Like a Fairytale

My Very Old Friend

"Do you have any dogs?" Sherlock asked. He knew the answer of course, but he didn't want to sound like too much of a stalker.
"Ya, two annoying Yorkies that I could throw down the garbage disposal." John grumbled.
"Oh..." Sherlock said, suddenly feeling a bit sick.
"Not like I actually would, but imagine trying to sleep and then something in the house moves and they both go on yipping and yapping and making all this noise." John groaned, staring down at his sandwich with dislike. "But when they're quiet I guess their pretty cute." Sherlock nodded, but he was more focused on just how close they were. Normally close quarters were nice for Sherlock, he felt somewhat safe, but with John it felt a million times better.
"Does Harriet like them?" Sherlock asked, remembering John's sister.
"The only thing Harry likes is punk music and death. She locks her door half the time; I don't have a clue what she's up to." John shrugged. "What about Mycroft?"
"He likes stock markets and taxes and business suits; I don't think he sees Redbeard as more than a footstool really." Sherlock grumbled.
"There's another thing we have in common, annoying siblings." John decided.
"He came to pick me up when Mary knocked me out, at the nurses' office. It's lucky you left when you did." Sherlock pointed out.
"Was he tall, skinny, did he have an umbrella?" John asked.
"That would be Mycroft." Sherlock agreed.
"Then I did see him, walking down the hallway, he glared at me so hard you'd think I'd killed his grandparents." John laughed.
"Yep, that's Mycroft." Sherlock sighed. "Sorry if he was creepy, he hates the Watson family."
"And if my parents saw you they'd beat you up more than Anderson." John pointed out. "But I don't mind Holmes'. Actually, I think they're quite cute." John assured, poking Sherlock's arm with his outstretched foot playfully. Sherlock blushed furiously, but he smiled, John had just called him cute.
"Watsons aren't that bad either I suppose, they're actually pretty attractive." Sherlock shrugged. If he was correct, that was the first time he had ever complemented John like that.
"Oh well this is embarrassing, I was talking about your brother." John said, and for a moment Sherlock's heart stopped and his face paled. John didn't like him, he liked Mycroft? But soon the boy broke out into laughter. "Oh my god, you don't have to look so scared I was joking!" John laughed. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief, that might have been the single most horrifying moment of Sherlock's life.
"Thank God." Sherlock mumbled. John was still laughing slightly, way too adorable to be allowed in fact.
"No, you're brother is terrifying, you on the other hand...." John said, leaving the end of his sentence to the imagination. Sherlock smiled shyly, John was actually telling him that he was attractive; this was one of the single best moments of Sherlock's sad life. Except, of course, the bleachers, he was sure nothing could beat that. Sherlock was going to say something, he really was, probably something along the lines of trying to tell John how attractive he was but stumbling over his words, but the bell rang, catching him completely off guard. John cursed suddenly, both of them had lost track of time, and now were both frantically stuffing things into their lunch boxes.
"You go first." John decided. "I'll be a little bit after, see you in math class." Sherlock nodded, zipping up his bag and slipping through the crack in the stairs. There were still no people in the halls, but he could hear them coming from the cafeteria, loud as a pack of elephants and probably just as annoying. Sherlock slipped easily around the crowd without turning any heads, throwing his lunch in his locker and walking slowly to math class. He saw John coming now, joining his little pack of losers with wide smiles and questions about where he was all of lunch. Sherlock wondered just how he would answer that, no one ever asked him so he really didn't have a cover story. He walked into math class, where Mrs. Pines was already writing some complicated looking problems on the board.
"Good afternoon Sherlock." She said pleasantly, turning her head so that she could see who had come in. Sherlock just grunted in approval, sitting silently at his desk and waiting for John to come. A couple of minutes later everyone else started filing in, and one of the last groups, the largest of course, contained John, who was trying to win a mobile arm wrestle verses Greg on a textbook Anderson was holding. It might have gone his way if he hadn't bumped into the door frame and stumbled, letting Greg take hold and pin him arm to the book. There was a loud commotion, which was quite unnecessary, but the entire celebration was cut off when Mrs. Pines cleared her throat, a clear sign for all of them to take their seats and shut up. The rest of the class was already seated, looking at the small parade of people with very judging faces.
"Sorry ma'am." John muttered, slipping quietly into his seat. Sherlock really had to contain a smile as the rest of them sat down, not just because they got busted but because John was sitting way closer than necessary, their shoulders almost touching. Sherlock was slightly worried that someone might pick up on this themselves, but no one was looking at them as Mrs. Pines started up her lecture.