Second Chance at First Love

Reflection

AN: This is for another gift exchange.  My task was to have Sherlock fall in love with a child hood friend, not Trevor.  It's not time to gift it, so I want to share here and see what folks think.  Feedback would bee much appreciated.  I want my new friend to like their soon to be present. Thanks. -DD

The lake was calm. No one out on the water.  The only sounds was the occasional chatter of the birds.  If he stayed out long enough, the call of the katydids would start followed by the crickets. Mother Nature's orchestra.  This was the best place in the world to come and think.  Especially in the fall when all the tourists were gone.  It would be him, the water surrounded by trees and plants.  He was fortunate that he had a bit of woodland on his side of the property.  It cost him a pretty penny every year, but it was worth it.

He would live here year round if he could.  Unfortunately, his work kept him in the city more than he liked.  What made it bearable was his best friend, John.  Soon he wouldn't have his blogger.  

John's blog caught the notice of an American editor.  With some spit and polish, his made his stories into a book.  Now he's a big time author, off to the US for a book tour.  Sherlock  is proud of his friend's accomplishments.  With  him leaving, it made him think about he direction his own life was going.

It had always been about the work.  Never taking time to form any lasting relationships.  Now it just seem hollow.  He was approaching 40 and not a lot to show for it.  Even his brother managed to find his match.  DI Lestrade of all people.  They were expecting their first child in a couple of months.  Mycroft's assistant agreed to be their surrogate.

That's why he was here now.  Reflection and to escape his panicky brother.  He remembered summers spent here when they were boys.  Despite the age difference they had been the best of mates.  Playing pirates. Robin Hood.  That's how he Oliver.  Gods.  He hadn't thought about that meeting in years.

He and Mycroft were arguing about who was going to be Robin and who was the Sheriff.  Myc had always play the Sheriff, but for some reason he thought they should trade roles once in a while.  Then came a voice from up in the tree saying he would be the Sheriff if Mycroft would be Little John.  The thought of  his brother playing Little John was so funny that he agreed to the disembodied voice.  Down from the branches fell a short, mouse of a boy. Oliver.  His family was staying in a cabin down the lane from there's.    He had been watching them play for the past few days but had finally got the nerve up to talk to them.  From that point on, they were inseparable.  The Three Musketeers.

Every summer Oliver would be at the lake and the boys would pick up like they were never apart.  They had tried to stay in touch during the winter, but school and life in general kept them form every going past the summer friendship.

It wasn't until the last year or two before Mycroft left for uni that things started to change beyond the typical.  Oliver and he were in the same year.  When Mycroft started spending more time with the older kids, it made sense for the two of them to become even closer.

Some of the comments Oliver would make to him were more intimate.  Things regarding looks, muscle size, kissing.  Then there were the accidental touches.  Brushing of the hands that was almost holding. Rubbing against each other.  He had put it down to puberty at the time.  Perhaps Oliver was experience his hormones earlier.  It had never occurred to him that he would have had actual feelings for him.  He had never been goo at that sort of thing.

It was the year after Mycroft left for uni and didn't spend the summer at the lake that it became apparent what Oliver had been hinting at the previous couple of years.  Oliver was sitting at their usual spot.  A log tucked back in the trees.  You could see the lake, but it couldn't be seen from the water.  The perfect place to spy on the older couples making out in the boats.  

They had been hanging out, as usual, but when Oliver had asked him to meet him there after their parents had gone to bed.  They sometimes would sneak out  to spy on the older kids.  When he sat down next the boy, he reached over to grab his hand.  Before he could say anything, Oliver had leaned over to press their  lips together.  

The kiss had lasted only a couple of seconds but was enough to shock both of them.  They just sat on the log, holding hands, not speaking.  Not sure what to say.  It was the fact that Sherlock let him hold his hand that gave Oliver the courage to try again.  This time when he leaned towards his friend, he was met half way.  He closed his eyes and pressed their lips together.  He pushed his tongue against the soft lips and Sherlock let him in.  Neither one of them knew what they were doing.  Sticking their tongues in each others mouths.  Exploring around.  It was wet, full of teeth and tongue.  When they pulled back a second time, they both looked at each other and giggled.

"I've been wanting to do that for a couple of years now." Oliver whispered.

"Why now?" Sherlock asked.

He shrugged.  "Seeings this is my last summer, I figured I better try my luck."

Sherlock dropped the hand he had been holding. "What do you mean, last summer?"

Oliver couldn't or wouldn't meet his gaze. "My da got transferred."

"Where?"

"Washington DC."

Sherlock knew Oliver's father was a diplomat of some sort.  Mycorft had been positively giddy when he offered to help him get a start with the British government.  He had been surprised to hadn't been sent away sooner.

"Well, then.  I guess we shouldn't waste any of our reaming time."

That mad Oliver's eyes shoot up, "Ya mean...."

Sherlock just smiled and pulled his friend back for another kiss.

The rest of the summer was a whirlwind of snogging sessions, hand holding and what could only have been called a 'first love'.  They had promised to write each other, call when they could.  For a time they did.  but life has away of creeping in and they soon lost touch.

Sherlock sat on the deck with his glass of wing.  He thought about Oliver on occasion.  Reliving his first love.  He wondered what ever became of the mousy haired boy.  Did he stay in the US?  Follow in his father's footsteps? Get married and have a family?  Did he ever think of his childhood on the lake?  Or the dark haired boy who was his first kiss?

'Sherlock, you're getting sentimental.  No one ever gets to have a second chance at their first love.' He told himself, downing the remaining wine in his glass.