Johnlock oneshots

Idiots

(as the views climb readily higher so does the pitch of my screams. thank you all so much! i never dreamed id get this far, this was originally for 3.5k but boom 3.8k and then bam 3.95k and I'm squealing so. anyway i hope you enjoy reading about these two idiots as much as i enjoy writing about them and without further ado, here is my take on the 'we've never talked but we make eye contact whenever anyone says something incredibly stupid during class' au)

i seriously cant be the only one in here with even a shred of intelligence, right? john thought exasperatedly as the idiot in the first row yet again raised his hand to ask a no doubt ridiculous question come on mate, surprise us all. please?

'sir, so why is 1/7 bigger than 1/3? seven is bigger than three isn't it?' point proven. HOW DID YOU REACH 6TH FORMYOU USELESS SONOFA-

john looked around the room in desperation, hoping at least one person in the room was feeling the same as he was, ready to shoot the wall, but everyone's faces were placid, some even questioning. just as he was about to give up and go back to tracing shapes into his book, john locked eyes with a dark haired boy at the back of the room. the boys mouth quirked up at one side and his green/grey eyes flitted briefly to the boy in the first row (looking on wards while the professor mournfully tried to explain, in vain, basic math principles and that in fact his whole question was wrong) and back to john. john shook his head slightly, knowing his face was a mask of pure irritation and disbelief. the boy gave a slight laugh and looked back down at his book, tapping his pencil against the paper. pulling himself back round in his seat, john made a mental note to check the seating plan as soon as possible, first to check the name of the dark haired boy, then to check the name of the useless idiot in front row. john was going to sign him up for tutoring

..............................................

math. joy.

john flung himself down in his seat and pulled his book out of his bag with a sigh. this lesson used to be his favourite, emphasis on used. top maths was taught by a fairly nice teacher (Mr. Smith, he'd been there for 'round about 5 years and was getting on a bit) and the subject itself was decent, it was just the idiots inside the class that irritated him. right now they were doing alegbra (although he'd never admit it, alegbra had been john's favourite ever since it finally clicked with him at the end of year 9, now he could work through a page of expressions in under 5 minutes. much to the annoyance of the girl who sat next to him) which of course warrented a fuckload of idiotic questions from a fuckload of idiotic people. it was hard not to feel bitter. john was halfway through trying to bore a hole into james anderson's head with his eyes when he heard a snigger coming from the back right side of the room. He turned around (along with a few others who were actually paying attention instead of the alternative, daydreaming) to be met with the sight of the boy from earlier, grinning wildly at john.

he mouthed, and raised his hands to mime, 'throw the pen at him'

john laughed softly and in return mouthed 'im thinking about it' miming anderson's head exploding, gaining another snigger from the boy.

'john' mr smith smiled 'care to share with the class?'

he spun to the front 'no sir, i was simply asking greg to borrow his eraser, wasnt i greg?' john turned to him with desperation in his eyes. mr smith had this rule that if one person spoke unwarrented, the whole class was kept back and john did not want to be the one responsible for keeping the entire rugby soicity from practise. he didnt have a death wish. thankfully, greg was a kind soul and replied-

'yes sir, here john' he turned leant over the gap in the rows,  handing the red eraser to john with a smirk playing around his lips.

as soon as mr smith had turned back to his board (after a few minutes of contemplative staring between the two boys) john spun back round to greg and whispered