Just A Game [Teenlock]

Chapter Five: Birthday To Remember.. Or Not?

*

"Sherlock!" A voice reaches the two boys lounging on the bonnet. They exchange a look, as if they'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar by their mothers.

Sherlock is the first to sit up and squint, putting a hand above his eyes to try and get a better view of the boy approaching them. He still has his cigarette hanging out of his mouth and he removes it to blow out the smoke as he smirks.

Jim sits up slightly, after registering who was making their way towards them. He sighs a little, mumbling about how his angel must have flew away.

"Mycroft" Sherlock greets with a nod as his brother stands at the end of the bonnet.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Mycroft shots back, skipping greetings, as a tiny trace of a smirk appears on his lips.

Both brother's know his only doing this to appear brotherly to their mother and his boyfriend, both of whom think he should try harder to bond with his younger brother. Also, if Mycroft's twitching fingers were anything to go by, he was hoping to score a smoke too.

Jim fully sits up then and tosses the packet of cigarettes to Mycroft "Oh, shut it, Mikey and have a fag"

Mycroft bites his lip and glances down at the box before looking behind him, back towards the school.

"He's waiting for me..." He trails off before glaring at Jim "And my name is Mycroft, James, you'd do well to remember it"

"Oh, I'm so scared" Jim mocks.

Mycroft gives a small smile, always having some odd bound with Jim. It was like they enjoyed torturing each other and attempting to figure the other's brain out. A mission in which Sherlock and Jim had succeed in, much to Mycroft's dismay.

The older boy removes two cigarettes, sliding one into his jacket pocket (Sherlock briefly questions the jacket, given the weather) and slots the over between his lips.

He holds a hand out to Sherlock expectantly. Sherlock leans forward and light it for his brother, giving a sarcastic smile as he does.

Without another word Mycroft turns and heads back for the school, his hair looking lighter thanks to the sun.

"Take the jacket off! Your boyfriend likes your arms!" Sherlock calls with a chuckle.

Jim taps his arm with a smile as Mycroft freezes. He sends a glare to Sherlock but shrugs off his jacket anyway, leaving him in a short sleeved top that was particularly colourful (red) for him. He'd only put it on because he had no intentions of taking off his jacket.

The boyfriend likes what the boyfriend likes.

"Damn Sherlock Holmes" Mycroft grumbles, taking a drag on his cigarette and rounding the corner to go meet said boyfriend.

Sherlock and Jim settle again, laughing to themselves.

"Your dear brother is so fun to mess with" Jim laughs, coughing on the smoke a little thanks to his laughing.

"Exactly why I mess with him so often" Sherlock murmurs, watching his brother round the corner.

The two friends share a laugh and ten minutes later students are flooding the carpark.

Irene glares as she approaches them. Jim raises an eyebrow, wondering what got her knickers in a twist. Sherlock seems to know as he slumps, looking a tad guilty as he meets Irene's gaze.

"You dicks! You ditched me in Philosophy! Do you have an clue how mind numbing it was without you?" She points a long manicured finger at them, eyes narrowed.

Sherlock can't help but laugh "Would you prefer us come in half way through, smelling like sex?"

Of course, Molly and John turn up just as Sherlock mentions smelling like sex. They say nothing but their reactions are clear, making Jim laugh. Molly face was so scrunched up that she looked like she was trying to give birth in this car park and John looked like he'd just been whacked in the face with a hard copy of the urban dictionary. 

Irene wrinkles her nose, disgusted "Ew, no"

After a few moments of silence Molly speaks up "Are we going then?"

Sherlock and Jim exchange a look and both girls sigh at them.

"You have no idea where we're going, do you?" Irene asks, sighing and sounding exhausted by the two boys antics.

"A party!" Sherlock says defensively as he flicks the butt of his cigarette to the floor.

"It's Harriet's birthday" Molly explains

"The girl who came out in assembly?" Jim laughs at the memory of the drunken girl stumbling to stage to proclaim her love for Clara, the quiet library student-staff member.

Irene hums, glancing at John. Jim raises an eyebrow.

"Harriet Watson" Sherlock says, enthusing her last name.

Jim's mouth makes an O shape and he gives John a sheepish look.

Jim waves it off with a smile "Don't worry, I teased her for six months myself"

They all relax, still not 100% sure and comfortable around John. Sure, Molly liked him and seemed content he could be trusted but Jim, Sherlock and Irene had to be careful. None of them were clean cut and there are certain things that you don't want many knowing about. Best they get on his good side for now, just in case.

Sherlock slides off the bonnet then, standing close to John. Irene all most rolls her eyes, Sherlock was flirting (well, trying) with a guy in front of another guy he'd shagged about forty minutes ago.

Sherlock takes hold on John's hand and tugs him forward so he twirls like those dancers on TV do. John seems too shocked by the move his body had just made to push Sherlock away.

Using it to his advantage, Sherlock presses a kiss to John's forehead. He then opens the passenger seat door and helps a dazed John climb in. Jim climbs off the bonnet and rolls his eyes with a small smile, flicking away his own cigarette and climbing into the back.

Molly and Irene follow Jim into the back while Sherlock climbs into the drivers seat.

"So, love" Sherlock winks at John "Where does your sister live?"

~

The party was... Okay, if Sherlock was being brutally honest, and he as most of the time, the party was the worst he'd been to in years. Even his cousin's fifth birthday party had been better. Do you know what they did? They played pass the parcel and listened to his cousin name all the Thomas the Tank characters on the wrapping paper.

Yeah, that was more fun then this.

Guests were standing or sitting, sipping their drinks like it was tea as ,music played faintly in the background.

Irene was sat on on the sofa between two guys who where drooling over her as she picks at her nails with her bag hung over one arm. Jim was stood talking to some girl who obviously had a crush on him but he didn't like and couldn't bed because she wasn't in the drama group. And Sherlock was stood beside Harriet Watson as she got praise from her friend's for getting The Trio to her party.

Conclusion: It was like any other crap party. People got hit on by people they didn't like.

Sherlock sighs inwardly before walking to Jim and grasping his arm.

He winks at the girl, who promptly turns a bright shade of red. "Sorry, babe, gotta have a chat with Jim"

With that he tugs Jim towards the sofa and grabs Irene. He then pulls them into the garden. They both smirk at the look on his face.

It was a classic Sherlock Holmes I-have-a-plan face.

Sherlock nods at Irene's bag "IPod? Slutty dress? Jim's tight jeans? My silk black top?"

Irene peers down into her bag, searching through it and mentally ticking off the items.

"Check" She grins when she was done.

Sherlock turns to Jim, smiling at the red check top he had on. Damn, this boy suited check.

"Right, perfect"

Sherlock then drags them both into the house and into the closest room with a lock. Turns out it was a decent sized bathroom, with enough room for their purpose. It was also conveniently just off the main room where the party was held.

Many eyes in the room followed the three as they disappeared into the room and locked the door. None of them cared how it looked. It was, after all, their reputation to be sluts.

"Time to get this party started!" Jim sing songs with a little shake of his butt and a fist pump.

They all change into the clothing Irene had brought with her. Their slutty look just went up a thousand points.

Irene was now in a short tight red number that Sherlock had never seen before. New, he guessed. It was a perfect fit and showed off all her curves. If he were into girls...

Smirking she reaches up and pulls the chopsticks out of her hair, using her hands to ruffle it slightly. It worked, sexy hair for a sexy dress.

Jim had changed from his loose jeans into ones that left little to the imagination. Sherlock was half tempted to climb into those pants with him. He didn't though, they had a party to save.

Sherlock himself looked much like he did the first day of the draw, drop dead gorgeous.

They didn't need to exchange any words, having been friends for so long they knew what to do. They all send a message to their 'party' contacts, Jim sends one to the drama students and Irene message all the exchange students.

When that was done Sherlock opens the door and saunters out, heading straight for a staring John.

Jim follows after him, heading for the first girl to flutter her eyelashes.

Irene walks out last, moving to some unheard beat, IPod in hand. She dances over to Harry's IPod docking station and swaps the battered device for her own, selecting her 'party' playlist and cranking the volume up.

It takes minutes for people to get up and starts moving around, dancing. It takes around ten minutes for a bunch of Irene, Jim and Sherlock's wilder 'friends' to show up with tons of alcohol. It takes ten minutes for Harry to stumble over to Irene and thank her.

"Wow, you really save the night" John snorts a laugh, smiling at Sherlock.

Sherlock pulls John close, by his waist.

"I waned us to have some fun, much easier with good music, bigger crowds and ridiculous amounts of alcohol" He smirks.

John rolls his eyes before turning in Sherlock's arm and sliding down his body and back up again. Sherlock's smirk widen, undoubtly amused as his hands settle on John's waist. He moves in time with John and the music.

He decides he prefer loose party John to I-don't-do-guys school John.

"And how much have you had to drink?" Sherlock whispers into John's ear, voice low and husky.

It has the desired effect, because a shiver runs down John's spine.

"Too bloody much" John laughs back, voice slightly slurred.

It's only then Sherlock notices the occasional stumble in John's dancing. Sherlock continues to move with the music, unable to find the human part of him that should feel guilty.

Over the pass few days Sherlock had learned that John was confused about his sexuality and yet he couldn't stop himself from flirting and actively trying to get John into bed.

They dance for a few songs, getting used to the other's body and how it felt to be pressed together, moving to the solid beats erupting from the speakers.

When they were more comfortable, Sherlock's large hands pull John closer by his belts loops. Sherlock can feel John making move to turn around and he loosens his hands to aid him.

John smiles up at Sherlock, his grin all lopsided and his eyes half-lidded. He looks tired, like a stressed man who'd finally found a way to relax.

Sherlock squeezes his hips and for some reason that relaxes John further.

John pushes up on his tiptoes, pressing closer to Sherlock. Sherlock's smirk drops into a soft smile as he closes the gap. His own soft lips meet John's rougher firmer ones halfway. Their dances changes to a sway as their lips move in a perfect harmony.

John's tanned hands slide up Sherlock's long neck until they're tangled in the back of his hair, pulling slightly. Sherlock's hands move from John's waist to his lower back, pulling him closer despite the fact there was about a hair's width between their chests.

Neither move to deepen the kiss or to change it, finding themselves content to just share this slow lazily kiss.

They pull away, not breathless but just.. content.

John smiles at the taller boy, eyes twinkling before he turns so they're back in their original position.

Sherlock goes along with it, surprisingly okay with just holding and dancing with John. For now.

They continue for a few more songs, before John turns his head up and opens his mouth to say something.

Then the short blonde is suddenly twirled out of Sherlock's arms.

John tries to struggle at first, wanting to get back to Sherlock. Then he takes in the girl who was now in his arms.

"Mary.." He breathes the name, eyes fixed on the other blonde before they're kissing, motionless in the middle of the crowd.

Sherlock simply huffs and walks away, towards the drinks table with an eye-roll. Drunk ex's hooking up at a party, how horridly cliché.

As Sherlock reaches for a plastic cup he registers an unsettling anger in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't a I-was-cockblocked anger.. that he could deal with, that he was used to. Well, not used to but he could identify it and accept it.

No, this anger was different. It was more of a he's-not-yours anger. Sherlock frowns at him, knowing how to sum in up in one word but not daring to think it.

Sherlock shakes his head, banishing the feeling (that frankly, scared the shit out of him) and picking up a plastic cup.

He feels it half way with the first bottle his hand finds before he knocks the foul tasting liquid back. After making a face at the sensation in his throat, Sherlock dances towards a lonely shy looking boy who he could remember was called Michael.

Sherlock hands Michael a drink, not even remembering when he filled the cup again.

"Hey, cutie" He winks

Michael's eyes widen and he takes the cup. Sherlock had to admit, that was rather adorable.

"Um.. T-Thanks, er, S-Sherlock" He offers a small smile, a quick twitch of his lips. The dark haired freckled boy then pushes his fringe out of the way, as if trying to get a better look at Sherlock.

He had green eyes, making Sherlock smiles.

"You know, Michael, you have really nice eyes" Sherlock tells him, always brutally honest.

Michael flushes at the complement.

"Thanks! You have nice.. um.. well everything" He flushes further at his words, taking a sip of his drink so he had an excuse to not talk again.

Sherlock smiles. Number 100 here he comes.