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But I'm not GAY!

Chapter Text

Sherlock Holmes leaned against the school walls taking a long drag from his cigarette. His best friend and platonic soulmate (according to the tattoo on his wrist), Irene Adler, sat on the stone wall next to the stairs leading to the main doors. She wore a tank top, proudly showing her soulmate tattoos, except for on crucial detail: she only had one. It sat in proud black proclaiming: “I’m gay.” Sherlock’s was similar under platonic:“I’m lesbian. I wasn’t hitting on you.”

But Sherlock also had another tattoo, this one in red: “Here, use mine. (wait no your soulmate says that? But I’m not GAY!)” (the second part was below the first and Sherlock is increasingly concerned with it. He could be bi, but then why would he say that?” Sherlock wasn’t sure what he was going to be using. But he wasn’t sure he cared, as long as his soulmate turned out to be someone decent, not like that creep Jim. All he knew was that Jim’s red tattoo was:“Oh fuck off”, which just happened to be what Sherlock said when Jim came up to him saying: “Oh Holmes, I heard you fancy yourself a detective. Well I have a case in my pants I want you to investigate.”

Sherlock hated Jim, and thought he was probably his arch nemesis. When he had presented this thought to his siblings, Mycroft had exclaimed: “What about me, brother mine?” and his little sister Eurus, who they all believed was a psychopath, only laughed and said: “No that’s me.”

“Hey, Sherl.” Irene said, cutting off his thoughts. “Do you know how much stress your words caused me?”

“Sorry. It was kind of rude to assume you were hitting on me, but I mean you kind of draped yourself over my arm.”

“Sorry.” She tilted her head to the boy John Watson going up the steps, taking a drag from her own cigarette. “Is he cute?”

“By my standards? Hell yes. By straight girl standards? I have no fucking clue.” Sherlock blew his smoke into Irene’s face when she wolf-whistled at John.

“Oh fuck yeah, cute girl coming up. Hey sweetheart.” she said, leaning over to Molly Hooper ascending the stairs.

“Um, sorry I’m straight.” Molly said nervously, curling in on the books she held to her stomach.

Irene sighed, “figures.” she took another long drag and blew her smoke into Molly’s face, who started coughing.

“Irene.” Sherlock warned. “Let’s not torment the straights.”

Molly gave a small smile. “Thanks Sherlock. Will I see you in science?”

Sherlock sighed “If you insist.”

Irene snickered. “But Sherl, I thought we would go to that bar.”

“Wait.” Molly said. “Are you two soulmates?”

“Platonic.” Irene and Sherlock both showed her their platonic soulmarks.

“Wait, wait.” Molly waved her hands around. She pointed at Sherlock, “You’re gay?” He nodded in confirmation. “And you have no romantic soulmate?” she said to Irene.

“What can I say? I sleep around. Makes a buck or two.”

“Thousand.” Sherlock muttered.

“How many people have you had sex with?!” Molly exclaimed.

“I’ve fucked at least 25. All the boys payed, and so did most of the girls. You want to, sweetheart?

“Nope still straight.” Molly backed away and ran into the school.

Sherlock and Irene burst out laughing. “Sherl, she has a major crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Oh, so you’re so brilliant, but you can’t tell when a girl has a crush on you. I pity you.” Sherlock laughed along with Irene before they ran off to class.

______

John Watson’s soulmark was odd. He had no platonic soulmate, but he had a best mate, and his romantic tattoo read: “Oh. Well thank you for letting me borrow it. Shall we forget this ever happened and you go back to your girlfriend?” He wasn’t sure what he was lending the girl, and why she seemed so salty, or why he would have a girlfriend, but he figured that he should just go to science and forget it. As he climbed the stairs Irene Adler, the most popular girl in school, wolf whistled at him, which caused Sherlock Holmes, the wannabe detective to blow cigarette smoke in her face. John crinkled his nose and continued to race up the stairs.

______

Science was the only class John Watson and Sherlock Holmes shared, and it just so happened that in the middle of science Sherlock jumped up and demanded of a kid named Mike, “Let me use your phone.”

Sorry, must have left it in my other coat,” Mike shot back.

Sherlock sighed, “Can I borrow anyone's phone?”

“Here, use mine.” John stood up and handed Sherlock his phone. Sherlock pulled down his sleeve to show the first part of his romantic soulmark. “Wait no, your soulmate says that?” John blurted, “But I’m not GAY.”

Sherlock quirked his eyebrow. “Oh. Well thank you for letting me borrow it. Shall we forget this ever happened and you go back to your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” John stammered.

“Then how do you know you’re straight?!” Irene yelled.

“Irene.” Sherlock cautioned. Turning back to John he said, “Well then I hope that we may at least be friends.” He thumped down.

“Freak!” Sally Donovan yelled out. “Doesn’t even have soulmate that loves him!”

Irene gritted her teeth. “At least he has a soulmate!”

Sherlock put his hand on Irene’s arm. “No, Irene.” Irene sighed and hugged her friend.

“Sorry, Sherlock.”she said. He sighed and relaxed in her arms. John ran out of the room, sad because he had deserted his soulmate. But he wasn't gay… was he?

Chapter Text

Sherlock was excused from class, along with Irene. Irene because she was cursing out fate, soulmarks, the gods, and John Watson himself, Sherlock because he was sitting there staring blankly ahead, having a small meltdown. Irene dragged him into Sherlock’s household and yelled, “MYCROFT, GET YOUR LAZY ASS DOWN HERE! SHERLOCK FOUND HIS SOULMATE, HIS NAME IS JOHN WATSON, AND WE NEED TO TORTURE HIM! MY-CROFT-HOLMES! WE HAVE SOMEONE FOR YOU TO ANNIHILATE!”

“Who are we torturing?” Mycroft popped up behind them, causing Irene to jump. He held the hand of the Holmes fifth grade daughter, Eurus. His voice was casual, or at least as casual as the sociopathic genius could sound.

“Sherlock’s soulmate!” Eurus sang happily. “Toss him in oil, fry him up! Scar him, brand him, eat him up! Make him pay for what he did! Then do it all over again! Eyeballs pop, bones crack! Serve him up, lips smack! Make him pay for what he did! Then do it all over again!” She laughed maniacally.

Sherlock shook his head. “How did Jim get his hands on her?”

“Hmm?” Mycroft inquired.

“Sings that a lot. He’s horrid.” Sherlock explained.

“And about your soulmate? John, you said?” Mycroft quirked his eyebrow and adjusted his umbrella that he was carrying on his other arm.

“Not gay.” Irene said.

“Bi?”

“Straight.” Sherlock groaned, ruffling his hair in distress.

“My red soulmark is literally, “Hey, I’m John’s friend, Greg. You know John, right? He’s Sherlock’s soulmate. Nice to meet you. Mycroft, John said?” He will come around.” Mycroft said bluntly, Leaving Sherlock disgruntled mycroft had never told him before. Mycroft then led Eurus back upstairs. “Eurus, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

“Jimmy says it about Sherlock.” Eurus said, unaware that Sherlock and Irene could hear her and were exchanging horrified glances.

“The fuck, Sherl.” Irene whispered.

Sherlock shrugged, “I’m bored. Want to go torture Jim Moriarty?”

“Him or John Watson.”

“Not my soulmate.”

“Great.” Irene pouted. “Well, let’s go give ‘Jimmy’ a lecture.”

“Yes, let’s get him away from Eurus.”

Chapter Text

“Greg.” John sighed. “I found my soulmate.”

“Cool!” Greg Lestrade popped his head out from behind the bookshelf he had been browsing when John flopped down at the library table. “What’s she like?”

“He’s not female.”

Greg’s forehead scrunched together in confusion. “You’re bi?”

“No! I’m straight! The system is glitched.” John lay his head down on the table and rolled up his sleeve, studying his soulmark. “What’s your soulmark again?”

Like John, Greg didn’t have a platonic soulmark. It was how they had met. But his soulmark stood out on his arm in the bright red of romance: “I assume that’s what he said. That is my name.” He showed John. “I don’t know who said it. Or what I said. It’s all so confusing.” Greg thumped his head down next to John’s. “John, I thought you didn’t have a platonic soulmark.”

“I don’t?”

“Look at your arm.” On John’s arm Sherlock’s words were forming in black. The same thing was happening to Sherlock.

_______

Sherlock stared at the facts of life. He had two platonic soulmates, and the universe had fucked up splendidly and left him with a straight soulmate. He shoved Irene aside and ran back home, into his room, falling onto his bed and screaming into a pillow. Was he destined never to have a romantic soulmate like Irene? She dealt with it, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it. He couldn’t trust Mycroft’s soulmark, because it could be referring to platonic soulmates. He lifted his head from his pillow, it was tearstained, salt water turning the white linen grey. Oh, and Eurus was sitting on his desk. What a lovely surprise. She was singing softly, the same song she had sung when Sherlock’s childhood friend had gone missing, I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beech tree. Help succour me now the east winds blow. Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go! Be not afraid to walk in the shade save one, save all, come try! My steps - five by seven, life is closer to Heaven, look down, with dark gaze, from on high. Without your love, he’ll be gone before. Save pity for strangers, show love the door. My soul seek the shade of my willow’s bloom. Inside, brother mine - Let Death make a room. Before he was gone - right back over my hill. Who now will find him? Why, nobody will. Doom shall I bring to him, I that am queen. Lost forever, nine by nineteen.”

“Oh, fuck off, Eurus.” He said, throwing a pillow at her. She crossed her arms.

“I will not!” She gave a pout before smiling, “Sherlock, there’s a man here to see you. I wanted to kill him, but Mycroft said no.” she gave another pout.

“Who?”

 

“His name is John.”

Sherlock buried his face in the pillow again. “No.”

“Are you scared of him?”

“No.”

Eurus clapped, “You are. You can’t be scared of him. You haven’t talked to him. See you talked to me, and you knew to be scared of me. You talked to Mycroft and you knew you should be scared of him, but you aren’t. You talked to Jim, and you figured out you could kill yourself before he did, so your not scared. You talk to him, and then decide if you should be scared.”

Sherlock raised his head. “What?”

“Talk to him.” Eurus sang.

“When did you become so philosophical?”

“Talk to him, talk to him…” she sang, her voice growing higher and faster until Sherlock threw another pillow at her.

“Fine!” Sherlock wiped his eyes and starmed downstairs, where John sat on one of the two chairs, quickly standing up as Sherlock came in. “Sit.”

“Hi.”

“John.” Sherlock sat across from him, lacing his fingers together and setting his chin on it. “I’m sorry to be your soulmate.”

“Uh, don’t be.”

Sherlock blinked. “Why? You don’t like boys. Shall we make a compromise? Friends?” Sherlock lifted his head and stretched his hand out. John shook it.

“Anticlimax.” a voice chorused from the doorway. They turned to find Eurus standing there. “I wanted Sherlock to die.”

“What?” John asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “You get used to her. If I end up dead it’s her or Jim Moriarty. Eurus, did you tell me not to be scared of people until I talked to them so John might kill me?”

“Yeah. He has a switchblade in his pocket.” John took it out and tossed it in the air, catching it skillfully.

Mycroft entered with a frown. “Hello, John. Eurus, have you been torturing our brother?” Eurus shook his head, and Mycroft sighed, “Well, I hope you have it all sorted, brother mine.” He led Eurus out of the room.

“Is your sister…?”

“We don’t know. Going to the doctor is weird in this family. We correct them and give comments on health. I haven’t been since I was six.”

John nodded slowly, not understanding. What family didn’t go to the doctor? But Sherlock was retrieving his coat and scarf, oh! and speaking. “We should go tell Irene not to murder you.

“How many people you know want to murder me?”

“Well, Mycroft would’ve if I was really hurt, Eurus likes murder in general, Irene cares too much, and Molly loves me too much to want my heart broken.”

“That’s four.” John’s mouth hung open a bit.

Sherlock turned heel and started to walk out the door. “If it’s any consolation, I have at least six.” John shook his head before following Sherlock out the door.

Chapter Text

“I can’t murder him.” Irene said spectically. “What if he breaks your heart?”

“We’re not dating Irene.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.” She took another drag from her cigarette. I won’t kill him. But can I torture him?” she pulled out a knife and grinned.

“No!” Sherlock exclaimed. “Also, knives are too informal.” She shot him finger guns. And raised his eyebrow back.

“Oooookaaaaaay.” John said “Now what?”

“Your friend, Gavin is it?, his father works at the police station, doesn’t he? Call him, I can help solve the murders.”

John nodded, “It’s Greg. And can you?”

“Greg? Really? And yes. I’m smart enough.”

“Ok.” John took out his phone and texted Greg. “he says there is a murder. His dad will give you ten minutes on the scene.”

Sherlock smirked and flipped up his coat collar. “Ten minutes is enough.”

John threw his hands in the air. “Really? Fine!” He followed Sherlock out of the door.

Irene smiled after them before snapping her fingers. “You can come out now.” The man left the closet and Irene pinned him against the wall. “Lucky I was still dressed.”

______

“And that sir, is how his brother did it. All it took was an alinzing of the paint, the woman's jewelry, and a history of his and her affairs against their respective partners. All it took was for him to see he had cheated on his wife with the same woman his sister had cheated on her husband with, and he got jealous, thinking that the woman he had laid exactly once was gay, because he forgot being bi and pan was something that happened.”

Greg’s dad just stared at Sherlock before turning around scratching his head. “You have to be nicer.” John whispered to Sherlock.

“Why? It’s no fun.” John and Sherlock started laughing as they left the crime scene.
“Coffee?” John offered. “Platonically.”

“Of course.” John and Sherlock entered the nearest coffee shop, ordering black coffee and two muffins. Sherlock smiled at the girl behind the counter. “Hello, Molly.”

She offered him a small smile. “Hello, Sherlock. Made up with your soulmate?”

“Friends. He’s not gay. Like you said to Irene.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“No. But we both know you were somewhat aroused. Now John is straight, but are you sure you are?” Sherlock leaned over the counter before grabbed his coffee and muffin and walking over to a table by the window.

“Terribly sorry.” John grabbed his stuff before heading over to the table that Sherlock sat at. “Sherlock, that was rude.”

Sherlock shrugged. “Like I said before what’s the fun in being nice?” He took a swig of his coffee. “Do you believe in time travel?”

“No.”

“I do. All moments in time take place at once. Like this.” Sherlock dropped coffee on the table, ignoring Molly’s shriek of “Don't stain the table!”

“We exist in one moment.” He pointed at one drop. “But all seconds take place consecutively. Not even seconds. Nanoseconds. Infinityiths of seconds. All we would need to do is travel from this dot to, say, this one.” he moved his finger to another dot. “It would be hard, yes, but not impossible.”

“I understood nothing, but everything about that.” John stared at Sherlock.

“Most people only understand nothing. You’re smart, for someone so stupid.”

“Hey!” John looked stupefied.

Sherlock waved his hand. “Oh, don’t look so horrified. All people are.”

John took the last drink of his coffee. “Ok. Well I have to go, my curfew is 7 and it’s 6:30. See you around?”

“Of course. We go to the same school. You know my address. Feel free to come by anytime. Bring Georg.”

“Greg.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

____

If Sherlock hadn’t been so invested in the boy he had spent the day with and the murder case, he would have noticed the listening device on his favorite coat.

Chapter Text

Sherlock slept soundly that night, dreaming of a world in which his soulmate loved him. He slept through his parents arguing about Eurus, he slept through the noises coming from Eurus’ room, he only woke to Mycroft’s soft crying, the crying he did when he thought no one could hear him.

Mycroft put up the facade of being emotionless, same as Sherlock. But same as Sherlock, he felt. He wanted to meet his soulmate. Would fate be so cruel as to deny him his soulmate, because one man refused his sexuality. He sobbed into his pillow, only stopping when someone entered the room. “Mycroft?”

“Go away, brother mine.”

“Mycroft, what’s wrong?”

Mycroft grimaced. “You’re a sociopath, don’t act like you understand.”

Sherlock sat next to Mycroft. “How can I be a sociopath if I’m quietly falling for a straight man?” He put his hand softly on his older brother’s back.

“You only think you’re falling. It’s the societal norm.”

“You want to meet your soulmate, Mycroft, don’t lie to me.”

“I do, but what if I never do. Because some idiot that happens to be my brother’s soulmate thinks he’s straight.”

“If it take anything to convince John he’s bi, I will be it. Mycroft, we’ll get you your Greg.” Sherlock awkwardly hugged his brother. Mycroft awkwardly hugged back. They both went to bed fractionally happier.

______

Sherlock opened the door to John lifting his hand to knock. “Oh! Hey, Sherlock. You want to walk to school together?”

Sherlock smiled. “Yeah.” He joined John and they descended the steps. “But I usually pick up Irene. And you pick up George.”

John decided not to nitpick the Greg thing. “Yeah.” They walked in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. The silence was comfortable. They both fit into it like puzzle pieces. They didn’t say a word till they reached Irene’s house. “She has a nice house.”

“Her parents died rich. And weren’t you here yesterday?”

“I was more concerned about the fact you knew four people who wanted to kill me. That’s not normal.”

“Nothing about my life is normal. Accept it.” Sherlock knocked on Irene’s door, and she came out with a smile on her face.

“Sherlock, I got a girlfriend. Her name’s Faith Smith.”

‘Faith’ came out with a smile, “Of course it is.” She pulled out a switchblade, and Sherlock moved to the side, narrowly avoiding her stab.

“Shit!” she swore, pulling off her wig to reveal greasy brown hair. “Hello brother.”

“What.” Sherlock didn’t bother putting a question mark on there, it was a statement. The entire thing was so confusing.

She grimaced, waving her hand at her face. “It’s me. Eurus. Your sister.”

“My sister is ten.”

Eurus leaned over and plucked a listening device from Sherlock’s coat. “You told me all I needed to know about time travel.”

“Okay, this isn’t weird at all.” John said sarcastically. “I have a sociopath for a soulmate, his sister can time travel, he’s sixteen and can solve basic murders, his best friend sells herself, and his brother is twenty and already has a place in government. Holy shit. Well, I have to go to school, you do too. I’m going to get Greg.”

Sherlock held his hand up. “Wait, you’re sure it’s Greg.”

“Yep.”

Sherlock spun to face John, “That’s Mycroft’s soulmate's name!”

“They don’t meet yet. Sherlock has to invite them both over to our house first.” Eurus tossed a ball into the air and caught it. “Go to school. Molly’s going to do something important today.”

Chapter Text

Molly did do something important. She confessed her feelings to Irene. Oh, and agreed to be in a throuple with Eurus. None of them were sure Eurus even had feelings for Irene, but she didn’t seem to be leaving, although they were all confused as to the legality of her existing in this time.

“Eurus, won’t mom and dad be confused?” Sherlock asked.

“I have to stay, It’s important.” They all groaned, and continued to hide her from little Eurus.

Eurus was still a manic. The number of times Sherlock had to break her out of jail because of the lack of information couldn’t be counted on two hands and two feet. Sherlock’s new coping method was counting to one thousand. John could count the number of unexciting day with Sherlock on zero fingers. Greg was confused as to why John seemed beat up all the time. And Irene was the only one who could calm Eurus down.

Right now Molly was playing piano accompaniment to Sherlock and Eurus harmonizing on the violin while Irene sang. John sat on his chair listing as he watched Sherlock play. They almost looked like a family, not a group of teens stuck in a horrible life. And Sherlock had fallen head over heels for John Watson. But John was dating a girl named Mary. And they were having a texting argument right now, as the song came to an end.

Mary: I don’t get it. You won’t let me into your life!

John: I let you meet Harry my parents and Sherlock. Who else do you need to know

Mary: Who do you hang out with all the time?

John: Sherlock Greg Molly Irene

Mary: IRENE ADLER?

John: yea

Mary: Are you fucking her?

John: she’s a lesbian and she’s dating Molly and a girl from another school

Mary: What’s her name?

John: Faith

Mary: Why can’t I meet them?

John: why don’t we facetime and i’ll introduce you

Mary: ok

He quickly alerted the others to their roles and called Mary. “Hey babe.” Sherlock rolled his eyes in the background at the display of affection, something Mary caught, but interpreted differently.

“Hey!” she smiled. “Introduce me?”

“You know Sherlock and Greg, these are Irene, Molly, and Faith.”

“Hello, Mary.”

“Hey Mary.”

“Hey, girl!”

“Hi!”

“What’s up?”

“Hi. So you're John’s friends?”

Eurus cut cut in before any of the rest could say anything. “You got it.” she shot Mary finger guns.

They talked for a while, Sherlock keeping in the back, only muttering consent, absolutely hating this girl that was the human representation of John’s straightness. After John hung up Eurus stated repeating “Eurus” over and over, hating the feel of Faith on her tongue. Irene pecked her on the cheek, in love with this homicidal maniac.

The video call with Mary was about to hurt John more than he had ever expected.

Chapter Text

Mary called John as soon as he got home, and he answered right away. “YOU’RE CHEATING ON ME!” she yelled through the phone.

“No…?”

“Yes you are! I saw Sherlock’s expression when you called me babe!”

“He just doesn’t like affection!”

“I thought you weren’t gay!”

“I’m not!”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME WITH A DUDE!”

“I’m not! He might be my soulmate, but I don’t like him!”

“He’s your soulmate?!” Mary’s shriek was so high, it almost made John’s window shatter. It didn't though, because I’m pretty sure that can’t actually can’t happen.

“You didn’t know?”

“I thought you didn’t have one!”

“It was the gossip of the school! Sherlock Holmes, nerdy bad boy, has a straight soulmate!”

“And you dated me as well!”

“I don’t like him!”

“Whatever. I’m breaking up with you. Bye.”

“What?!” John was cut off by the beep. He scowled before pulling on his sweater and marching to 221B Baker street, Sherlock’s side flat, Sherlock’s home outside of home, knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Sherlock said, answering the door. “Oh, John! Is everything okay?” He lowered his voice, “Are your parents fighting again? Is it Mary?”

“Hey Sherlock. No. Probably. Yes.” He entered the apartment, Sherlock shutting the door behind them.“What did Mary do? Do you need Mycroft to annihilate her?”

“She broke up with me. And preferably not, though she didn’t listen to a thing I said, so I wouldn’t be entirely opposed.”

“What happened?”

“She accused me of cheating.”

“With who? Sarah?”

“You.” John sat in the chair designated his, slumping down with a sigh. Sherlock looked at him in disbelief. “Did you make a face when I called her babe?”

“I might have rolled my eyes…”

“Sherlock!” John buried his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock didn’t know how to react.

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have told her I had a soulmate.”

Sherlock shook his head. “No! You both just assumed things. In any way, she is most likely to be in the wrong, because she didn’t listen to what you said.”

“Sherlock?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry to bring you into this.” Sherlock gazed at the man he loved, blissfully unaware that John was falling as well.

_______

When John got home he fell on the bed in the room he and Harry shared, buried his face in the pillow, and screamed.

“Johnny Boy?” Harry asked, “What is it?”

“I’m in love.”

Harry raised her eyebrow. “Good for you.”

“With a boy.”

“So? I’m dating a girl.”

He flipped onto his back and stared at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. “I’m straight.”

“Hate to break it to you, Johnny, but this pretty much means you’re not.”

“No, I can’t be gay! I’ve had girlfriends!”

Harry knocked a little too hard on her little brother’s forehead. “Hello? Anyone in there? You could be bi! Like your friend Greg? I doubt pan though.”

“Pan is Clara, right?”

Harry leaned back on the bed frame, stretching her long legs out and ruffling her short brown hair. “Yep.”

“Ok, got that, but I don’t think Sherlock likes me!”

Harry shrugged, “So? Just tell him, Johnny Boy.”

“No!”

“Suit yourself” Harry hopped up and walked the short distance across the room to her bed, laying down and taking out her phone. “What to come to a club with me?”

“I’m underage! And, come to think of it, so are you!”

“Ok… and?”

John rolled his eyes. “The answer’s no, dumbass.”

“Dumbass yourself!” She threw a pillow at John. “Leave. I have to get ready. I want to impress Clara.”

“She’ll love you whatever you wear.” John said, leaving the room with a final decision: he would never tell Sherlock how he felt.

Chapter Text

It was like that scene in a movie. The two characters sit or stand on two sides of one wall. They are in love, missing their other half, but neither thinks the other feels the same. And there’s some duet. Now this chapter could be based on some duet, but I don’t know enough love songs. So I’ll base it off “Last of the Real Ones” by Fall Out Boy. That’s totally not a weird song to base this off. This take place over a month or so.

"I was just an only child of the universe
And then I found you
And then I found you
You are the sun and I am just the planets
Spinning around you
Spinning around you."

Sherlock got a new job at the Planetarium. John went there each day to pick up an older girl, Harry, who also worked there. Sherlock assumed they were dating. He was jealous, John was his only real friend besides Irene, and they were all slowly drifting apart.

"Cause you're the last of a dying breed
Write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me"

“He’s just infuriating! Him and his perfect smile and mysterious cheekbones and everything!” John complained to his therapist. She heard the same things about Sherlock each session. She had found the sidewalk that had been remade outside filled with “J x S”s and “J loves S”s.

"You're just the last of the real ones
You're just the last of the real ones
You're just the last of the real ones"

Tired of the way the world worked, Sherlock jumped. He ended up in a hospital for day, in a coma. John and Irene cried at his side the whole time. They became better friends, their whole friend becoming the only people they could trust anymore. Even Eurus cried.

"I am a collapsing star with tunnel vision
But only for you
But only for you"

When Sherlock woke his first word was “John” It took will power for Sherlock not to kiss John when he hugged him tightly. And it took John will power too. They wanted to be in that moment forever, embracing, but Irene walked in and dropped the coffee before joining the hug and calling the others.
I will shield you from the waves
If they find you
I will protect you
I will protect you

John decided it was mission to protect Sherlock from ever jumping again. And every time he held Sherlock’s hand tightly he wanted to put his arm around Sherlock. And everytime he hugged Sherlock he wanted to kiss him. And everytime he played with Sherlock’s silky soft hair he wanted to grip it during a passionate make out session. And every time John held his hand Sherlock wanted to pull him closer. Everytime John hugged him he wanted to kiss him. And everytime John played with his hair, he wanted John to run his hands through it while snogging the hell out of him.

"I'm done with having dreams
The thing that I believe
Oh, you drain all the fear from me
I'm done with having dreams
The thing that I believe
You drain the fear from me"

John was the reason Sherlock stayed alive. For the small moments of platonic love with John. For the small hope John might love him back. That small hope for the impossible.

Because John was one of the last of the real ones, and so was Sherlock.

Chapter Text

They were in love, and it sucked. Everyone could tell. Eurus was basically milking her knowledge of what was going to happen by holding it over the others heads as they begged to know what would happen to John and Sherlock. Well, not everyone could tell.

“Irene, he’s so perfect, but he’ll never love me back!”

She hit him over the head with a rolled up fashion magazine. “Just”- hit- “fuck”- hit-” ing”-hit- “tell”- hit- “him”- hit.

Sherlock threw his arms in the air. “He doesn’t love me back! He’s straight.” Irene had to resist the urge to bury her face in her hands, remembering yesterday when Sherlock had gotten John coffee, without sugar, the way he liked it, and they had acted all around like a married couple.

_______

“Greg, he’s too perfect. I can’t deal with it. I’ve fallen for a sociopath.”

Greg remembering the same event as Irene, only told him to “suck it up, and go tell him!”

“No! He’ll be annoyed because I said I was straight, he’ll think I was lying, Greg, I can’t do it!”

“Go tell the infuriating man who can’t remember my name that you have developed a crush on him. GO!”

“NO!”

_______

Everytime the group tried to set them up it failed. The mistletoe? The minute John had spotted it he moved away hurriedly. The spin the bottle? John mysteriously got sick. Gay chicken? All the girls were dating and Sherlock had so much of a winning streak at every game that he and John would probably end up fucking by the end.

“I can’t do it anymore! They just need to kiss already!” Irene flopped onto her girlfriend’s laps. “They need to make the fuck out!”

“That’s my brother!” Eurus groaned. “But I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Were going to need some help.” Greg groaned.

Molly sighed, “Yep.”

“I know a person.” Irene and Eurus said at the same time.

“Who?”

Irene spoke first. “Mycroft.”

Eurus nodded, her girlfriend saying her words exactly, “Yeah. We’re going to need to bring in the big brother.”

Chapter Text

Greg was sent in first, by Eurus’ orders. He walked up to Mycroft and spoke the words on Mycroft’s arm. “Hey, I’m John’s friend, Greg. You know John, right? He’s Sherlock’s soulmate. Nice to meet you. Mycroft, John said?” It was a long sentence, but Greg wasn’t the best on cutting his thoughts short.

Mycroft pursed his lips, thinking of a witty reply in less than 1 second. “I assume that’s what he said. That is my name.” Or, come to think of it, a not so witty reply, so focused on the beauty of the man in front of him. But Greg only laughed and showed Mycroft his soulmark before continuing, ignoring the fact they were soulmates.

“We need you help to set John and Sherlock up.”

“We?” Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“My friends are outside.” Greg led Mycroft to the door, which he exited in prompt british fashion.

Greg pointed to each of them, “Molly, Irene, Eurus.”

“Like my sister. Also, hello Irene.”

Irene gave a two fingered lazy salute. “Hey. And yes, Eurus, exactly like your sister.”

“Hello, ‘brother mine’” Eurus laughed.

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wholeheartedly ask, what the, and I cannot stress this enough, FUCK.”

“I time traveled from when I was sixteen to help John and Sherlock get together and am now dating Molly and Irene and it’s really sweet and we’re a cute couple for a homicidal maniac, a sex worker, and a shy kitten.”

“Well, good job on the time machine, that’s not weird at all. Ok, so what do I do?”

“I don’t know!” Irene complained. “We’ve tried everything. They like each other, they just won’t confess their FUCKING feelings.”

“Everything typical must be avoided. We don’t want them to see it coming. I’m sure they think their best friend will try to set them up, and they’ll avoid it. Shoving them in a closet won’t work, Sherlock could pick the lock. Mistletoe is too risky, anything competitive will backfire. Neither John, nor Sherlock can flirt, so we can’t do never have I ever and hope it ends in a blushing mess. A romcom marathon is cringy, and will also just end in you three,” he pointed to Irene, Molly, and Eurus, “making out on the couch. I don’t know!”

“Hey.” Molly cut in, “Do you think it’s weird we’re talking about this in the middle of the street?”

“Yeah, people are going to hear us conspiring, maybe even John, or Sherlock.” Eurus added.

Irene shrugged, “My girlfriends are right. What if Sherlock or John hear us conspiring on how to set them up. They can’t know they like each other.”

“Too late.” A man in a familiar black coat with the collar turned up brushed past them. The group gave out a chorus of swearwords. Irene still knew the most.

The group separated in various states of unease, Greg pecking Mycroft in the lips before running off, leaving him a blushing mess who was rethinking his stance in soulmates.

Chapter Text

Sherlock entered his and John’s shared apartment (John had started living at 221B Baker street because of the mess his family was). John got up to greet him, and Sherlock grabbed the collar of his jacket and kissed him. Hard. They broke apart when they needed to breath.

“What was that?” John asked, but Sherlock cut him off.

“You bastard. You absolute bastard! Why didn’t you tell me that you liked me? We could have done that so much sooner.”

“You didn’t either, I think we’re fair. AND WHO TOLD YOU! IF IT WAS GREG I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“My brother and your friends have to stop scheming in the middle of the street.”

John smiled before pulling Sherlock in for another kiss. Their tongues clashed, and they had no idea where to put their hands, but they were happy, and I guess that’s all that matters but I’d think life and money and food would matter, but I have to write in fanfiction speak.

______

Irene poked her head into 221B to see how John and Sherlock were doing. The couple was making out on the couch, John running his hands through Sherlock’s curly brown hair. She retracted her head and ran out to tell the others. She just hoped they weren’t making out as well. But she didn’t mind getting into the action if Molly and Eurus were.

_______

Mycroft and Greg were just talking, with occasional peck on each other’s lips or cheeks when Irene told them the news. Greg got excited and hugged Mycroft, who, to the surprise of Irene, hugged back.

_______

Moly and Eurus were making out, and did invite Irene to join them after she told them the news, Eurus already knew, but Molly was excited.

Irene had fun that night.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t a fancy proposal. John took Sherlock to a fancy restaurant, but he didn’t propose until they were walking out in the park, the moon shining bright upon their faces. They had been dating since high school, their lives taking on a fanfiction glow. They were 21 now, barely old enough to buy alcohol, and told they were still too young to understand love. But that was a lie. Love was Sherlock gently kissing John’s nose, love was the passionate kisses and the sweet one and the soft ones and the sloppy ones. Love was when Sherlock FINALLY got the goddamn milk. Love was binge watching shows together and John softly kissing Sherlock to stop him from spoiling something he had never watched. Love was John and Sherlock, Sherlock and John. And John told all of this to Sherlock.

“So, Sherlock, will you…” He got down on one knee before Sherlock stopped him, waving his hand.

“Wait wait wait. Seriously?” He took out a ring. “This? Is our love life a fanfiction or something?”

John just laughed and kissed him.

It was a fall wedding, because Sherlock, John, and the author all preferred fall over spring. Mycroft officiated, and Greg was the best man, Irene the maid of honor. Eurus and Molly were bridesmaids, Harry and Clara groomsmen. Not time travel Eurus was the flower girl, even though she was 15 at the time. She was excited to time travel next year though, and was already building a machine. The Holmes parents were traditional, so Sherlock took on the role of bride, John the role of groom. The wedding was beautiful, and messy, and perfectly them.

All was well. (I’m sure there we some fuck ups and funny shit that happened, and weird stuff and nothing was well, but let me have my Harry Potter reference ending,)