This is the first time I have ever written fan fiction (just as a warning), but I would love to hear what you think. There are probably some spellings errors, and to all the grammar nazis out there, I am truly sorry. Dyslexia, mixed with English as a second language and a bad spellchecker can take some of the blame.
Chapter 1: Library
John was in the library again. He didn´t need to study, not really, he just wanted to see him again. Sitting down at a table near the entrance, he smiled at the librarian. He had talked to her before, when he came here to really study. She smiled back at him shyly, pushing her hazel hair behind ear. Molly Hooper, librarian in every way. John opened his bag and found his textbook and notepad to take some notes, but he ended up doodling though. Waiting. He had come to the library everyday that week. It had all started three weeks ago; he had actually needed to study then. He had taken one of his many stares into the air, because it was better than reading, if not just as boring, breaks when he saw him across the room. He had been in the company of Molly Hooper, walking behind him trying to get a word in while he pulled book after book of the shelves. Tall and lanky, his black curls framing his long face he looked quite irritated, it was a bizarre scene, in which Molly ended up carrying most of his books for him. John had been puzzled, he seemed to be picking books at random the speed he was going or he had to have memorized their place, which would be stupid. He talked in a constant stream till Molly had finally checked out all his books and he was ready to leave. The entire time Molly had tried her most charming smile, straightening her skirt one to many times. He supposed the fellow could possibly be considered handsome by some people, no Brad Pitt, but in a Steven Fry way, sure.
That had been the beginning of it, but because of John´s many looking-into-the-air breaks that was not his last visit the to library that week, the next time. The black haired man was sitting at one of the tables furthest inn, closer to the stacks, he was reading a gigantic book, which had to have a thick layer of dust covering it. John sat at his usual spot near the door, picking up his book and starting to read again. Suddenly a deep voice echoed highly through the library, "Obviously!" followed by many turned heads towards the back where the black haired man closed the book with a loud band. Molly was entering a side door with a cup of coffee which she dropped on the floor. Buttoning his dark coat and turning the collar up, got up from his chair handed the heavy book to Molly and said something to her, which she returned with an apologetic smile.
John asked Molly that day who the fellow was, she had blushed deeply pink and said "Sherlock Holmes, he is a student at the University too, though I am not really sure what he studies, it seems to be everything." So three weeks later, three weeks with concealed stares across the library trying to figure out more about this "Sherlock Holmes" hadn´t led to much. He was always alone and seemed to always to hurrying. John had not tried to speak with him yet, there seemed to be no room for conversation in his hurried studies. Though words fell out of his mouth in a constant stream or sometimes not at all when Molly brought him his coffee.
This time when he entered he was different, coat flying behind him he looked bored, not irritated or excited as he had previously, not in such a hurry either. Partially ignoring Molly, only giving her a slow look he went inn between the rows of shelves. John waited for him to come out again with armfuls of books, but 5 minutes, 10 minutes passed and nothing.
John felt the curiosity bubbling in the pit of his stomach, slowly he got up and walked over to the shelves, they were tall, taller than him, taller than this Holmes, with their front facing the room. He looked down the corridor Holmes had ventured, but it was disappointingly empty. Talking a step forward he looked down the crossing path between the shelves. Nothing. He continued walking down, looking both ways between the shelves for a glimpse of him. He saw an old professor type with his head in a book, a young kid, probably also at university sleeping with his back up against a shelf and a couple that separated quickly with him entering their file. He had almost reached the back wall when we suddenly walked into him, surprise caught John and he fell backwards. A bunch of old magazines flew everywhere, many landing on John where he lay on his back on the floor. Sherlock looked a bit surprised as well, just clutching a few magazines now he looked down at John.
"Sorry", John mumbled hurriedly, embarrassed that his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He sat up and took the bunch of magazines that had landed on him in his hands. It was a weird collection, everything from science magazines, to newspapers, women's magazines and math monthly. John looked at them a bit curiously as he got to his feet. Sherlock was already busy picking up the rest of them. "That is quite alright," he said giving John a level look. His eyes were really dark, they drew you in John suddenly discovered as he was peering into them just a little longer than was appropriate with strangers. He could feel heat in his cheeks and nodded at Sherlock Holmes before he quickly walked on down between the books. He wanted to turn and look back the Holmes, but decided not to, as that would be stupid. He reached the second to last row, it was thankfully empty and he turned in. Sinking to the floor, leaning on a shelf of books on religion in the 17th century John let the breath he didn´t know he had been holding. Why was this Sherlock so intriguing? What the hell did he need women´s magazines for? And what has he studying?
John sat there awhile thinking about Sherlock, he was lean, not lanky he decided. Definite muscles under that tights purple shirt he wore. John shook his head. When had he started sitting on library floors thinking about other men? Today apparently, but that would also be the end of it.
He got up, brushed some dust of this jeans and walked slowly back into the better lit section of the library. Holmes was already in his seat reading one of the magazines with his usual cup of coffee next to him. John slid back down into his own seat on the opposite side of the room. He looked at Holmes carefully reading what looked at that distance to be one of the science magazines. He had his eyebrows pushed together, stern look on his face, tapping impatiently with fingers on his left hand.
Suddenly their eyes met, Holmes had looked up from his magazine and they were staring at each other. John could not remember to look away, all his brain function was lost in being caught looking so abruptly. Holmes´ gaze lightened slightly to a stern, but curious look. Thankfully at that moment Molly walked up to Sherlock, breaking their lines of sight, escaping from eternal cycle of dark eyes, John packed his bag as quickly as he could manage and headed for the door. His heart was beating had in his chest, stomach doing summersaults.
He felt so stupid, why was he acting to weird all of a sudden? John looked at his watch, it was ten to seven, his mates would be down at the pub having a pint. John felt like the company of someone who were a bit simpler and decided to head over there right away. He was wearing blue jeans with a red sweater, that didn´t exactly go with his complexion or light hair, and it wasn´t completely clean either. But everything would be better the minute he got his hands on a pint or two.