Smoke & Mirrors

Chapter 2~ Definitely Not Girls

Sherlock

Mycroft stalked from the room with as much dignity as one can gather in striped boxer shorts and a white vest. Sherlock choked back a gleeful chuckle, and his mother just shook her head. The bathroom door could be heard slamming shut, and then the hiss of the shower.

“At last, he’s gone. Mummy, shall I fetch my equipment?” Sherlock dragged out his words reluctantly, mocking his mothers’ title. She did not pick up the sarcasm in his tone, and nodded, smiling.

“Yes, Sherlock, dear. Thank you.” He nodded once and glided from the room. From the hall, he grabbed his dark satchel containing his books and jogged upstairs to retrieve his laptop, and placed all his gear on the table he learned at. Idly, he tapped his feet and hummed as he awaited Mycroft’s return.

John

John only stopped running when he reached the end of the street. He plugged in his headphones with shaking fingers, and slipped the buds into his ears, letting his music carry him far from where he was walking.

Choke, tried to wash you down with something strong. Dry, but the taste of blood remains…

Cold, empty mattresses and falling stars - My, how they start to look the same…

He trailed his feet to the slow beat of the song, letting the vocals wash his mind clear. Moriarty’s smirking face swam up into the lens of his mind’s eye. Gay faggots like you… John frowned in confusion, and shook it from his mind hurriedly. It didn’t matter, really. He shrugged his backpack into a more secure position on his shoulders, and turned up his best friend’s street. He pressed the doorbell, as he did every morning. And as happened every morning, pounding feet could be heard thudding down the stairs and reaching the door.

“MUM!” From behind the door came muffled yells. “WHERE’RE THE KEYS?! Oh, right. THANKS!” The door clicked open, and then Ben was grinning back at him widely. “Morning, John!” Ben’s hair was messy and he was still in his tracksuit bottoms and a baggy printed t-shirt.

“Hello.” John smiled at him, suddenly shy. He stepped into Ben’s welcoming home, half-expecting the smell of fresh bread to wash over him. “Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” John whispered hurriedly.

“C’mon up then, mate, no sense in hanging around down here!” Ben turned at that moment and vanished to the back of the house. John was grateful, as he felt a blush invade his slightly freckled cheeks. Gay faggots like you - NOT GAY! John rubbed his forehead anxiously and followed his best friend through to his room.

As he cautiously entered the blue-painted bedroom draped in movie posters, Ben was stripping off his shirt. John’s eye started to travel down to… Not his face and he averted his eyes quickly. Ben frowned, concerned, but said nothing as he donned his uniform quickly.

“Okay, that’s me, mate. What’s up?” John looked at him again quickly, and shook his head frantically.

“Nothing, I-“Ben startled him by cupping his chin and forcing the smaller boy to look at him dead-on. John squirmed uncomfortably under Ben’s scrutiny.

“Mate. You can tell me.” John blinked.

“I really am fine, just Moriarty-“ Oops. John clapped a hand over his mouth and ran from the room, leaving Ben’s hands empty and his mood slightly deflated. He cared for John in not-just-a-friendly-way, much to his great regret, and he knew John didn’t feel that way back. Why else would he run? Ben sighed, and followed, grabbing his bag on the way and adopting a fake smile.

“Right, mate. Let’s go.” John gave him a brisk nod, and slipped out reluctantly. He loved being in a functional home, but it never could last long…