Note: I'm slowly working my way through as many fanfic tropes as I can get my hands on, and teen!lock has always been one of my favorites :-) I'm not going to be updating on any sort of regular schedule, but I do hope to get this one up faster than I've done for some of my longer-running fics . . .
Harry's petulant footsteps echoed all the way up the stairs, so John wasn't the least bit surprised when she burst into his room with a murderous look on her face.
"I fucking hate them." She glared at John, daring him to call her out, then sighed and flopped gracelessly across his bed.
John knew better than to comment. Harry always argued loudly and with creative language - the hour-long shouting match downstairs would have demonstrated that handsomely if he hadn't already known. "Sounds like they didn't take it well," he said instead.
Harry rolled her eyes. "Bit of a fucking understatement. Mum is still crying and Dad seems to think he can yell me straight. Bloody idiots, both of them."
"Bit different than you expected?"
She sighed and rolled over onto her back. "It's just not fair," she grumbled. "When Clara came out to her parents last week, they just hugged her and said they'd support her no matter what. Why can't our parents be more open-minded?"
Because Clara's family isn't dysfunctional. Her parents ran a restaurant downtown - fourth generation local business, with pictures of her grandparents and great-grandparents on the wall. Her two older brothers both already worked in the kitchen after school and on weekends, so Clara's dreams of running off to London and becoming a solicitor wouldn't have any effect on whether the family business survived or not. They could afford to be open-minded.
John and Harry's parents, on the other hand . . . with Harry finally silent, John could still hear them arguing with each other in hushed tones down in the kitchen. Well, their father raving quietly interspersed with occasional sobs from their mother. Clearly Harry's announcement had been a complete shock to them.
Which was ridiculous, to be honest. John shifted around so he could lie next to her- not touching, just staring at the ceiling in parallel. "They may never accept it, you know," he said quietly.
"Don't remind me," Harry groaned. "It's just - it could have been so simple, you know? 'Mum, Dad, by the way, I have a girlfriend.' 'Oh, honey, that's nice. Bring her around for supper one of these days.' Why do they have to be such homophobic twats?"
"I'm not going to make excuses for them."
"I know. You shouldn't have to." She rolled to her side, studying his face intently. "It's easy for you - half the school's trying to get in your pants. No shortage of interested partners to pick from. The female ones, at least."
"Doesn't mean I want them all," John reminded her.
"Still." She grimaced. "I think my best bet is to watch which girls aren't trying to snog you in between classes. The one or two who don't are probably lesbians. If we have any at our school."
"Maybe some are bi?" John rolled to face her. "Could be they just haven't come out yet."
"Like you, you mean? Yeah, like that'll happen." She snorted. "Although I don't blame you - precious few choices on that side of the fence. I understand why you just let everyone know you're straight. It's not worth-" - she inclined her head toward the door - "-that."
Harry's acceptance of his cowardice hurt, John had to admit. So far she was the only one he'd told that he might also fancy blokes, and that was only because she'd come out to him first. It was all still theoretical anyway. There was only one openly-out boy at their school, a relatively new transfer - something that started with an S, John was pretty sure. They didn't exactly run in the same circles. Given that 100% of the attention John had received so far was female, was it really so odd that he'd never bothered telling anyone he was bi?
"You've said it now, though," John pointed out. "I mean, Mum and Dad will probably be stupid about it for a while longer, but you don't have to worry about planning a coming-out speech anymore. At least, not to them."
"I will to the school, though," Harry groused. "I would have been perfectly happy to keep Clara and me a secret, but she was sick of hiding. And I guess if I were her, with a supportive family, I'd feel the same. We shouldn't have to be the center of attention just because of this, you know?"
"I know," John echoed. "You think it'll be bad?"
Harry groaned and flopped backward again. "I don't want to think. I just want it to be over."
"You want to be snogging Clara."
"Well yes, that goes without saying." She had her arm thrown dramatically over her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips.
"Go on, then. You can't really make them madder than they already are."
Harry lowered her arm and peeked at him.
"I'm serious," John urged. "You just came out to your parents for her - that should be worth at least a bloody kiss. And it's not that late still - I'll cover for you if I have to. Get your arse over to her house and tell her how it went. I guarantee you'll feel better afterward."
Harry gave a reluctant laugh. "You're a terrible influence on me, you know that?"
"It's mutual," he countered. "One of us Watsons has to have some bloody sense, you know? I'm just not sure which of us it is."
The oak outside John's room was very tall, very old, and much closer to the house than their parents would have liked. Harry shimmied out the window with practiced ease and paused to give John an awkward one-armed hug before stepping the rest of the way outside. "Thank you," she murmured.
"Go." John watched to make sure she reached the ground safely before closing the window and retreating to his bed.
He had a lot of planning to do.