I Know Your Face

Goodbye Indeed

           

"Maybe he's just trying to be cool? You know how some people bring others down for no reason just to raise themselves higher?" John pointed out reluctantly, trying to clear his own name but knowing that there was nothing he could do now, as Victor.
"I just think he genuinely doesn't like me. That's alright though; I kind of ruined his life for a day. But lately he's been ruining my life every day, it's not necessarily fair." Sherlock decided.
"Maybe he likes you." John suggested with a laugh, and Sherlock laughed as well, as if he thought that was the funniest thing in the world. And once again I shall say, oh the irony.
"He doesn't like me, this isn't kindergarten. Besides, he has an equally awful girlfriend." Sherlock pointed out.
"Is he cute?" John wondered. Sherlock just laughed, looking down at John with a laugh. Obviously he didn't see the hope in John's eyes, because he didn't even recognize them as John's eyes.
"He's a jerk." Sherlock muttered, which wasn't much of an answer.
"Ya, alright, but is he cute?" John wondered. "A professional curiosity of course."  Sherlock just sighed, as if he were becoming really uncomfortable dispute the smile on his face.
"Well, professional speaking, I suppose he is. In a jock sort of way, but still I wouldn't hesitate to run him over with my car."  Sherlock admitted.
"Well then, I'm happy I'm not him." John decided, almost laughing at the irony that was in play.
"Yes, I'm happy you're not him as well. You're kinder, gentler, and much more attractive." Sherlock admitted.
"As are you. You're too good for him Sherlock; don't let him get you down. In fact, don't let anyone get you down, ever again. You don't deserve that kind of abuse; you only deserve love, the softest, kindest kind of love, from someone who would want to love no one else but you." John insisted.
"Do you have someone in mind?" Sherlock wondered with a playful sort of smile. A flirtatious smile, one that made John's heart leap in his chest.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I might know a guy." John agreed.
"That's convenient, because I think we have the exact same boy in mind." Sherlock muttered, looking down at John with a soft gaze. John decided that if there was any time that he should kiss Sherlock Holmes, it would be now. But they were walking, that might be too abrupt, wouldn't it? Too forward? What if Sherlock didn't want to kiss him yet, what if he was too scared to start something like that so quickly?
"Would it be inappropriate to kiss you?" John wondered, a sentence that sounded so innocent in his head but so ugly out in the world. As he watched his words dissolve into the cold night air he saw Sherlock just laugh, looking down at the path but continue walking.
"Another time perhaps, Victor. As much as I would love to kiss you, I think that we should take this slow. Isn't that what couples do these days? Take it slow?" Sherlock wondered. John couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed, but as usual, Sherlock was right. This relationship that was blooming, it was magical, it was beyond perfect. If they wanted this flame to keep growing they needed to give it time, or it would burn out too quickly.
"Yes of course, you're right." John agreed shyly, staring at the ground with blushing cheeks.
"Don't take it personally Victor; don't take it as a sign that I'm not interested." Sherlock insisted.
"No of course not, we just met an hour or two ago." John assured with a laugh, trying to make sure this little hiccup didn't disrupt his overall self-esteem. God, he was so close, wasn't he? So close yet so far.
"And yet I feel like I've known you for a lifetime. Or at least I was awaiting your presence. Victor you are most certainly the boy of my dreams, in some ways you are simply too good to be true. So, considering that you are here now, and you really do exist, well, I would like to be cautious." Sherlock muttered. Yes, too good to be true. That is the moto of their relationship, wasn't it? Simply too good to be true. The rest of the night was rather mellow. John was kind of apprehensive now to make any moves or even talk too deeply about their feelings, so they small talked for a while about not much of anything. It was difficult, however, to small talk for someone else. Sherlock kept asking about little things in life, siblings, parent's occupations, pets, and of course John knew none of this. He was starting to become rather good at pulling this fabricated facts out of thin air, and eventually he started to believe himself. He was thinking so much like Victor that it was becoming difficult to even remind himself that he was John. It was around eight when they were turning the last corner of the park, their hands interlocked still, their hearts racing and their eyes drooping. The sun had long since sunk and they were strolling by the light of the street lamps, sleepy smiles on their faces as they prepared to say a final goodbye. As they were approaching the gate, however, Sherlock paused, pulling john off of the path for a moment so as not to be spotted by any passerby. There was a tense sort of moment between them, their hands still interlocked but at an odd angle, they were now facing each other so John felt the need to take Sherlock's other hand as well, just to balance things out. So he did, and Sherlock didn't seem to oppose, and together they stood, nestled in a small little patch of young pine trees and staring lovingly into each other's eyes. John knew this was the end, but he wasn't upset. He had gotten everything out of this night that he had wanted, Sherlock had fallen for the lie, and John had fallen even more in love. All in all it was a magical evening spent with a beautiful boy, so as he stared into the green eyes of Sherlock Holmes, prepared to say his farewell, he wasn't upset. He would go home thinking about all the next opportunities that he could see him, he would write letters of thanks, tell Mary everything that happened, and daydream about the time their lips could finally meet. But obviously that wasn't tonight, so it would let John hope just a little bit more.
"I had a lot of fun tonight Victor; I really enjoy spending time with you." Sherlock said finally, his words fogging up around him in a cloud of affection.
"It was wonderfully Sherlock; you're all I've ever wanted in another boy." John agreed with a shy smile.
"You'll keep in touch of course?" Sherlock wondered hopefully.
"Most certainly. Except now I don't have to sign as your secret admirer." John said with a small laugh.
"We could always text, if that would be more convenient?" Sherlock offered.
"No, my parents patrol my phone every night, checking my messages and all of that. They'd start to suspect." John muttered, trying wildly to make up a lie to avoid the risk of Sherlock realizing Victor's phone number was the same as John's.
"Well that's alright, letters work fine too. Much more intimate." Sherlock decided.
"My thoughts exactly. Besides, your handwriting is so beautiful." John agreed, and that wasn't a lie at all. John's handwriting looked like chicken scratch next to Sherlock's beautiful letters.
"Yes well, I always did like to be beautiful, even at a young age, when I didn't know what it meant." Sherlock admitted rather timidly, as if that was in some way wrong.
"Obviously you did something right." John muttered, and he could see a small blush in Sherlock's cheeks. He didn't know if that was from the chilly night breeze or just because he was flattered, but it suited him, it reminded John that even the most godlike human being is still human in the end.
"Well I suppose I should get going, do you need a ride home?" Sherlock wondered. John just laughed, imagining how destructive a ride home from Sherlock Holmes could be, especially when he was going to be dropped off at John's house instead of 'Victor's'.
"No, my mom is coming to get me." John said with a shrug.
"Do you have your license yet?" Sherlock wondered.
"Yes, I do, but I don't have a car." John lied, thinking to his red hunk of junk parked outside of his house.
"Well I can always drive you whenever. Hopefully I can drive you to our second date." Sherlock said, obviously trying to tell John something with that.
"There will be a second?" John asked hopefully, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.
"Well of course, I think we both enjoy each other's company." Sherlock agreed. "Unless you're opposed to that idea?"
"No, no of course not!" John assured with a laugh, as if Sherlock's modesty was amusing in some way.
"Well then, that's splendid. I think, Victor, that we could have quite a future." Sherlock decided.
"I sincerely hope so." John agreed with a shy little smile. Sherlock just smiled back at him, and for a moment they just gazed at each other, trying to implant the image of the other's beautiful face for times when they weren't together. And then Sherlock began to lean forward, and John prepared himself, he was just about to stand up on his tiptoes for Sherlock to kiss him when he felt Sherlock's lips brush against his forehead ever so softly, as if he dared not kiss him without permission.
"It's alright." John muttered, leaning closer himself. And so Sherlock pressed his lips to John's hairline, well, the wig hairline at least, and for a moment they just stood there like that, their hearts beating out of control. Sherlock's lips were soft, John could already tell that they were going to be amazing to kiss for real, but for now the feeling flowing through his body just from a small forehead kiss alone was enough for him to go numb. It was a beautiful feeling; he could see nothing but darkness and a single white button on Sherlock's shirt, his head tucked so perfectly under Sherlock's chin, perfect enough for him to suspect that the two of them were made for forehead kisses. And just as John was really starting to appreciate the moment they were having, Sherlock pulled his lips away, taking a very deep breath but not pulling away just yet. John could tell he was considering it, he wanted to kiss Victor just as much as John wanted to kiss him, and yet he knew that nothing more would come out of this night. The two of them just had to be patient.
"Well, I suppose I'll see you in school." Sherlock muttered, stepping away so that they were farther away than they've been the entire night. It was a sad sort of solitude, even though Sherlock was standing just five feet away.
"Yes..." John agreed, clearing his throat nervously, his voice forced and squeaky, as if he were about to cry. "Yes of course you will." The simple fact that Victor didn't exist was irrelevant at this point.
"Well then, I suppose this is goodbye." Sherlock decided with a sad sort of smile, tucking his hands into his pockets nervously.
"Yes, I suppose so." John agreed. There was silence, and Sherlock just nodded, obviously not knowing what else to say.
"Goodbye, Victor." He muttered, staring away finally.
"Goodbye Sherlock." John agreed, staring at the lamp lit grass as he heard Sherlock's footsteps retreating down the concrete path. Goodbye indeed.

"Okay, word by word, you promised me." Mary insisted, sitting down on John's bed while John pulled all of the bobby pins out of his hair. It was rather odd, being John again, with a new romantic companion, a new hairstyle, a new voice. It only reminded him how much better it was to be Victor Trevor.
"I didn't promise you, you insisted that I recite the whole thing. And besides, I don't remember every word." John snapped. He didn't quite know how he was going to tell Mary this whole thing without it sounded terribly romantic, I mean sure, she was expecting romance, but he was definitely going to keep some parts out. Parts that might get her jealous nevertheless.
"Well, what happened when he first saw you, was it love at first sight?" Mary wondered hopefully, lounging on John's pillows and watching her boyfriend as he combed out his hair.
"Well he didn't see me at first; I had to flag him down. And yes, I'd say so; the look in his eyes was nothing like I've seen before." John admitted with a small smile, hoping that Mary didn't notice.
"Except, of course, when you first saw me." Mary said with a hopeful laugh.
"No." John muttered quickly, not even realizing he had said it. There was a bit of silence, and for a moment Mary sounded as if she were very insulted.
"No?" she asked quickly. John sighed heavily, not feeling like tiptoeing around Mary while he could be spending this whole night dreaming about Sherlock? Thinking about Sherlock? Writing to Sherlock? He could be spending his time so much more efficiently!
"Well, I couldn't see my face when I saw you, could I?" John pointed out. Mary nodded, obviously accepting this lie.
"No, I suppose not." She agreed in a murmur.
"Anyway, he was nothing like he was at school; he was a completely different person. He was sweet, he was kind, he was actually kind of funny. Like, you would never even believe how he acted around Victor, he was so gentle and soft, it was astounding." John admitted.
"And did you guys kiss?" Mary wondered hopefully, looking at John expectantly and preparing herself to laugh.
"No, we didn't. But that's for the best, right? If I rush it he might suspect something, we need to make this seem like a real relationship, not just a prank." John insisted. Mary nodded, of course he was right, but that wasn't the real reasoning.
"That's good thinking, yes. Do you think he wants to though? Do you think the poor boy is just gasping for his first true kiss?" Mary wondered.
"I'd say so, yes. I think he's in need of a good kiss from a nice gay boy." John decided.
"Sorry John, but it seems that boy is you." Mary pointed out, laughing as if that wasn't what John wanted as well. Yes, how upsetting, he would have to kiss the beautiful Sherlock Holmes; oh this was quite a tragedy!
"It seems so." John said, forcing a great sigh as he patted down his hair and turned back to Mary.
"So how was he though, did he suspect? Did he fall for it?" Mary wondered.
"He was fine; he didn't ask any questions, he didn't seem suspicious. We  actually talked about me; he said that the star soccer player bullied him." John muttered, hoping that Mary would take some sort of human approach to this. But alas, she just laughed, laughed as if this were some great joke.
"Oh poor Sherlock, he doesn't even know the worst of it!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands in joy. John couldn't help but scowl, looking away from his demonic girlfriend and longing the pleasant presence of Sherlock. Maybe his parents were right after all; maybe Mary really was a bad person.
"So, he's in love then, he's taken the bait?" she wondered. John nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his distance.
"Mary how are we going to break the news? What do you plan to do, and when?" he wondered. Mary sighed, thinking for a moment.
"I have no idea. Definitely once he's properly engulfed, before prom though." She decided.
"Why before prom?" John wondered. Mary laughed, as if this were obvious.
"Because obviously he'd expect Victor to go with him, and you can't be Victor if you're taking me!" Mary exclaimed. "Besides, nothing hurts more than seeing everyone loving someone else when your own love was never even real."
"Alright, but how?" John asked, ignoring Mary's last comment because it was just too hateful. To imagine Sherlock suffered that kind of pain, it actually hurt John to think about it. Sherlock was too precious and pure and damaged to undergo even more torment.
"Well I'm thinking a dramatic reveal, in front of the whole student body. I'll think of it more later, but I know it has to be public, and I want to send him off crying." Mary decided with an evil smile.
"Not that I'm arguing, but why do you want him to suffer so much? He was the one that snitched on me, why does that bother you so much?" John wondered, looking for a legitimate excuse for this immorality. Mary sighed, thinking for a moment as if trying to find something to justify herself, but obviously she came up with nothing. She just laughed for a second, shrugging guiltily.
"It's fun." She decided finally, and John felt his stomach jolt. To find amusement in another person's pain, a person so pure, that was almost sickening. But then he remembered that he was part of this plot too, that he had the same mindset as Mary before he had truly gotten to know Sherlock. That says a lot about firs impressions, and a lot about humanity as a whole.