Opening His Heart. TEENLOCK!JOHNLOCK.

1. New Someone?

Cold raindrops fell from the stormy sky, wetting the boy's dark curls and his coat, who in return pulled his coat collar up, trying to protect himself from the harsh weather.

He adjusted his leather bookbag's straps.
Fifteen minute walk home.
Sherlock had missed the bus after an incident at school, which wasn't even suprising for him anymore.

Only twenty minutes ago, he had been struggling as he had gotten pushed into his lokcer and being left there. When he had first hit his head against the cold metal, being pinned, his books on the ground.
Freak!

The sixteen year old Holmes was often bullied, physically and verbally. It had been like that as long as he remembered. He was the freak. Always the freak and the weird one.

Sherlock shook himself out of his dark thoughts, slipping out his phone, quickly putting his earphones on, wiping the screen of the raindrops on his coat before slipping it back into his pocket.
Music was his escape. Always had been. He could go into his world, be who he wanted to, do what he wanted.

He hadn't even noticed, that he had reached home after a while. Just standing in front of his gate to go in, before stopping, glancing over at the neighbours's house.
Moving truck.

Young Holmes cocked his head, brow furrowing, someone moved in?
He didn't care, he decided as fast as he had gotten curious, opening the gate to enter the two story house.

The rain hadn't stopped at all, maybe had just gotten heavier as Sherlock walked towards the front door. The garden was filled with different flowers, stoned path leading towards the white house, even a small water fountain made of marble. Sherlock never really cared about how the garden looked like, but Mrs Holmes did.
At least she said she did.

Sherlock didn't even have time to grab his keys from the pocket, before the door opened and the housekeeper, Mrs Hudson, was on the other side, smiling at him sweetly, before it turned into great concern, by grabbing his arm, pulling him into the warm room.

"Oh, Sherlock dear. We wondered where you we're." She spoke, as Sherlock removed his earbuds, letting the older lady take his wet coat.

"I was in the library." Sherlock lied, not wanting to get into any detail.

"Where you bumped your head?" Another voice spoke up. Irritated, Sherlock looked towards the stairs leading to the second floor, where his older brother Mycroft was standing.

"I hit it against the shelf." Sherlock explained, holding a death glare at Mycroft.
It was usual. Why should he tell him about the abuse? So that he could go tell on them and the bullying would go worse? Yeah, no.

Mycroft just stayed quiet, lips pursed as Mrs Hudson took Sherlock's wet things, ready to scurry away, before she gasped and turned around.

"Boys - I'm sure -." She started, before noticing Mycroft was already gone.
She sighed and turned to Sherlock.
"I'm sure you noticed that we have new neighbours. When weather gets better, you should introduce yourself, they have a boy your age." She smiled hopefully.

"I'm busy." Sherlock replied, grabbing his bookbag, starting to make his way upstairs.
He didn't care. Why should he care about a boy who moved in next to his house? He doesn't. Simple.

Dumping the bag next to his bed, Sherlock changed into more comfy clothes, grabbing a towel which he ruffled his hair with, trying to get the most water out of them.

He settled himself on his bed, next to a window which showed him exactly the house of the new neighbours.

Grabbing his book from his nightstand, Sherlock pulled a cream coloured blanket over his body, leaning against the headboard.
He shuddered a bit, before relaxing, listening to the heavy raindrops what we're tapping against the window, book open in his lap, few still damp curls fallen over his face.

His head was hurting. Not too badly, luckily.
He tried to turn his attention to the book, but felt, felt that someone was looking at him.
He glanced around the room, thinking it might be Mycroft pranking him.

He shrugged. The rain had gotten even heavier, skies dark and cloudy, casting shadows into Sherlock's room.

He glanced to look out the window, that's when he noticed.
In the house next to him, just opposite of him, was a guy, who was looking at the dark haired boy. First thought Sherlock had, was how creepy it was.

When Sherlock's eyes met with the boy's, he waved slightly, giving a small smile.

He was blond, wearing a red varsity jacket, skin a bit tanned. From that distance it was a bit hard to see exactly.

Sherlock did nothing in return, just reached for the curtains, pulling them down. He didn't like to be watched. He didn't like company. He liked peace and quiet and being alone.

Hopefully he wouldn't be bugged anymore.

*

Three gentle knocks we're heard on the door, Sherlock, light sleeper, startling awake when Mrs Hudson entered the room.

"Dinner's ready - oh dear, I'm sorry, we're you sleeping?" She asked, causing Sherlock to shake his head. He wasn't sure exactly how it had happened though, that he had fallen into slumber.

"I'll be right down." The boy replied. Mrs Hudson nodded, before closing the door.
Sherlock stretched his limbs, climbing out of the bed. He wasn't even hungry.

He let out a sigh, starting to make his way downstairs.
Entering the dining room, he saw the usual picture. Mum speaking on her phone about work, dad not paying attention, just surfing through his phone. Mycroft just seemed annoyed and bored, just like Sherlock.

Mrs Hudson laid the table as Sherlock sat down. No good evening or how was your day. No hello or thank you for joining us.

"I met the neighbours." Mr Holmes spoke up suddenly, "Seemingly nice people enough." He added.
And that was all. All they spoke during the dinner. Once finished, Sherlock retreated to his room, climbing onto his bed.

Why did he have to be there? He barely ate, what of course only Mrs Hudson noticed, but Sherlock had just played it off with 'I'm not feeling well' and that was it.

He opened the curtain once again. Stars we're out, twinkling across the soaring dark blue sky.
Immediately everything calmed down in Sherlock for a moment. He just stared at the blinking lights in the sky, almost wishing to be one of them.

The boy wasn't there anymore, thank goodness.
He knew, his parents - well they may not care, but he knew Mrs Hudson wanted him to make friends. He let out a soft sigh, changing into his blue pajamas, slipping into the bed, under the soft covers.

He despised sleeping, because it was a waste of time, but he loved it, because nobody could ruin it. Nobody could hurt him, ignore him, except himself.

Quite short and lacks descriptiveness, but I hope you'll enjoy this story. Feel free to point out any mistakes! Also this is my first fanfiction so I apologize if it's bad.