Soulmate Au but it's Johnlock! (UNDER HEAVY EDITING- 10/19/2020)

"School Band of Brothers,"

Monday morning, John rose happily, opening his eyes to the bouquet of flowers Sherlock had got for him. He'd gotten ready before it was time to and practiced his clarinet for band until it was time to leave for school. He'd expected people to be happy for him when he'd arrived, Clarinet in hand and rarely worn glasses on his face. "Maybe it's the glasses," John muttered to himself, pulling the spectacles off of his nose. John looked back up to the rest of the students and saw that their mocking expressions weren't dulling.

John instead ducked his head and moved into the school like another one of the cattle of the building the rules, restrictions, and curriculums were reducing these children into being. John walked into Homeroom and once again, all eyes were on him. He sat down and was granted his peace until the first hour bell rang. John walked up to his locker, his eyes widening in slight horror. A picture of John sleeping on Sherlock's shoulder with hearts drawn around them was printed out and glued - not taped; not tacked; glued - to his locker. John tore it from the metal door to the locker. John turned to see Mary, just about to tap him on he shoulder. "What the hell is this?" John asked, trying to stay calm. John was always a level headed kid. Unless someone straight up punched him, he wouldn't mind all the abuse he goes through in his school. "I didn't want it to get out like this!" Mary said, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her hair. "I took the picture because you were cute in it, but then my brother got ahold of my phone and sent the picture out, I swear!" She said. John looked and saw that Mary's Head was down because there were droplets of tears in the corners of her eyes. John felt a pang of guilt hit him in the chest.

"Alright, I'm sorry; I-I overreacted, is all. If you say it was an accident, then I'll believe you and assume that it was an accident." John sighed in defeat. Mary smiled and hugged John tightly. John's face flushed up as her scent drowned his nose. John brought his hands up to embrace Mary back. 'Everything's better,' John thought, 'Everything is good and nothing's wrong.'

  John went through the day with people laughing at him and calling him names. It wasn't anything John hadn't heard before, but he preferred he wasn't the laughing stalk because he was exhausted after the concert. John sighed in relief as he made it to the band room after school and was greeted with the warm, accepting atmosphere that was the room itself. John set up all of his things by his seat. As he was fetching his stand, most of the students gathered around near the door. Curiosity flooded over him and after he set his music stand in front of his seat and turned it around, he went to see the commotion. He saw a short boy with a very recognizable mop of chocolate curls and sky shaded eyes, which lightened as they set their gaze on John. The boy let out an awkward sigh of relief as his lips twitched up into a light smile. John smiled, but sighed as he rolled his eyes. Sherlock broke from the growing crowd and went for John's seat. He sighed heavily and yawned as he plopped into the chair juxtaposed from John's. "Go get a stand," John said with a smirk. Sherlock groaned as he hesitantly pulled himself up.

"Hi, so, we have an outsider from WSS private school. His name is William Holmes, so treat him with respect. He's new to band and his instrument, so Johnathan will practice with him, since you two already appear to be comfortable with one another." Mr. P said as he sat down and turned his iPad on to look over his music. John turned to Sherlock and raised an eyebrow. "How was your day, William?" John asked with a smirk. "Ever most irritating, my dear Johnathan." Sherlock retorted with a sarcastic grin, "And, yours?" He asked. "Someone leaked a photograph and now everyone thinks I'm gay." John said, irritably, yet returning Sherlock's smile. "Wait-Hold on," John noticed aloud, throwing his eyebrows up in surprise as he pointed at the curly haired boy, "You got taller," He sighed as Sherlock sat up straight. He was smiling brightly as if he was waiting for someone to notice his height difference. "You were the first on to notice," Sherlock said, his voice up a pitch in excitement.

  Surprisingly, Sherlock had learned quickly, but was very bad at sight reading. In the middle of practice, Mr. P had them in 'Sectionals,' which was a fancy wording for he would break them into sections and let them practice. Since John wasn't welcomed into he wind instruments, Sherlock was the only Violin player and new, and they were already sitting next to each other, Mr. P assigned John to be Sherlock's music tutor. John accepted, of course, but he couldn't help but feel as though it was going to go south quickly. Nothing against Sherlock, he seemed a bit uncooperative with people he's just met. John was afraid of the inevitable. Sherlock and John looked at each other and then at Sherlock's instrument. "So, you know how to play, but it's either you memorize the entirety of each and every piece, or you learn how to sight read." John weighed he options. "I'll memorize, thanks," Sherlock answered blandly as he went to studying his music sheet. "I don't think so. I won't let you just memorize." John assured. "You're going to learn to sight read, that's a promise." John smiled, and they practiced. By the end of the practice, Sherlock was almost caught up with the rest of the kids. The others didn't like that and started calling him a freak.

  "Shit! My aunt is stuck at the doctor with Harry." John swore as he shoved his mobile in his jean pocket. He quickly turned back to Sherlock, who was looking blankly into a puddle to see the reflection of a kid staring back at him emotionlessly. "I do look different. I think more advanced than state school and private school kids. I'm even into college chemistry experiments. John, I'm a freak, aren't I?" He asked, slowly lifting his head to look at john. The sandy blonde boy walked over to the puddle and stood there for a second. He looked from the ground to Sherlock and saw the boy continued to stare into the minimal body of water. John bent down, then Jumped, landing in the puddle with a splash, surprising Sherlock. "John, wha-?!" Sherlock tried as he brought his arms up to Sheila himself from the muddy water. Before he could finish the sentence, John pulled his arm, forcing Sherlock into the water as well. Sherlock only have a yelp of disapproval before John took his other hand and held them both tight as he began to dance like a five year old. Wiggling his bum to nodding his head to nonexistent music and swinging their arms around madly. "John, what're you doing?" Sherlock asked awkwardly. "Dancing, Sherlock! You should join." John said as he looked up at Sherlock with a smile sweet enough that it should've been illegal, consciously making Sherlock look like an utter wanker if he hadn't joined in John's dance. They splashed in the puddle, getting mud all up on Sherlock's socks, shoes, and trousers. But, Sherlock didn't care in the slightest. John was laughing and Sherlock was smiling. John's chest felt warm and there was a warm and gravitating feeling to his stomach. When the two grew tired of dancing in a puddle like a pair of lunatics, John checked his mobile once more. "Still nothing," He sighed. Sherlock shrugged as he wandered slowly and aimlessly around on the sidewalk next to said puddle, suppressing the urge to tell John how much that simple, mad activity had mattered at the time. So, he picked up a rock and threw it at the beaten up chain link fence across the street from them both. "You don't have a phone?" John asked. "I already have Mycroft on my case about everything at home as is, I don't need his governmental mates spying on me, too." Sherlock said seriously. John sighed as she sat down on the curb, picking up a pebble of his own, but before pegging it to the fence like Sherlock had, John inspected it and rolled it between the palms of his hands. John had a feeling that Sherlock wanted some kind of physical contact, too, by the way he was looking at the pebble as if he were jealous of it. John quickly stood up and pegged the rock across the street with such accuracy as to have it go in between the chain links. Sherlock looked over to John with awe. "You should join a sport." He said. John laughed at this, "Yeah, and quit band? No way! Bugger that, mate!" John picked up a stick and began to dig a hole in the dirt and soil. Nothing fancy, nothing meaningful, just a hole. There was a comfortable silence between them as John was occupied and Sherlock was thinking and absentmindedly staring at John's hands once more. "We could go to my house; it's a couple of tubes away." Sherlock suggested suddenly. "Do you have a landline?" John asked. Sherlock nodded as if to say, "Who doesn't?" John stood up, brushed himself off of the dirt - part of the mud -, and he put on his backpack.  He smiled at Sherlock as he stood and did the same. The two boys started for the road and began walking to the nearest tube station.