Sherlock hates his parents. That is a fact that he will have engraved into his grave stone. 

He hates them for having this party. He hates them for inviting people into their home. He hates them for forcing him to socialise. He hates them for knowing the Watson family. And, most of all, he hates them for deciding that he'd want to be friend with John bloody Watson, the most arrogant douche in the universe. 

So when he lead the school's famous ladies man and football Captain into his bedroom, he directed him towards the TV where his three or four unused games consoles sat and then fell on his bed with the book he was currently reading. Grimm's fairy-tales, as suggested to him by his good friend and dance partner Jim Moriarty. 

 John murmurs something and Sherlock only hears the words "rich" and "spoiled" before the older boy begins to look through Sherlock's collection of games that, other than the brain teaser's for the DS, were all still sealed in the thin plastic on them when they're brought. 

Some time paces if quiet as John browses the multitude of games and Sherlock reads. Sherlock finds himself relaxing, thinking that John Watson wasn't too bad - at least he knew when to keep quiet. 

But, then.. "Holy fudgeballs, Skyward Sword! Finally, a good game!" 

Sherlock grits his teeth. Too good to be true, he should have known. 

"Make sure the volume is low" Sherlock mutters, going back to his book. 

John hums an agreement of some kind before he sets the TV up for the Wii and then puts the game in. Sherlock listens as the idiots mutters little comments to himself. So much for quiet. 

Sherlock gives up reading and moves over to the sofa that John sat on. 

John looks at him, shocked he was so close. 

"What?" Sherlock asks, immediately defensive. "With you muttering commentary, the chances of me enjoying the book is slim. I can't leave the room, mother would slaughter me. So I'm watching you play." 

John nods. "Er... All right, then."

Sherlock looks to the screen where a strange elf of some kind (Sherlock assumes he's an elf with those ears) is being woken by a large bird. Sherlock tries to figure out what's going on, above asking John for an explanation as he silently played. 

 The first thing John seems to be doing is manual labour for an old lady. Sherlock raises an eyebrow. Well, not exactly what he'd expected. 

"How can you think this game is a good pass time?" Sherlock asks John, eyes not leaving the screen as Link is given a gem worth '20 Rupees' which Sherlock guesses is the currency in the game. 

"The game is just starting, Sherlock, this is the part where it teaches the newbies how to do everything. Like now, I'm going to learn to dash from Professor Horwell" John answers, tone defensive as if Sherlock saying a single negative word against the game was as bad as Sherlock insulting John's mother. 

Sherlock glances at him and snorts. "It is so sad you know the characters and story line that well" 

"For all you know, I've played this recently and therefore remember because it wasn't that long ago I played" John counters, tapping buttons as he climbs onto the roof of the building to talk to the Professor. 

"Going by the way you were oh so happy to find the game, I'm going to go with the sad nerd idea" 

"Shut up, tinkle toes" John snorts a laugh. 

Sherlock punches him on the nose, not holding back. John groans and drops the Wii remote, clutching his nose and curling in on himself as if that could lower the pain somehow. 

"What the fuck?!" John yells, wiping his nose to check for blood before he moves it side to side. 

Considering the angle (from the side) Sherlock could have broken his nose quite easily but it was fine. Not even out of place. Sherlock was kind of disappointed. 

"Don't take the piss out of what I do" Sherlock hisses the word. Being one of just three boys that did ballet at their school, he was all too used to the stabs and jeers and taunts. This was the first time he was close enough to strike out and had no one around (Jim, Molly or Victor) to stop him.

"Don't take the piss out of what I do, then!" John gestures aggressively to the TV where his character was stationary. 

Sherlock sees his point and settles back into the sofa, rubbing his knuckle gently to ensure that was okay. 

"Fine. Neither of us make any personal comments and our parents get to think we're friends and that life is perfect. Deal?" 

"Deal." John hisses, rubbing his nose again before bending down to pick up the Wii remote and continue playing. 

Sherlock watches as the game goes to a cut scene and then Zelda is pushing Link off a cliff. 

"One way to get rid of your boyfriend" Sherlock murmurs to himself. 

John laughs gently but doesn't comment, eyes on the screen as Zelda goes to rescue Link, his big bird thing (was it called a Loafwing? Loftwing? Loftwing.) doesn't arrive. 

In a matter of minutes it's revealed that some idiot with an ugly face and red hair has done something to Link's bird due to the upcoming competition. The Wing Ceremony, it's called. Sherlock keeps his comments to himself, watching as John follows the istructions of those he talks to and learns how to use a sword. 

John completes the practise in one go, having no need to be reminded of the moves and is able to do the correct movements with the Wii remote without any trouble. 

Before long, John has made his way through a cave and has rescued his captured Loftwing. The ceremony has been delayed especially for him, Zelda tells them when she meets up with him just before he finds the Loftwing. 

A tutorial for how to fly the bird is just starting when there's a knock on Sherlock's bedroom door. John pauses the game and Sherlock finds it irritating that he's such a good guest. If he was rude, he'd have an excuse to want him out the room. 

"Come in" Sherlock calls with a sigh.

His mother enters, smiling. She's holding a tray with a tea pot and plate of biscuits on. There's also a jug of juice and some small sandwiches. 

"Hi, boys. I brought you a bit of food. I didn't know whether or not you'd want tea or juice, John, so I just brought both" She explains, setting the tray down. 

"Oh, thank you, Mrs Holmes" John grins at her. 

Sherlock ignores them both and sits forward, pouring himself some tea and not even glancing at the food that was given to them. His mother frowns at him, not that he sees it (far too interested in the tea to pay attention to her). John notices, though, and picks up on of the sandwiches. She smiles at him before looking at the screen. 

"Well, it's nice to see one of those things getting used at last" 

"I use them." Sherlock argues for the sake of arguing.

"Mm." His mother hums in agreement. "You use them to collect dust samples."

 John chuckles. Sherlock glares at him and he shuts up, biting into his sandwich.

"Don't mind him, John. He's always been a moody child."

Sherlock snorts. "If I'm moody, what the hell is Mycroft? Other than fat."

"Sherlock, stop." scalds his mother, giving him a stern look.

The look does nothing and Sherlock shrugs, not caring about his mother's wishes. His mother visibly slumps, as if losing the will power to even try with Sherlock. 

John frowns a little and, to lighten her mood, speaks "The sandwiches are wonderful, Mrs Holmes. I can tell that a lot of effort went into them."

She smiles at him and nods. "Thank you, John. Your parents are probably going to stay into the evening for a few drinks. I'll bring you boys dinner later on. Don't be getting used to having it up here, though, normally we all eat at the table."

John nods his head. "I'm glad you're getting on with them. Seems like they don't get out the house much at times."

"Your mother is lovely. So is your father, him and Jeremy are getting on really well" 

John smiles. "That's great" 

"It is. All right, I'll leave you boys to your game. If you need anything, come get us. After about nine o'clock, we might all be a bit tipsy. Be prepared to stay the night, John. Sherlock has a blow up bed and will set it up for you" As she speaks, she makes her way to the door and ends up more out of the room than in when she's done speaking. 

"Will I?" Sherlock questions. 

"Yes, Sherlock, you will" She says and then smiles at John once more before leaving them. 

"Great..." Sherlock mutters. "Forced company.. Again." Sherlock eyes widen as he sips the eat. 

"Again?" 

"We had that Lestrade kid here last week but thankfully he's old enough to be forced upon Mycroft. Not that Myroft cared once Lestrade started baking for him" Sherlock snorts. 

"Greg is only a year old than me... Shouldn't I be lumped with your brother? Your brother who isn't fat, by the way, you shouldn't be mean." John replies, biting into his sandwich less gracefully now Sherlock's mum wasn't here. 

"You're closer to my age" Sherlock shrugs "and he is fat."

John sighs, giving up. Sherlock wasn't surprised. Everyone gives up on him. 

--

-

A/N: New story :D The chapter lengths are REALLY going to vary thanks to the way I'm structuring this story so some may be quite short. Hope you guys enjoy it.