Secretly I Think You Knew

Friends or Freaks?

                  

When they got to the door it was miraculously unlocked, with the teacher sitting in her desk and finally grading some long overdue papers. The movie was already pulled up ready to play, but considering John and Sherlock were the first people to arrive, Sherlock was sure they'd have to wait a good ten minutes until she'd actually press play. John went over and dropped his stuff back at his seat but came right back over to sit by Sherlock. Sherlock pretended to be annoyed, but something after yesterday had changed his entire perspective of John Watson. Before he had thought he was only being annoying, today Sherlock discovered that John actually cared, he was out to help Sherlock and maybe, maybe he might be the person that could free him.
"So, how's our paper going?" John asked.
"Finished, turned in yesterday." Sherlock muttered, pulling out his laptop and browsing through the document.
"I didn't read it over." John pointed out.
"No matter, I'm sure it's satisfactory." Sherlock assured. John just laughed, shaking his head slightly and turning the laptop screen so that he could read it. Sherlock watched him as he read, watching his brown eyes scan over the words, a small smile appearing on his lips for a brief moment and then disappearing.
"This is really good." He decided, sliding it back over to Sherlock.
"It's nothing really, kind of a last minute job." Sherlock murmured, blushing slightly with the praise.
"No, honestly, you'd put some scholars out of business with a paper like this, we'll definitely get an A." John decided.
"Well, once all of your rubbish sentences were cleared out..." Sherlock muttered, and John just laughed again.
"You can be a real jerk you know?" John asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile, his lips turning up ever so slightly as he looked down in embarrassment. John's jaw dropped, looking around the room as if pretending something was a very big deal.
"Was that...did I just see a smile?" he asked. "In my presence, on the face of Sherlock Holmes?"
"Shut up John." Sherlock snapped, but nevertheless his smile only widened.
"I was right, you're smiling you're actually happy! This is amazing, wow; I thought happiness was extinct these days." John exclaimed. 
"Honestly I hate you so much, go back over to your seat." Sherlock insisted, slapping John lightly with his book, but John didn't move. Of course he didn't, and Sherlock didn't want him to either.
"You have a beautiful smile Sherlock." John assured, dropping his voice so that the teacher couldn't hear. Sherlock doubted she would've listened even if John had screamed; she looked as if she hated her life as she circled grammatical mistakes on her freshman's research papers.
"Thank you John." Sherlock muttered, blushing once more and turning back to his laptop. He didn't want John to see him like this, happy, feeling, it was an outrage! One of the first things he had told John was that he was a psychopath and here he was, blushing, stuttering, and probably in love. Mycroft was right, but then again, Mycroft always seemed to be right. Even if he was wrong. John just watched as Sherlock scanned the latest news, propping his head up on his arms and observing quietly. Sherlock couldn't deny it, he loved the company, even if he wasn't doing anything, talking, or even moving, the very presence of John made the day a little bit better.
"Do you have my phone number?" John asked.
"I um...I don't have a phone." Sherlock admitted. John blinked for a moment, as if thinking he must've heard him wrong.
"You don't have a phone? How on earth do you communicate, how do you survive?" john asked in amazement.
"Who do I have to talk to?" Sherlock asked with a sort of sad laugh.
"Well, you have a laptop." John pointed out.
"School issued, remember? Everyone gets one, somehow we can afford six hundred laptops but we can't even get real cafeteria food. But at least I can gnaw on cardboard above my MacBook." Sherlock sighed.
"Well, do you have an email account?" John asked.
"No, Mycroft doesn't let me take this home. Actually I'm not sure he knows I have it." Sherlock admitted.
"Do you expect me to write you letters then?" John asked. Sherlock stopped reading for a moment, looking up at John with mild surprise.
"Why would you want to communicate with me?" he wondered. John just laughed for a moment, looking at Sherlock as if trying to comprehend he wasn't kidding.
"Sherlock you're joking right?" he asked. Sherlock blinked, but shook his head. "I want to talk to you because I like you, you know, we're friends. That's what friends do."
"What could I possibly say to you that would be worth your time?" Sherlock asked.
"I guess we can find that out eventually, I guess I'll give you my address." John laughed.
"You shouldn't send anything to my house, if my brother gets it before I do..." Sherlock muttered.
"Ah yes, I forgot, I have the leading top assassin on my butt." John sighed.
"I'm not kidding John, he's..." Sherlock looked around the room at the kids mingling around, "He's dangerous."
"You expect me to think your brother is going to murder me for sending a letter?" John sighed.
"I don't know what he'll do. If he doesn't hurt you...he'll hurt me." Sherlock muttered, looking down at the floor in shame. John sighed, his smile fading.
"You can't let this go on Sherlock; if you're not safe at home then I don't know how I can sleep at night." John admitted.
"Don't worry about me, I'll handle myself. I'm not exactly a child either." Sherlock insisted.
"What do you mean?" John asked.
"I've done things John, things that you don't know, things that you wouldn't like." Sherlock muttered.
"Illegal things?" John muttered. Sherlock looked away, scrolling through his laptop again as if trying to tell John their conversation was over.  John sighed deeply, but got up from his chair.
"I guess I should get back to my seat." He decided. Sherlock nodded silently, watching out of the corner of his eye as John walked off, hoping that he hadn't just walked out of his life forever. Why would Sherlock confess something like that? Why would he tell John that he had done illegal things? Now John would want to know more, he'd demand answers, oh this was a bad idea, would John hate him? Would he call the police? Would they come and search the house and go downstairs...
"Alright class, settle down, settle down." the teacher muttered. The classes' discussions slowly subsided, people taking their seats and focusing on the teacher. Sherlock shut his laptop lid silently, taking a quick glance at John to see that he was looking right back. They both quickly averted their eyes, staring determinedly at the teacher as if making sure the other didn't get any ideas. John couldn't actually like him, right? Sherlock didn't know the signs, but if John was starting at him, calling his smile beautiful, would that count? And if Sherlock could suspect John, then did John suspect Sherlock? He hadn't been overly obvious, I mean, Sherlock spent his life hiding his crushes from his brother, why might the prime suspect be suspicious? Whatever feelings Sherlock might possibly have, he was keeping them buried, deep, deep down, he couldn't suspect Sherlock had feelings if Sherlock couldn't even find them himself. The teacher turned on the movie and immediately everyone started moving, the popular kids gravitating over to Sherlock's seat and in turn he escaped over to John's, sitting on the desk next to him all while trying to keep enough personal space. Of course Sherlock was appreciating the media's masterpiece of such a classic, but he was also discreetly appreciating the masterpiece sitting next to him, with small, quick glances and small comments about the movie. Just to make John smile, just to see John smile. Not that it mattered.