A/N: I know I say this about most of my stories, but I really did want to cap this at 20 chapters. Now it's at 50 and it's still going strong, right? Much more planned, hopefully I can do my ideas justice in writing. Anyway, hope you enjoy. Thanks for getting me to 50 chapters when I didn't think I could.

In other news, this update has taken so long because I'm currently writing another 30-Day OTP Challenge, this one SFW (safe for work), but it's all a solid story so I have to write each chapter, then upload accordingly. So it'll take a while before it's up. So if you could be so patient, wait nicely for this story and that one. Thanks!

The entirety of the next week goes by slowly. Not only is Sherlock highly anticipating leaving to New York on Thursday night, but it hurts him more than he's admitting that Olive hasn't talked to him.

At lunch on Thursday, he tries not to watch Olive and Lane a table over with their own friends.

"So…" Duke says as they're eating. "This has been weird all week. What happened?"

"Olive dumped him," Declan says.

Everyone laughs, but Sherlock glares.

"Lighten up, dude, we're kidding."

Sherlock doesn't say anything.

"She told me you yelled at her," Wyatt says.

"Oh, did she?" Sherlock snaps.

"Guys," John tries, "Can we just drop it? Please?"

They all mutter agreements, then go on to talk about other things.

Sherlock doesn't listen, of course, he just silently plots the best way to stab Lane with a fork from this distance and angle.

Finally, he snaps out of it when John hits his chest.

"What?!" Sherlock cries. He looks up and sees Taylor looking down at him. "Oh, hi Taylor."

"Hey, Sherlock, mind if we step outside to talk?"

"Uh…sure," Sherlock agrees, then gets up and follows her out into the hall. He can practically feel Olive's glare as they pass her table, and Sherlock will never admit how satisfied that makes him.

Once in the hall, Taylor's face transforms to look utterly distressed.

"I can't do it," she tells him, "I can't confront Danny."

Sherlock frowns. "You haven't talked to him about it at all?"

"No, I'm too afraid. I think he knows I suspect something though, because he's been spending more time with me and less time elsewhere."

"He probably thinks you think he's cheating on you."

"Right, that's what I think, but…" Taylor sighs. "I know I need to, but I'm scared."

"You have every right to be, but the sooner you talk to him, the sooner he can get help."

Taylor nods. "You're right. I just…I don't want him to get mad."

"That's why you need to talk to him in a safe environment, somewhere with your or his parents. Heck, if you want to I can get my brother's boyfriend to be there. He's a cop, but he won't bust Danny if I tell him not to."

"I don't know, maybe…I'll let you know. But…" Taylor rubs her forehead in thought. "I'm just scared. What do I say?"

"Sit him down and tell him what you know. Assure him that you're supportive of his recovery. Do some research on rehab and let him know what you find."

Taylor nods. "That's all very helpful."

"Don't come off as angry, but let him know that you're not going to stand by accepting his drug use."

"And if he threatens to dump me?"

"I'm sorry, Taylor, but if he does…you should probably just let him. I know you care and that's going to be hard, but someone this toxic isn't good for you."

"I know…" Taylor wipes her eyes on her sweatshirt sleeve. "I'm just nervous."

"You have every right to be."

Taylor wipes her other eye and nods. "Thanks, Sherlock."

"You're welcome. Call me if you need anything over the weekend, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees, then he opens the cafeteria door for her and they reenter.

Since Sherlock's flight is at ten that night, when they get home from school they busy themselves with packing so Sherlock can sleep on his flight. Sherlock gets his suitcase out of his closet and pretends to help while John does most of the work.

"I don't particularly love folding your underpants, Sherlock."

"Yes you do."

John turns his head to look at Sherlock, who is lying on the bed with his head hanging off the edge next to John's. Sherlock is grinning, so John smiles and kisses his cheek.

"What are you going to do while I'm away?" Sherlock asks.

"Well," John says, "My sister wants to have another party on Friday."

"No kissing girls this time," Sherlock tells him.

John laughs. "Same for you, mister."

Sherlock smiles. "No worries. It was a one time thing and she doesn't want to be my friend anymore, so…"

"Don't say that, Sherlock. I'm sure she still wants to be your friend."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because you're you. Nobody can just walk away from you."

"My mum did," Sherlock mumbles under his breath.

John looks at him. "Olive's not your mum, babe."

Sherlock sighs and looks at him. "Alright," he concedes, then leans over to kiss John on the lips. "What else are you doing this weekend?"

"I'm going to see my grandma on Saturday."

"That's good."

"Yeah. My mum's got to work, but Harry's taking me. However, her friend Ben wants to go, so…I don't know, that's a bit odd."

"Ben?"

"Yeah, remember you met him at the party a few months ago?"

"Ben…" Sherlock tries but can't put a face to any 'Ben'.

John moves on. "Anyway, that's about it. On Sunday, I'll pick you up from the airport and maybe spend the night here if your dad lets me."

Sherlock smiles widely. "That would be brilliant."

The boys go downstairs for dinner once the packing is half done. Sherlock takes his laptop and sets it up at the table while Clement serves him.

Clement asks him to put his laptop away, but Sherlock ignores him. "What are you doing?" Clement asks instead.

"Research."

"On?"

"Cocaine addiction."

Clement grows a concerned face. "Uhm…why?"

"For Taylor."

"Who is Taylor?"

John sighs. "Taylor contacted Sherlock to help her find out if her boyfriend is doing drugs. We found that he is, so Sherlock is looking up the best way for her to confront him, and what to do to get him help. Right, Sherlock?"

"Right."

"Oh, well that's…that's good," Clement says.

Sherlock doesn't say anything, he only continues to do research while picking at his food.

After dinner, they go back upstairs to pack. Clement says he needs to run a few errands, so he leaves the boys alone.

Once they hear Clement leave a while later, John lies on the bed with Sherlock and pulls Sherlock close to him. Sherlock, who moved his research to his iPad, doesn't lower his device when John's arm wraps around his waist.

"You know, you're not going to see me for a few days," John says, nibbling on Sherlock's ear.

"Mmm…"

"Maybe you could put the iPad down?" John pulls Sherlock's shirt up and rubs his hand on the smooth skin underneath.

"Just suck me off if you really want to," Sherlock says, shifting a bit closer to John.

John kisses down his neck and lets his fingers run underneath the band of Sherlock's jeans. "I want you to want to, too."

Sherlock sets his iPad down, but doesn't move any more. John presses tighter against him, pressing his hips into Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock throws his arms over his head and stretches under John's touch.

John pops the button of Sherlock's jeans and slowly pulls the zipper down. He leaves open-mouthed kisses along the side of Sherlock's neck and slides his hand up Sherlock's shirt to toy with one of his nipples.

Sherlock groans, but it sounds pained. "Why do you like this, John?"

John shifts up onto one elbow to get his mouth around to Sherlock's throat. "What do you mean?" he asks between licking at Sherlock's collarbone.

"Why do you like…this?" Sherlock licks his lips and gathers his thoughts. "You know…sex…with me…"

John kisses Sherlock's chin and looks up at his face. He smiles. "What do you mean, why? Because I love you!"

"You show me you love me in many different ways," Sherlock says. "Every day. A million ways."

John pushes up on his knees and climbs between Sherlock's thighs. He sits back on his heels and pushes Sherlock's shirt up, then runs his fingertips down Sherlock's torso.

Sherlock shivers and sucks in a breath, his stomach flexing to reveal the slight muscle he has there. John grins down at him.

"I like it because of this," John says, leaning down to kiss Sherlock's stomach.

"My stomach?"

John places his hands on Sherlock's hips and kisses down. He laughs against Sherlock's skin. "Because you're extremely fucking hot," John says between kisses.

When he gets to Sherlock's pants, he pulls at Sherlock's jeans, but they don't budge.

"Why do you wear such tight jeans?!" John laughs.

"Like it bothers you," Sherlock replies.

John reaches under Sherlock and grabs his bum. "I do love your arse in these jeans," he says.

Sherlock grins.

John tries to pull at his jeans again, but this time Sherlock resists.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says. "I'm afraid I'm just not in the mood, John."

John frowns for only a second, then kisses Sherlock's stomach once and re-buttons and zips his jeans. "Alright," he sighs, disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

John climbs off Sherlock and lies back on the bed again. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Sherlock turns onto his side and watches John. "I'm sorry."

"I know, baby."

Sherlock wants to reach out to touch John, but he doesn't. "Why do you call me 'baby' sometimes?"

John shrugs. "I don't know. It's just…I don't know."

"Did your dad call your mum that?"

John shakes his head. "Your dad used to call your mum that."

"He loves her."

"And I love you."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you love me?"

John takes a deep breath. "Because…you're amazing. Everything about you is fantastic. You're a bloody genius, you're really fucking gorgeous. Of course I love you."

Sherlock doesn't say anything. He just processes John's words.

John opens his eyes and looks over at Sherlock. "Why do you love me?"

Sherlock places a hand on John's jaw and leans in to kiss John slowly.

John smiles into the kiss. When Sherlock pulls away, he says, "That didn't answer my question."

"Do you remember," Sherlock says, "When my dad helped coach your football team?"

"When we were ten?" John asks. "Sure, yeah."

"Well, I'd sit on the end of the bench reading, you know? Because I didn't play."

John chuckles. "You always took the biggest book you could find. Remember, once you took the dictionary?"

Sherlock smiles. "Well, one time, during one of your matches, I heard some of your teammates talking about me."

"You did?"

"Sure, they always talked about me. Calling me names, saying I was a nerd and a loser. Of course, it didn't bother me that much, but one time it bothered you."

John nods. "I remember. They were being really mean and you were just sitting there reading."

"It was halftime. They were saying those things, and you told them to shut up, that I was quadruple as smart as they'd ever be. Then you left them to sit by me."

John laughs. "How is this answering my question?"

"That's why I love you," Sherlock says, "You protect me. You stand up for me. You saw me when others didn't, especially when we were young. My life would be vastly different without you and…and I love you for it."

John smiles widely. He pulls Sherlock down for another kiss.

"And," Sherlock adds between kisses, "Because you're cute."

"Cute?!" John cries. "I give you gorgeous, hot, sexy, and I get cute?!"

"Cute!" Sherlock repeats. He kisses John's nose. "Cute little nose…" he pinches John's belly. "…cute stomach…"

John laughs and pushes Sherlock's hand away. "That's not cute, Sherlock."

"Are you kidding?" Sherlock wonders. "That's the best part." He gets on his knees next to John and tugs his shirt up, revealing his slightly pudgy belly.

John blushes. "Sherlock…" he warns.

Sherlock ignores him. He leans down to kiss John's stomach over and over, then begins to blow into John's skin, making John twist all over the bed and laugh.

"Sherlock, stop!" John cries between laughs.

Sherlock doesn't stop, instead he digs his fingers into John's sides and tickles him until he's really squealing and trying to roll away. Sherlock doesn't let him, not until John shimmies enough to actually fall off the bed with a loud thud.

Mystery scratches on the door a second later, so Sherlock gets up to open the door. The dog runs in to examine the scene, rushing to John and licking him over and over to make sure he's alright.

The boys calm down and check the time, finding they have two hours before they need to be at the airport.

"Alright," John announces, getting off the floor. "We need to finish packing."

Sherlock groans loudly.

John laughs and takes Sherlock's shirts to fold.

Clement returns well on time to take Sherlock to the airport. They arrive around eight, then John and Sherlock take forever saying goodbye to each other.

"Goodness," Clement mutters behind them. "You'll see each other in a few days."

Sherlock presses his forehead against John's and looks into his eyes.

"You'll miss me?" John asks.

"Of course," Sherlock says.

They kiss one more time, then Sherlock leaves to enter the terminal.

Mycroft picks him up at the airport a few hours later, which is really only two hours since Sherlock left England. He curses the time change as he re-sets his watch, staring at a wall clock to make sure the time is right.

"That clock's five minute's fast," he hears behind him.

Sherlock smiles widely and turns around. "Myc."

"Now your watch is off," Mycroft says.

Sherlock shrugs. "It stops all the time anyway."

Mycroft grabs his wrist and examines his watch. "This watch cost me three hundred pounds, Sherlock. What are you doing to it?"

Sherlock shrugs and yanks his hand away. "So it stops, big deal."

Mycroft shakes his head. He wraps his arm around Sherlock's shoulder as he turns towards the exit. "I'll buy you a new one."

Sherlock smiles, happy to hear that again.