Like a Fairytale

Once Upon a Dream

"It's almost time for dinner!" his mom shouted back from the kitchen, obviously only spectating while Mrs. Hudson did the actual cooking. Sherlock ignored her, not even relatively hungry, just so happy he could explode three times over.
"He smiled at me, he actually smiled." He said in a rushed whisper as soon as the door was closed, jumping in a pathetic ballet jump and tripping over his feet on the landing. He could tell Redbeard was laughing at him internally, but the dog just lay down on the floor and moaning a little bit. Sherlock was just in his own place of mind right now, so happy he wondered how on Earth he was ever sad.
"Redbeard he wants me to meet him after practice, he's going to look so good." Sherlock muttered, just imagining a sweaty, muddy John sitting under a tree next to him, smiling and laughing at some joke. It made Sherlock flop onto his bed, butterflies flying in his stomach. Redbeard just looked up at him with legit puppy dog eyes, as if asking him to please stop. But Sherlock couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop, John Watson, John, John, John.
"Do you think something could happen between us, do you think I have a chance now?" Sherlock asked excitedly, his voice still in a whisper but he was so nervous and thrilled and ughh... There might be a chance now, John might look at him differently now, what if, what if they're studying in the park and John suddenly starts to lean in? What would Sherlock even do in that situation, would he duck away, kiss the lights out of him, or simply screw everything up and in reality John was just going to do another problem and Sherlock jumped to conclusions? The only thing worse than having a crush was having a crush that knew about your interest, and having that same person be the one to torment you every day and also be the same gender? Sherlock could only imagine the pain and suffering he would undergo if John found out about...that. But what if it turned in his favor, what if one day John does something incredibly adorable and something happens and all the sudden Sherlock blurts out his feelings and John smiles and says he's liked him from the first time he saw him? And then they could get married and adopt a kid and grow old together and just be plain happy.
"Sherlock, how many times do I have to tell you, dinner is ready?" Mycroft's voice growled outside the door, jolting Sherlock from his happy thoughts.
"Coming!" he called, groaning but falling off of his bed and running downstairs where his whole family was sitting, waiting for him to come.
"Sorry." Sherlock muttered, sitting in his chair and serving himself some spaghetti from the large bowl.
"Where have you been?" Mr. Holmes asked sternly.
"In my room." Sherlock said, a little bit nervous now that they were asking such painfully obvious questions.
"Before that." he corrected.
"At the café. And I have to go after dinner; I'm tutoring one of the kids in my math class, involuntarily of course." Sherlock said simply.
"Oh that's great, who is it dear?" Mrs. Holmes asked, smiling passively at her husband.
"Oh, just a stupid football player, you wouldn't know him." Sherlock shrugged. Once again Mycroft glared at him suspiciously, always being able to tell when his little brother was lying.
"Well maybe you can make a friend, have you tried?" she asked.
"No."
"Now why not, unless he's one that bullies you?" Mrs. Holmes asked, suddenly looking worried.
"Oh not this again, it doesn't matter, I'm used to it, so please lay off." Sherlock decided, frowning at his mother.
"I'm not going to lay off Sherlock, my little baby is getting..."
"Oh for god sakes, I'm not a baby, I'm almost eighteen, I can take care of myself!" Sherlock defended, setting down his fork without eating much.
"Sherlock...." She started.
"I'm going to my room." he decided.
"William Holmes you sit in your seat this very instant." Mr. Holmes demanded, slamming his fist against the table, making all the plates rattle. Sherlock's rebellious fire was put out by the use of his actual name, and he sank back into his chair with a scowl. There was uncomfortable silence, but he could tell Mycroft was hiding a smirk the best he could. The rest of the meal was silence, Sherlock barely ate anything and no one spoke, the only sounds were the forks hitting the plates and cups being set down rather forcefully. Finally when dinner was over Sherlock (politely) excused himself, but the moment he was out of the dining room he sprinted up the stairs, hoping to go daydream about John once more, but the high of love had also disappeared with the horror of family time. This was what usually happened anyway, Sherlock just couldn't be around people without making them mad, maybe a reason he had no friends, or simply because he didn't need or want any. He moodily changed into his pajamas, flopping onto the bed with a scowl. Redbeard curled up next to him, stuffing his nose in his shoulder as if that would help calm him down.
"Now I'm mad." Sherlock decided, staring up into his ceiling. Redbeard breathed heavily in annoyance.
"Ya well, goodnight." He snapped, turning off the lights and forcing his eyes to close.