Sherlock pawed through the boxes of old journals, looking for a notebook with chemistry notes from years ago when his hands landed on an old notebook. The dates rang a bell until he dug through his mind palace for why. A few minutes later had him bolting down the stairs to his mate who was lounging in the kitchen.
"John!"
John's blond head came up, brow furrowed. He paused in his paper grading. "Hm? What is it?" He reached up pulling Sherlock into his lap despite their height difference and the fact that he was the Omega. Sherlock plopped the notebook in front of him.
"This is my journal from the week you came to spend at our house, when I blew up your pants. I thought we might read it together…" Sherlock responded as he nuzzled John's temple.
"Let me make some tea and gather some biscuits… this ought to be interesting."
Twenty minutes later found them curled up on the sofa with the notebook. John leaned back against Sherlock's chest as they lounged together.
"Ready?" asked John.
"Let's see what much younger me thought, shall we?"
Saturday
Stupid Mycroft brought home a classmate. I don't like him… He's blond and plays rugby. What a ridiculous way to spend one's time. Why on Earth would you spend your time smacking into people on a field?
What an idiot.
At least my samples from the marsh have been promising. I shall have to trek back there in the morning to retrieve some of the pond scum.
I hate his stupid blond hair.
Sunday
The nerve of those two. They told me I was too young to help this week with their experiment. That's why stupid, fat, Mycroft brought him home. I thought maybe it was because he's an Omega. Though I had questioned how Mycroft had managed to convince any Omega to come within reach let alone home with him for our break.
His name is John. Dull. Why must everyone Mycroft associate with be so dull?
I've hidden all of the cakes and tea in the house in retribution.
Very amusing, Sherlock. Cookie made that chocolate cake just for me and you know it. Give back my special blend of Earl Grey or I'm confiscating your microscope.
Try it and I tell Father about your weekend with Trevor in Paris!
Monday
Stupid Mycroft and Dull John are starting their project today. They still won't let me help. I keep telling them that they are ridiculous. I know what they're trying to do and the simplest way would be to- I'm not going to write it down. Mycroft, I know you snoop in my journal. I'm not going to give you the answer. You can figure it out on your own. I may do it just to prove that I can and watch you two idiots fail time and time again all week.
I can't believe I have to stay home with you two. This is ridiculous. Neither of you know what you're doing. Rugby player and a rubbish hopeful politician.
This is an insult to my intelligence.
Monday Afternoon
John isn't as dull as I thought he was. He let me have some of the chemicals they are using. Not nearly enough, but more than Mycroft would have let me have. I suspect it is because he has not heard that I set the groundskeeper's shed ablaze at Christmas.
Perhaps I should amend my statement about not liking John. He has blue eyes. I hadn't noticed until now.
He's still rather stupid. Rugby… honestly.
Tuesday
I spent the morning using the chemicals John gave me only to have Cookie run me out of the kitchen because 'the only smoking allowed in there was of meats' and she was 'having none of your mad scientist bits going on!' Utterly uninspiring. Everyone in this house is conspiring to bore me to death during this holiday.
I've convinced the gardener to pick me up some things from the shop when he goes in for supplies. He thinks I want to take up tending potted plants.
How dull.
John invited me to observe their experiments today. I think I like him even more. At least much more than Mycroft. I already know I'm going to be an Alpha when I present. Mummy and Father had the blood test done. Surely John will like speaking to me better than to Stupid Mycroft.
Mycroft is boring. At least I conduct interesting experiments and play violin. Mycroft still won't practice his piano lessons as he should.
Idiot.
You'll never find anyone who wants to spend time with you if you keep going like this, Mycroft.
Tuesday night
Dinner was stupid. Redbeard spilled soup on us all and John laughed at me. He actually laughed at me. I didn't like it.
It's not my fault I had soup in my hair.
Wednesday
I refuse to be in the same house with Mycroft. He suggested I go on a play date. A play date! With the school children down the road. I don't want to ride ponies with the children, you utter bastard. You are ridiculous and I simply cannot stand you.
I dumped pond water on their experiment and made them have to start over. Mycroft was quite cross but John was very kind. He took me outside and hiked to the pond with me to see what I'm doing. He actually paid attention when I told him about the differences in the chemical make ups of the mud around the marsh near the pond.
He is smarter than Mycroft.
This is a ridiculous notion, Sherlock. John Watson is not smarter than I. He merely appealed to you on a childish level and went traipsing about in the muck with you. This does not make him smarter. In fact, all evidence would point to the contrary. Though it would appear you've developed a small liking for him. How adorable.
Sod off, Mycroft.
Idiot.
I hate you.
Thursday
John came down early to breakfast and sneaked Redbeard some bacon when Cookie wasn't looking. Mycroft always shoos Redbeard out of the room. He's so much nicer than Mycroft. I think I'll ask him if he wants help with his chemistry homework when we all go back to school. God knows Mycroft won't do it and John is smart. He should get to go to University and do whatever he wants to do.
He says he wants to teach. Why would anyone want to hang about idiot children?
I cannot stand my classmates. They are all stupid, but Mummy and Father say they won't let me advance in classes because it's good for me to be with children my own age.
I can't stand it. All they want to talk about are the newest films or who got what new toy.
Idiots.
Friday
John's been very helpful with my experiments on mud properties. We've even started an entire notebook dedicated to them. I am surprised at his very neat handwriting. Oh… He's here. I'll write more later.
Honestly, Sherlock, getting this involved with John Watson is only going to end in pain. I suggest you stop this nonsense now.
SOD. OFF. MYCROFT. WANKER.Ugh, I can't believe I'm related to you. Surely you are adopted. Where else did that ridiculous ginger hair come from?
Uncle Gareth and Grandfather Sherrinford both have ginger hair as you are well aware, Sherlock. Don't be despiteous.
Friday Evening
John is a thick headed, arrogant, prat. And I told him so. I'll show him. He's been helping me and he had the nerve to tell me I couldn't help them. That I'm too little to understand or possibly be able to comprehend. After I've shown him all I can do and how smart I am. I don't care how pretty his eyes are or how nice his blond hair is. He's still stupid.
Now I just need to find all his pants.
Early Saturday Morning
I have found all of John's pants. I'll show him.
I think he's wearing a pair though.
Too bad I can't burn them while they're still on his stupid arse.
Stupid Mycroft and Stupid Dull John.
I'm going to delete him from my mind forever after this.
He doesn't deserve to be there. He's taking up valuable space.
Saturday
The explosion was brilliant… Though I nearly set the library on fire. All of John's pants are gone… He was rather fond of the color red.
Idiot.
Mummy and Father are due home this evening from their day trip to London. Don't expect you'll have access to your chemistry set for quite some time.
I hate you, Mycroft. Go away. You should have never brought him home.
DON'T LOOK AT THE LAST WEEK EVER AGAIN!Sunday
Mycroft's idiot friend is glaring at me on the way back to school. I haven't even spent any time with them, I have notes from pond experiments. Though Mycroft says I tried to blow up this 'John's' things. I must have mistaken his things for Mycroft's in the dark when I sneaked in to get them.
Oh well. He's just a stupid rugby player.
But I really like his eyes…
John shut the journal and set it aside, shifting in Sherlock's grip. "Stupid, dull… just a rugby player."
Sherlock looked mortified and John was quick to kiss him into silence when he started to apologize. When he pulled away John smiled.
"I didn't realize you knew that you were an Alpha already… I also didn't realize how intelligent you truly were, or how much more advanced than your classmates you were." John stroked Sherlock's jaw. "I love you. I should have let you down easier. I was just trying to be friendly. I didn't realize you'd developed that big of a crush on me."
A small huff escaped Sherlock and he looked annoyed. "It wasn't a crush."
John laughed aloud. "Sherlock Holmes. Alpha mine… that was the very definition of a schoolboy crush."
Sherlock scowled and John kissed it away tenderly.
"Enough of that," John whispered. "You're my mate, even if I do still play 'stupid rugby'."
"You coach rugby." Sherlock corrected as he nuzzled John. "Different… and I rather like seeing you run around showing off the plays for your players if you must know."
John grinned and kissed him again. "Take me to bed and make up for blowing up my pants all those years ago."
"Mm, if I must…"