i'll be coming out for christmas

coming home

sherlock relaxed in his seat as his flight got delayed for two hours. he took his phone out of his pocket and decided to call his mom, telling he'd be in later than planned.

once a family with a screaming infant sat next to him, he took out his ear buds and turned his music on, seeing the text:

when you get home we should catch up.

he cleared the text from his notifications then set his phone on his chest, sinking further into his chair as he stared up at the ceiling. he was currently studying at harvard, coming home for christmas break to his small farm town in the middle of no where virginia. he didn't mind go home, but he just wanted to get away. he wanted to leave the small town and make something good out of himself that didn't have to deal with farming or his income depending on the crop season. his phone vibrated and he took it off his chest, looking down at the screen.

don't be a twat, sherlock. i know your flight's delayed the least you can do is text me back.

sherlock opened the text and stared at the grey bubbles from his friend, seeing the three dots appear.

don't leave me on read.

how are you, john?

you know how i'm doing.

not really, no.

if you didn't ignore my texts you'd know.

suppose so.
how's your boyfriend? forgot his name.

james.
and we're fine.

good to hear.

sherlock knew john's boyfriend's name. never left his head. he was jealous of him. jealous that he got what sherlock has always wanted. what he's been in love with since sophomore year of high school. sherlock called himself pathetic and set his phone back down, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, ignoring the vibrations from his phone.

it's been about ten months for john and sholto. ever since john went to tour the university of virginia campus and got hit on by a guy in the library. john came home and went to sherlock, going on and on about the guy in the library and all sherlock could do was sit there and listen. no matter how bad he wanted to tell his best friend he was in love with him. then the rest of their senior year, john was always on his phone texting sholto or asking sherlock on weekends if he could meet sholto halfway so they could go out to dinner while sherlock sat in his car and tried not to cry. during the summer, sherlock spent time away from john, drowning himself in work to ignore his friend. it worked too. sherlock was able to leave for school without saying a long goodbye to john and he hated that, but it was for the best. sherlock didn't want to see him. every time he saw him his heart broke a little more.

by the time sherlock got home, it was past dinner time, but his mom made a plate for him and left it in the microwave, allowing him to eat once he said his hellos.

you're home.
we should hang out.

sherlock stared at the screen of his phone as he mushed his meatloaf with his fork.

"it's meatloaf, not mashed potatoes, son." mr holmes said as he walked over to the fridge.

sherlock stopped and looked at his plate, seeing that he completely mushed his meatloaf and decided he wasn't hungry anymore. he pushed the plate away slightly, feeling like the meatloaf was his heart and the fork was every time he saw or revived a text from john.

"you plan on seein' john?" sherlock's father asked him, cracking open a cold one.

sherlock shrugged. "not sure." he stood up with his plate, going to dump his mashed meatloaf in the trash.