I'm Still Just Human

School's Out, Now I'm Bored.

The next day Sherlock gets a little special treat and it says, on a small note in a pen he's never seen.

Stand on the edge with me

He frowns at the words, the only person coming to mind who would send him something like that was John, but he doesn't recognize the handwriting. It just shows how well Greg pulled it off. Later on Sherlock finds John walking to his last of class of the day.

"It was you, right?"

"....Maybe?" He says with a confused shrug, he had no idea what Greg has done.

"Please tell me."

"Tell you what?" He says, before pausing, spitting out "Greg." The name comes off his lips like a curse word.

"It w-was Greg!?"

"I think he wrote it, but I'm not sure what he was planning because he thinks of you rather like a little brother." As if by some unknown cue, Greg walks by shoving John into Sherlock, and they fall to the floor. John on top of the younger and still smaller boy. John gives a short swear, arranging himself so he's not crushing Sherlock as they fall, the impact bruising his arms something awful. Instantly he asks,

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sherlock says softly, his breath caught in his throat at the closeness of the other. After a long moment of allowing the position, John says,

"I'm going to move now." Slowly he shifts off of Sherlock

"Wait!" Sherlock grabs his collar and leans up, his lips apart slightly. This causes John to freeze, careful not to move even an inch, leaving the choice to Sherlock who after another moment leans up and presses his lips to John's gently. John carefully responds, shifting so one hand can go from supporting him to cradling Sherlock's face. They kiss for a good while, when Sherlock pulls back finally.

"I know it wasn't Greg."

"Well, it wasn't me. I know Greg had planned something, but I hadn't known what he had planned."

"But he did it in your respect." Sherlock mutters. At John's graduation Sherlock is seen crying, something he's not done in a very long time. John himself isn't the most stoic, but he holds himself together for Sherlock's sake, staying close by.
At the end when the grads are all packing up to leave, Sherlock runs to John and wraps his arms around the now smaller person, John can only smile at him, holding him close.

"I don't want you to go."

"I know Love, but I have to. We've been over this." Sherlock again wells up with tears, he's never cried this much at all.

"It's alright, Sher." He says, wiping them away gently, his voice quiet.

"I'll still have time to come and help out here and see you, and by the time you're graduated I'll have a place lined out for us, if you want it."

"Yes! Very much!"

"That's still four years away. Things could change by then. But the offer will always be open, and I'll always come back to you, if you want me." Sherlock smiles, and of course nothing changes, in his last year he invites John to the graduation personally. Sherlock had come along way, and his powers of deduction and detection had grown to be one of the most amazing things known about the sociopath. Of course, John would have been at the graduation anyway, since he was having to talk to a young girl about recruiting her into the nursing and medical field, but he puts that off as he watches Sherlock. At the very tail end of the ceremony, as he walks towards his John, Sherlock gives that big dopey grin over the time John hasn't seen him he shot up a good four inches.

"Good grief, you're a giant." He says with a small laugh at seeing him after the ceremony.

"Six feet exactly!"

"You're so proud. It's indecent." He says with a teasing nudge, just wanting to be closer to Sherlock again. His hair has gone longer and even curly now too, girls fawn over his looks until they realize he's awkward and far too weird, and of course, it doesn't help that everyone knows he has an older doctor boyfriend, however brief John's visits usually are. But it's still hard to deny just how amazingly attractive the not so young man has become, his eyes are like a night sky when looking through green stained glass. He scoops John up into his arms.

"So about this house you've found us?" Again he laughs before jabbing Sherlock in the shoulder, forcing the taller to let him down, smoothing his clothes as he says,

"Well... It's not a house, but it's a flat with this nice older lady. She was a friend of my mothers."

"It works I'm sure." They go up to get Sherlock's things, smiling at each other all the way.