A/N: Hope you're still enjoying this! Not much to say about this chapter other than I hope you all like it. And there's a warning for sex at the end. It's always at the end, has anyone else noticed? Huh. I'm rambling. Thanks for reading!

By the following Wednesday, Sherlock's anatomy extra credit is complete. Since it's two days early, Mrs. Scott tells him right away that he's earned fifty points of extra credit.

"Now," she says, stacking the papers together against her desk. "Pop quiz. What is the humerus?"

"Uhm…upper arm bone?"

"Is that a question?"

"No, it's…it's my answer. Upper arm bone."

"Correct. What is the strongest bone in your body?"

"Femur."

"And where is that?"

"In your thigh."

"Right. What's an aorta?"

"It's…uh…the largest artery in our body…it starts in the heart."

"Very good. Let's see…" Mrs. Scott taps her chin in thought, then asks, "What is hypoxia?"

"It's when your body is deprived of oxygen."

"Good," she says. "And…I guess you're done. I'll have this graded by Monday and your grade will, hopefully, be up by Tuesday."

"Sorry, ma'am," he stops her, "Those questions were very simple in the packet. Did you want to test me on more difficult questions? Not that I'm complaining."

"Hey," Mrs. Scott says, "This is all I need, alright? I'm sure you did well. Did Watson help?"

"And Declan, and Olive, and my brother, actually."

"Perfect. I trust you did well, and that you learned. Did you?"

Sherlock nods, thinking back on the difficult questions John had asked while he administered his own form of torturous quizzing. "I didn't find it that interesting before, but it appears that learning anatomy may prove useful one day."

"Great," Mrs. Scott says. "We'll see how well you do on the next test then, alright?"

Sherlock nods. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome, Mister Holmes."

Sherlock politely smiles, then leaves when other students begin to flood the classroom.

John and Declan are both waiting right outside the room when Sherlock emerges.

"How'd it go, babe?" John asks, following Sherlock down the hall.

"Fine. She quizzed me, and I got them all right, but they were easy questions." Sherlock shrugs. "I shouldn't complain, of course."

"I think you retained it all pretty well," John says, dropping his voice, "But maybe I'll have to give more…tutoring."

Sherlock looks at him through his eyelashes. "Well—"

"Oh my gosh," Declan says, "Stop. Not here. It's bad enough I dealt with interrupting…tutoring…at home. School is sacred."

"Maybe you shouldn't have walked in on us," John says.

"You were in the kitchen! In the sitting room! In the den! At the freakin' piano! And then you'd giggle and rush up to your bedroom. Do you even know…" Declan groans and rubs his face. "It's not what I want to see first thing in the morning."

John and Sherlock laugh.

"At least we get to engage in…tutoring," John taunts.

"You know what? I respect my girlfriend. I don't want to have sex if she doesn't want to have sex. She's not ready, so I'm not ready. She wants to keep to light kisses for now, I want to keep to light kisses for now. I get to hold her hand and that's enough!"

"Is it, though?" John asks.

Declan frowns."No...well, I don't know. But don't tell her I said that. I will wait forever," Declan says. "I love her."

"You love who?" the boys hear behind them.

They spin around quickly to see a very curious Ellery staring at them.

"How long have you been standing there?" Declan asks.

"Long enough to hear your confession of love for…me?"

Declan smiles. "Yes, of course you."

Ellery smiles back.

John and Sherlock grin at each other and slowly slink away.

Friday rolls around and the boys walk home without Declan, for he is taking Ellery to a nice dinner to ask her to prom.

"So," Sherlock says, "My dad is allowing me to start planning my trip to New York now."

"When are you going to go?"

"Well, last week, Mycroft told me three weeks, so…I guess next weekend, or the weekend after."

"Just…not the weekend of the eleventh, please?"

"Why?"

"Because…" John thoughtfully licks his lips. "Because that's the weekend of prom, and I…I'm still hoping you'll change your mind."

Sherlock stops on the street and turns to John. "John, I don't—"

John had paused next to him for a second, but he continues walking quickly. "Don't want to, I know," he says over his shoulder. "I'm going home."

Sherlock just stands on the street, frowning at himself.

When he gets home, Clement asks why he's moping.

"John wants me to go to prom, and I just don't want to."

"Why not?"

Sherlock shrugs. "I just…"

Clement sighs. "Look, son. I know you don't like to do conventional things, I know you enjoy being different and altogether more difficult. But…"

"But?"

"But just this once, for one night, can you please at least see John's side? He wants to go, Sherlock. He wants to go with you."

Sherlock pretends he's not listening while taking out his math book.

"I know you can hear me because I've never once seen you study math. Just think about it, okay? If you love John…you'll at least think about it."

Clement kisses Sherlock's head, then exits the kitchen, leaving Sherlock to think about his dad's words.

Sherlock asks himself why he doesn't want to go to prom.

The dancing?

He loves dancing.

Having to be with their friends?

Laser tag was fun, there's no doubt that prom would be equally as entertaining.

Dressing up?

John loves when he dresses up, and he's gotten more and more used to bowties in the past few years.

Other people?

Yes, definitely that. Other people. Sure, people have seen them hug in the hallways, maybe one or two kisses shared, but this is an entire mass of people they'll be on display for, dancing intimately the entire night.

How is he supposed to not be afraid of what people will do?

There's only one person he can think of who will more than likely be having the same fears he does, so he takes out his phone and quickly dials.

"Hello?"

"Duke, it's me. Want to meet for coffee?"

Sherlock waits for Duke for only five minutes before Duke arrives. He greets Sherlock with a big hug, just like he always does.

"All…alright," Sherlock whispers, patting Duke's back.

"Oh sorry," Duke says, letting Sherlock go.

They take a seat and a waitress comes by to take their orders.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Duke flirts with her as she approaches.

Sherlock eyes him. Once she leaves, Sherlock says, "Gay?"

"Look at how happy she is," Duke says, watching her make their coffees. "Besides, I shouldn't be scolded by the boy who kissed Olive."

Sherlock glares at him. "How do you know that?"

"I was lying in bed with John when you called him."

"You were…lying in bed…with my boyfriend…"

"And you were kissing a girl."

"It was an accident."

"Sure," Duke says, smiling widely as the waitress returns with their coffees.

She nervously sets a plate of cookies between them. "They made too many, I thought you guys would like them."

"Thank you so much," Duke says, smiling even wider as she walks away. He directs his attention back to Sherlock. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Sherlock sets his coffee down. "Well," he says, "Are you planning to go to prom?"

"Why?" Duke asks, "Are you asking me?"

Sherlock chokes on his coffee. "What?!"

"I'm kidding!" Duke says. "I'm just kidding."

"Alright," Sherlock says as he calms.

"So, prom? Yeah, I want to go. If Blake and I get any closer, I might ask him."

"So…Blake?"

"Blake, yeah. He's really sweet and I really like him," Duke shrugs. "Hopefully he likes me, too."

Sherlock nods.

"Why? Do you want to go with Watson?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Yeah, I…I'm thinking I want to."

"That's great, man."

"But…my issue, I've decided, is…"

"Other people?" Duke says.

Sherlock's gaze snaps up to him. "How did you know?"

"It's my issue, too. But, you know, you've got to get over it."

"How?"

Duke shrugs. "Don't care about what they think. Their thoughts can't hurt you."

"What about their words? Their actions?"

"Their words, well, dude, you just have to let it roll off your back. I tell you right now that you're a dick, how do you feel?"

"I know you don't mean it."

Duke frowns. "Do you?"

Sherlock eyes him, unable to read whether or not Duke is lying. "Do I?"

Duke smiles. "Of course I don't mean it. But it doesn't matter because I'm just another person, right?"

"I guess so."

"Someone calls you, what? A queer? Who cares? They're stupid. You're smarter and prettier and better than them, right?"

Sherlock slowly nods, unsure if this pep-talk is working.

"And as for their actions, well, what are they going to do with a bunch of teachers watching? And besides, Vince and his buddies were the only ones you really needed to look out for, right?"

Sherlock thinks about it. "Actually, yeah."

"So there's nothing to worry about."

Sherlock nods.

"Do you feel better?"

"I think so."

"Just remember. You're smart, you're hot, and you're in love. Who cares what other people think?"

Sherlock nods again.

"Watson would love it if you went with him. He'd be thrilled."

"Yes, I know."

Duke smiles. "All of us could get a table together, right? Eight or ten to a table? Me, Blake, you, Watson, Olive, Lane, Brady, Jenna, Harvey, and Lily?"

"What about Dane?"

"Dane is a prick," Duke says. "He can sit with his own damn friends."

Sherlock laughs. "Sorry to hear that."

Duke shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

"Alright," Sherlock says after a minute of silence. He leans forward on his elbows and holds his hands under his nose, against his mouth. "How should I ask him, then?"

"You want to ask him?"

"Yes," Sherlock says. "Before he thinks I really don't want to do. Tonight, I want to do it tonight."

Duke taps his chin in thought. Finally, he snaps his fingers and gasps. "I got it!"

Sherlock looks at him curiously.

"Fire."

"Fire?"

"Fire!"

Sherlock and Duke leave their coffee and go to the grocery store. They buy a can of lighter fluid, rubber gloves, and a box of matches. They stop at Sherlock's house for the fire extinguisher, and since it's already dark outside, they go right over to John's house.

Duke starts to giggle as Sherlock chucks his coat off and rolls his sleeves up.

"Ssshhh!" Sherlock cries. He glances up at John's window, but he can't see John. "He'll hear you."

"Sorry, sorry," Duke says.

Sherlock pulls on some rubber gloves. "Got the fire extinguisher ready?"

Duke holds it up. "Ready."

Sherlock nods. He picks up the can of lighter fluid and gets to work.

His work of art is done in short minutes. He sets the can far away and pulls off the gloves. He takes his phone out and dials John's number.

"Alright, ready?" he asks again.

Duke nods.

John answers. "What do you want, Sherlock?"

"I want to apologize."

"Do you?"

"I'm being selfish. The reason I don't want to go to prom is…it's because I'm scared."

"Of course, Sherlock," John says. "I'm scared too, but it's chance I really, really want to take. I love you and I just want to go to the fucking dance with you."

"Well, then…" Sherlock takes a deep breath. "Come to the window."

"To the…" John arrives in the window a second later. He opens it and hangs up his phone. "What the heck are you doing?"

Sherlock pockets his phone, then lights a match and tosses it to the ground.

"Sherlock!" John yells out the window, but he's quickly shut up when the word, 'Prom?' is on fire in the road.

"Who's asking?" John yells down to the street. "You or Duke?"

"I'm just standing by for safety reasons!" Duke yells back.

John grows a huge smile while taking his phone out to take a picture.

"Come down here!" Sherlock commands, and then John disappears from the window.

Duke puts the fire out and hugs Sherlock. "Good job, dude. Let me know how it goes."

"Ask Blake," Sherlock says. "We're not going alone."

"I will," Duke tells him, then walks away down the street.

John's down in a second. He picks up Sherlock's coat from the ground and angrily wraps it around Sherlock.

"Stop, I'm not cold!"

"I'm not dealing with you being ill."

Sherlock huffs and slips his coat on.

"Now," John says, "Are you only asking because you made me mad?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "No, I thought about it and…and I do want to go with you, John. I was just scared."

"I'm scared too, babe. You have no idea how scary the world is for me ever since my dad attacked you. I can't deal with seeing you hurt ever again, do you understand?"

"He hurt you too, John. He hurt you for a long time and of course I can never let that happen again."

"I know, love."

"But...I thought about it and I really want to go with you."

John smiles. "Well, that's just brilliant."

Sherlock smiles back, then leans down and kisses John deeply.

Sherlock calls Clement to let him know that he's going to spend the night at John's.

"That was bloody romantic," John says, inching Sherlock's t-shirt up his back and kissing his neck.

"Was it?"

"Of course it was."

Sherlock grins.

John smooths his hands up Sherlock's skin, under his shirt. "Take your fucking clothes off now."

"Gladly," Sherlock says, ripping his shirt off.

Sherlock gets John to the bed while pulling his clothes off. Soon, they're both naked and Sherlock is straddling John's hips.

"You…" John pants. "Are…so beautiful…"

Sherlock smiles, then leans down to lick one of John's nipples.

"Pass me the lube," Sherlock says.

John reaches over to the bedside table and gets the little tube out. He shakes it to get the small amount of liquid to the cap. "Almost empty," he says.

"Just enough for what I want," Sherlock tells him, pouring it onto his hand.

"What are you going to—" John moans loudly as Sherlock gathers both of their dicks in his fist. "Ohhh god…"

Sherlock wraps the other hand around them too, tightening the pressure. He slowly begins to thrust against John and John grips Sherlock's hips.

John groans. "Oh, I love this, Sherlock, I—"

Sherlock throws his head back and whines at the ceiling, pumping up the rhythm of his hips.

John begins to rock underneath him, helping his cock slide in and out of Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock leans down and kisses John while still thrusting as well as he can, and John's hands roam over Sherlock's hot skin. He loves the feel of Sherlock on him, he loves the feel of Sherlock against him.

"I love you," John whispers. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Sherlock replies, then thrusts as hard as he can and suddenly comes on his hand and John's cock.

John doesn't come right then, not until Sherlock sits up again and uses his own come to jerk John to completion. It's almost an overload of sexiness to John, who finds every single thing Sherlock does sexy anyway.

Sherlock cleans his hands off with discarded pants, then falls on top of John. He tucks his face into John's neck and John wraps his arms tight around Sherlock.

Sherlock kisses his neck twice, then quickly snaps his head up. "Wait…that was a 'yes', right?"

John pets his curly hair. "Of course it was a yes, you clot."

Sherlock smiles and sighs relief, then rests his head down again.

Long after Sherlock's gone to sleep, he lies awake and uploads the photo of Sherlock's prom proposal to Facebook.

'I've got myself a prom date,' the caption reads.

John looks at the photo for nearly ten straight minutes before he falls asleep.