Secrets Aren't Made Slowly

Making a Mess With Misinformation

They stepped into the classroom, looking very odd as it was empty and yet startlingly bright, the curtains were open and the sunshine from the high afternoon sun was shining undaunted into the classroom. Mr. Holmes stepped in first and yet waited at the door for John to enter, closing the door softly behind him and walking back over to his desk quickly, so as to make up any ground he had lost while being a gentleman. John couldn't help but wonder what was going on here, for Mr. Holmes lingered near his chair before deicing that maybe it was better to stand, and so he walked around his desk only to sit on the corner, looking very thoughtful for just a moment, staring intensely down at the floor as his leg shook madly off of his knee.
"You can sit, please." Mr. Holmes muttered, gesturing at the desks before him. John shrugged awkwardly, knowing that it would be a little bit too real to sit in an actual student's desk, and so he seated himself on top of the desk and decided that it was good enough.
"So what's up?" John wondered in a falsely casual voice, trying to play it off as if he was perfectly indifferent for whatever Mr. Holmes was about to say. In all honest he was on the edge of his seat, terrified with the idea that it might be some sort of deeply personal admittance or even a rejection of some sort, a rejection of an offer John still hadn't made. Or maybe it was a confession, was Sherlock going to admit to being an addict? Or maybe to being in love with him? Oh well this was all too exciting, and yet John still couldn't shake the feeling that he should be preparing himself for bad news. His lunch box sat on his desk and yet he thought that it might be impolite to eat, and even so he wasn't in the mood for eating much. In fact his stomach was twisting by just being in Mr. Holmes's presence, and surely throwing up wasn't the best way to woo someone.
"John I um, well I think I need to talk to you about something, something that I might have noticed a little bit along the way. Something that...well it's fine of course, and yet I feel as though we need to talk about it just so that we're on the same page here..." Mr. Holmes let his voice trail off for a moment, sighing heavily as John's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He was going to say it, wasn't he? Oh my goodness this was a love confession!
"Yes um, ya okay. What is it?" John asked, still trying to stay calm, still trying to upkeep the impression that he wasn't dying inside from anxiety and anticipation. This could be anything, he could be saying anything, oh why didn't he just say it?
"I saw Victor, last night. Victor the um, well I imagine you remember him he's..."
"Ya I know Victor. Actually that's sort of funny, I ran into him on Friday night." John admitted with a little chuckle. Mr. Holmes nodded gravely, as if he was preparing to deliver some unwanted news.
"Yes I know. We um, well he talked about you. He told me what you had said, and John I know that maybe you think that it would work, and yet you do have to realize the role I'm here to play." Mr. Holmes muttered nervously, still unable to look John in the eyes as he delivered whatever kind of confession that was.
"Wait, what did he say that I said? You lost me." John admitted rather nervously, still trying to make it seem as though this was all some sort of joke and yet he could just guess as to what lies Victor was attempting to spread about him. Mr. Holmes heaved a very uncomfortable breath, finally bringing his eyes to meet John's as if he thought that maybe eye contact would make this go smoother.
"Oh what a fool I am...no ignore me, forget I've said anything." Mr. Holmes insisted, shaking his head and sliding pointedly off of the desk so as to stroll about the room.
"Mr. Holmes not to be pushy, but you can't really lead up to something and then not say it." John insisted with a frown, looking towards his teacher as the poor man stopped, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he had almost said something, something he would have ultimately regretted.
"You don't...well looking back I know that it was ridiculous! He was lying, I know that now." Mr. Holmes assured with a sigh, trembling a little bit and refusing to look back at where John was perched, still looking quite confused.
"I assure you, Mr. Holmes, whatever he claimed I said it's not true. We were talking about you, and yet he was being rather pushy, he was trying to make me agree with him on some fronts that made me...well just a little bit uncomfortable. And so I left, I didn't want to hear anything more about how beautiful you were, or how much he was in love with you, it was just too much." John admitted regretfully, watching his teacher as if expecting him to look back at him, to apologize for this misunderstanding. And yet Mr. Holmes was quiet.
"And to think, he had sold me that information..." Mr. Holmes whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his hands momentarily before taking a quick breath, the color now returning to his cheeks as if he had just survived some sort of horrific catastrophe. John, of course, didn't want to even think about what Mr. Holmes meant by 'sold', and yet for the strangest reason the very idea of that horrible creep Victor with his hands and lips all over Mr. Holmes as if he was just some sort of treasure that could be loved at will, well it disgusted him! It made him wish that somehow he had been there to stop it, that somehow he could ensure Victor never got to touch Mr. Holmes again.
"John I knew it's hard to think of me as someone with feelings, much less with romantic entanglements. But I'm a mess; oh I'm just a mess! And I don't want you to know Victor, I don't want you to have to deal with him, and now he's messing with us, with you, now he knows..." Mr. Holmes groaned heavily, shaking his head once more as if he couldn't possibly explain the state of agony he was constantly stuck in. John pitied him immensely, and of course this would be one of those moments that would be perfect for some soft, gentle intimacy. Had John gotten over whatever reluctance he had he might have been able to take that man in his arms, that trembling man, and comfort him to the best of his ability. And yet society told him that he had to stay on that desk, force of habit, force of ethics, they all made sure that he stayed still all while Sherlock sputtered and sighed, looking incredibly small for such an over dominating man.
"Mr. Holmes please, don't worry about Victor. Just ignore him, don't listen to a word he says, don't believe the rumors he's attempting to spread." John advised.
"As if I can just ignore him! He always knows what to say, John he always knows exactly..." Mr. Holmes took a deep breath, shaking his head once more and blinking as if he had just realized that he had said something he shouldn't have. For a moment John was tempted to ask what Victor had been saying, and yet of course he was silent. He felt like that sort of interrogation would be bad for this already broken man's mental state. Evidently there was something secret, something almost shameful, that Mr. Holmes might have believed when John was absent. And yet sitting here, trying to admit to something Victor had told him in the drunken darkness, well he was probably realizing just how stupid it sounded! Surely Mr. Holmes didn't want John to know just what was troubling him, just what he wanted to know...
"Why can't you just arrest him?" Mr. Holmes sputtered weakly, bringing something of a saddened smile to John's face. If only it were that easy, right?
"The investigation is far from over, Mr. Holmes. The force said that I'll be here until the end of the school year, so I've got plenty of time." John assured with a soothing smile.
"You're staying the whole year?" Mr. Holmes asked with a tinge of hope in his voice, suddenly raising his head with an unchecked look of relief on his face.
"Well yes, at least that's what they told me least." John admitted with a little smile.
"Oh thank God, thank God! At least throughout all of this I'll have a friend." Mr. Holmes breathed, and for a moment both of them thought that there was something more that could be done. Oh if this conversation had been between any other two they would have at least interlocked hands, or hugged, maybe if they had been very open about their feelings towards one another they would be so bold as to exchange a quick kiss. Either way the space between them was wasted! Either way their lack of all intimacy was a shame, and for a moment they both knew that, somehow. They both felt as though they should be doing something more, when in reality nothing was done to fix it. There was something wrong with just being friends, and that became apparent then, when nothing had happened at all.