Secretly I Think You Knew

Make New Friends and Well, There are No Old...

    "Hey Sherlock." John's voice muttered from above him. Sherlock blinked, looking up so see John smiling down on him, enveloped in the light streaming in from the windows on the other side of the room. He looked angelic, he looked so beautiful.
"John, my John." Sherlock muttered dreamily. John just laughed, sitting on the edge of Sherlock's desk and clicking his led pencil a couple of times.
"No offense, I mean, I love having you on my desk, but what are you doing?" Sherlock asked. John just laughed, looking at Sherlock with a confused look on his face, as if Sherlock's obliviousness worried him.
"We're supposed to get in groups, discuss a paragraph or whatever." John shrugged, sinking into the chair next to Sherlock's and waving a piece of paper in front of him.
"Paragraph, that's...terrible." Sherlock sighed.
"I agree." John agreed, letting the paper float silently onto the desk and uncapping a pen (where he got it, Sherlock had no idea, but since he had forgotten his backpack he had to have found a writing utensil somewhere) and taking Sherlock's hand. A small instinct of Sherlock's was obviously still taking part, the small part of Sherlock's brain that was still getting used to its freedom, because as soon as John's skin touched Sherlock's, he pulled his hand away.
"Woah, are you..." John started, looking worried and a little bit hurt.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." Sherlock muttered, giving his hand back to John, who took it gently, as if afraid to somehow hurt Sherlock's delicate skin.
"Are you alright?" John asked, his eyes alight with worry.
"I'm fine, just conditioned to pull away." Sherlock assured, waving it off as something that happened all the time. In truth though, it did happen all the time. He was so used to pulling his hand away that it almost felt weird letting John's fingers take his own.
"It's alright; I'm not going to hurt you." John assured, holding Sherlock's hand palm up and beginning to draw something on it.
"I swear to god, if you draw something embarrassing I'll put you in the freezer." Sherlock snapped. John just laughed, shaking his head.
"That's a legitimate concern of mine Sherlock." John laughed.
"I wouldn't, of course. That happened one time too many." Sherlock admitted. John nodded, continuing to draw while Sherlock skimmed over the paragraph they were supposed to read. Something on Oscar Wilde, Sherlock didn't really pay much attention and it was nearly impossible to read, obviously there was something wrong with the copier because the text was either too light to read or covered in big, dark ink blots.
"Anything interesting?" John asked, letting Sherlock's hand go and capping his pen.
"It's English class, what do you think?" Sherlock asked, sliding the paper over and inspecting John's piece of art. It was just a little heart on his palm, but for some reason it made Sherlock smile a little bit too much. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve, almost literally.
"How about over here, what are your opinions on how Oscar Wilde's childhood impacted his writing?" the teacher asked, walking over and hovering over the desks occupied by Sherlock and John.
"What?" John asked blankly.
"I believe that...um...the lack of...of his father..." Sherlock started, trying to skim as quickly as possible without really picking anything logical up.
"Pay attention you two, or I shall have you work alone." She threatened, sweeping away without much of a punishment. Sherlock groaned, tapping his fingers against his desk and reading the whole paper, front to back, just in case she decided to bully them during the class discussion. Thankfully the bell rung before Sherlock needed to present his knowledge, so now more of his brain was filled with useless information about Oscar Wilde's childhood when he could be filling it with something more influential, like the way John had to roll up Sherlock's shirt sleeves to make sure his little hands were able to reach out. That was important. Sherlock packed up his bag and lead the way out of the classroom, John following close behind.
"Do you need anything, paper, a pencil?" Sherlock asked as they walked.
"Oh, a pencil would be lovely. Do you happen to have my history homework?" John asked with a laugh.
"I wish I could help, I really do, and I'm sorry you weren't able to get your things last night, and I really don't want to get you in trouble because of what happened." Sherlock insisted. John just laughed, shaking his head in reassurance.
"Sherlock I have never been happier with how I had spent a night." John assured. "I wouldn't change anything."
"Oh, well, that's good. It's good to know you're happy with a bit of a murder mystery." Sherlock shrugged, giggling a little bit to himself as he stopped at his locker to fish a pencil out of his bag for John.
"I'll see you at lunch, right?" John asked as Sherlock grabbed his pencil case.
"Definitely." Sherlock agreed.
"Where do you go when you're not at lunch? The other day, you weren't there. I was worried." John admitted.
"Oh, I just sort of wander." Sherlock shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."
"I'm guessing you won't be sitting at my table thought, will you?" John asked.
"Even though it might be a little bit less awkward, no, I don't think that would be a good idea. At least not now." Sherlock shrugged, pulling out an orange led pencil and shaking it to make sure there was still led in it. When it clicked and jingled Sherlock smiled, handing it to John proudly.
"There you go." He said, as if it were some sort of rare treasure.
"Thank you very much." John said, pocketing the pencil thankfully.
"So it's off to science with me." Sherlock sighed, zipping up his backpack and starting to unlock his locker.
"I better be off, history is calling my name." John said. Sherlock just frowned, realizing this would be the first part they'll truly leave each other since last night.
"Well, alright then, I guess I'll..." his sentence was cut off by John, who pulled his face down and planted a kiss on his lips, unashamed and definitely not secretive at all.
"I'll see you later." John decided, pulling away with a smile and disappearing down the hallway. Sherlock was left a little bit dazed, smiling a bit to himself as he pulled his locker open.
"Dude, that is just wrong." insisted a boy walking past, one of those delinquents with sagging pants and backwards baseball caps on. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, not really thinking of an appropriate insult quick enough.
"Keep walking or you won't be able to walk for a month." warned another voice, making Sherlock turn in surprise, half expecting John to have returned for another kiss. Instead it was Greg, appearing at Sherlock's side and glaring the boy down. Obviously the respectable member of society was able to insult Sherlock without fear, but in the presence of a muscular soccer player he backed down, walking off and pulling the most disgusted face he could. Sherlock looked down in confusion, wondering why on earth Greg would help him.
"Thank you." Sherlock muttered, switching his English book for a science one and giving Greg a confused look.
"He shouldn't be talking; he's been suspended four times." Greg snapped.
"For what?" Sherlock wondered.
"Oh, drugs, unruly behavior, fights, all the good stuff. I'm surprised he's still in school." Greg admitted.
"Even the drug dealers need some sort of education." Sherlock sighed. Greg laughed in agreement, but Sherlock just shut his locker, wondering why he hadn't left yet.
"Not that I'm not grateful...I'm just wondering what exactly you're doing next to my locker." Sherlock muttered.
"Oh, I'm walking with you, we're in the same class, remember?" Greg asked. Sherlock nodded, suddenly remembering that he had spent most of his time in science trying not to make awkward eye contact with Greg on the other side of the room.
"Yes, science, I remember." Sherlock agreed, starting down the hall, expecting Greg to follow.
"So I know I'm not really the one to do this, and John can definitely handle himself, but I suppose you should get a fair warning. John's a good kid, alright, he's brilliant and I'm sure that if he finds you a worthy partner than I am in no position to argue, and obviously he likes you a lot. But do not ever, ever hurt him, physically, mentally, I don't care. Don't break his heart literally or metaphorically, and don't make him do things he's not comfortable with." Greg warned. Sherlock blinked, for a moment he wondered if Greg knew what happened in the freezer the night before. Sherlock had been very close to hurting John, permanently hurting him.
"I would never hurt him; he's all I've ever wanted in a person." Sherlock assured, feeling a bit awkward about talking about John behind his back. In fact, it was just awkward talking to someone who wasn't John. It was awkward just talking in general.
"I mean, I haven't known you long, in fact I'm not quite sure I know you at all, but I can only assume you're a good kid as well." Greg decided.
"I am. I think I am." Sherlock admitted.
"Modesty, there we go, that's a good sign." Greg said with an approving smile. Sherlock nodded, continuing walking but trying to stay at a reasonable speed to make sure he didn't leave Greg in the dust. Even though he was a bit taller than John, Greg didn't have a very long stride and therefore he didn't walk fast at all.
"I hope this isn't all too sudden for you, I mean, I know I've kind of been around for a little bit, John must've mentioned me, and I nearly fainted at your lunch table, so you must have a general, if not bad, picture of who I am." Sherlock shrugged.
"I've noticed you before, we never spoke, but I knew who you were. To be honest, when John first said he was friends with you I was a bit weirded out, I kind of saw you more as part of the furniture to be honest." Greg shrugged.
"He definitely dragged me out of my shell, that's for sure. A couple of months ago, to think that I would have a boyfriend, that's just...it would've made me so happy, astonished, but happy." Sherlock admitted.
"Good, I like to hear that you're happy and I like to hear that John is happy. Just make sure it stays that way." Greg insisted.
"Don't worry; his love has not gone misplaced." Sherlock assured. Greg nodded, obviously not knowing how to respond to that. Thankfully though they were walking into the science classroom, so he didn't need to say anything at all, and they went their separate ways. Sherlock sank into his seat near the back corner, crossing his arms and staring at the desk in front of him, wanting nothing more than to get lost in his thoughts about John. What a beautiful boy, what a beautiful creation, he truly was a masterpiece. To think that he loved Sherlock and Sherlock was allowed to love him, it was just so perfect, Sherlock felt as if every time his thoughts drifted to John Watson that his heart might explode. That was a nice ironic way to die, was it not? Science class always seemed to drag, especially since it was the first class without John, so he was just sort of recovering from the high John's presence gave him. Today though, it was taking hours, with the ghost of John's kiss still clinging to his lips, the little heart doodled on his palm, and the ever looming idea that Greg might be looking his way, so he had to make sure he looked somewhat studious. If Greg was somehow going to be the protective father then so be it, Sherlock would have to live up to his expectations, whatever those may be. Sherlock would do whatever he needed to win Greg's trust, because like it or not, neither of them were going anywhere for a long time. When the class was finally over, Greg lingered in the doorway, obviously waiting for Sherlock as he threw his binder and some papers into his backpack, running a bit late. Sherlock scrambled to catch up, since both of them were obviously going the same place, John's locker.
"So that was very intellectually exciting." Greg muttered sarcastically.
"Oh, yes, fascinating." Sherlock agreed, not sure what Greg was expecting him to say.
"Sherlock, just because I was the one to warn you doesn't mean you have to agree with everything I say. Trust me, it was horrible, there's no reason to lie." Greg insisted.
"I wasn't...ya, alright." Sherlock agreed, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to argue. When they arrived at John's locker he wasn't there, of course. Sherlock hadn't had the time to pack a lunch, so both of them were going to have to live off the slop provided at the cafeteria. Thankfully Sherlock had remembered to slip a couple of dollars into his pocket, enough to cover himself and another lunch, should John forget. The two loitered a little bit at John's locker, an awkward silence filling the very loud, annoying hallway. Finally John came out of nowhere, smiling at the two as he came up.
"Well don't I feel special?" he asked with a little laugh.
"Don't make a fuss Watson; I'm only here because Sherlock made me come." Greg insisted.
"Wait, what? I didn't make..." Sherlock started, but Greg only laughed.
"I'm kidding, no need to get all..." Greg made a hissing face, clawing at the air as if trying to impersonate an angry cat. Obviously that mime was supposed to be the end of his sentence, and Sherlock and John just stared at him in confusion.
"Okay well, nice to see you Greg." John decided, pushing through the two of them to get to his locker, dropping his history book into it and turning with a great sigh.
"I forgot my homework, and now my history teacher is all mad at me." John admitted with a scowl.
"Well you can turn it in tomorrow, right?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, ya, but he seems to be all up in arms that I had forgotten my backpack." John groaned.
"That's a pretty stupid thing for you to do, honestly. What even happened last night?" Greg asked, looking at the two of them, obviously the poor rusty unused gears in his brain were starting to turn.
"Wait a second, dinner, Sherlock's shirt, no backpack, oh my god." He muttered.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong." John decided. A knowing smile just grew on Greg's face, and soon he was just glaring at the two of them, looking very pleased with himself.
"Oh my god." He muttered again. "You two..."
"Let's go down to lunch." Sherlock decided, cutting him off just in time. He took John's hand quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up as he started to walk away.
"Don't avoid me; I'm right, aren't I?" Greg called, scampering after them.
"You're not right Greg." John defended, making sure to walk fast enough to keep Greg at bay. Sherlock was fine with this, after really just meeting Greg about an hour ago and wanting to make a good impression on him, this really didn't seem like a good topic of conversation.
"That's a yes if I've ever heard one." Greg insisted.
"Think what you want Greg, just know you're wrong." John sighed.
"Did you bring lunch money?" Sherlock asked. John groaned, looking about ready to smack himself in the head.
"That was just stupid." he decided.
"It's alright; I've got enough for both of us. Thought you might forget it." Sherlock admitted, holding up a twenty dollar bill with a proud smile.
"Always thinking, yet another reason why I love you." John insisted, walking close enough to Sherlock so that he could lean his head on his shoulder, drawing even more unneeded attention to the two of them. Obviously these people hadn't ever seen two people in love, or they wouldn't be gawking so much.