Johnlock One-Shots

Greaser!Lock

John Watson wasn't the popular type. He never really was actually, he was the stereotypical nerd. Glasses, khaki pants, wearing button up shirts with a sweater vest over it. His glasses were square, and his sandy-colored hair was combed neatly to the side. He always carried heavy textbooks in his arms or in his over-packed book bag. John didn't mind though, he was used to it by now.

He was a year eleven at Baskerville high. There were social groups at school. Oh who was he kidding- every school has social groups.

The nerds- John included. They studied 24/7 and didn't have any friends except for each other.

The fandom geeks- Constantly going on theories about how this happened in that show. Constantly going on about how some guy by the name "Moffat" was the spawn of Satan.

The goths- They listened to post-hardcore all the time, drowning out everyone and everything else.

The prissy girls- Pink. Pink. Oh hey look- pink. Oh and they're all mostly cheerleaders or part of the dance team.

The preps- a group of kids with money and all the guys dressed the same. It was annoying to John.

The jocks- They all are a part of a sports team, and pick on the nerds. Scratch that, they pick on everyone. Everyone but The Greasers.

The Greasers- A group of boys with leather jackets and boots, slicked back hair and motorcycles. John only dreamed of being like one of them. They were cool and no one bullied them into having them turn over their lunch money. They were the talk of the school, and there were only five of them. The jackets they wore had the red words "The Baker Street Boys" embroidered into the backs of them. Wings rested on either side of the words, and a design stood above and below the red words. They looked expensive.

John was walking down the sidewalk of the school on October 31st when he heard five motors. "Motorcycles" he thought to himself. Their noises ceased and John tried hard to avoid them. They were near. He had a crush on one of them. This one was different, he didn't have ten pounds of grease in his hair-he kept it natural. They were raven curls, and his eyes were a mix between green and blue, with a dash of gold. Before you get all worked up about it- "gay is okay". That's what the Gay Straight Alliance at their school said. It was basically a club where gay/trans/bi/pan/any other sexuality or gender could come out. Baskerville wasn't really the homophobic school. John was gay, and that was okay.

Yesterday at the meeting John actually saw his crush stop at the doorway for a second, but walked away once they made eye contact. Bummer. Was John really that repelling?

"Oi! Where's our daily lunch money?" A voice broke John out of his thoughts. He sighed, the voice belonged to Greg Lestrade, one of the greasers. They had caught up with John.

"Come on guys, not today," John stopped and turned around. The tallest boy, with blonde hair knocked John's books out of his arms. His name is Sebastian Moran. John bent down to pick them up but a foot kicked them away. John looked up to see that foot belonged to the third greaser, James Moriarty. John sighed and stood up, only to be shoved backwards by the fourth greaser, Anderson. The fifth one, John's crush, stood about two yards away from the group as he watched the scene go down in front of him. Lestrade stepped forward and held John's collar and shook him.

"Give us your lunch money, nerd," He said. John winced at the harshness of his voice.

"Greg, c'mon. Put the boy down," The fifth greaser said. He was like John's night in shining leather coming to save him.

"Sherlock, we're just havin' some fun, calm yourself," Moran said.

"Put the boy down," Sherlock said more sternly. Greg paused a moment but pushed John back a little as he let go of John's collar. The four greasers left Sherlock and went to a different nerd to pick on. John fixed his collar and started picking up his books and papers. John was picking up his history book when a hand reached it first and picked it up for him. John looked up to see it was Sherlock. Their hands brushed against each other slightly and John blushed. Sherlock handed him the book with an expressionless face.