Where We Started

The Stay at Home John

"That sounded a lot better." John decided, noticing immediately that Sherlock hadn't yet released his hand. But for some reason there was a part of John that didn't want him to let go, to keep his own hand underneath Sherlock's and play the violin together. There was a moment of silence, silence John simply didn't know how to fill, but once green met hazel he didn't want the silence broken. Sherlock's eyes, there was something enchanting in them, something beyond beautiful; they were like galaxies, sad, mysterious, but full of secrets and wonder. But then something happened, something John couldn't explain and didn't want to. Sherlock's eyes, instead of being fixed on John's eyes, flickered down to his lips, just for a moment, before he blinked and looked at the violin instead. That simple look, something so innocent yet scandalous at the same time, it made John's lungs shrink a couple of sizes and his heart beat even faster.
"I uh, yes, it did sound better you're right." Sherlock decided, clearing his throat hastily and letting go of John's hand. John nodded in agreement, but he wished Sherlock's hadn't removed his hand for some reason. Sherlock looked very conflicted, there was obviously a battle going on inside his head, John had no idea what it was, but Sherlock was distracted for some reason.
"Okay, now the D cords, you try this one." Sherlock decided. John nodded, pressing down on the string and mimicking the bow sliding on the strings. Half of him wanted to purposely mess it up, but the other half, the sane half, was asking him why in the world he would want to look like a helpless child in front of Sherlock. He definitely didn't want Sherlock's hand on his again, that was just preposterous. But it was so soft, protective... Maybe there was a war going on in John's head as well. This time a sharper note came out of the violin, it sounded right, but since it was a different cord it sounded different from the first.
"Good, very good, you're getting the hang of this, a lot quicker than I had." Sherlock decided, but not all of him was there.
"I thought that one sounded good, yes." John agreed.
"How about you try the next couple of cords then, all of them in a row, start with G and work down to E." Sherlock decided. John nodded, not bothering to mention that he had only played one cord correctly, but when he played them all in a row it didn't sound half bad. It sounded good actually, the cords going from low and soft to stiff and loud, making Sherlock smile proudly down at him.
"You are truly brilliant John." he decided, his cheeks looking a bit red in the lamp light.
"Only with your teaching." John defended. But he wasn't brilliant, Sherlock was brilliant, John managed to play four cords.
"How about this, I'll slide the bow, you play the cords, make up a little song." Sherlock decided, taking the bow from John's fingers without asking, but John wasn't about to protest.
"Sure, that sounds okay." John agreed. Sherlock was, if possible, even closer now, his arm swinging out in front of John, his face not a foot away from John's. But he shouldn't be noticing that of course, it meant nothing and it never will mean anything, so John shouldn't notice it.
"Here we go." Sherlock decided, sliding the bow over the strings while John picked the cords, pressing down one, two, even three at a time, and making a very crude, ugly piece of music, but it was still music, something John was previously incapable of producing beforehand.
"That was good, that was very good!" Sherlock decided, bringing the bow back down in a final sort of way.
"I suppose it wasn't bad." John agreed modestly.
"You did a lot better than I did." Sherlock pointed out.
"But you were what, three?"
"Four."
"Same difference." John decided with a roll of his eyes.
"Unfortunately though, we need to wrap it up, it's getting late." Sherlock decided, gently picking the violin off of John's shoulder and placing it carefully back into the case.
"Oh ya, what time is it?" John asked.
"Probably around ten." Sherlock guessed, looking out the dusty window to see outside. There wasn't much to see except a couple of stars and darkness though, but they spoke for themselves.
"Time flies." John shrugged, making Sherlock smile in agreement.
"I told you I'd teach you violin, the first time we met, you shot me down though." Sherlock pointed out.
"I think we've both established that our first meeting was a bit misinterpreted." John agreed.
"Misinterpreted or just shy?" Sherlock asked.
"No offence, but you were pretending to be a supermodel." John defended.
"Since when did I lose that status?" Sherlock asked with a little laugh, shaking his head so that his curls flipped over his forehead.
"When you were born." John decided.
"Oh stop, I wasn't crying, I was singing." Sherlock defended.
"And everyone covered their ears."
"You think very little of me John."
"Oh stop, I adore you, but obviously not as much as you adore yourself." John decided with a laugh. Instead of coming back with some type of defense or insult, Sherlock just blushed a little bit, smiling innocently as though he were embarrassed of something.
"You adore me?" Sherlock asked uncertainly.
"Of course I do, the rubbish you go through is unimaginable to me, just the thought that you could play that violin, the work you go through every day, the past you escaped from, I'm sure if I looked you up when I get back you'll be in the history books."
"Yes, I suppose I will, the stupidest death imaginable, I bet I'll go down in history by getting run over by a cow or something." Sherlock guessed.
"Oh stop, the cows tremble at the sight of you." John pointed out.
"Like most people, yes." Sherlock agreed.
"Shut up Sherlock, one day you'll wake up and realize how amazing you really are." John decided, making Sherlock blush even more, stuttering something that John didn't pick up on. He looked flattered and embarrassed all at the same time, obviously he didn't get complements a lot.
"Well, thank you then, I'll remember that." Sherlock decided, shutting the violin case with a snap, smiling up at John with a sort of twinkle in his eyes.
"You better." John agreed.
"But I really should be going, it's late, I'll see you in the morning I presume?" he asked.
"Yes, of course you will." John agreed. Sherlock looked at him with an odd sort of gaze, there was something mixed up in his emotion filled eyes that wasn't present before, something new.
"Good night then." He decided, tearing his eyes away from John and getting to his feet, picking up the violin case and climbing down the ladder with some difficulty. John sighed, not knowing what his over active brain was even thinking, but something was different with the way Sherlock was acting. Whether it was good or bad, John would have to decide later.