Secrets Aren't Made Slowly

Is It A Favorable Future?

John POV: It wasn't long after John's little meltdown that Sherlock left. It didn't take him long to say goodbye, because even though he wouldn't admit it, John knew that Sherlock was really only craving one thing. It wasn't his fault of course; it wasn't anyone's fault to be honest. Sherlock just didn't know what a relationship was, a real one, and the only satisfaction he had ever gotten when falling in love was spending the night, or an hour, or just ten minutes with someone in the most intimate ways possible. And yet John didn't want that in a relationship, that was not how he envisioned love! And maybe that was why Sherlock left him when he did. Maybe that was why after their hands fell apart Sherlock said his goodbyes, because he didn't think that John was worth his time any longer. And was John being an idiot? Was he passing up an opportunity that he should be grabbing and running with? Was it really so hard for him to just appreciate the opportunity he had been given? He knew that many people, if not all, would sell their souls for the opportunity to just sit here in such close quarters with easily the most attractive man on the planet. And yet here John was, turning him away, leaving with nothing but the taste of his lips and the feeling of his kisses on his neck. And the real question was if Sherlock would ever come back. Now that he realized John wasn't just looking for love in its physical form would he ever want to be with him again? John would hope the answer was yes, however most anyone could just claim to falling in love. Most anyone could claim their heart belonged to someone else while it was in fact just hidden away inside their chest, where it had started, and where it was bound to end. And so John drove home in a sort of daze, gently brushing his fingers against his neck so as to try to remember the feeling of Sherlock's lips, where they had pressed ever so softly against there. He really was the most romantic man John had ever encountered, oh it was unbelievable the strength John had needed to push him away! And yet as beautiful as his kisses were it was just undeniable the fear of what would happen if someone saw them. Oh if there was a student, a teacher, even someone who knew John from the supermarket or whatnot, they would figure it out! It was only too easy to identify both men, their hair styles were quite distinct, and what they had been up to was certainly going to be no mystery to anyone over seven years old. They would realize, of course, that this was more than a professional meeting between a teacher and a student. It was love, love at its finest, or quite possibly love at its worst. John arrived home and was immediately forced to interact with people, for it would seem that his parents were begin extra touchy about where he was going and what he was doing. It wasn't abnormal for John to show up a little bit later than school, and of course the coffee cup in his hand was basically all the information his father needed. Mrs. Watson, however, was quite insistent at figuring out what John was doing and where he was going and with whom, and so John had to make up some sort of lie to ease her badgering, at least for now. It wasn't too difficult, since John just claimed he had been alone; however the tone in his mother's voice and the knowing little look in her eyes told John that she might be able to pick up a little bit more than previously anticipated.
"So how's school going then?" Mr. Watson asked over the table, just as they were finished passing around the tray of pasta sauce and had begun to eat. That was always the go to question, really, for that was the only thing in John's life that they didn't know everything about. Well, at least from their standpoint it was. To be honest John's parents didn't know most anything about his life, not his 'friends' or his friend's habits, or the little baggie of weed upstairs in his dresser drawer, or his boyfriend that just so happened to be his teacher. Oh what a wild life he lived!
"It's fine, nothing really to report." John admitted with a shrug.
"You had a test then, in calculus?" Mrs. Watson guessed, as if she had just remembered hearing something about that.
"Well ya, on Monday." John agreed rather sarcastically, for that was like two days ago, and surely she couldn't be that interested anymore? It was conversation, however, and so all in all it sufficed.
"And that went well I assume?" Mr. Watson asked more sternly, as if he was basically leading John up to tell him how fabulous he had done.
"Ya, a ninety eight." John agreed proudly, to which his mother smiled widely, congratulating him and what not for a job well done. John's father, however, reminded everyone under his breath that John had gotten a one hundred last time.
"I've heard some very bad things about that man, I work with quite a few other parents from the school and they have nothing to say but complaints." Mr. Watson pointed out, to which John just shrugged, hoping that a blush didn't start to creep into his cheeks. It was kind of funny really, if not totally terrifying, that his parents all had the worst image in their heads of Mr. Holmes. And yet he really wasn't all that bad, not as a person that is.
"Mr. Holmes, right? The one that gave you detention?" Mrs. Watson guessed.
"No that was Mrs. Donavan, Sherlock was only monitoring." John muttered, freezing as soon as he noticed the error in his words. For a moment his parents were silent, as if they were trying to figure out who Sherlock was, however John was quicker than them, thankfully.
"That's what all the students call Mr. Holmes behind his back, it's his first name, they think it's funny." John said with a shrug, to which his parents nodding in understanding. John took a breath of a relief, for honestly he thought he had would have a much more complicated time trying to explain his calling his teacher by his first name. It wasn't something the kids called him at all, in fact his first name was a special luxury only reserved for his lovers, a title that John was lucky to have.
"Well I heard he doesn't teach very well at all, and his tests are basically impossible." Mr. Watson continued, twirling his pasta on his fork carefully before looking at John for clarification.
"I mean ya, the tests are challenging, however I'm managing alright." John defended with a shrug.
"Ya you are! You're killing it!" Mrs. Watson exclaimed excitedly, holding out her hand for a high five that went ignored, for both her husband and her son were too busy eating their pasta to pause for a celebratory slap. And so she just casually reached for the garlic bread, trying to make it just a little bit less uncomfortable. When dinner was over John was a good son and helped with the dishes, although he wasn't specifically asked to he knew that it was kind of his responsibility, and so he cleared the table and helped with dunking and scrubbing the plates in the hot soapy water. Meanwhile his parents were chatting together about finances, and so he had the horrible privilege of hearing about the stock markets for about ten minutes before finally the kitchen had recovered from the mess that had been made over the process of dinner. When John was finally able to escape up to his room he saw that his phone had received a lot of messages, all from the little group chat he was in with Jim and Irene. They were discussing Victor, it would seem, and listing off all the um...products, that they wanted to purchase. It was almost as if they were just listing everything Victor sold, for it was quite the extensive list going there. However they seemed to be talking about it as if it would all be free of charge, as if they were offering Victor something in return. Well John certainly didn't want to know what that was, and so he opened the messages just to clear them from his screen and proceeded to scroll through Instagram. His feed was basically just clogged with pictures of kids from all the previous schools he had been forced to attend, kids he had long forgotten about, kids he never really knew, most all of them he had been anxious to leave behind. It was such a relief that he would never have to change schools again, after he settled in on a college he would be set for life, no more nomadic life style! John could settle anywhere he wanted to and just stay there for as long as he pleased, maybe forever, who knows? And well, maybe he'd have the pleasure of someone else's company forever. He could see it, a quiet suburban life, with a common two story house in some sort of development, Sherlock Holmes on his arm for the remainder of his life, his ring on his finger and his hand in his, oh what a life that could be! They could adopt a kid, or if not that then at least a dog, they could go on weekend excursions, and at night they could snuggle up in a blanket and drink wine until they were flushed enough to lose themselves in a mess of kisses and giggles. And that could last forever; it really could, so long as it lasted for now. It was essential that John played his cards right, these next couple of weeks would be critical for their relationship's future. The most prominent issue on the table, of course, was whether or not a future was likely or even wanted. John didn't know what kind of man Sherlock was, at least not yet, and if he turned out to stagnate as a druggie and a mess, well that might not work very well. And if he changed, if he quit the drugs and left his wife, if he cleaned himself up and got his life back together, well then maybe it could be better for them. Right now the situation seemed rather uncertain, for as much as John loved Sherlock he knew that whatever love it was wouldn't last long if it wasn't genuine. Maybe a month, maybe even a year he could tolerate that man, and yet once he decided that just kissing and spending the night and trying to hide from what they were really missing might not last long. They were missing that connection, the interlocking of the souls; well John simply didn't know a thing about Sherlock! He didn't know anything except his profession, his drug addiction, his wife, and his dealer. Heck, he had only just learned that man's first name not a week ago. And so on what grounds could their eternal love even grow on, what chance did they have to love each other forever if John was already struggling with loving him now? And of course he did love him, that Sherlock Holmes, that beautiful man, and yet beauty can only get you so far. He would need to love Sherlock's soul, his personality, that was the love that would last long after Sherlock's beauty had faded.