The Great Game (of chess)
Sherlock tried to concentrate on the game. He knew if he really paid attention to this game he could win the title in two moves. But as much as he tried, he couldn't focus on the board in front of him. At sixteen, he had little interest in other people. The only reason he involved himself in chess matches was because it was a good way to stimulate his mind. It wasn't that he didn't want conversation with others; it was just that he found most of his classmates to be incredibly dull though. Johnny was different though. From watching his previous games it was clear Johnny had won by chance, at that really he stood no chance against Sherlock's brains. But it was something other than his intelligence that fascinated Sherlock. He liked Johnny's wit, his warmth, his determination. Being educated at an all boys school and shunning friendship with others meant that he was not aware of teenage love, he had not experienced any of it. But he was not stupid, far from it. He could tell his feelings; he could recall reading textbooks that described his feelings as something apparent. Perhaps he did love Johnny, maybe a little bit. But he knew he shouldn't, he had no time for that, and his brain must do big things in the world.
He moved his bishop across the board, cursing as he did so, realising that he had just walked into a checkmate. Johnny grinned widely as he captured Sherlock's king easily.
Yes captured. It seemed like a highly appropriate word to Sherlock.