A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you all are enjoying this. Reviews are always appreciated!
Harry is back by Monday, along with her friends. They're loud and annoying and it's too early, so John dresses quickly and goes downstairs.
"Johnny Buddy!" Harry yells as he enters the kitchen. She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight. "How was your weekend, Johnny?"
He pushes out of his sister's grasp, wondering why she's even hugging him. "Fine," he simply states, annoyed that he's even awake. It's still dark outside, and after staying up late to finish his homework, he wants to sleep a little bit longer before school.
John goes through the kitchen to get his backpack off the table before leaving the house. He tries to be quick, avoiding the girls (catching Clara's flirtatious smile), but Ben is standing at the table and grinning at John.
"Where you going, Johnny Buddy?" Ben mockingly asks.
John is too tired to demand Ben not call him that. "Out."
"Going to Sherlock's?"
John glances at him once, then grabs his bag and turns his back.
Ben follows him out of the kitchen. "That boyfriend of yours is an interesting character John," he says.
John nods as he grabs his coat.
"I quite like him," Ben adds.
John glares and pulls his coat on.
Ben holds his arms up in surrender. "I didn't mean anything by it, John. He's just…interesting. You're lucky."
"Thanks," John mutters, opening the front door.
"Hope to see you both around," Ben says as John slips out the door.
It's cold and dark. John wants absolutely nothing more than to sleep. Going to Sherlock's this early really isn't a big deal, not since three summers ago when Harry did nearly this same thing and Clement found out.
She'd been out all night with her friends when she decided to invite the whole party home. It was three in the morning when they got in, and they woke John up in the process. After Clement heard John telling Sherlock about it the next morning, he asked to speak to John privately.
"John, I hope you know you're welcome here at any time," Clement had said. "Even at three in the morning on a school night."
John had felt terribly embarrassed. "You heard that?"
Clement just nodded. "I want you to be safe, John, even from your sister. I don't know the people at your home, and you certainly don't either. If it happens again, you either call me directly or just come here, ok? You still have a spare key from snake-sitting for Sherlock last year, right?"
John nodded, even though he had lied last year and said he lost the key.
"Use it, ok?"
John nodded again, then Clement hugged him.
John's had to take the offer twice since then, both for less extreme times (needing a quiet place to study but the Holmes family being out and once when Harry and John's mother were fighting in the middle of the night). He knows it's not a big deal that he go to their house, so he quickly walks the four blocks over.
Relief washes through John as soon as he lies on the sofa; it's quiet, he's warm, and the pillow smells like Sherlock.
He wakes a while later and the sun is shining like a halo around fluffy black hair. John immediately smiles.
"What are you doing?" the halo figure asks, then shifts out of the line of the sun.
John squints and rubs his eyes.
Sherlock, the halo figure, leans forward and lays his head on John's chest. John continues smiling and runs his fingers through Sherlock's hair.
"I missed you yesterday, so I needed to be here when you woke up," John says instead of the truth.
Sherlock knows he's lying, not only because that's a really absurd reason to be sleeping on someone else's sofa, but because John's voice is rougher when he's lying. He decides not to push it, having learned a long time ago that if John wants you to know something, he'll tell you without having to lie first.
"How was your day with your mum?" Sherlock asks instead.
"Fine," John says. "We went grocery shopping and did laundry."
Sherlock nods and closes his eyes. John happily pets his head and refrains from pulling Sherlock onto the sofa with him. He longs to hold Sherlock, to feel comfort, but both know how uncomfortable they are with being intimate in anywhere the family usually is.
Finally, Sherlock sits up again. "I'm sure you're hungry," he tells John. "My dad is making you eggs."
John smiles and sits up.
"And my dad wants to know if we want a ride to school or if we were planning to walk. And I was hoping you could come over this afternoon to help me with an experiment."
"Of course," John mutters, putting his shoes on.
"And I was wondering if we could go to the museum tomorrow to see the new exhibit about plants. And—"
John decides to shut him up. He grabs Sherlock's hand as Sherlock is about to stand up and instead pulls Sherlock to kneel between his legs. He wraps his arms around Sherlock's neck and hugs him tight.
"Thank you," he whispers.
Sherlock buries his face in John's neck and hugs back despite their usual 'no-P.D.A.-in-the-sitting-room' rule. He knows John didn't have a very good morning and he knows John needs a hug. Not that he ever needs an excuse to hug John, especially feeling the need to be closer to John since Saturday morning.
When they pull apart, John places a hand on Sherlock's jaw and gives him a long, soft, close-mouthed kiss. He kisses Sherlock's nose when they part and Sherlock smiles.
They go to the kitchen for their breakfast, and Clement is very happy to see John. He doesn't ask John why he's there, he doesn't make John feel uncomfortable about the situation, he just hands John a plate and tells him to dig in. John does so without question, hardly ever being able to eat breakfast before school. He sits to eat and hides a smile when he catches Sherlock allow his father to kiss his temple.
After breakfast, John waits for forever while Sherlock gets ready, then they leave for school. They decide to walk because they want some alone time before school.
"So," John starts as they're walking. "How was your weekend?"
"Fine," Sherlock states. "I had to have lunch with Mycroft yesterday."
"Oh? How was that?"
Sherlock shrugs. "My dad made me be nice. He told me I had to say one nice thing to Mycroft before our lunch ended."
John chuckles at that. "Because it'll kill you to be nice to your brother."
Sherlock glares at him. "Like you and Harry are loving towards one another."
John shrugs. "Harry and I are different. You and Mycroft will care for each other to death, though."
Sherlock shakes his head. "It's not caring John, it's—"
"Yeah, yeah, competition, whatever."
Sherlock doesn't say anything.
"What did you and Mycroft talk about?"
"School."
"Again?"
"He still wants me to go."
"You know how I feel about it."
Sherlock stops on the sidewalk. "Why is it so hard for everyone to understand that I don't want to go to university?" he nearly shouts. "School isn't for me, John. It never has been! I only go because you're there, but if I didn't know you then I'd have left years ago."
"Sherlock, Sherlock," John places his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. "University will be different, ok? People there are different, more mature. They're not the pricks we go to school with now, ok? They're nicer, they'll see how amazing you are."
Sherlock frowns deeply and doesn't say anything.
John wraps his arms around Sherlock and pulls him close. He aches throughout his entire body for Sherlock; he can practically feel Sherlock's anxiety. "It'll be ok, Sherlock. I'm behind whatever you choose to do. I want you to go with me, but I won't tell you what to do because I want you to still love me."
Sherlock chuckles. "I know, John."
John pulls away and holds Sherlock at arm's length. "I love you. Do what makes you happy."
Sherlock nods.
John leans in and kisses his cheek, then feels someone kick the back of his thighs. He's about to turn around and shout, but he turns around to the grinning face of Brady, his other best friend.
Brady grins. "Scared ya?"
John shakes his head and cracks a smile.
"How's it goin', guys?" Brady asks, beginning to walk down the sidewalk.
Sherlock doesn't say anything. John knows that it's not that he doesn't like Brady, it's that he thinks Brady doesn't like him. This theory goes back to primary school when John met Brady. Sherlock knew Brady wanted John to be his best friend, but John always migrated back to Sherlock's side. Sherlock knows Brady's always been jealous, but John insists Brady doesn't show it. Now, John likes to spend equal time with both of them, for they're both equally his best friend.
"It's goin'," John replies, then asks Brady how his weekend was after the party.
They get to the school a few minutes later, and John discreetly kisses Sherlock's hand before they part ways. John hates this part of his day the most, having to leave Sherlock. He feels like a part of him is missing when Sherlock isn't with him. The happiness he feels when he even passes Sherlock in the halls is more like relief; like taking a deep breath after being stuck under water. And knowing how much Sherlock hates just getting out of bed to go to school, he knows Sherlock feels the same way.
John knows this isn't because they're boyfriends. It's not because they want to be able to kiss and hug whenever they want. He knows that it's because he and Sherlock are meant to function better near each other.
Sherlock and John rarely interact at school. They say hello in the halls, they share smiles and glances, but they hardly ever stand around to talk, and they definitely don't show any signs of being in a relationship. As a matter of fact, only a few of John's friends even know about them. The few people who know are nice and supportive, so for that John is thankful.
The other friends who don't know about them, John has still asked for them to be nice to Sherlock. John figures that if there are at least a few people in the school he can get to be nice to Sherlock, he'll do it.
Sherlock's learned over the years how to keep his mouth shut at school. With the aid of John and, really, the cruelty of kids around him, he's adapted to being the lonely quiet kid who sits in the back of the classroom.
Sometimes, however, he's not.
There's a small group of kids who really don't like him. Their leader is Vince, and unfortunately he's in four of Sherlock's classes. His last name begins with H as well, which means he sits directly in front of Sherlock for two of those classes.
Today, Vince is on a mean streak. All day he's been picking on Sherlock, and by last period Sherlock is just about done with holding it together while Vince torments him.
"What's up, Freak?" is the first thing he says to Sherlock when they meet for the fourth time that day. "I missed you in my last class, I didn't have a nerd to pick on."
Sherlock doesn't say anything, of course, even though he wants to. He ignores it, for "freak" and "nerd" isn't the worst Vince has ever called him.
The second thing Vince does is more awful to Sherlock because the teacher doesn't do anything. All the students are asked to pass their papers to the front of the room, and when Sherlock passes his to Vince, Vince crosses out Sherlock's name on the top and writes "Freak Holmes". Him and his friends around them laugh, and Sherlock's cheeks burn red with embarrassment. It doesn't help that the teacher only says, "Vince, writing on Sherlock's paper like that isn't nice!", which causes curiosity to spark within the rest of the class, which causes Vince to announce what he'd done.
Everyone laughs, and Sherlock's stomach turns with anxiety from unwanted attention. Everyone chimes in to call him names, the teacher tries to quiet them, everyone is too loud, everyone is looking at him.
Sherlock spills the first thing he can think of to say, "Just because your older brother abuses you doesn't mean you have to torment me like this, Vince."
He says it so low that only a few people hear. Vince does, though.
"What'd you just say to me, you little freak?"
Sherlock opens his mouth to repeat it, but Vince quickly stands and grabs Sherlock's shirt collar in one motion. He pulls his arm back, his hand in a tight fist.
"Vince!" their teacher yells, making her way through the small sea of students now formed around them. She yells at Vince to stop again, and this time he does.
"You'd better watch your back, Holmes. I'll really fucking hurt you next time."
Everyone begins to calm and return to their seats, but kids around them start to mutter stuff like, "Geez, Sherlock, he was just kidding with you, you don't have to say such awful things..."
This, of course, sets him off. How people could possibly think he was in the wrong is enough to make his blood boil.
He buries his face in his arms and takes many deep breaths, although it's not helping because he's just breathing back his own air. He tries his best not to cry; the last time he cried things were much, much worse.
"Oh fuck," he hears one of Vince's friends say. "Vince, you made him cry again."
Everyone laughs louder, and this time their teacher yells to get them to stop. They finally do and she goes on with the lesson, leaving Sherlock alone to gather himself before joining the rest of the class.
Sherlock uses the rest of the class period to compose himself enough to be able to walk out the doors unnoticed. Crying attracts far too much attention.
As much as he needs John, he decides to leave as soon as the bell rings instead of waiting for John like he would. He knows John will find him, they'll be reunited shortly, but he can't find John while he so badly just needs to go home.
Sure enough, twenty minutes after Sherlock gets home, there's a light knock on Sherlock's bedroom door. He doesn't need to tell whoever it is to enter, for he hears the door open seconds later.
"Sherlock, love?" John softly asks, as if testing the waters. He quietly shuts the door and goes to the side of the bed that Sherlock is facing. He kneels to be eye level with Sherlock.
"How do you feel?" John asks.
Sherlock shrugs.
"Do you want something to eat or drink? I know how to make hot chocolate just like your dad makes."
Sherlock shakes his head.
John's at a loss. He wants to badly to make Sherlock feel better, but he doesn't know how.
When he's about to give up and just climb into bed with Sherlock, hoping it'll help, he gets an idea. He announces that he'll be right back, then leaves.
Downstairs, between the sitting room and the dining room, there is the grand piano. When Sherlock was younger, he would hide under there when he felt the need to hide. Clement would pretend he couldn't find Sherlock, knowing that if Sherlock was under the piano, he needed some alone-time.
John knows this story and hopes it will help with making Sherlock feel better. He blows up a mattress he finds in the hall closet, then gathers all the pillows and blankets he can find. The bed under the piano is nice and warm and soft, and he hopes Sherlock will like it.
John finds Sherlock in the same position in bed nearly twenty minutes. "Hey, feeling any better?"
Sherlock shakes his head.
"Well, I made you a nice, cozy bed under the piano. Do you want to go try it out?"
Sherlock is about to say no, but he pauses, thinking of how relaxing it used to be under the piano. He slowly nods, and John helps him out of the bed.
They get downstairs and Sherlock climbs under the piano and into the cozy retreat. John helps cover him, getting him nice and comfortable, then kneels next to him.
"You ok? You want something to eat or drink? Something to read?"
Sherlock shakes his head.
"Do you want me to go?"
Sherlock harshly shakes his head.
John nods and climbs under the piano himself, only he stays above the covers because he doesn't want Sherlock's dad to be upset about them both being under the blankets.
"Do you want to tell me what really happened?" John asks after a long, silent while. "I heard Vince's side of the story and I'm absolutely sure you didn't start it."
Sherlock shrugs. "Does it matter?"
His voice is so soft and low and breakable that John wants to cry for him. It's not often anymore that Sherlock is this upset, and John hates it.
"No," John says, brushing a curl out of Sherlock's eyes. "It doesn't. I just don't want you to keep it bottled up inside you, love."
Sherlock doesn't say anything for a few minutes. John runs his fingers through Sherlock's hair.
They're silent for a long time. Sherlock's head is resting a few inches above John's, so much that he can see over John's head and out the large glass door leading to the back deck. The snow is lightly falling and it's still plenty light out, so it's very bright beyond the door. It calms Sherlock, makes him happy.
John begins to think that talking about why he was on Sherlock's sofa this morning will help speed the process along of Sherlock talking about what happened at school. So he does.
"Harry and her friends got home this morning at four. That's why I was on your sofa. They were drunk, they were loud, and I didn't want to be there anymore. And…something else happened that I didn't tell you."
Sherlock's gaze shifts down to John, indicating that he's listening.
"Harry's friend Clara…" John distractedly plays with the edge of one of Sherlock's blankets. "Well, I thought they were together, you know? I thought..." John sighs, then continues, "Anyway, she…she kissed me the other night. I didn't want to kiss her, obviously. She just…came at me…really forcefully, actually…and Harry saw so she ran over there and…she pushed me away. She wasn't even upset with Clara, but…Harry pushed me. Really hard. I have a bruise…I didn't even do anything, Sherlock, I swear."
John looks up at Sherlock and sees that his expression hasn't changed
"Are you upset with me?" John asks, fearful.
Sherlock shakes his head.
"Not even for her kissing me? I didn't want her to Sherlock, I promise."
Sherlock says the first thing he's said almost all afternoon. "I know."
John rubs Sherlock's side over the blankets. He rests his hand on Sherlock's hip.
"I told Vince something I shouldn't have," Sherlock nearly whispers minutes later. "Actually, a lot of people heard."
"What'd you say?" John curiously asks.
"I told him that just because his brother abuses him, he doesn't have to torment me the way he does. I shouldn't have…I just…"
John shushes him. "He was hurting you. At least you didn't punch him or something."
"So…you're not mad that I said that?"
John shakes his head. "Maybe you could have handled it differently, maybe just left the room or something, but no I'm not mad, Sherlock. I'm relieved that he didn't seriously injure you."
Sherlock nods and looks out the window once again.
"Is that all that happened?"
Sherlock shrugs. "Everyone laughed. They made me look like the bad guy, John, like I was in the wrong. But their laughter…" Sherlock closes his eyes and bites his lip.
"That hurts the worst?"
Sherlock slowly nods.
John rubs Sherlock's side again. "I'm so sorry, Sherlock."
Sherlock takes a long, slow, deep breath. "I can't go back, John. I don't want to go back there."
John pauses, feeling instantly afraid. "I can't possibly be away from you, Sherlock."
"You can still see me after school and on the weekends. I'm not going back there, John."
John shifts closer to Sherlock. "No, Sherlock, please? Just switch out of Vince's classes, there's openings in most of my classes. Just…we'll find a better solution, ok?"
"John, I can't—"
"One more chance, Sherlock. Please? Just one more chance."
Sherlock sighs.
John looks up and presses his lips to Sherlock's as softly as he can. He shifts up so they're face to face, nose to nose, looking into each other's eyes.
"I can't be away from you," John whispers. "My heart aches from even thinking about it."
Sherlock presses his forehead to John's and closes his eyes.
"We'll find a solution," John says. "Your dad will know what to do."
Sherlock nods.
They pull apart and readjust in the bed because Clement will be home any minute. When he finds them, he asks for them to come out to talk soon. When they do, they tell Clement everything (about Sherlock's problem, not John's), all while Clement's arm is wrapped protectively around Sherlock. He hugs Sherlock and tells him he'll fix it, then hugs John and thanks him. Then, he takes the two boys to dinner and their evening ends on a much happier note.