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WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Tony Stark
TONE: Bros
RATING: PG
WHEN: Around now
WHERE: Ravenclaw 6th year boy's dorm
WHAT: Sherlock's still writing sad music. Tony's got a lot of good going for him.
STATUS: WIP

Sometimes Sherlock did not like words. They were ambiguous, they often carried more than one possible meaning and inference could always be made on honesty. It was for that reason that he preferred music when words would not do. Sometimes when he was angry he just made noise on the violin, screeching out nonsense in place of the static of his rage. When he was happy, there were many songs he knew that would either garner him praise or simply transmit that feeling of approachability and merriment. Though he knew sad songs, none of them felt quite right for this particular wordlessness. Some were sad with an underlying anger, some were sad with despair writing in between the measures. That wasn't what this was. So there was little else to do but make the sounds himself until they made sense and were expressed and existed outside himself as something tangible and real.

He spent most of his free time on it, only ceasing when demanded to by other students. He really didn't care that he was annoying them; he had more important things to do.

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He sighs shaking his head.

"Why is it coming first?"

"Because it's not finished. It needs an ending." Which made the utmost sense. All the same, he didn't expect Tony to get it. "What about you and Herbert? That have a happy ending?"

He rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to buy him some muggle science things. And he's back to hating me like normal.. I think."

Tony shrugs. Despite clearing everything up with Herbert, more or less. Tony still wasn't entirely sure what happened between them.

"Far more interesting, I suppose, is Bruce's reaction to all this. Which seems to be to forgo legality and date a fourteen year old. Congratulations; you're officially jail bait."

"Okay, really isn't jail bait when you're only two years younger. And he's, being annoyingly stubborn about what we can do..."

He waves his hand dismissively. Before flopping back on Bruce's bed.

"Spoken to John at all?"

Technicalities. Dramatics were much more fun. "Good on Bruce, I suppose. Not that two years is going to do much in the way of changing you."

"But yes, John and I have spoken--minimally but adequately. We've discussed what happened and how to progress from here. I requested we take time off from one another to... sort things out, I suppose."

"I'm just hoping I can wear him down, or find a loop hole."

Tony sits there and mulls it over for a moment then sits up.

"You want to take a break to sort things out?"

"A loophole in morality? Good luck. If anyone can do it... hm." Maybe not.

Sherlock sat on his bed, rubbing at his neck which felt pinched from the repetitive angle of holding down his instrument. "Yes, a break. There's a lot to work through on an independent level. A reprieve in the time between lip-locked and normal should help put things back in perspective."

"Not morality. Law, if I can prove it's not illegal, then well. It's legal so there's no moral issue to worry about."

Tony raises an eyebrow before shrugging of his robe onto Bruce's bed, clearly not planing on hanging it up at any point, then stands and comes over to Sherlock's bed to lean on the lamp post.

"What's there to think through? Was it great? Do you want to keep doing it? How easy is it for you to keep doing it? That's really all you need to think about. How it's taken even this long is beyond even me."

Sherlock scowls as he slides his violin case into his chest.

"We're not together, Tony. We're not going to get together. What happened was a mistake. We're not going to speak of it after this. It's just... something to be forgotten." Much as it hurt his chest to believe so.

"Why? Just because he's 'Three houses'? I mean really, the way he puts up with you. You're pretty much dating already."

Tony slips his hands into his pocket. It's not like he can't relate to this, and he was kind of uncharacteristic in not actively trying to make Bruce his boyfriend, but seeing Sherlock like this was frustrating.

"John likes girls, yes, but more than that he doesn't like me. Not like that. Putting up with me isn't the same as... having affection for me." He layed back on his bed, staring up at the canopy. "You put up with me and no one's saying you and I should start another snog fest. Though, point of reference, I'm pretty good. Now, anyway."

"Okay, you do know that I don't count right? Bruce, Herbert and I have to put up with you if we want to be able to sleep at night or not, you know, try to fill you full of sand. That's a room mate thing. John has to deal with well boring Hufflepuffs in his room. He willingly subjects himself to you. How many people can you say do that. Again, I don't count because we don't get bored around each other."

He thinks for a moment.

"And just because no one's said it, doesn't mean that no one's thought it at least once. Some of the people here are strange."

"This is by far the weirdest way anyone has ever tried to cheer me up."

He shakes his head.

"Not trying to cheer you up."

He glance at the violin case, before looking back at Sherlock.

"Just presenting facts, and well, trying to keep you away from that violin."

"Your facts aren't required. I have my own. And as recent occurrences have proven, mine are far superior to yours." He sits up, pushing Tony to go away. "And you'll simply have to tolerate the violin until I'm done with my composition."

"Some facts. You're current ones a pessimistic, even for you."

Tony bats at him, refusing to move from his leaning position.

"Tolerate? I don't tolerate anything unless I have to. And there's a perfectly good astrology tower that no one likes being in that you can use."

"This is as much my room as yours. Why don't you take Bruce up to the tower and make use of it and leave me to my room?"

He shoved at him again but didn't persist much past one final push.

"Yeah, last I looked I wasn't kissing Bruce for hours on end... That would be fun though. Also, more importantly. I'm not moping."

He bats at the hand as he's pushed one more time, barely even trying to push him away, the action was almost in place of him saying 'quit it' in an annoyed tone.

"I'm not moping." He pouted as he sat back on his elbows. "Do I look sad to you?"

Tony just stares at him for a moment then gestures at his with his left hand.

"Are you really saying that, with a face like this? Because that's a mopey little pout right there. I know because I cornered the market on that skill when I was 6."

Sherlock scowled, looking away.

"Fine. I'll compose in the common room. Happy?

Sighing, Tony rolls his eyes.

"You do know it's more the fact you use this as you're only personal angst machine than the music itself, right?"

"I understand that you wish for me to find quieter outlets, yes. Seeing as this isn't habitual I can't pretend not to be annoyed at your insistence but I imagine it's as much to relieve your own ears as to be able to inform Bruce you have returned the dorm room to its previous levels of sound." Sherlock rolls his eyes at him. "White Knight syndrome is what I think it's referred to as. Primitive evolution remnant that makes you posture to impress a mate."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Except he's been the one telling me to just leave you alone, so really he's probably going to be annoyed but unsurprised I ignored him."

Tony pushes off from the post to go to his trunk and rifle around for some food, an then pulls out some trail mix and starts to eat it.

"I'm not white knighting for anyone other than my own ears."