sortinghat_rp

Entry tags:

07

I suppose I should be glad that, as tests and finals go, 6th year is kind of a breather year. The OWLs are behind you and the NEWTs are still looming on the horizon but otherwise not an immediate threat. I personally didn't think the OWLs were all that bad, even though my marks were just decent. Nothing to write home about, especially since the family wouldn't know what nocturnal birds have to do with tests anyway. Still, good luck to everyone who's got to square off against the big tests this year, especially if you're still trying to get your head sorted after the school's most recent bout with strangeness.

Ah yeah, about that, the odd mind and body stuff. The only thing I had to deal with was a body that was about 20 years older than it ought've been (and the same height I am now, of course). I remember the whole thing pretty clearly, but I think that's because my mind wasn't changed. So... for those of you who've been told that their brains were mixed up, do you remember anything about those days at all? Is it like you blacked out for a few days, or is it all a little fuzzy, or do you remember all of it clearly?

I ask because I'm sure I'm soon to have a certain conversation, and this'll give me some insight on where that talk will fall on a scale of "awkward" to "stupdendously awkward".

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

We're not going after the rat. Just... re-investigating the forest with half a mind on safety this time. Weapons are all well and good but close range attacks require protective gear as well. So I thought leather.

[He shrugs, wrapping his arms around his knees as he keeps his long legs tucked in close to his torso.]

But I suppose, with summer fast approaching, the forest will have to wait until next year. Shall we continue with floo powder as a mode of transport? We could rendezvous in Diagon Alley for London exploits. Or, I suppose, I could take a train. If we switch off who's turn it is to plan dates, I'll have to give quite a bit of thought into what we can do on the wizard side of the world when it's my turn--keeping in mind the potential for hospitalization in conflict with your sister's wedding.

Suppose you've got a point there. Even if we cast protection spells on ourselves, it'd probably be worth it to have some kind of defensive gear on, in case the spells fade or somehow get compromised. A lot of the forest seems to have a magic all its own, and who knows how it'll mix with ours.

[He watches Sherlock curl up into a bit of a ball out of the corner of his eye. He briefly wonders if Sherlock is uncomfortable in any way and, after a small moment of deliberation, he decides it might be wise to set another example. He uncrosses his legs from the pose he'd been in as he attempted to study, and stretches his legs out before him. He rolls his shoulders as well, loosening the knot his heavy book bag slightly.]

Floo powder might do. It worked when I went to your place, but your house is in the system. Probably has been for centuries. I'm not sure if the same can be said of my flat, since I'm the only wizard in a family of Muggles. But I am planning on taking the Apparition test soon, so that'll be an option too. Between that magical business and the train, I think we've got loads of ways to see each other often.

But yeah, I'd rather neither of us have a black eye in my sister's photos. Or some magical affliction that'd be even tougher to explain away to the relatives.

Ah, yes, the apparation test. Well, we can schedule it together I suppose. Makes everything easier in the long run. How does broom riding in dragon territory sound, though? Too dangerous?

[So hard to think of what will be fun, what will be mostly safe, and what will be romantic. He's rather given up on the latter. If they both enjoy themselves then surely it would be a good date. He's got time to research.

He watches John adjust his posture, keying in on the little things that make it rather obvious John very much cares about his grades as the year winds down. It's as much that as anything else that means the forest will have to wait. John wants to study and do well and Sherlock will just have to find something else to entertain himself with in the mean time.]

[Okay, that suggestion gets John goggling a bit.]

It's been a while since I was on the Quidditch team, but I reckon I can remember the ropes. But...

[He grins a bit.]

You've ridden brooms before? Recreationally or for sport I mean, stuff outside of the flying classes everyone's got to take in first year.

I'm a wizard. It's one of the oldest modes of transportation and a reasonable recreational habit. Like a bike. Only less sweaty.

Ha, I might think that way due to the fact that the moment I could sit on a broom without falling over, I thought of it as an extension of Quidditch. Not quite up to par with rugby, but certainly fun enough.

[He smirks at Sherlock.]

Though now I'm imagining little you flying around above Mycroft as he's trying to study and dropping buckets of water on him. How close am I to the mark?

[Sherlock smirks a little bit. John knows him quite well.]

Frogs, actually. Wet wasn't nearly as interesting as flailing to rid his person of amphibians.

Do you play rugby in the summer?

[The image of Mycroft trying desperately to get a frog from out the back of his shirt while Sherlock cackles overhead is entirely too much and John finds himself laughing so hard that he has to hold his sides.]

Oh God. That's too good. [He takes a few deep breathes, trying to reign in the giggles.] I'm a bit jealous, now. I only got to throw frogs at my sister the old fashioned way, no magic involved.

As for rugby, I might do. I'm out of practice, since the last time I played was the early bit of the summer before last, before... well, you know. But I wouldn't mind taking it up again.

[Sherlock chuckles with John. Impossible not to. John's laugh is lovely.]

If you do put in a game, I might be interested in watching how it's done. And we never did get in that boxing match. I suppose there's all sorts of sporting activities we could enjoy.

Sure, though whether or not you'd want to participate in the game after watching is another matter. Rugby's one of those sports where being compact and sturdy is an advantage. Between that and us punching each other in the name of gentlemanly sport, it'll be like having our own violent Olympics.

And if any of my mates find out we're dating and give us grief about how rugby and boxing aren't musical theatre at West End, I'll make sure to head-butt them in the solar plexus extra hard during a match.

[Sherlock quirks his left brow in surprise.]

You're surprisingly accepting of other people's knowledge of this. It's not that I thought you'd want us to carry on in secret but... well, if it turns out I'm more trouble than I'm worth in that capacity, you're not going to live down the fact you dated another male.

[John gives a little shrug.]

Well, I did say "if they find out". Though you're right, I'd rather not have us jump through hoops to keep it a secret no matter what.

And, well, if it doesn't work out between us and we do decide to just be friends, then... I don't know, I'll figure out something. [He fidgets slightly, feeling a bit of an uncomfortable knot in his stomach at the idea.] But going into something like this with that kind of thing in mind is just no good. Kind of gives the impression that it's doomed from the start, you know? Best to take this kind of thing a step at a time without big gloomy expectations, otherwise you're writing a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I'm just being realistic. Pessimism would be that you would want nothing to do with me ever again. Obviously impossible. You'd be far too bored and when you weren't bored you'd be worried I'd gone and put myself in harms way when you weren't looking. You're quite stuck with me one way or another. I like this way but I'm not going to work out the best location to settle down after our marriage either.

[He knows something John doesn't. Something that will likely cause an argument. Might make John not want to speak to him for a while. And as much as he will keep it a secret, he's not dumb enough to think it will always remain one.]

[John gives a snort at that.]

So long as we stick to that healthy middle ground between the two crazy zones of "doomed doomed it's all going to go to shit" and "what do you think of this wedding venue because too bad I've already booked it", then we're good. We haven't even been on an official first date yet; it's way, way, waaaaaaaay too early to be concerned with either of those options.

Fine. But no wedding anyway. You think I'd honestly go in for something so pointlessly traditional?

[He smiled at John.]

So what do I call you? My dating partner? My special friend? My beau?

No, you're definitely not the type. In the extremely unlikely event that you did want to get married, I expect I'd find out about it after waking up with a splitting headache, a ring on my finger, and an 8 hour gap in my memory. Possibly while tied to a tree in the middle of an empty field. Needless to say I'm not ready for anything like that yet, thanks.

I dunno. 'Dating partner' just sounds odd, 'special friend' makes it sound like I need a helmet, and 'beau' is... too French. What's wrong with something common like 'boyfriend'?

I applaud your creativity in expectations. It will be challenging to live up to.

Last time you said boyfriend was an elevation from dating status. I thought you wanted to go slow.

That's not a challenge! That's a worst case scenario.

True, but there aren't many terms for that weird area between deciding to date and being an official 'thing'. At least not many that don't sound odd in one way or another. You could just, y'know, call me by my name.

I bet I can prove that wrong.

I suppose you're right. John works but if Tony asks me what you are, I'm not so certain 'My John' is entirely appropriate.

[John gives him a long look at that, chewing a bit on his lower lip. Finally, he takes a deep breath.] No. Nope, I can do it it. I can resist taking that bet.

Agh, Tony. Well, we'll just... improvise, I guess, if he asks. It's not very likely, but there'd be some kind of wonderful justice if he were the last person in school to find out about this.

Tony might already know, unfortunately. Apparently I have a tell. Apparently I get rather giddy when interacting with you. Can't imagine why.

[Sherlock unfolds his legs and leans closer to John, smirking rather smugly.]

I fully intend to earn the title of boyfriend, though.

I got really lucky as roommates are concerned. They tell me to quit giggling and writing in the journal late at night sometimes, but they never pry like Tony does.

[John grins, relieved that Sherlock is loosening up a little. He leans over a bit more and bumps Sherlock cheekily with his shoulder.]

Odds are definitely in your favor there, yeah.

Lucky you indeed with your age appropriate roommates.

[Sherlock leans over and kisses John's cheek. Some form of romantic physicality was certainly required to set things apart from the way they had been.]

Everyone keeps to their own beds and there's never once been a case of shenanigans. You get a good night's sleep when you know there's no precocious twits who've skipped grades about.

But at least it's impossible to get bored in your dorm.

[John flushes a little at the kiss, feeling his stomach do a little flip. But it's a pleasant sensation and, to show Sherlock his appreciation, he moves closer until they're pressed side-to-side.]

Impossible to get things done as well. Bruce won't hand over complete control of the room to me. It's a room full of ego just waiting to explode. The founders were idiots.

[Sherlock likes John being right there and relaxes his weight against him slightly.]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]

[Action]