Missing. (Johnlock) (Teenlock)

Chapter three

A few weeks had passed since the boys had sat together in the library and, to Sherlock's amazement, he and John became something which others may consider 'friends'. In fact, the pair could frequently be seen talking during maths and in break times. This meant that Sherlock had been introduced to John's other friends who were extremely impressed by the new boy, though it was clear the boy wasn't comfortable being around the others,

"So," Mary said, looking towards Sherlock one lunch time, "why did you transfer here?" 

Sherlock looked up from his chemistry book and frowned, "To get away from nosy girls." He muttered, turning back to his book. Mary laughed, assuming Sherlock had been joking.

Molly, on the other hand was completely entranced by the boy and it was evident that Mary's previous words had been correct, the girl was falling head over heels for him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem as though Sherlock even knew she existed, let alone feeling the same way. 

After a moment, Sherlock groaned and slammed his fist on the table. With that he stood angrily and began to walk away. John blinked at the boy and gave his friends an apologetic look,

"Be right back." He said, jumping up and jogged after Sherlock, "What was that?" He asked, frowning at the boy.

Sherlock glared at the floor, "It doesn't make sense." He muttered, "The equation had to be right, there was no other way that he could have died." 

John blinked, "Wait,died? Sherlock, what are you talking about?" 

The boy just grumbled to himself, "I've got an internship at Scottland Yard, well, they actually need the help. The police are so unobservant. I'm investigating what initally looked like a suicide, though on my inspection I realised they were wrong." 

John couldn't help but frown, Sherlock was working for the police? He wasn't even sure that Sherlock was his age, "Um, Sherlock, how old are you?" He asked awkwardly.

Sherlock frowned, "Not that it matters, but I'm sixteen. Yes, I was moved up a year, let's move on." He grumbled.

For the next few days, all John could think about was Sherlock. He lay on his bed, dreaming of the boy's long curls, gorgeous eyes, even the fact that the boy was younger seemed to make him more appealing. Despite John thinking he knew Sherlock, their last conversation had him completely baffled. How could he be so clever and talented? John's thoughts were disturbed by a loud beeping in his pocket. He jumped slightly, then reached down and picked out his phone, looking down to the message he'd been sent. Though it made him frown,

'I'd advise you to go to the library.

MH'

The boy frowned at the text, trying to work out who 'MH' was, though it soon dawned on him that it was Mycroft, Sherlock's brother. John couldn't help but feel worried, why would he be needed there unless it was something to do with Sherlock? And anyway, it was nearly ten thirty and soaking outside.

John sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. He stood and grabbed his coat, making his way to the library.

Down the same isle as before, sat Sherlock, his once bouncy hair now drenched and sticking to his face. The delicate skin on his face was beginning to bruise, and the glimmer of wonder and hope had faded from his eyes. As soon as he saw the boy, John knew something had gone horribly wrong.

"Sherlock?" He called, beginning to jog over, though the boy didn't respond. John knelt down in front of him and gave him a longing look, "Hey, Sherlock, what is it?" He asked softly. 

This time Sherlock heard and flinched, glancing up in fear at who was standing over him, though seemed to relax when he recognised the body, "John." He whispered, a smile beginning to light his face, though he pulled it away. John shook his head,

"What happened?" He asked, reaching over and gently placed his hand on Sherlock's cheek, lightly touching the bruising. Sherlock flinched and shuffled away,

"N-Nothing." He stammered, eyes fixed on the floor. John sighed,

"You don't have to lie to me, I'm here for you." He said with a comforting smile.

Sherlock shook his head, "You wouldn't understand." The boy whispered. 

At this point, John frowned, he didn't like not knowing why Sherlock was upset and the way he was acting made John terrified. He reached down and lightly took hold of the other boy's jaw and lifted his chin so that they faced each other.

Initially, Sherlock would have moved away from the contact, though something made him feel safe with John, something he hadn't experienced before.

John looked down into Sherlock's eyes, getting captured by their beauty. He took a deep breath, "You're perfect." He whispered.

Sherlock's breath caught in his throat. For once he didn't know what was happening, why John was staring at him like that and why he could feel his heart hammering away in his chest. Though somehow, he liked it.

In a moment of perfection, John found himself closing his eyes. He began to lean forwards until he was inches away from Sherlock's lips. The boy looked up at him, almost completely clueless on what was happening. Until it happened. John's lips pushed down against Sherlock's and John felt sparks fly between them. The moment seemed so perfect, that all John could do was stay and hope, no beg that Sherlock felt the same way. Every moment has to end, and soon reality caught up with John, though his reality was a hard shove to the chest. The boy fell backwards, landing in a sitting position and glanced up at a terrified looking Sherlock. John paled. Sherlock's eyes were wide open and his breath was fast. The boy had began trembling and John looked over him, 

"Sher... Sherlock, are you ok?" He whispered, knowing full well the other boy wasn't.

Fear churned in Sherlock's stomach and he felt his mouth go dry. 'Classic signs of a panic attack' the voice inside of Sherlock's head told him, yet it did no good,

"Y-You..." He whispered, "We... we kissed..." Sherlock gulped and looked away, "I... no. I can't have. No. I-I don't f-feel that way towards... anyone. No. Not anymore." The trembling boy stood shakily and kept his eyes in the distance.

John felt a lump in his throat. He felt incredibly guilty, "Sherlock I-"

"I have to go..." The other boy whispered.

John blinked and stood up, looking towards the panicked Sherlock. Without warning, Sherlock stepped forwards and wrapped his arms tightly around John's body, holding him in a tight embrace. John's arms immediately found their way around Sherlock's muscular chest. Neither boy said anything. 

It wasn't until John heard a faint sob come from Sherlock's mouth that he looked up. The boy quickly pushed away from John, "I... I don't like you. I can't like you. It's not possible." Though the look he then gave to the boy clearly said 'but I still do'. John's heart pounded in his chest and he gave Sherlock a small smile,

"Maybe it's not impossible... maybe you could." He said hopefully.

Sherlock let out a growl, "NO!" He yelled, "I can't! You don't understand!" With that, the boy pushed away from John and dashed out of the library at top speed, leaving the other boy to stand in wonder.

It was then that it occurred to John that, before that day, he had only seen Sherlock have physical contact with one other person, Irene, and he looked as if he desperately wanting to get away from that. It made John feel even more guilty at how he had gone straight head and kissed him when it should have been so clear that the other boy disliked contact. John sighed, Sherlock would come around. He had to.