The Martyrs of Mischief

Chapter 4

You might want to go and read the previous chapter before reading this one, because I messed up and posted to wrong one before. So yeah. Sorry about that. Here goes, anyway :)

Lunchtime found John standing in the blistering heat that was raining down onto the school field, rucksack slung haphazardly over one shoulder and corned-beef sandwiches wrapped in cling film in his hand. With no Sarah to snog, and no Sherlock to get up to mischief with, he ended up bored and alone. His wrist prevented him from participating in rugby tackles through fear of making it worse, under the order of the PE Teacher.

He pulled off his blazer and stuffed it into his bag before beginning his slow walk around the perimeter of the field. White Belisha beacons stuck out against the longer strands of grass of which the caretaker had failed to cut properly; they served as excellent kicking material.

"What've the dandelions ever done to you?"

John looked up to find Sherlock staring down at him from one of the lower branches of a large oak tree that made up the corner of the field. His legs dangled down from the branch from which he was sitting, swinging as he leant forward in order to see John better. John looked up and grinned.

"What're you doing up there?" He asked, ignoring Sherlock's question.

"I'm on a case." Sherlock shrugged. He paused, and then said: "Come up if you want."

John decided to glide over the fact that Sherlock had said that he was on a 'case', and copied Sherlock in shrugging before striding towards the bottom of the trunk and began to climbing up it. Sherlock slid further down the branch to make room for John as he positioned himself into a suitable sitting position.

They were about three metres from the ground, and surrounded by a thicket of green leaves with small acorns poking through the tufts. The sun shone through the higher branches, causing speckles of shadows and light to dance across their faces as the wind swayed the tree.

"So..." John started, rocking backwards and forwards on the branch with his hands pressed firmly under his thighs. Sherlock looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "What kind of music do you like?"

Sherlock blinked.

"Music?" He queried, the corners of his lips curling upwards slightly at the question.

"Yeah." John readjusted himself so he was facing Sherlock properly. "Singers, bands... Musicals? What do you listen to?"

"It's not really..." Sherlock shuffled awkwardly on the branch, looking down at the twig plastered grass below as he did so. "You'll laugh."

John furrowed his brows, but it was in a sympathetic sort of way. As Sherlock tilted his body away, John followed suit so that he was mimicking Sherlock's movements. He found himself edging slightly closer to him, and couldn't help but notice the grass stain that lined the back of Sherlock's shirt. Apparently he'd had to have more than one attempt at climbing the tree.

"No I won't," John reassured him. "Just tell me."

Sherlock took a deep intake of breath before speaking. "Well, I quite like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata." He reasoned, but the moment he said it he looked as wish he hadn't. John's expression was unreadable.

"At least it's not Justin Bieber," John laughed, and Sherlock cocked his head to one side.

"Who?" He asked, apparently afraid that John was laughing at him.

"No, he's a..." John stopped laughing. "Doesn't matter..."

He watched as Sherlock pivoted himself on the branch so that he was back to facing him. "Alright then," he said, somewhat defensively. "What music do you listen to?"

The next few minutes passed by slowly, with John's arms flailing about as he excitedly told Sherlock all about his favourite songs. Sherlock listened with interest, keen to hear about what John classified as 'excellent music'. After around five more minutes of exuberant hand gestures, John pulled out his phone and earphones, plugged them in and handed one of them to Sherlock.

"Stick that in your ear," he commanded, and Sherlock gave him a curious expression before doing so. "This beauty is by Paul McCartney, and it was released in 1973 when the film that shares the same name, 'Live and Let Die', was also released." He hurriedly jabbed the play button with his thumb, before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

That was the first song they listened to. Through the course of the playlist-session, Sherlock had some how come to be resting his head on John's shoulder as the leant up against one another. He wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but John found that his arm had snaked around Sherlock's shoulder, and their feet swayed in unison- as did their breathing.

However, the tranquillity didn't last as long as John would have liked it to, for the sound of hushed voices came floating up towards them in their heights of the tree. John lifted his head up (which had been resting on Sherlock's), and nudged him. What would people say if they were spotted sharing headphones and leaning up against one another while sitting in a tree?

"Shh... This way..." John's heart leapt as Sarah's voice wafted into his ear drums, and he was about to call out to her when something changed his mind.

"What about John?" Came a new voice. John gave Sherlock a quizzical look, but he didn't return it. Instead, he looked down awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it, he's probably with those rugby nuts." Sarah soothed her companion, and John's stomach rolled over.

"I just don't think it's right, he's your boyfriend..." The other boy said, but whatever the rest of his argument contained was lost as his mouth collided with Sarah's.

Sherlock swore as John began hastily climbing back across the tree branch, desperate to catch him up. "John..." He whispered, urgently. "Please..." But the sound of John lightly landing at the trunk of the tree told him that his reasoning was worthless. He hurriedly clambered down the tree, ready to defend his friend in the inevitable argument.

The earphones were left dangling from the tree branch.