Johnlock One Shots (BoyxBoy)

Finally he texted

John was sitting in the school library to do some research for a important project. It was a project about Greek Gods, for his history class. He got the God Aphrodite, the God of beauty. Beside him there laid about five books, which he had to read. Yawing he grabbed one and began to read. His blue eyes scanned over the page and he looked up after a moment. It was so boring for him. John rubbed over his eyes, to get alert. It didn't work so he tried to continue with reading the text. After some time he fell asleep, behind his book and only awoke, because somebody poked him on the shoulder.
"Need that?" A boy with raven black hair and ice blue eyes asked. John stared at him for at least ten seconds, before he could speak again. That was beauty, he thought. The boy rolled with his eyes and snapped in front of his face. "I asked you a question!" He grumbled and John nodded. "Yes... er... sorry. You can have it, I'm struggling with this one." He showed him the book of Greek Mythology, smiled a little and scratched his neck. "You're late for the project." The boy said and grabbed the book. "How...?" John asked staggered, looking up to the boy. "Obviously." He said and sat down beside him. "I saw you running around, searching for books and stealing it from another pupil." "Borrowing!" John shouted and got a glare from the library secretary. "Borrowing." The boy rolled with the eyes and continued:"You sat yourself here, so that you can look out of the window while you're writing. You wrote the headline messy and in a hurry." He shut his mouth for a moment and leaned back. "I don't want to distract you any longer, from your work. I'll bring it back to you. See ya, John." He frowned, looked after him and blinked confused. How did he know his name?
John struggled the whole time with his books and the little speech he had to make about Aphrodite, but all he could think about were those eyes and hair. Something fell beside him and he looked up from his notes. The book he borrowed the boy now laid there. "Thanks." He said with his deep voice and John wondered how old he might be. "How did you know my name? And what's your name?" He asked and rose an eyebrow. "Really simple." A light smile appeared on his face and he continued:"Your initials are written on your jersey. And it's a rugby one, so you play rugby and your initials are J. W. There is only one player with them. John Watson. The leader and best player. Everybody talks about you. Guys because you're so good at this sport and girls because you're a brilliant kisser." His cheeks got red and John chuckled. "And your name?" He asked again and searched in his mind. Than he got it. That has to be Sherlock Holmes. The boy who could deduce everything from the clothes you're wearing or from the dirt under your shoes. "Sherlock, right?" The blond said with a smile, which the boy surprised returned. "Yes... May I help you with your project?" He asked and looked over his notes. John nodded happily and made space for him, on a chair. Together they tried to get the work done.
"I think that should be it." Sherlock said and scratched his upper arm. "No... I have to tell them what I think beauty is." John laughed and blushed. He wouldn't tell Sherlock what beauty was for him. Because, that would be embarrassing. "Than write it down and go to sleep. You look horrible. You should get an other room mate, then he makes to much noise." He suggests and shrugs. Sherlock turned around to leave the library, while John is thinking what to do next. He wants to give him his number and now his heart and brain are fighting, whether he should do it or not. His heart wins, so he stood up and ran towards him. "Sherlock!" He said and grabbed his hand. Bewildered he looked at him and rose an eyebrow. "I wanted to..." John swallowed and bit his lip. "I wanted to give you my number." The blue eyes widened in surprise and he scrabbles his number down on the back of his hand. "Call me." John said, turning around to get on with his project.
He was in his room, as he got a message.

Why did you give me your number? -SH

John smiled and typed:

Because, you helped me and if you ever need anything I'll help you. JW

Nothing came back, so he turned back to his homework and did it. Sleepy he closed the book, got undressed and laid down in his bed only with his boxers on. His room mate, wasn't here, because his girlfriend got very ill, so he had to help her. After ten minutes of staring at the ceiling he drifted away. His dreams were full of black curls, pale blue eyes and pink lips.
The next day he presented his work, to his teacher and class. The teacher was so excited of it, that he gave him an A. But unfortunately, Sherlock didn't text him again for two whole months. Day for day John waited. He wanted to hear from him, see him again. Sometimes he caught sight of a tall, slender figure in the halls and as he tried to reach him, he was gone. John knew it was stupid of him, to give a boy his number, he barely knew. And he struggled to text him, because he didn't want to annoy him or something like that.
As he woke up one night, because he got a message, he was astonished, because it was from Sherlock. His eyes had to get used to the light of the screen, before he could read it.

Got into trouble. Classroom 221. -SH

Suddenly John was awake and grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts. He knew the classroom so he went straight and quiet to it. Inside he heard voices. Two, male, had to be in his age. But how the hell did they got in there? His body was full with adrenaline. None of the voices were Sherlock's. His thoughts were running fast and he did the only thing he thought would be good at the moment. He pounded on the door and asked:"Is there anyone in there?" The voices went silent and he opened the door. Two boys were standing there and looking at him with wide eyes. Perhaps they thought he was a teacher, but John wasn't sure, so he crossed his arms on his chest and asked:"What are you doing here?" One of the boys, tall with blond or brown hair says:"I could ask you the same." Under one desk he saw a hunched person and his eyes widened. When Sherlock wasn't one of them he had to be the one under the desk. "Get out!" John barked and scared them off, with a crack of his knuckles. Their eyes widened and they ran out of the room. So fast as he could, he got to Sherlock and knelt down beside him. "What did they do?" The blond asked and offered him his hand. The boy took it and they stood up together. "They..." He shut up, one of his cheekbones was red and a little bit swollen. "Did they punch you?!" John asked angry and stroke gently with a thumb over it. Sherlock nodded and bit his lip. "It isn't bad." He murmured, trying to turn his face away. "No it isn't. It's worse! Are you bleeding?" Without an answer he left the place with Sherlock and got with him to his room. "You'll sleep here tonight." John turned on the light and inspected his face. Bruises and a bleeding lip, was all Sherlock had to deal with. He took care of his lip and looked him deep in the eyes. "Why did they punch you?" He asked. The younger boy looked to the ground and mumbled something, that John couldn't understand. "What?" He asked and held his chin up, so he didn't speak to the ground. "Because I'm gay." Sherlock had tears in his eyes and John shook his head. "I can understand if you don't want me here any longer. I would totally understand." John's eyes widened and he caught Sherlock's sleeve before he could leave. "Stay. You're very welcome here." They looked at each other with big eyes and John was the first who looked away. He should ask him now. "I wanted to ask you several times if you wanted to go out with me." Sherlock's mouth stood open and after a moment of staring at John Sherlock nodded and tried to hide his excitement. "Now go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow about it." John smiled and gave him a little kiss to his good cheek.