Once John got home from Greg's, he ran up to his bedroom without saying a word to his family. He left not long after "the incident", as he had become fond of calling it. It sounded more mysterious that way.
The incident.
John entered his bedroom and perched on the end of his bed. He had never really felt right in his bedroom. The walls were covered with posters of sports athletes John hated. In fact, John hated sports in general.
In the far corner of the room, John had a picture of his family. John, Harry, mum and dad. He hated that as well. Everyone in the picture was too happy like they had no idea what was coming. Well... They didn't. How were they supposed to know that their 'perfect family' was going to get destroyed?
Sometimes, John wished he could go back into that picture. Back into the moment in time where everything was perfect.
But it was always going to end this way.
John slouched over with his head in his hands. What if he was...?
No. He wasn't. He couldn't be. John Watson was straight.
Then why couldn't he look at himself in the mirror and tell himself that?
His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. John turned to see his sister sat next to him.
"John? Are you okay?" Harry asked softly.
"Oh, um... Yeah, I'm fine." John replied unconvincingly.
Harry sighed, "So you're not then. What's wrong?"
As if it had been perfectly timed, Sherlock's name illuminated John's phone screen. Why did he have to choose then to text?
"Who's Sherlock? Is he your boyfriend?" John looked at her. He tried to look annoyed but he was too tired to argue, "Girlfriend, sorry."
"No... He's a guy."
Harry jumped up off the bed, "See!" She exclaimed, "I was right first time."
John sighed and glanced towards his phone. The message had disappeared from the home screen as if it had never been there.
"Is he the reason behind," Harry gestured towards John, "this?"
The boy nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
John's head snapped upright. Did he want to talk about it? Of course he did. He needed to talk to someone. He didn't know what was going on in his head. He needed help.
But what if she told mum? What if she makes fun of me? What if she laughs? What if mum hates me? What if people at school hate me? What if she tells her friends?
The doubts overpowered John's mind so he said, "I've already talked about it with Greg, thanks..."
"So, Greg knows about your boyfriend?" Harry asked crossing her arms across her chest.
"Sherlock is not my boyfriend!" John argued angrily.
His sister raised he hands in defeat and began to back out of the room, "Okay, okay. Fine. John-straight as a ruler-Watson."
John shrugged although he wasn't really sure why.
"Of course, it would have to be one of those flexible rulers."
"Oi! Leave!"
~
(John/Greg)
-Incoming Call-
-Greg Lestrade-
"Hello?"
"Hello Jonathan."
"Greg...? You know that's not actually my name, right?"
"Whatever. So I googled this Sherlock guy."
"You stalked him?"
"Not stalking as such..."
"You stalked him."
"No! I like to call it 'online extensive research on an individual who doesn't currently know I exist'. Anyway, I couldn't find him but I found his brother, Mycroft Holmes. Have you met him? I mean damn."
"Greg? You do realise you're straight."
"Well..."
"Greg?"
"Let's just say one can be persuaded by the Holmes booty..."
"Greg!"
"Bit like yourself..."
"..."
"I wonder if there are other people who have been persuaded by the booty..."
"..."
"There could be a group."
"..."
"I wonder if there's a support group for the victims of the Holmes butts..."
"..."
"There could be badges..."
"..."
"'I survived the Holmes boys butts'."
"..."
"Good butts must run in the family."
"Greg, do you realise how creepy you sound right now?"
"I honesty don't care. I mean, have you seen it?"
"You like him. You like Mycroft."
"As a matter of fact I do. See, at least I can admit it."
"..."
"Anyway, couldn't find anything out about his dad but his mum used to be a mathematician. Gave it up for kids. Two sons, Sherlock and Mycroft. Two very clever sons. And we're not talking the occasional A at school. They know everything about everyone. And I mean everything and I mean everyone."
"You could be a detective."
"Detective Lestrade. I like the sound of that."
"Detective inspector Lestrade."
"Detective inspector? Oh! I like that."
"DI."
"DI Lestrade."
"Why hello there DI Lestrade."
"At your service Doctor Watson."
"Haha."
"I haven't heard you laugh in a while. Not since you met Sherlock anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, when you met Sherlock you started smiling more and laughing more."
"I guess we have Sherlock to thank."
"I guess we do."
"..."
"Well I'd better go. See you later."
"Bye Greg."
-Disconnected-
