Secretly I Think You Knew

Black Coffee and Steamrolled Pancakes

"You look very intellectual right now." said a familiar voice next to Sherlock. He looked up to see John standing above him with a smile, looking every bit as beautiful as he always did.
"Thank you, I guess." Sherlock muttered, setting the book down and getting to his feet.
"I saw your brother on the way, that's why I'm late." John shrugged.
"Wait, you saw him? Where?" Sherlock asked fearfully.
"Well, I don't think he saw me, he was driving and I hid behind a trash can." John shrugged.
"In your natural habitat then?" Sherlock decided.
"Oh shut up, it was scary." John insisted.
"I'm glad you're alive." Sherlock assured, skimming the shelves and plucking the book back where he had found it.
"So, should we just stay here for a while, until Mycroft is gone?" John asked.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea, just stay here." Sherlock agreed, looking around the empty shelves as if Mycroft were going to be sneaking, making sure Sherlock was actually working on a project. They both stood rather awkwardly around, john tapping his hands against his legs and Sherlock rocking uneasily on his heels.
"So we should sit then?" John decided.
"Ya, good idea." Sherlock agreed, pretty much collapsing into his chair. John walked over and took the seat opposite, taking a book that was lying on the table and examining it.
"So, I guess Greg kind if hates me now." He decided.
"I'm sorry, if I'm breaking up your bonds with your friends, I don't want to be any trouble." Sherlock muttered.
"God no, it's not you. It's Greg; he's just being an idiot." John assured.
"If you don't want me to be, you know, around as much, I'm fine with that. Honestly, I'll be alright." Sherlock insisted.
"Don't even talk like that Sherlock, I'd give it all up again for you. I have everything, you have nothing, together, we can have each other." John assured.
"That doesn't make much sense." Sherlock decided.
"I'm working on it, alright?" John groaned. Sherlock just laughed, rolling his eyes a little bit and watching as John read the back of the book, obviously just to give his eyes something to do.
"How was your night then?" John asked. Sherlock shrugged, thinking of the drawing in his notebook.
"Oh, you know, same old same old. No violence, if that's what you're asking." He admitted.
"Good. There was actually some verbal violence at my house thought, my sister decided she wants to be a tattoo artist and spend like, a million dollars on art school." John laughed.
"Well, it's an honest profession, there's not really anything wrong with being a tattoo artist." Sherlock assured.
"Yes, but she has no artistic skills whatsoever. Even her stick figures are disfigured; I don't know how anyone would want a tattoo done by my idiot sister." John shrugged. Sherlock just laughed.
"Does she have any tattoos herself?" he asked.
"Not that I know of, but I don't know what she does in her free time." John admitted.
"Seems like quite a person your sister, how much older?" Sherlock asked.
"Only two years, but she seems to think she has supreme authority over me. It's rather annoying." John groaned.
"Well, at least she ignores you." Sherlock sighed.
"Mycroft is what, seven years older than you?" John asked. Sherlock nodded silently, tapping his fingers against the desk and suddenly finding it rather hard to look John in the eyes.
"I'm...I don't want you to think I can't take care of myself John." he muttered. "I can, I mean, I've made it all these years, I've only known you a week and you've been nicer to me than anyone ever has, but I am capable, I'm not helpless."
"Sherlock, I know you're not helpless. God, you're the bravest, most capable boy I have ever met, and I know you can handle yourself. The problem is, I don't want you to. I want to help you get out, I want to help you survive, and I think together we can free you from him." John decided.
"How are we going to do that? I have no other family, I don't want to go to a homeless shelter or an orphanage, how am I going to get away from him?" Sherlock asked.
"You can come live with me." John suggested.
"With you?" Sherlock asked doubtfully.
"Ya, I mean, it'll be great, you can live in the guest bedroom or something." John said with a smile.
"That seems almost as impossible as getting away from Mycroft. How are you planning on doing that as well?" Sherlock asked.
"I'll figure it out, alright? I don't know, somehow I'll manage." John decided. "You're away from him now, aren't you?"
"Yes, I suppose I am." Sherlock agreed with a rather amused laugh. "You're so peculiar."
"Is that a good thing?" John asked.
"Yes it is John, yes it is." Sherlock agreed. John just laughed, looking around as if worried Mycroft was somewhere as well.
"Do you think it's safe to leave then?" he asked. Sherlock sighed, shrugging.
"Probably not." He decided. "Mycroft could've stopped to do some shopping."
"Remind me again what will happen if he catches us?" John asked.
"Bad things John, very bad things." Sherlock decided.
"I can handle bad things." John assured. "What if we just...tell him?"
"Tell him what, that we're hanging out together?" Sherlock asked.
"Ya, I mean, what if we just make him okay with it?" John decided.
"Not going to happen, ever." Sherlock laughed.
"If he thinks I'm bad because he thinks you'll fall in love with me, then how about we just prove you're not in love with me? I don't know; get you a girlfriend or something." John suggested. Sherlock just smiled, John really didn't know how oblivious he was being.
"He hates love in general, not just you. He'll kill that girl, whoever she was." Sherlock insisted. "And how difficult do you think it would be to get me a girlfriend?" he laughed.
"Oh come on Sherlock, don't be so modest. You may be viewed as odd, but that doesn't stop you from being downright majestic." John pointed out.
"Majestic?" Sherlock laughed.
"You know, elegant, beautiful, graceful, kind of like a unicorn in human form." John decided.
"So now I'm a unicorn?" Sherlock laughed.
"In a way, yes." John agreed, laughing at his own stupidity. "I don't know how to describe you Sherlock, but I'm sure the girls would be lining up."
"Let's avoid that if at all possible. In fact, let's just avoid Mycroft and we don't have to go on with girlfriends, confessions, or even unicorns." Sherlock decided.
"Sounds like a plan." John agreed, although he seemed rather disappointed. Sherlock just laughed again, wondering how in the world he could've managed to find such an adorable human being to be his friend.
"It's nice to be out of school for a little bit, yes?" John asked, obviously searching for a conversation starter desperately.
"Yes, very nice, although usually weekends consist of me hiding in my room for most of the day." Sherlock admitted with a large sigh.
"Why do you do that?" John asked with a sort of smile, the light from the window illuminating his face in an angelic way. Oh this boy was simply beautiful.
"What else could I do? Read on the couch? And it's not like there's a TV or anything down there, no, Mycroft things technology corrupts." Sherlock muttered, poking at his backpack with his foot.
"Lots of older people think that, my grandma refuses to get a cell phone purely because she thinks they rot your brain." John agreed with an ashamed laugh.
"Well, Mycroft's not old, so that's not his problem. Maybe he thinks watching romantic TV would make me think I could love someone. Or possibly watching cartoons will make me think I can get run over by a steam roller and get flattened like a pancake." Sherlock laughed. John looked at him for a moment as if not quite sure what he was hearing. Sherlock merely blinked at him, wondering what he could have said wrong.
"You think getting flattened into a pancake is as likely as you falling in love?" John wondered.
"Well, yes, in Mycroft's mind..." Sherlock started.
"I don't care what your brother thinks, what do you think?" John insisted. Sherlock felt his cheeks suddenly start to glow, feeling a bit like a cornered animal.
"I um, I don't know, I've never given much thought to the subject." Sherlock lied, not knowing what else to say. Of course he had thought about love, since he had met John that was the only thing he really could think about, love, what it would be like to be in love, what it would be like to be loved by another person. There seemed to be nothing more mysterious to Sherlock, nothing more tempting to him.
"Would you like to know what I think?" John asked. Sherlock's eyes widened in fear, that sounded almost...flirtatious.
"I, um...sure." He muttered.
"I think you're not a sociopath. You only want to be one; you're being forced to be one. Mycroft's taken your mind and warped it so horrifically that you think it's impossible for you to be in love, or for someone to actually fall in love with you. I think it's incredibly possible, in fact, I'm sure if you just let yourself love you could find that it's actually extremely simple." John suggested. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but nothing came to mind, nothing intelligent at least. Sherlock feared that if he tried to say something all that would come out were small little noises and grunts in the place of words. Finally he took a deep breath, seeing the small smile on John's face, as if he were satisfied.
"What...you've been in love before?" Sherlock muttered.
"No, but I can take a guess how it feels." John assured.
"As can I." Sherlock admitted.
"I thought you haven't given it much thought?" John pointed out.
"I can think of it though, now. I can imagine how it might feel." Sherlock insisted.
"Tell me." John insisted. Sherlock looked down at his feet, worried that if he looked John in the eyes that he would suddenly crack under this pressure. There was a time where John Watson would learn about Sherlock's feelings but now was not this time; he couldn't know what went on in Sherlock's head.
"No. I mean...it's stupid, you wouldn't want to hear it anyway." Sherlock muttered. John sighed, seemingly with disappointment, but nodded.
"I understand. I wouldn't really want to tell anyone my theory either. I just kind of wanted to, you know; see if I'm right or not." John admitted.
"I guess you'll have to find the right person to test that theory with." Sherlock muttered with a forced laugh.
"Yes, I suppose I will." John agreed, sounding a bit thoughtful, as if he had already found the perfect test subject. Sherlock looked up for a split second to see John's beautiful brown eyes gazing right back shamelessly. Sherlock put his head back down as soon as they made eye contact, not wanting John to think that he enjoyed the attention. 

John POV: There was something enjoyable about watching the red blush overcome Sherlock's delicate pale skin. It was a rather guilty pleasure, but a pleasure all the same, to watch Sherlock mutter something quickly and look down at the ground, obviously too flustered to string words together into an intelligent sentence. John loved to do that to the poor boy, although he didn't know why. Maybe he liked it because Sherlock kept going on about he could never be in love and how he could never possibly feel love when every time John so much as mentions a relationship or partnership of any kind Sherlock's cheeks glowed redder than a tomato. Maybe it was because there was something so darn adorable at seeing this want to be machine act so human.
"So, do you think it's safe to go into town now? Possibly get some ice cream or something?" John suggested.
"I'm in more of a coffee mood." Sherlock decided.
"Alright then, coffee." John agreed, getting to his feet and picking up Sherlock's bag from the ground.
"Why'd you bring your backpack?" he wondered, holding it out for Sherlock to take. Sherlock grabbed the strap that was dangling, as if so desperate to avoid any finger overlap. It was odd, yesterday he was making John feel the bruises on his stomach and today he thinks a single finger slip would suddenly bring on Armageddon.
"I should probably go out first. If Mycroft's out there I can play it off, but if he sees you where I'm supposed to be..." Sherlock left his sentence to hang, as if wanting John to fill in the blanks for himself. Of course he could guess, all Sherlock did was insist that Mycroft would somehow murder John if he saw him ever again. John could understand Sherlock's fear of his brother, I mean, who wouldn't be afraid of someone that treated them like a doormat? But he couldn't really understand Sherlock's fear for John. Mycroft wouldn't dare hit someone he didn't know, he could get arrested, he could get fined, so why was Sherlock so afraid? When he said that Mycroft would kill him he was just being dramatic, wasn't he? There was no way Mycroft would actually murder someone. So they walked out of their little bookcase aisle and to the door. John lingered behind, pretending to read flyers on the notice board while Sherlock went to check that Mycroft wasn't anywhere near. After a moment he came back in and gave John a nod, so he could only assume it was all clear. They slipped out of the library together, down the long stairs into the cloudy morning. There was a bit of a chill in the air but it was more refreshing than anything. In fact John rather enjoyed it, especially since Sherlock's cheeks got pink and he wrapped his arms around himself, looking like a cute little polar bear.
"Definitely not an ice cream day." Sherlock muttered, his backpack swinging on his shoulder as he walked through the thin crowds. The town wasn't all that much, but it was the only thing to do on a weekend. There were some older people out for their shopping, middle aged parents dragging along their crying children, but there seemed to be no teenagers. Then again, it was before noon, half of them were probably still asleep. John led the way to the shop since Sherlock didn't seem to know where he was going. He kept gazing at the stores, peering into the windows as if he had never seen such deals as 50% off women's clothes at the thrift store.
"Haven't you been to town before?" John asked as Sherlock gaped at some little poodle waddling along on a leash. Obviously he was too socially awkward to ask to pet it because before long it was dragged away and Sherlock was left to scamper back, looking a bit disappointed.
"Well, not much. Mycroft doesn't like me going to town." Sherlock shrugged.
"Let me guess, too much social interactions when you ask for your size?" John guessed.
"Well, yes." Sherlock admitted shyly.
"So school is pretty much the only time you get out of your house?" John asked. Sherlock seemed to think about that for a moment, but nodded.
"That is a sad, sad life Sherlock. Good thing you've got me." John laughed.
"What are you going to do?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, we're here now, aren't we? I'm taking you to town; we're socializing like normal teenagers." John pointed out.
"Well, yes, I suppose." Sherlock muttered.
"And we're having fun." John insisted with a big, annoying smile. Sherlock simply smiled shyly back, nodding.
"I think that's what a normal person would call it, yes. Fun." He agreed.
"You're so odd Sherlock." John decided.
"As are you." Sherlock agreed. John just sighed, pulling open the door to the coffee shop and leading Sherlock inside. The entire place smelled delicious, like coffee beans and happiness. There were a couple of people mingling around inside, talking with some people they knew or simply sitting in the armchairs, scrolling around on their laptops. Sherlock read the menu board very carefully, as if wanting to make sure he picked the right drink since there were seemingly so many choices. John ordered a medium roast and waited until Sherlock decided on a black coffee.
"You've had coffee before, right?" John asked.
"Yes of course." Sherlock agreed.
"And you know that black coffee is a bit...strong?" he asked, worried that this little twig couldn't handle coffee like that.
"Yes I do, I'm not a child John, I'll be alright." Sherlock assured.
"Alright, alright, just making sure." John muttered.