A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So a lot of you requested a part 2 to I Need A Favor so here it is!!! I had planned it to be short and sweet...but I got carried away.....Hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3
Sherlock's entire being was on fire from John's kiss, even though their snogging session had ended nearly twenty minutes ago. John had backed Sherlock against the bed, sending both of them tumbling to the sheets. The fall had hurt John's broken wrist, reminding Sherlock that he had to get a proper cast for the injured limb.
They were walking down the street, John clinging to Sherlock's arm. The older boy kept glancing around, wincing whenever a car sped by. Sherlock could tell the boy was scared of his father finding them, so he made sure to walk through the back alleys he often took to avoid the bullies from his school.
They finally reached the massive private school, Sherlock swiping his student ID and leading John into the empty halls.
"Holy Shit man, you go to school here?"
"Yeah, it's not the best, but they have the greatest Advanced Chemistry class outside of Saint Bart's College." Sherlock shrugged, swiping his ID once more to gain access to the art wing.
"Jesus mate, you're a fucking geek, aren't you?" Sherlock hesitated, concerned where John's thoughts were headed. Sherlock gasped as he felt John grip his elbow and spin him around, pulling him close and smirking up at him. "You never told me there was a brain hidden under all those curls."
"I don't exactly hide it John. My room is full of text books and medical journals, and less than an hour ago I reset your broken wrist and stitched your side together." John smiled reaching up and tousling Sherlock's hair.
"You're cute." Sherlock blushed, stuttering uncertainly. "Come on Genius, let's do some craft-type-stuff."
"We are building you a cast John, not making Christmas cards." John laughed and pressed onto his toes, kissing Sherlock lightly. "And you're distracting me." John giggled and stepped back, letting Sherlock lead him over to one of the tables.
It took almost three hours for Sherlock to finish the cast. The whole time, John talked about his school, his family, and some of his friends. It turned out that both John and Sherlock knew Mike Stamford. Mike was taking the Advanced Chemistry class at Sherlock's school, and was on the same rugby team as John.
"So, tell me your story. So far, all I know about you is that you're a posh genius with an older brother and a family that forgets you." John was sitting on one of the desks, playing with the cast that now adorned his broken wrist. It was almost fully dried, and Sherlock was just cleaning up his station. The younger boy hesitated, unsure what to say.
"I'm not really that interesting John."
"I beg to differ."
"Fine. I'm fifteen-"
"Wait, what?"
"Yes John, I'm almost three years younger than you. I am three years ahead of most students my age. No one likes me, not that I blame them for that-"
"Stop that." John growled, grabbing Sherlock's elbow and dragging him to stand between his knees. "Why would you say that?"
"Because John, I'm a fifteen year old with an IQ that is higher than most teachers here, I have a drug problem, I'm abrasive, I can tell every dirty little secret about someone within three minutes of meeting them-" Sherlock's words faded to a surprised sound as John's lips crashed inelegantly against his, one of the shorter boy's hands was around the back of his neck, while the other gripped his hip tightly. Sherlock's hands however, scrabbled wildly against John's sides. He had no clue how to handle this much physical contact.
