128 root e980 = I love you
School work was no match for Sherlock's great intellect. Neither were the teachers when it came down to it. Still school was school and he had to attend or face upsetting mummy. From nine until half three Monday to Friday Sherlock was forced to attend tedious lessons on subjects he was more knowledgeable about then the allegedly qualified professors. No wonder Sherlock found himself doing projects of his own devising (teachers tended to only be willing to give him so much extra work before tiring of all the extra marking, which was irritating to say the least).
At least his experiments were interesting, so interesting in fact that Sherlock had little time to spare conversing with the other kids during break or lunch. Not that it was a particular loss on his part for the other children were dismally dull. It had nothing to do with the fact that everyone hated him. It wasn't a secret he knew what the likes of sally and the others said when grown-ups were absent. But if they went out with horrid guys like Anderson then he didn't particularly care what Sally and her group thought of him.
The teachers were another matter though. He had thought they liked it when he asked questions and corrected them but apparently not, judging from what he had overheard Mr Moriarty say about him in the staff room last week (Sherlock had been going to show him his language homework, a 20 page report analysing the number of poisons that could be distilled from the ingredients in household cleaner but had binned the report in anger and refused to speak in French class since).
If they thought he was showing off his genius then so be it. After all he was sent to school to learn and wasn't that what he was doing? So why it upset people he never knew. It certainly wasn't his fault other children felt stupid. They were stupid, filling their brains with useless information about pop stars and the like. Sherlock knew what he was and it didn't bother him. He was a nerd and that was fine, he knew it was fine because his parents said so and they never lied to him. So what if no one understood, it was perfectly fine to be alone. (Not that he was alone for Sherlock had stolen the skull from the biology lab to talk to).
So when John, a jumper clad army brat and late in the year transfer appeared in Chemistry Sherlock hadn't thought much of it. At least he hadn't until John became his new chemistry partner. At first Sherlock had assumed he would be perfectly happy to continue the simple arrangement that Sherlock had developed with his other partners. They would ignore him and Sherlock would be free to get whatever task they had been assigned that week done properly.
John however turns out to be having none of it. Strangely enough the boy seems to feel obliged to help. No-not obliged John really wanted to help, wanted to get to know the eccentric junior scientist. It wasn't simply Chemistry John took an interest in, he genuinely wanted to know about all of Sherlock's experiments and even participate in a few less dangerous ones (well non-lethal anyway). Even more amazingly Sherlock doesn't seem to mind letting John help. Even after John mixes up the wrong chemicals, and ruins the experiment Sherlock had spent days working on. (Admittedly Sebastian had meddled with the bottles so John wasn't entirely to blame).
John quickly becomes something more than a mere lab partner, something dear to Sherlock, someone special. At first Sherlock assumes it is because John is kind, quick with a joke and smart (well smarter than the rest of them which makes him interesting and bearable yet still stupid enough to feed Sherlock's ego).
However when he wakes from yet another John filled dream with moist underwear it becomes apparent to Sherlock that what he is feeling is not purely friendship. Why else would he find himself fantasizing about stripping a colourful knitted monstrosity from John's small yet buff torso and running his hands through his short tug-able sandy blond hair? Smothering John's neck in kisses hard enough to leave a bruise as he explores that handsome sun-kissed body...
These fantasies shut Sherlock's brain down temporarily as he strives to discover the reason for them. The logical answer is surprising yet obvious. He is in love with John. He probably has been since they first met.
Dealing with the sudden revelation that he has somehow managed to fall in love with his best friend, with John is not easy. The mere thought of John laughing at him or worse calling him a freak was unbearable. John was his everything that much was apparent to even Sherlock, a boy who until very recently wasn't even aware he was capable of arousal. The logical solution is to lock these feelings away deep inside himself, where no one can see them. If he pretends to be normal John would remain his best friend and everything would be fine. John would help him with his experiments, John would call him brilliant and pull him close and comfort him when they were watching scary films alone together late at night and the horror and blood got too much for Sherlock to bare.
The plan while simple in theory is excruciating to carry out for self-restraint is difficult to maintain when you're seventeen and the boy you are deeply crushing on is almost permanently within kissing distance. So Sherlock takes things a step further and does what he does best. He absorbs himself into his work to the point where he nearly cuts himself off from John completely.
John strangely doesn't seem to be put off by Sherlock's sudden silence in class and avoidance out of it nor does he seem worried by it, telling Sherlock to talk to him about it when he's ready. His words only make Sherlock's heart hurt further for Sherlock is being as horrible as he can bear to be to John and he just takes it with his usual good grace and its irritating as hell. When John doesn't even try to force Sherlock to eat lunch Sherlock knows he's gone too far...
By the time Friday rolls around Sherlock can't take it any more, "Screw this" he thinks abandoning his project for some national science competition in favour of searching the playground for John. However John being his normal self manages to finds him first. Grabbing hold of Sherlock coat he drags Sherlock into a deep kiss. "Sherlock you're a right idiot sometimes"