A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So here is a cute little story that is based on the song 'Begin Again' by Taylor Swift!!! no warnings on this one!!! Yay!! Hope you like it!! Enjoy<3
Sherlock placed his headphones in his ears, trying to block out the sounds of the crowded coffee shop. Victor had always hated this place, though Sherlock never knew why. He enjoyed the homey atmosphere, and the owner, Mrs. Hudson, was an old family friend.
Then again, towards the end it had begun to feel as though Victor's entire reason for existing was to hate what Sherlock loved.
The song playing through his headphones reminded him of that. Victor never understood the song, claiming it to be boring and beneath him. Sherlock loved the song, the lyrics never failing to send chills down his spine when he listened to it.
Sherlock hear his name being called faintly and glanced up from the textbook he was studying, a sharp dismissal planned for anyone but Mrs. Hudson.
His words died on his tongue when his eyes met kind, steel blue ones.
The young man was smiling down at him, his eyebrow cocked and head tilted to the side, and it took Sherlock far too long to register that he had been the one to say his name. He pulled his earphones out and tried to make his voice work, but only managed a timid hum.
"I said; you're Sherlock, right? Mycroft's little brother?" The confusion must have shown on Sherlock's face, because the young man laughed softly and reached out his hand. "John Watson, Myc is dating a buddy of mine." Recognition sparked in Sherlock's mind as he shook John's hand.
They had met once before, a few months prior at a party that Mycroft and Victor had dragged him to.
Meeting John had been the only enjoyable part of that night.
"Right, Gavin's house party or something, right?" John laughed, a more full sound that sent a flare of warmth through Sherlock's chest. He quickly tamped down on the feeling, not willing to let his heart get involved this time.
"It's Greg, but yeah." John laughed, motioning to the seat across from Sherlock. "Mind if I join you? Or are you expecting your boyfriend, what's his name, Markus?" Sherlock felt his chest tighten at the mention of his recent ex.
"Victor, and no. He and I are no longer together. You are welcome to join me though." John blushed and pulled out the seat, sitting across from Sherlock and offering him a sympathetic smile.
"That sucks man, breakups are the worst."
"Yes, ten out of ten would not recommend." John snorted, dropping his head against the table and laughing, sending a strange shock through Sherlock's body.
Victor never laughed at anything he said, at least nothing he was supposed to laugh at. He never had an issue laughing at Sherlock when he told him he loved him.
"What are you reading?" John leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand and looking at Sherlock with eyes that screamed curiosity.
"Uh, it's a book about bees." Sherlock blushed, pulling the heavy volume off the table and clutching it to his chest. Victor hated Sherlock's obsession with bees.
"That whole book is about bees?" John sounded amazed, not angry or frustrated like Victor used to, and Sherlock fought down a happy grin. "Jesus, how much information could there possibly be?"
"This is only the third volume. I own all ten." John's jaw dropped and he stared at the book in awe.
"Seriously? How many kinds of bees are there?"
"There are about twenty-thousand known species, in seven different biological families." John rubbed a hand over his mouth, his face still a mask of awe.
"That's amazing." Sherlock blinked rapidly, unsure how to process the conversation. Even his conversations with Victor in the beginning hadn't gone like this.
"Y-You really think so?" John's smile faded slightly, but he nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah, I had no idea. Do you have a favourite?" Sherlock didn't bother to fight the smile that crossed his face.
They chatted about bees and music and art for hours, Sherlock starting to let his walls down a little more each time John laughed.
"I can't believe you've never seen White Christmas! It's a classic!" Sherlock had no idea how they had gotten onto the topic of Christmas movies, but he couldn't bring himself to care one way or another. "My Mum and I watch it every year. That and Miracle on 34th Street."
"My family was never very big on movies when I was growing up, and Victor-" Sherlock's chest tightened at the mention of his abusive ex, and he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the pain. "H-He was never a fan of Christmas." Sherlock felt the pity pouring off John, and his mouth filled with a bitter taste.
"Hey, are you free Saturday?" Sherlock furrowed his brow, but nodded anyways. "Perfect, you're coming over to mine and we are going to watch White Christmas." Sherlock glanced up at that, cocking an eyebrow at the grinning young man across from him.
"It's July." Joh laughed, the sound piercing the armor Sherlock had started reassembling around his heart.
"I know, but everyone needs to see White Christmas, and I don't want to wait five months." Sherlock felt a smile tugging at his lips again at the boyish grin on John's face. "What do you say? We can get take-away, curl up under heavy blankets and watch the best Christmas movie ever?" Something clicked in the back of Sherlock's mind, and he felt panic start to rise in his chest.
"Y-You mean, like a date?" John shrugged, that boyish grin still on his face.
"Do you want it to be a date?" Sherlock wanted to say yes, but the memory of how much Victor had hurt him pressed at the back of his thoughts, making him hesitate.
"I-I'm not a good person to date John-"
"Did Victor tell you that?" Sherlock froze, wanting to deny it, wanting to say that no, every one of his previous partners had the same opinion.
But the only voice he could hear was Victor's.
A warm hand gripped his own tightly and he gasped, glancing up to meet the earnest eyes of John Watson.
"He was wrong Sherlock. I don't know what he did to you, but I do know this; Victor McFuckerton is an absolute moron for hurting someone like you." Sherlock couldn't fight the laugh that bubbled out of his chest. "There we go. Much better, eh?" Sherlock nodded, wiping his eyes and returning the grip John still had on his hand timidly. "So, what do you say? My place, Saturday, seven o'clock?"
Despite the warning bells still blaring in his mind, Sherlock nodded, grinning back at John as the boyish grin returned to John's face.
"Perfect! What's your number? I'll text you my address." They exchanged numbers quickly, John chattering on about how much Sherlock was going to love the movie.
Sherlock had the feeling that anything that made John that happy, Sherlock was going to love.
They parted ways far too soon, Sherlock could have stayed talking to John until Mrs. Hudson closed the store, but the other man had to work.
When Sherlock got home, he sat in his chair, thinking about John, and how drastically his life had changed in a single day.
I've been spending the last eight months
Thinking all love ever does
Is break, and burn, and end.
But on a Wednesday, in a café
I watched it begin again.
