/Ok here's my first ((good)) attempt at the 30 day challenge by Ericandy. Since my OTP has been done before. Like, 10000 times. I'm just going to do a Teen AU. So now, without further ado, my 30 Day OTP Teen!lock AU starring: Sherlock and John~/
Day One ~ Holding Hands
John arrived at Baker Street High School wet and pissed off. When he had gotten on his bus he had been tripped by some stupid guy and kicked by some girl. The guy was one of those upper classmen that hated Freshmen apparently. And the girl? Probably one of his exes. He had dated quite a couple girls since he had gotten here, and all of them had left. He thought about it as he made his way across the slippery tile floor and into the gym.
Most girls left him so quickly he forgot that it even happened. It wasn't that he was a man-whore or anything, it's just, girls liked him and he liked them back, but once they found out who his best friend was, well, you can kind of picture how that turned out.
He was knocked out of his thoughts by the feeling of falling and he clutched onto the railing of the stairs. He was almost certain the juniors and seniors on the other side saw him because he heard a small chorus of laughter erupt from several little groups in the bleachers. God, he needed to be more careful. He ascended the stairs, holding onto the railing tightly so he wouldn't slip and fall, and finally made it to the top.
He was met with a loud chorus of the rest of his Freshmen class talking and laughing and texting. He ignored them and instead looked around the bleachers until he saw who he was looking for. Sherlock was sitting up on the highest bleacher alone and more than likely bored. He was wearing the black coat he always wore along with some very expensive looking slacks and a shirt. Oh, and his trademark scarf of course.
He made his way up the bleacher stairs ,skirting past the random outbursts of kids running across, up, down, and just all over the stairs. After he got past the sea of Freshmen he made it to the very top bleacher. No one seemed to be up on this end and John vaguely wondered if it was against the rules to be up here.
"Hey Sherlock!" he said cheerily as he say down beside him.
"You're wet." he scrunched up his nose at John.
"Well yeah. It's raining outside." John replied ignoring Sherlocks lack of greeting him as a normal person would. Sherlock didn't do greetings or "normal" so it didn't really shock him that much anymore.
Sherlock scoffed "I knoooow John. But that doesn't mean you have to go prance around in it. Don't you have an umbrella." he stated more than questioned.
"Yes Sherlock I have an umbrella. It's at my flat though. I'm not allowed to take it on the bus." he replied setting down his backpack. Sherlock took a glance at me and then looked away.
"What?" John asked irritatedly.
"You're shirt is inside out. Oh, and your jacket is ripped in the pocket. The left one." he replied like it was commonplace. John always felt a little twinge of envy that Sherlock could afford such expensive clothing and all he had was a couple shirts and pants and his old, torn bomber jacket.
He must have sensed Johns dismay because he sort of did that little look where he was sorry but didn't know how to say it.
"Don't worry. At least you weren't wearing that hideous jumper." Sherlock tried to assure me? Yeah, Sherlock still needed to work on saying he's sorry. And manners and greetings as well if we're on that subject.
"Yeah. Could always be worse hmm?" John chuckled a little despite his scathing remark about his jumper. He visibly relaxed at Johns body language.
See, that's another thing about Sherlock. He doesn't do well with emotions like these. So you kinda have to help him out, well, as much as you can. Of course, that's only a guide for John. He's the only one around Sherlock long enough for him to have to know all these things.
Sherlock doesn't really have any other friends here. Oh sure, Molly the stalker. Jim, his so called "arch enemy" and Jims "boyfriend" Sebastian; but don't call him that in front of either of them unless you want to end up on the side of a ditch. That was most of everyone John knew Sherlock to communicate with.
He had been to his house a couple times before so he knew Sherlock didn't talk much to his mum and da. Not like they would talk back. They were very uppity to say the least. ((John had only met them once and they disregarded him instead to call out they would be home later and they left for some sort of party or another. Not really the dedicated parent type.)) Oh, and he had a brother. Mycroft. But he didn't really know much about him besides the fact that Sherlock could barely stand to even talk to him much less about him.
"Oh yes! You could've been attacked with acid, or had arsenic injected into your veins Oooooh that's a good experiment idea!" Sherlock started exclaiming happily. John just let him talk, Sherlock was happy and not being a depressed, whiny ingrate or some egotistical dick which didn't happen very often, so John was happy too.
Then the bell rang and they were getting up and getting ready to go to class. Most of the kids filed out fast still chattering to their buddies. Sherlock and John just kind of walked down slowly, John still letting Sherlock get his thoughts out.
Best to do this before class also because sometimes the teachers got mad when Sherlock tried to counter their theories on how the criminal justice system worked, or whatever else he wanted to show off about.
John was half-listening half-ignoring his best friend and just trying to guide himself to the stairs. His shoes squeaked again as he moved down the first couple of steps.
Suddenly, his foot slipped and he felt himself plummeting forward. Sherlock reacted as quickly as if he had known all along what was about to happen. In a flash he grabbed Johns hand and held onto the rail with the other. John stopped falling and pulled Sherlocks hand towards him as he tried to regain his balance. As soon as he could stand he pushed himself up and stared at Sherlock who still hadn't let go and was staring at him with something akin to worry.
The last couple of kids that were pushing themselves by looked at them, some of them even laughing mockingly. Neither of them really noticed, nor did they particularly care.
They stayed like that for a few uncomfortable minutes until John cleared his throat, "*ahem* Sherlock, you can let go now." he said pulling his hand away.
Sherlock let go and backed up as if he had been scalded by hot water. He noticed this, but he didn't particularly want to bring it up, so he just went along as if nothing else had happened,
"Thanks Sherlock." he said genuinely thankful that he had managed to keep him from falling.
That didn't stop him from giving John a scared look however.
It seemed his actions even startled himself. But he instantly recovered becoming depressed whiny ungrateful Sherlock and egotistical dick Sherlock at the same time.
"Well it wasn't that big of a deal John. With your worn out shoes and obvious lack of attention for what's going on around you it was bound to happen." he crossed his arms at John trying to look like he was so smart.
John rolled his eyes. Of course he would do this. He always does this. So he huffed, turned around, and started descending the stairs again.
"Wait John!" he yells but John doesn't hear him. He'a falling for about the one millionth time and thinking that maybe he should file a complaint with the school for their slippery arse floor instalments, or maybe buy new shoes. When, of course, Sherlock reaches out again and grabs ahold of the back of his jacket and pulls him back.
By now the last of the kids are already down the stairs and John turns around and try to thank him again without sounding stupid.
Of course all he replies with is a "Honestly John. Have you ever walked down stairs in your life?" and comes up beside him as they walk down the stairs together. John manages his way down but it's still pretty slippery.
They walk ((well, John sort of slides)) down the hallway towards their class rooms in companionable silence.
John's sure Sherlock doesn't want to talk about the hand thing so he don't bring it up.
Instead it's, "Hey Sherlock I'm-" And he's cut off as he tries to tell Sherlock he's sorry with him just turning to the side and ascending the stairs in a flurry of his coat.
John thinks he might be mad at him, it's quite possible. But this is Sherlock he's talking about. Sherlock doesn't need a reason to be mad at someone. If you're being an idiot he will ignore you, or snap at you, John would prefer the first if any.
So he walks to the other side of the stairs and grasps ahold of the railing internally cursing everything.
John doesn't see Sherlock the rest of the day. He's not sure what's wrong but he's starting to feel kind of bad. He doesn't really want Sherlock to hate him, but the other part of him says he doesn't need that dick today. They need some time apart anyways or he's sure they would go insane. But it still hurts.
It's approaching the end of the day and John checks his phone one more time for any messages.
Unlock - Messages - Sherlock - "NO NEW MESSAGES"
He sighs and tucks his phone back into his pocket as he tries to focus back on his Language class. Only 5 more minutes. He's not sure whether he should be glad schools almost out or mad because Sherlock has avoided him the whole day.
3 minutes and he's ready to almost die of boredom. *ping* he hears a little sound from his pocket and tries to not make a big deal about it while still making a pretty big deal about it.
The teacher looks at him angrily, but he really could care less as he sees the new message is from Sherlock.
Sorry for not talking. Was thinking. Meet me at my house at 4? -SH
John rolled his eyes.
Yeah. Try not to be such an arse? -JW
A little hesitation.
Yeah ok. Sorry. -SH
And that made John smile for probably the first time since he had came to school that morning.
You're forgiven Sherly. -JW
Don't. Start. -SH
Ok ok. See you at 4. -JW
I shall wait for you. -SH
Well I would hope so. -JW
And his phone was plucked from his hands by an angry, frizzy haired teacher who was glaring at him like he had just been found guilty of a murder.
"So. What was so important that you felt you had to share it at this very second, hmm?" she asked scrolling through his texts.
"Hey Mrs.-" he was cut off when he reached for the phone.
"'Meet you at 4.' oh so you talking to you're girlfriend? 'Sherly'?" She smirked like she actually knew what she was talking about.
Johns face got red and he reached for the phone again "No that's not!-" she walked back to her desk and tossed it onto a stack of papers.
"If you want it back you can come with your parents and pick it up from the office. I'll be happy to tell them you won't be getting any special treatment and be allowed to use your phone during class even if you are a football player! And that this 'Sherly' will just have to wait until after school to text you." she replied matter-of-factly as his blush hit his ears and neck and the kids around the room erupted into laughter.
Then, the bell rang and the teacher was screaming not to forget homework as everyone packed up their things.
John slung his bookbag around his shoulder and he stomped out into the hallway and out the door to his bus.
He didn't see Sherlock anywhere so he guessed he was already on a bus. He shivered at the cold wind and tried to walk faster.
He made it on his bus without further accident, well, besides having to run after it and being tripped as soon as he got on.
He was almost literally thrown off his bus and into the freakishly cold wind. He didn't even look back at the animals on his bus and tried to ignore the pain in his stomach.
He had gotten home, told his dad he needed to go pick up his phone with him in a few days and that he was going to Sherlocks, threw his backpack down in his room, grabbed his overnight bag, said goodbye, and left.
His dad wasn't much for conversation. Sometimes he wished his mum was still alive.
He sighed as he got on a more civil city trolley. Sometimes going to Sherlocks made him feel better. At least John had one parent that even semi-cared. Sherlock had him and Mycroft.
Then he got to thinking about Sherlock and the hand holding thing. Sure it was awkward, but Sherlock usually shrugged off awkward as being normal. Why was this any different? Unless...no. Sherlock couldn't have felt anything from that. That was stupid. And John was straight!
By the time he arrived at Sherlocks "house" mansion he had convinced himself Sherlock was just overreacting because John was being an idiot. Which made no sense. But it felt better than thinking his best friend was gay and loved him and holding his hand.
He made it past the security guards and into the mansion where he was greeted with an overtly ecstatic Mummy Holmes.
"Oh John! I've heard so much about you! It's so nice to meet you.." it went on for about a minute before he could answer.
"Um, hello. Not to be rude but I'm sure we met a few months ago...and the following weeks after that." he replied cringing a little at her change in demeanour.
"Oh yes. Perhaps we have." she said dead panned.
John felt so out of place he wished that the beautiful jewelled carpet would just swallow him up where he stood.
Luckily the carpet did not come to life and eat him whole, but the next best thing did come running down the stairs he supposed.
"John glad of you to come again. Mum we'll be upstairs." Sherlock said trying to pull over the nice voice as he grabbed ahold of Johns ((it's always by the hands is it now?)) hand and pulled him behind him in a hasty retreat.
Mummy Holmes just looked after them and called out sweetly "Just don't get up to anything you two!"
John looked back at her horrified as she added on "But don't worry, the bedsheets are washable." and winked.
Then they were in Sherlocks room and the door was shut. Sherlock flopped down on his bed and groaned loudly "Mothers. God."
John chuckled nervously as he nodded along.
Sherlock moved his arm from across his face and looked up at him.
"Make yourself comfortable. I mean, don't just stand there." Sherlock said rolling himself over and sitting up.
John shrugged and jumped onto the bed beside him.
They talked for a while about school and stuff each trying not to bring up the topic they were both thinking of.
Finally Sherlock just blurted out, "I'm sorry!" And when I say blurted out I mean he screamed it to the top of his fucking lungs.
John jumped straight up from the bed in fright.
"I didn't mean to grab your hand John! I know you're straight and I respect that it's just you were falling and you needed help and I just deduced you hated me so I just sort of tried to stop but you fell again!" Sherlock was rambling on fear in his voice.
"Shh shhhh Sherlock. Calm down." John tried to stop his screaming. If someone came up at that moment they might get in trouble.
"No John! I'm sorry! Ok? I don't say that a lot I know. Because people are stupid and don't deserve it. But I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable and hate me." his voice was barely a whisper now.
"Sherlock." I said a bit more harshly than I intended to, "Listen I'm not mad. And I don't hate you. Sometimes instead of deducing me just ask me what's wrong!"
Sherlock looked at me and I actually felt the hurt in his gaze.
"John. What if I really did?" he asked me his whole body shivering.
I felt a pit in my stomach, "Really did what?" I asked.
"Nothing." and with that he was Sherlock again, and leaning on the bed trying to act cool.
John rolled his eyes for the third time that day and with a smirk Sherlock kicked him gently off the bed onto the carpet making his actual first fall of the day.
"Bastard!" John mumbled into the carpet.
"Good Night John." he yawned flicking the light off and leaving John to deal with his bedding arrangements himself.
/Yeah I just made them both 15 year old sophomores in High-school ((referenced by my high school)). Sorry if it was a little long. My others probably won't be like this one. I just felt like detailing what's actually going on. So, I don't know anything about schools in Britain so I'm sorry about that. If there are any tips you readers feel like sharing, any compliments you want to toss my way, anything you aren't really understanding about my fanfic, etc. clicking the little review box would just make my day ;/u/; /