Work Text:
In the exam-induced silence of the University classroom, the vibration of Sherlock’s phone against his desk sounded like the low, dull rumble of earth tremors.
Why would John call when he knew Sherlock was in class? Idiot.
Student heads popped up around the room, frightened of impending doom. When they realized it was someone’s phone, they were terrified. (Everyone on campus knew that Mr. Holmes’ room was a no-phone zone, and he wouldn’t even hesitate to shred a test paper. Set it on fire. Rumors even swirled that once, ONCE, he even ate a student’s exam after she took her phone out to see how much time was left.)
Sherlock sat behind his desk, staring at the students and aggressively ignoring his phone. The pink blush racing up his neck betrayed his rigid posture and forced irritation. Well, not completely forced. The phone buzzed again.
A tiny voice squeaked from a girl in the front row, her jaw trembling. “It’s not mine.”
Sherlock clenched his teeth when he heard that voice. It ripped across his last nerve like a knife against a plate. He disliked this girl and her—suck-upedness, who’d done everything in her power to get on his good side except bring him a well-polished red apple. He counted to 10. He counted 5 more before he answered the teacher’s pet. “Yes, Danielle. I know. It’s…it’s mine.”
Gasps rolled through the classroom. Mr. Holmes broke a rule? They thought but didn’t dare say. Sherlock clapped his hands twice to redirect the students. “You have 30 minutes left to your exam. Return to work.”
The students buried their heads in their exam books, scribbling to make up for lost time. Sherlock shook his head, frustrated by John. He knew better than to call.
His stomach flip-flopped. Maybe something was wrong. Was something wrong?
Is something wrong? If not, stop calling—SHW
No, something is really right! #lovewins
What does that even mean? Honestly. Sherlock rolled his eyes, realizing that often John was just as ridiculous as these students. He shoved his phone in his jacket’s breast pocket and scanned the room, looking for any cheating shenanigans.
His phone buzzed against his chest. John, again. This is getting ridiculous.
In class. Can’t talk. Stop calling. --SHW
Rapid fire, John texted Sherlock a series of messages. Emojis of party horns and thumbs up. Gifs of rainbow flags waving. A Vine of two men kissing.
In class. Can’t text either. Stop. --SHW
John’s texts stopped. Finally. Sherlock pushed away from the desk, dropping the phone back into this breast pocket. In bright red marker against the white dry-erase board, he wrote 20 MIN REMAINING, before he moved to the students’ desk, snaking his way up and down the rows.
“Uh, Mr. Holmes, your pocket’s buzzing again. You might as well answer it,” Danielle said, finished with her exam and sitting with her hands folded over it to keep anyone from stealing it.
Sherlock sighed, hating that the teacher’s pet made any sense today.
911! AND. 999!
Emergency.
His fingers trembled around the phone. Stiff-kneed, he walked out of the row to lean against his desk. He dialed John, moving mindlessly through the process.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, and I know you’re teaching, but this is history!” John’s words rushed past Sherlock, only the joy in them registering. “The Supreme Court ruled in favor of gay marriage. Love wins! We win. Turn on NPR. The President’s going to speak. Let the kids hear it. I love you.” With an air kiss, John hung up.
Sherlock found the live broadcast online.
“Ladies and Gentlemen: put your pens down please.”
Grumbles of protest—as much as anyone would dare—met Sherlock’s command.
“Today, the US Supreme Court ruled in favor of gay marriage, making it legal in all 50 states for same-sex couples to marry. President Obama will be speaking in a moment. I would like to play the broadcast for you, because this is history in the making. Like Brown v. The Board of Education. Like Roe v. Wade.”
He collected their test papers and erased the board, saying, “If you feel you cannot stay, you may leave.” Sherlock stood against his desk, waiting for an ugly comment, something mumbled under someone’s breath, but no one moved. They didn’t stuff their textbooks into their backpacks. They didn’t talk to a neighbor. They sat in silence and waited for the President to speak.
“Good morning. Our nation was founded on a bedrock principle that we are all created equal. The project of each generation is to bridge the meaning of those founding words with the realities of changing times -- a never-ending quest to ensure those words ring true for every single American…”
Sherlock opened his iMessage over the broadcast to text John.
Marry me?—SHW
We’re already married, you goof.
Yes, but now we can get married in Florida.—SHW
Florida passed the law last year.
Now we can wed anywhere in America. I feel…accepted. YEARS from now, people
will ask each other what they were doing on June 26, 2015. History.—SHW
I’ll say I was talking to my best friend. My husband. And yes, I’ll marry you. Everywhere. Every time. <3 <3 <3
“What an extraordinary achievement. What a vindication of the belief that ordinary people can do extraordinary things. What a reminder of what Bobby Kennedy once said about how small actions can be like pebbles being thrown into a still lake, and ripples of hope cascade outwards and change the world.
Those countless, often anonymous heroes -- they deserve our thanks. They should be very proud. America should be very proud.”
Over the applause of the audience in the White House Rose Garden, Sherlock thanked the students for staying and taking part in this momentous event. He picked up the stack of papers and slipped them into the trash can.
“You all receive an A for this exam. Today, we are all equal. Go home and kiss someone you love.”
He turned to the board, and in the vivid red and blue markers, left a message for the next class.
#LoveWins.