A/N: Hey readers, if you like this I'd certainly appreciate reviews! Thanks for reading!
John walks the hall behind Sherlock, just a step but still behind. He nervously twiddles his fingers and adjusts the bag on his back about fifteen times before they even see anyone.
"Be cool," Sherlock mutters before they stop in front of Sally and Irene.
The girls both stare at John as if he's a martian.
"You both know John," Sherlock says, his voice deep and John can tell it's a tone that says, 'Please, please don't ask.'
Irene looks him up and down three times. "Uh…hey."
Sally crosses her arms. "Don't you mow my lawn?"
John leans on the wall next to them. "Yeah, and you've got the nicest set of rhododendrons on the block."
"Rhodo-what?!"
Sherlock rolls his eyes, and it bothers John that he doesn't know if Sherlock is rolling his eyes at the girls or at him.
"Come on, John," he says, stepping away from the girls. "Walk me to class."
John eagerly follows.
As they're stepping away, he hears Sally ask Irene what John said to her, and after saying she doesn't care, Irene says she likes his shirt. It makes John smile.
John's first period class is anatomy on the first floor and he's almost late because he walked Sherlock all the way to the third floor for his first period music lesson.
"I didn't know you play the violin," John said as he left Sherlock off outside of the classroom.
"You probably don't know a lot about me," Sherlock said before he disappeared into the room.
Mike is in John's first class, and John sits behind him.
"Aye, John," Mike whispers into class. "Missed you this morning, where'd you disappear to?"
"Oh, I, uh…" John licks his lips. "I walked, uh…Sherlock…to class."
Mike turns around fully to stare at John. "You, what?!"
John can't help but grin. "Yeah, I…Sherlock wanted me to walk him to class, so I did."
"Sherlock knew you were following him?"
"I wasn't following him," John argues. "I walked him there. Right next to him. We talked. He knew I was there."
"Uh huh," Mike mutters.
"Yeah, I'm…I'm going to be hanging around with him more now. Since we're…we're…"
"You're what?"
"We're going out."
Mike doesn't say anything, and John opens his mouth to add (the lie) that Sherlock likes him quite a bit, but their teacher stops him.
"Mr. Watson! If you're feeling particularly chatty today, why don't you tell me what all the bones in the upper half of the body are?"
John sighs and stands up. "Radius, meta—"
"Alphabetical, please."
All the student laugh and John blushes harshly. He can do that, easily, but being on the spot makes him nervous.
He clears his throat and begins.
Sherlock's second period class is home ec., which is awful. The only thing that will be good about the class is that all of his friends are in it, too. When he walks in, Sally and Anderson are fighting in the back of the room, Irene is rolling her eyes at everything Sebastian is saying, and Greg is grinning and patting the seat next to him.
Sherlock goes to Greg, simply because he doesn't care for Sally and Anderson's fighting, and he really doesn't care for Sebastian.
Greg hands Sherlock an apron. "Wouldn't want you to ruin your pretty outfit."
Sherlock takes it. "Thanks," he mutters, slipping it on over his simple gray t-shirt that cost about as much as his shoes.
The teacher announces that today they'll be working on egg cracking techniques, which sounds simple enough, but most kids in the class can't do it to save their life.
Halfway through the class, once everyone's mastered the task, he instructs the class to try separating the egg whites from the yolks. Sherlock does it without a problem, and he notices Greg next to him completing the task with surprising ease. He cracks the egg in his hand, lets the whites slip through the slits in his fingers, and the yolk stays there in his hand.
Greg nudges Sherlock and Sherlock looks at him. He leans over, his hand on the back of Sherlock's chair and he's so close that Sherlock could probably count his eyelashes.
"What?" Sherlock asks, thinking Greg is about to kiss him by the look on the boy's face.
Then Greg grins, and in one motion he tosses the yolk in his mouth and swallows it with ease.
Sherlock makes a gagging noise. "Disgusting!"
Greg laughs loudly and everyone who saw it laughs, too.
"You are utterly disgusting, Gregory."
Greg smiles widely and kisses Sherlock's nose.
Sherlock meets John inside the cafeteria during lunch. John's holding a sack, his lunch, and Sherlock immediately tears it out of his hands and tosses it in the nearest trash bin.
"Hey, that was my—"
Sherlock takes a few bills out of his pocket and hands them to John. "You're not eating that if you're sitting with us."
"Uh…okay…" John takes the money and gets in line for a lunch.
He notices Sherlock isn't in line behind him. "You're not getting anything?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"It's transport. Slows me down."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"Hmm…it's Monday? So…Saturday."
"Satruday?! Sherlock!"
Sherlock rolls his eyes.
John finally gets his lunch and they go outside to eat, where all of the 'cool' kids sit. Sherlock nods the direction he wants John to go, and John leads him through the people to an empty table. John notices that Sherlock is hanging onto his shirt, as if not wanting to separate. It makes John smile.
They sit down and John starts to eat his food, but in seconds there's someone looming over them. John slowly looks up to see Sherlock's friend, Sebastian Wilkes.
"What are you doing over here?" Sebastian demands. "Don't you know losers are to the left?"
John glances to their left, where the more nerdy or geeky kids are sitting.
"Then I guess you'll be going right," Sherlock says. "That's where the arseholes sit."
Sebastian's face goes straight and he huffs out a breath through his nose. He violently steps back, on time for everyone else to join them. With everyone there, John is too nervous to eat.
"You all know John?" Sherlock asks as they sit.
"Yeah," Greg says. "Don't you mow my lawn?"
John blushes. "Uh…"
Sherlock interrupts before John can answer. "John's just learning the importance of business early on, right John?"
"R-right."
"Didn't we go to primary school together?" Anderson asks next.
"Yeah."
"Huh, hadn't seen you since. I thought you moved."
John looks down at his lap.
"You don't play sports, do you John?" Greg asks.
John slowly looks up and shakes his head.
"Hmm…" all the boys sigh.
Sally and Anderson, who are sitting at the other side of Sherlock, start to argue quietly between each other. Irene and Sherlock exchange a look of annoyance.
"They fight a lot?" John asks.
"Yes," all the others answer.
The bell rings without John eating his lunch, leaving him starving through the entire afternoon. Luckily, Sherlock takes him to eat after school. The restaurant is a usual hangout for students and young kids, and they sell food like pizza and milkshakes. John orders a personal pizza that'd be large enough for him and Sherlock, and he plans to make Sherlock eat.
John anxiously awaits their pizza, fidgeting in his seat.
"You wouldn't be so hungry had you just eaten lunch."
"I just get nervous around those guys."
"But not around me? Interesting."
"Well, you, you're—"
The waiter delivers their pizza and John excitedly digs in. It's too hot still for him to grab a slice, but right as he's about to sacrifice his mouth to be burned anyway, Greg, Sebastian, and Anderson walk in.
"Hey guys!" the boys all say, patting John's back as they pass to their own table.
John drops the pizza.
Sherlock laughs. "John, don't be absurd. Eat."
John shakes his head.
"You know what? Go invite them over. You'll see that they're regular guys."
John nods and takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'll be right back."
John wanders over to the boys and pats Greg's shoulder. "Hey guys, pizza's on me."
"Hey, alright!" Anderson cries, then the boys go over to John and Sherlock's table.
They take every slice. John watches as the boys absolutely devour his pizza, leaving a measly pepperoni behind.
He frowns deeply as the boys leave again, and Sherlock pats his shoulder.
"I apologize. I suppose I should have foreseen that result."
"You owe me," John says.
Sherlock laughs. "Of course. Another time. I've got to get you home before my dance practice."