The Freaks and The Felonious- Teenlock/Johnlock (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Eight- Stayin' Awake

JOHN

When I woke up the next morning, I blinked the dust out of my eyes, only to discover that the lack of ocular crust did not make me feel any more awake. Groaning, I rolled onto my side.

“GOOD MORNING JOHN,” Sherlock drawled loudly, kneeling down next to my bed and staring me right in the eyes.

“What the hell are you doing, Sherlock?” I muttered, burying my head further under the duvet to muffle the ringing he'd created in my ears.

“Waking you up. Obviously.”

“That wasn’t waking me up. That was attempted murder,” I groaned. “What do I need to do to make sure you never do that to me again?”

“Well,” he smirked mock-seductively. “You could-”

“Actually, maybe don’t answer that,” I cut him off. And regretted it. I blamed it on the tiredness.

 “I apologize. But we don’t want to be late for classes, do we?”

“We?” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t care about all that?”

“You do,” he exhaled loudly. “So I suppose I’ll have to try it out.”

“Just because I- hang on,” I felt the blush and all other colour drain out of my cheeks. “Oh God. What time is it?”

“Eight fifty-five. Why?”

“And classes start at nine?”

“Yes, but-”

“SHERLOCK!”

“What?”

“THAT’S IN FIVE BLOODY MINUTES!”

He looked at me like it was entirely unreasonable to have a mini-heart-attack in such a situation. I glared at him, and then realized I didn’t have the time, sprinting to the bathroom.

“John!” Sherlock called. I ignored him.

Okay, okay, no time to shower. Just- oh God. I saw my bedhead in the mirror- no time to sort that out. I took half a minute to brush my teeth and ran back into the bedroom, where Sherlock sat, still looking confused as ever. Too panicked to care about him in here, I chucked my pyjama to onto the floor and started to scrabble for my still-stiff shirt and blazer in the wardrobe.

“John!” Sherlock said again.

I turned around, clutching my uniform in one hand and clenching my fist with the other. “What?!” I said through gritted teeth.

“As I was saying,” he said, so calm that it actually made me feel even angrier. He was already in his uniform, for God’s sake! “Yes, classes do start at nine. But, our first class today- drama- starts at ten fifteen. After break.”

I stared at him blankly for a moment, catching my breath. And then I laughed until it hurt- sometimes when you’re so relieved, that’s the only reaction your capable of for a while. I looked down. “Of course. I had to be topless.”

“Well it’s not my fault you weren’t listening,” he rolled his eyes. Then a grin spread across his face in almost slow motion, teeth, crinkly eyes and everything. To say he merely ‘pulled it off’ would be an understatement.

“I hate you,” I shook my head slowly.

“No you don’t. You love me, really,” Sherlock smirked.

“I’m not sure if I’m really ready to commit like that, Sherlock,” I joked.

Our chuckles faded when our eyes locked: If I hadn’t felt like all of time and space hadn’t just vaporized outside the hold of his gaze, I probably would have discovered that I couldn’t rely on my knees to hold me up in such a situation.