Like a Fairytale

Rocky and the Potato Man

    "You've made it up, don't worry." Sherlock assured.
"No I haven't, not in my books." John debated.
"You don't read books." Sherlock debated with a small laugh.
"Oh shut up Sherlock!" John growled, but there was a smile on his face. "Just because you read bloody War and Peace in an hour doesn't mean you can go around shaming people for not enjoying stationary entertainment."
"You watch TV." Sherlock debated.
"That's moving."
"You're not."
"The pictures are so I don't have to. The words on the page just sit there." John pointed out.
"And when you read them they move, and soon you go into this world of the story and it's not words on the page anymore but it's an entire world that only you can see and no one can come into and in the end the hero always wins dispute their flaws and the hero gets the girl and every loose end comes into play. That's why I like reading, because for the shortest time it feels like everything is going to be okay." Sherlock pointed out.
"But you don't want the girl do you?" John pointed out.
"I had this huge rant and that's all you can do?" Sherlock asked, but his serious expression turned into a goofy laugh at John's immaturity.
"Do you?" John insisted.
"Not if there's an attractive guy around." Sherlock agreed.
"You called?" John asked, acting as if he had just arrived because Sherlock needed an attractive guy.
"You don't count, I said attractive." Sherlock debated.
"Shall I get a mirror then?" John asked.
"That's cheesy shut up." Sherlock snapped, laughing.
"You're prettier than cheese." John pointed out, going on with the stupid complements that made Sherlock giggle like a little girl.
"You're a Disney prince." Sherlock debated.
"Well I don't want the girl either." John pointed out.
"I feel bad for poor Cinderella." Sherlock decided.
"Wouldn't be funny if the prince diched her for another prince?" John asked.
"You watched that movie?" Sherlock asked in surprise.
"Of course not, but if you haven't heard the story you haven't had much of a childhood." John debated.
"True."
"Have you?"
"My parents made me watch it once, it was horrid." Sherlock decided.
"Rather be watching what, the History channel?" John laughed.
"Yes." Sherlock admitted.
"That's not something you answer." John debated, laughing anyway.
"Oh, no, of course not, education bad, bad knowledge." Sherlock pretended to shield himself from something, like a vampire burning in sunlight.
"You're such a nerd." John decided. Sherlock smiled guiltily, but the small moment was ruined by the stupid bell going off, marking the end of their amusing lunch time flirting. John cursed silently, stuffing everything in his lunch box and getting up so swiftly he almost mashed his head on the top of the ceiling.
"Well, I guess I'll see you in math then." Sherlock decided, but neither of them made any moves to leave the small corner of a room. Instead, John stood on his tiptoes and planted a kiss on Sherlock's cheek, making the poor boy glow with admiration. John left Sherlock to stumble something, but he seemed to be at a loss for all words. Instead, when John was safely out of the hallway, Sherlock slipped out, glowing red still but he knew he had a class to go to. When he got to math class both John and he were kind of awkward again, but the feel of John's lips on his skin was enough to make him quiet and awkward for a good year once again. Why did John have to sway him so much, why couldn't he react like a normal person? So they sat there in the classroom with no one but Mrs. Pines and a couple of random kids to keep them company, tapping their feet and not saying much. It was almost funny how much Sherlock seemed to not care about who was around him. Right now he had such an urge to kiss John senseless, without any notice to Mrs. Pines and the kids, that he might need to sort out his priorities. Not only would they get in trouble word would spread like wildfire, it didn't matter who saw them. Family, tourists, peers; every group would spread the word until every person in the city would know about their forbidden love. Even the yoga prunes would be peering over the fence to see what was going on. But soon the class started filling in and John was too busy yelling updates of some football game that was played to care much about what Sherlock was thinking. The class went fast, history went slower, and of course the break between school and tutoring was almost unbearable. Sherlock sat on his bed, dangling his feet over the edge and realizing just how lonely he was. There was dog hair all over but no dog to talk to, to cuddle, or to just cheer him up when he most needed it. So when four thirty rolled around Sherlock simply couldn't wait to get out and see John, the only friendly smiling face the world had to offer anymore. He walked down the street, pulling his trench coat around him and getting some odd glances from passing people. Some might have recognized him from their Holmes family stalking, but others might have simply thought a teenager in a trench coat was an odd sight. Well who even cared about them anyway? He walked through the gates, his bag bouncing slightly on his shoulder and the grass, still wet from last night, was soaking water into his dance shoes uncomfortably. John was already sitting at the table, apparently practice had let out early again because he rarely beat Sherlock.
"Haven't seen you in a while." Sherlock commented, sinking into the seat opposite and smiling at him.
"It's been too long anyway." John pointed out, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his forehead as if he knew just how annoyingly attractive that was.
"Did you understand everything in math okay?" Sherlock asked.
"It's math, of course I didn't." John debated, and Sherlock nodded in approval.
"I can see what's so intimidating about it." he agreed.
"No you can't." John debated.
"You're right, I really can't." Sherlock shrugged.
"It's just numbers, not just numbers, numbers that are below what numbers should be, and numbers in between numbers, and infinity numbers, and numbers that go into numbers and numbers going into other numbers and even letters that stand for a number but they can't be bothered to tell you what it is." John growled.
"Math is like an over complicated puzzle. You'll never finish it but it's fun trying to figure it out." Sherlock pointed out.
"How do you find so much joy in learning?" John asked with annoyance.
"How do you find so much joy in being athletic?" Sherlock countered.
"That's different."
"How?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't know, it just is." John debated, but obviously he had nothing to back him up on.
"We are total opposites."
"Opposites attract I suppose." John shrugged. It was right of course, because these polar opposites somehow ended up being star crossed lovers. It's funny how stupid wives tales ended up playing in day to day life.
"Like magnets, obviously you're positive and I am negative." Sherlock pointed out.
"Judging by your usual frown, yes." John agreed.
"I only frown because I'm bored, and kind of angry, but it's not like I...ya never mind." Sherlock sighed.
"So, do you have any math work for me to work on?" John asked, sounding slightly annoyed at having to end the conversation.
"Glad you asked." Sherlock said with an annoying little smile, digging out the worksheets from his bag and laying them out in front of him. I got these from Mrs. Pines after the lesson was over, she seemed thrilled to have me going after more worksheets." Sherlock pointed out, looking over the content so that he knew just what to teach.
"I'd say you like teaching me." John decided.
"I'd say you like being taught." Sherlock agreed.
"For similar reasons no doubt." John said with a flirtatious smile. Sherlock blushed but nodded, obviously they both only liked these tutor sessions because the other one was present. Sherlock was pretty sure he would have a tea party in kid princess dresses just so John would be across the little table, pouring him water from a plastic tea pot.
"Okay, okay, get to work you." Sherlock scolded, pushing the papers closer to John so that he could start doing math and not flirting with him. But it wasn't like Sherlock had a problem with John flirting with him, it was actually quite nice. But John just groaned, starting the math and looking very concentrated. This time Sherlock didn't feel just as guilty watching him considering it was obvious John was on full out flirt mode, probably hoping for another kiss before the day was over. And that would be bloody brilliant as well. Occasionally John would look up at him, catch his dwindling eyes, and Sherlock would look away immediately, blushing like a tomato. But John would just giggle, going back to his work and making Sherlock's stomach twist with admiration. He was just so perfect that it seemed unfair that he had to somewhat compete with him. He felt bad for John that he couldn't be that handsome, and he could never be that funny, or just as confident and attractive as John was. Sherlock was getting so much out of this relationship and John got a potato with a face drawn on in permanent marker. What a deal. When the problems were done, two sheets of them actually, John looked like his brain had been fried out of his socket.
"I hope they're satisfactory." John said with another smile, making Sherlock's heart cry out for mercy. He took the paper and looked over the answers, circling the ones that were incorrect. But he also saw little notes scribbled on the side you're cute when you're embarrassed or Why can't I look at you this long? Every little note that appeared Sherlock blushed like a mad man, but he really, really wanted to do something like hold John's hand or even interlock pinky fingers, anything to show the smallest bit of liking towards one another. And of course he definitely wouldn't mind a good kiss.
"They're um, they're mostly good, a couple of goofs around there but you'll be fine on the next test." Sherlock shrugged.
"What ever happened to your little tests huh? We only had one." John pointed out.
"That was mostly just a trick to get to see you on a Saturday." Sherlock admitted.
"That's adorable." John decided.
"Shut up." Sherlock mumbled. John just laughed, leaning forward in the bench closer to Sherlock.
"What if I told you the only reason I made fun of you was because I liked you?" John asked.
"Then I'd know you were lying." Sherlock decided with a confident smile.
"Oh fine, but wouldn't it be kind of a nice thought?" John asked, slouching back into his chair with a guilty smile.
"I suppose it might have been, yes. And what if I told you that the only reason I never fought back was because when you were beating me up it meant that we were spending time together?" Sherlock asked.
"Then I'd really hope that's a lie, because that's a depressing thought." John decided.
"Ya well, I have a depressing life." Sherlock agreed. John actually looked a little bit sad now, like he was feeling guilty for not paying Sherlock any attention when they were little, or at least no positive attention.
"I am sorry about that, all of it, you never deserved it." John pointed out.
"I don't blame you, I don't really blame anyone, you were just intimidated by me, I was too different, and I get that." Sherlock assured.
"Ya well, I think I should at least repay you the best I can, and then some day we can go give Anderson what he deserves, together." John decided.
"He's bash your brain in."
"He threatened a couple of times, but both of us have our brains intact from twelve years with him." John pointed out.
"He won't go anywhere but prison." Sherlock agreed.
"He's not all that bad of a person either, but he is kind of a jerk." John agreed.
"Well, you've seen the way he treats me, like gum on his shoe." Sherlock grumbled.
"I bet you have an Anderson voodoo doll somewhere in your house don't you, sticking pins in it when you're mad." John laughed.
"I've got one for all of you actually, yours just doesn't get used. I bet you didn't know I was a black magician." Sherlock said, his green eyes flashing dangerously. John suddenly looked worried, as if wondering if Sherlock was lying or not, but the freak burst out laughing. "Did you actually think I did black magic?" Sherlock exclaimed as John did a nervous little chuckle.
"Well how should I know what you do in your free time?" John defended.
"Certainly not worship Satan." Sherlock assured.
"Alright, good." John decided. "Neither do I, if you were wondering."
"Oh, well I had my doubts; I don't know how someone could be so good at everything and so attractive without selling their soul to the devil." Sherlock shrugged.
"He gave me a special deal." John shrugged. Sherlock looked around to see if anyone was listening; it would be especially awkward to assure the common folk that neither practiced dark magic.
"Maybe we should talk about this." Sherlock decided as a little girl on a tricycle rolled past them, the streamers from her handle bars flying crazily in the wind and her pony tail bouncing off of her back.
"Ya, maybe that's for the best." John agreed. They made eye contact, shy little smiles erupting on their faces, and when they locked eyes they both lost the self-control they were trying to keep, bursting out into ferocious giggles. Sherlock felt like a bloody child, but he didn't have time to focus on the way he felt when John was being so darn adorable giggling like a mad man. Finally, when they were able to pull themselves together, they took deep breaths, huffing and puffing and trying to look at least somewhat normal.
"So, uh, do you want to go get dinner?" John asked hopefully.
"Sure, I've got a couple of bucks on me." Sherlock agreed.
"Don't be stupid, I'm buying." John defended, getting to his feet and pulling on his jacket.
"Um, I don't think so." Sherlock insisted.
"Wanna go, huh? I'll fight ya." John said, bouncing up and down with his fists in the air, but he was laughing.
"Oh, now you're Rocky aren't you?" Sherlock asked.
"That's the one thing you didn't know about me. You practice Dark Magic," he pumped his fists in the air a couple of times, still bouncing, "And I'm Rocky."
"You're just stupid." Sherlock decided with a laugh, grabbing his bag. John gave up on his attempts to be intimidating, Sherlock just wasn't buying it, so he grabbed his bag as well and the two of them started to hike towards the main street.
"Where are we even going?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't know, where do you want to go? It's a date, and I'm buying." John decided.
"No you're not." Sherlock snapped.
"You declined my fight, so I'm buying." John insisted, but Sherlock just rolled his eyes.
"How about Angelo's? It's that Italian place down there, not too expensive but the food's pretty good." Sherlock suggested.
"I've never really been there." John shrugged. As they were walking Sherlock felt John's hand catch his mid swing, lacing their fingers gently together and making Sherlock blush the color of a fire truck. He really hoped no one knew them on the streets, because as they walked through the iron gates John didn't release his hand.
"Which way?" John asked, but his voice was softer now that he was holding his hand, as if when they were touching he had to tiptoe around Sherlock to make sure he wouldn't take off again.
"Down here." Sherlock decided, turning and walking farther away from their houses than before, which was actually a nice change. John was leaning into his quite a lot, being the shorter of the two his head was able to lean on Sherlock's shoulder if he wanted to, but it was a crowded street and they didn't know who could be walking down it. It was a little bit of a walk, three or four blocks, but finally they reached the small little restaurant, the sign covered in artificial ugly olive tree branches. Sherlock opened up the door to the restaurant, which wasn't all that crowded considering it was a week day. He knew his parents wouldn't care if he was eating out, it was his money, the only thing they'd care about was the person he was eating out with. The waiter smiled at him, a tallish man with short black hair. In Sherlock's eyes he was kind of cute, but he had the only boy he'd ever want holding his hand.