Opening His Heart. TEENLOCK!JOHNLOCK.

3. I Don't Care.

Sherlock woke up at someone knocking on his door. It was usually Mrs Hudson, who woke them up.
"Five more minutes." The boy grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head as the sun was shining brightly into the room.

The rain had stopped overnight and weather was suprisingly good, gusts of warm wind playing with the leaves on the trees and sunrays burning the back of his head.

"Sherlock. Get up." A voice commanded. A voice he never heard in the mornings. His mother.

Sherlock sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, his hair sticking out everywhere.
He didn't start to guestion, before she had opened the door, peeking in.

"Morning. I'll be home late tonight. Greet the neighbours." She spoke, before closing the door, leaving a very offended looking
boy in his bed.

Sherlock just let out a sigh, slipping out of the bed, into the bathroom so he could brush his teeth, wash his face and fix his hair and all the annoying things he had to do in the morning, for nobody.

He could like whatever or whoever, people still wouldn't like him. Only because he didn't wasn't fond of them.

The raven haired boy opened his closet, slipping on a pair of black pants with a
button-up.
He grabbed his backbag, making his way downstairs.

He left the leather bookbag by the stairs, walking into the well lit kitchen, sun peering into the room.

Mrs Hudson was making tea, plates of food set on the marble counter.
Mycroft was sitting by the table, eating in silence, except for the radio playing in the background.

"Mum-?" Sherlock started to ask, but just clamped his mouth shut when Mrs Hudson shook her head.

"Mummy - went to work already." His brother's voice spoke up, causing Sherlock to groan.

"Didn't ask you." He muttered, loudly enough for Mycroft to hear, who scowled in return.

"Eat your breakfast boys and stop bickering." Mrs Hudson spoke up, handing Sherlock his mug who went to sit behind the table.

"Plate too."

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't want to hear that." The woman said, placing the plate with a fried egg before him.
Sherlock muttered something, picking at the food.

Ten minutes later and Sherlock had eaten less than half of it, but used the moment that Mrs Hudson wasn't there so he was free to escape.

Mycroft just sent him a bitter look, what Sherlock ignored as he fleed from the room.
He grabbed his long coat, wrapping the blue scarf around his pale neck.

He grabbed his bag, opening the door, closing it as quickly.
He made his way down the stone path, but stopped, his eyes stopping on a figure next door. The blond boy, crouched down in front of a dog.

Sherlock immediately frowned at the sight, unpleasant memories surfacing his mind, what he pushed down, starting to walk down the street.

But he hadn't even reached far when he heard quickened footsteps behind him.

"Hi-." The voice started.

"What?" Sherlock snapped, turning around sharply only to be met chest-to-chest with the blonde neighbour boy who flushed in the face immediately.

"Sorry, didn't mean to do that." He apologized, taking a step back, a bit flushed in his face.

Sherlock eyed the bit shorter boy, his brows knitted together on his face, his deductions starting to work on him immediately.

He was one year older than Sherlock, it seemed. Plays an instrument, guitar or violin. Seemingly more guitar. Owns a dog, problems with father -

"Mate?"

Sherlock shook himself out of it, raising a brow.

"You okay there?"

"Yeah." The dark haired boy answered, turning around as he continued to walk towards the bus stop.

"Oh - hey , uhm." John hurried his steps up, walking beside Sherlock.
"I just thought I might introduce myself since - I just moved here and we're neighbours."

"That's nice."

John blinked, scratching the back of his head with a lightly nervous smile.

"Anyway, I'm John Watson."

Sherlock came to another stop, causing John to almost walk into a street lamp.

"I don't care." Sherlock answered, casting one look at the blond, before walking on.

John felt his smile fall, standing defeated for a moment before following him.

No, he wasn't going to give up.
He never did.

They stood in the bus stop for at least five minutes in silence, before the bus arrived.

Sherlock immediately went to a empty seat, sitting next to the window, placing his bag next to him.

John followed, thinking for a moment before lifting Sherlock's bag, sitting down next to him, earning a look from the pale boy.

"Ey, Sherlock, where you picked that one up?" was heard from the back of the bus, causing Sherlock to perk up a bit.

"Sherlock?" John asked, not starting to state that he quite liked the name before the other person continued speaking.

"Got a friend finally? What did you do? Threatened him?" The boy with dark hair spoke, a girl next to him laughing.

"He's not my friend, Moriarty." Sherlock glared, before sinking into his seat.

"Boyfriend then?" The girl asked, "It's sweet, don't you think , Anderson?"

"I'm not suprised." Anderson laughed.

"Could - you stop that?" John spoke up with a furrowed brow to which all three of them just watched him with a dumbfounded face.

"Oi, Sherlock, where did you pick up that one? Talks back and all." Anderson snickered.

"Just ignore them, for god's sake." Sherlock hissed, tugging on John's sleeve who slumped into his seat.

"Why do they act like that? Is that normal?" John asked to which Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Why does it matter? I don't care." The taller boy replied to which the blond frowned.

"You shouldn't let th-."

"Would you shut up once?" Sherlock scowled to which John immediately clamped his mouth shut and just nodded lightly, listening to the next twenty minutes about comments and teases to Sherlock.