rather fast, his long limbs were giving him a bit of awkwardness, hair as curly as ever, cheekbones more prominent as his face changed proportions slightly, skin pale and sensitive even to English rather merciful sun. John on contrary was shorter, but his muscles made him look a bit older, resembling more a young man, than a teenager, easily tanned, blond haired - he could easily get friends anong older guys and girls, yet he preferred company of his strange friend. It was their sixteenth summer and fifth summer together.
"Sherlock, are you mad? It is raining, it is cold and it is bloody five in the morning, you bastard." John was whispering angrily from his window, Sherlock smiling at him from under the dark blue raincoat.
"I have another raincoat for you. Come along, John - it is going to be fun! The experiment is nearly finished, I want you to see it!" He waved his hand as if showing John the sight of how brilliant was his new revelation. Last time it was a chemical to find a trace of a blood on man's clothes without destroying it or leaving significant traces.
"All right, all right. But you are still crazy. At least hide under the roof, for God's sake." John disappeared from the window to get dressed, steal some food and take a thermos of cocoa for both of them. If Sherlock could live on his bran energy - John could not and preferred his friend not to starve either. He sighed, waiting for kettle to boil. What will they be in another five years? John liked Sherlock, liked him more than anyone around him. But he feared their paths will go different ways, they would probably find girlfriends and go on vacations to somewhere else, enter college, get new friends… He sighed and pushed that all aside. It would be as it should be, Sherlock was still his now. His friend, well.
"Are you there?" - John left the house as quiet as possible. His grandparents were really old fashioned and din't approve such a close friendship with a guy most of people called "freak". Not surprisingly, Harriet went to London to visit some of her friends she met on internet. John knew it all but kept in secret the nature of connection between those "girlfriends".
"John." Sherlock stepped out of the shadow, grabbig his friend by the arm. "Let's go!"
"Oi, you, cold hands! I don't want you to fall ill." - Angry whisper was followed by the thermos, pushed into Sherlock's arm.
Quite unwillingly he took it and made three big gulps, before hanging it back to John. No matter what Sherlock said it was pleasant, hot and not too sweet, the bitterness of chocolate still present. John Watson - in a nutshell.
They walked as fast as they could, John kept wondering what made his friend so excited. He tried not to slip on the wet ground and keep up with Sherlock's fast pace while the mentioned one clenched his again cold fingers around John's palm.
Soon they approached the tree house, Sherlock as the taller one climbed up to the lowest branches to get the rope ladder. Climbing up he thought several times that his experiment was indeed close to the end - it was frightening and exciting at the same time. If he was right, if the hypothesis would have to be accepted as truth - it was a success… He tried not to think about the failure.
"Sherlock, really - it has to be something outstanding now, you know." John was already up, taking off the raincoat and placing it on the hook near Sherlock's one.
"Shush, John. Close your eyes, now." - John did so, first giving Sherlock a suspicious look and huffing audibly.
"As I told you, it was very important experiment" - he slowly approached John, taking the warm thermos from his hands, brushing his fingers over John's hand, noticing the shiver which wasn't from cold entirely. - "It involved me," - the thermos was placed on the floor, sounds of rain and John's elevated breathing perfect for the speech he thought though since yesterday and already forgot most of it, - "it involved you." - Cold fingers intertwined with warm ones, a step closer and voice falling to a low whisper. - "It involved this house and this summer." - The other hand on John's neck, thumb stroking his jawline hesitantly. - "And today it would probably end, but I have no regrets about it. John. I ask of you - don't hit me the next seven or ten seconds at least."
Sherlock waited to see a small nod John made, eyes still closed, face slightly red and damp from the rain.
"Good…" - Sherlock lowered his head and slowly kissed John, first just barely brushing their lips, then pressing slightly harder and trying to hold his racing heart as John's lips parted with a sigh. His free hand stretched and lied on the back of Sherlock's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
Rain hid the start of the dawn and concealed them both from the upcoming gloomy day as they stayed in the middle of their old tree house, kissing slowly, exploring the new opportunities, finishing an old experiment and starting something rather new - outside its boundaries