He is lavish. Masterful. Intellectual, inexplicable, overt. Sexual. Sherlock Holmes defines extravagance. He isn't exactly the best thing for John's tireless, bland stability. John works the nine to five and tries not to lose sleep over the small things - like the labor of his fiancée's expectations, and the sirens that fill his head with noise after curfew. He finds comfort in art, and drinking. Besides the war making its presence known, slowly creeping its black tendrils into the heart of Bristol - John's life is quiet. Given that, he's not surprised when he is dragged into Sherlock Holmes's orbit. There is no manual to help him navigate the moment their eyes first meet; he presents himself as the perfect distraction, a beautiful incendiary miracle. John thinks that maybe he was hoping for this, because: Sherlock is potent, and inflammatory, and perfectly willing to make John's life hell for his own self-indulgent pleasure. With one touch, John's sense of self is corrupted. And what does it matter if the world implodes? It was never kind to them to begin with.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. All the characters are own by the bbc.

Sherlock fell. He died. I watched it. But angels have to fall so that they can walk among us.. * John starts seeing things. He starts seeing Sherlock. One time, he follows. John is thrown into what Sherlock tried to keep him out of. The eye of Moriarty's storm. Both Sherlock and John are desperate to find each other. Whilst the storm rages around them, determined to destroy them.

"I'm stupid," John says. "Why?" "Because I fell in love with you." "Yeah," Sherlock responds, "Definitely stupid." Set over the course of one school year in 2009, this is the story of two star-crossed misfits - Sherlock and John - smart enough to know that first love almost never lasts, but brave and desperate enough to try. They struggle through identity crisis, drug addiction, and child abuse together, along with dealing with the pain of a highschool that labels them as freaks. When Sherlock meets John, they spark a love that will remind you of your first - and how hard it pulled you under. "STFU ITS THE BEST FANFICTION I HAVE EVER READ AND YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT" - @dearwatson when I was arguing with her this one time Cover art by @meglet713 and re-edit by my dad, @dearwatson No copyright infringement intended. Story and characters belong to Rainbow Rowell and BBC Sherlock. (no reposting please)

John's never seen a kid like him. He has this beautiful, crazy grace - withheld behind a smug smile and wisecracks that make John frustrated in so many different kinds of ways. And his eyes; crystal clear, decisive, cleaning through the unimportant things to find the valuables in life. He may or may not have a thing for smoking and James Bond, his favorite ice cream is mint with a chocolate swirl, and he is absolutely addicted to Pop Rocks and toffee. He enjoys pretty boys and warehouses, where he can hoard and think and be alone. Also, bumper cars, and John Watson. But Sherlock Holmes's thing, his niche, his calling in life... is to steal. Books. Wallets. Phones. Cars. Everything you've ever wanted, he's had. Everything you've ever wished for, he's stolen. Everything you are, everything you told yourself that you weren't, he owns, and he plays you like an out-of-tune violin. Does that mean that John's going to let him steal his heart? Not a shot in hell.