The Clearing

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Writer's Block is a pain.. I'm so sorry this is several months late... I feel really ashamed, but no matter! This is a short chapter, but I think it might be cute.... I don't know, this is the best I can do for it being about 2 AM....

John's POV

The familiar feeling of adrenaline pumping through my veins nearly overwhelmed me as Sherlock and I ran through the woods. "How much f-farther?" I panted. He cocked his head, letting out a breathy laugh. "We're nearly there, keep it up!" I sighed, and we picked up the pace. Though we've probably been running for five minutes, it feels like hours. I should be in better shape, considering my build and want to be in the army when I leave school.

Sherlock finally stopped a few minutes later, "We're here." I hadn't looked at the surroundings yet, I was busy hutched over, catching my breath.  My eyes were closed, breathing quite heavy. "John?" I looked up at my roommate. His eyes were laced with a hint of concern, but otherwise, his face was as stoic as ever. "I'm fine." I said after a minute paced. After seeing a leaf fly in the slight wind, I finally caught a glimpse at the view. We were on top of a massive hill, which dropped off a bit, almost like a cliff and a pond rested at the bottom. Trees still covered the area, with the exception of the small clearing we were in. "Wow." I gasped.

Sherlock chuckled. "I figured you would like it."

"How did you find this?"

"Well," he started. When you don't like stupid, dense people like I do, you tend to wander where you don't see, or think about them. I would stay in 221B, but the walls still hold traces of the last resident, Peter." He shuddered before continuing. "Last year, I had a fight with my roommate, Anderson. He's probably the dullest person I've ever met. Wait, scratch that, he is the dullest. Anyway, we fought, I left, ran into the woods, found this, and fell in love with it. Now that I think about it, I've never brought anyone else here."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, I mean I could bring people, but I just don't trust them to keep this a secret. Quite frankly, I don't even know why I brought you..." He stared at me, judging my reaction carefully. I would have said something, but I was at a loss for words. Does that make me special?

No, probably not. He is drunk, it could just be a mistake.

But Sherlock never makes mistakes, my subconscious reminded me.

Shut up.

After some time, I cleared my throat awkwardly, and Sherlock grabbed a piece of paper out of his pocked. I laughed when I saw what was written on it. "We could always work on that project." He said with a shy smile.

Sherlock's POV

I read the instructions aloud. We were to ask the questions on the paper to our partner, as an exercise to get to know one another before moving onto the questions Mr. Uppercut would give us at another time. He also told us to judge by the answers and reactions to judge how the persons acts or thinks. A kind of deducing exercise, as I muttered under my breath during class.

We sat on the ground in front of each other, our knees touching. I notice the proximity between us, but did nothing in order to change it.

 I read aloud the first question. "Name?"

John laughed. "You already know that."

I snorted. "Your full name."

"John H. Watson."

I groaned. "What does the H stand for?"

"There is no way I'm going to tell you."

I frowned. Okay then. "Humphery."

"No."

"Henry."

"Nope."

"Harrison."

"You'll never guess it."

I tried to think back to the first day I met John. The alcohol in my body made it harder to think, and the memory was hazy. He was at check in, and I was a few people in front of me. I remembered that the lady at the front desk clearly said his name, and with this, the name clicked into place. "Hamish."

"N-" He stopped himself, his smirk leaving his face.  "Yes.. How did you-"

"First day we met."

He stared at me for a minute. "Bloody hell.." I chuckled "Sherlock Holmes. No middle name."

I looked back at the paper. We knew all these questions. Birthdates, ages, siblings, pets whatever. This was all pointless. I shoved the paper back into my pockets, and rested my hands on my knees. "Bored."

John nodded, before absentmindedly reaching his hand to trace patterns on my knee. I felt a small blush rise to my cheeks as he did this, but I did nothing to stop him. 

The boys were probably looking for us, I thought as I pulled out my phone. Sure enough I had dozens of texts from Mycroft, Lestrade, Nine, and Dean.

I took the time to at least look at Mycroft's most recent text.

God dammit Sherlock, where are you? MH

I wanted to laugh. After I flew through the window, we played Truth or Dare, one of our go-to drunk games. We had played several rounds, and we were all quite drunk, me and John more than the others. It was my turn, and I chose dare. Mycroft knew about my slight interest with John, and told us that we had to stay in the closet for fifteen minutes. I glared at Mycroft, not happy with the dare. When we got in the closet, I found an air vent on the bottom of a wall, and we climbed through it, into the hallway. We continued to run, not stopping until we made it here.

I honored my brother with a short response. We didn't want to be around you all.. We ran away. SH

Immediate response. Just make sure you two are back before the sun comes up. We're all going our rooms. MH

Did you and Greg do stuff? SH. I smirked at the text I just sent. I knew about Mycroft's infatuation with Greg since I saw him blushing when Greg took his shirt off during a round of strip poker last year, another game we played while incredibly drunk. Given, both Mycroft and I were bi, we hadn't told anyone. Nine and Dean, being two of my closes friends out of our group, soon found out, and were fine with it. They kept it a secret for a while,  until they let it slip during lunch one day last year. Luckily, everyone was okay with it.

My eyes widened. Shit. I thought. John doesn't know.

I looked at him, as he was continuing to run his finger along my shin and knee. I studied his features, trying to find a hint of him being gay, or at least bi. Nothing really stood out, like others that I've seen in the past. Yes, he was well groomed, but that was due to a slight tendency to be OCD. Every way he held himself says straight, and I frowned. For the time being, my feelings had to be somewhat guarded.

I felt my phone vibrate. Dean so kindly forced us to snog, if that's what you're asking. What did you and John do? MH

Nothing. SH

But you want to... MH

Stop it, Mycroft, I'm not talking about this. We are not teenage girls. SH

Well, I'm not. You, however, could be.. MH

Go to sleep, brother dear. You apparently need it. SH

Not as much as you will, especially with the amount you and John drank. Good night. MH

I looked at my roommate, who began dozing off. "Do you want to go back?" I said, yawning.

He nodded, and we got up. While walking through the woods, I felt something warm slip into my hand. I looked down, and saw John's hand entangled with my own. He saw what he did, and blushed, removing his hand. "Sorry.."

"I didn't mind," I replied, slipping my hand into his. A small smile appeared on his lips, and a blush played at his cheeks. I felt my heart flutter a bit.

Maybe he feels the same way.

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