AN: Hi! Welcome to number 6 in the Sherlock whump series, and number one of my second bulk upload.
This one is a high school AU. Now just before you sigh and go on to the next fic, give me a second to pitch the idea.
John and Sherlock being sexy in uniform
Yeah…there wasn't much more to it than that. Haha, no really there was. This idea came to me while I was walking and after I'd seen this awesome picture: daunting fire dot deviant art dot com / art / Young – John – Sherlock – 179856930 (hopefully that link showed up) on DA.
The head master's announcement, if you're curious, is a thing called 'shirt sleeve order' used in some private schools which gives concessions about uniform on hot days like allowing sleeves to be rolled up and collars undone. True fact, I would know.
So we have Sherlock getting himself in a sticky situation and John helping him. RATED for STRONG TEENAGE LANGUAGE (the teenage bit makes it so much worse doesn't it? Am allowed to say that).
DISCLAIMER: Nope, amazingly, I don't own Sherlock Holmes. Moffat, or Gatiss may indeed write fanfiction, but I doubt it would be like mine, and sadly Conan Doyle is dead. However, all my original ideas and characters belong to me, so no stealing, thankyou very much.
Here I'm putting John at 18 and Sherlock 16. I think the age difference is a bit bigger than that, but this suited my purposes so I'm taking creative license.
John rolled his shoulders, luxuriating in the stretch and tipping his head back so he could feel the sun on his face. It had been a good day, but a long one, and he was looking forward to seeing Sherlock.
The boy's lips quirked just at the thought of his boyfriend, with his pale white, gangly limbs and his black curly hair and his lips and that voice. John's pace quickened. He rarely got to see Sherlock in school, being two years above him, so they usually met in a certain alley a block away. They didn't need to go so far, but they both liked the privacy of their little rendezvous. John wasn't far now, and he took a moment to glance down at himself. His shirt was tucked in over his flat stomach, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his collar was undone, according to an announcement from the head master when it had reached a certain temperature. John never dressed other than according to regulation. Sherlock teased him for it, saying he'd have to be a soldier some day based purely on his obedience to regulatory presentation, but John knew he liked it, he'd never really cared about his appearance before, but then there were (very few) drawbacks to dating someone as devastatingly beautiful as Sherlock was.
Hearing raised voices, John paused just outside their alley, frowning a little and unsure how to proceed. No one had ever interrupted their space before, except Sherlock's older brother Mycroft on one memorable occasion when Sherlock had punched him for trying to threaten John.
It was Sherlock's voice that brought John from his reverie.
"This is terribly boring boys, you've made your point, now would you kindly fuck the bloody hell off. I'm waiting for someone." There was a thud, and Sherlock gave a grunt of pain. Immediately, John rounded the corner, stopping at the scene before him.
Two boys – boys he knew, they were in the back row on the rugby team, on his team, in his year - were standing over Sherlock in a distinctly menacing posture. Their faces were flushed and angry, their fists clenched. Sherlock was on his hands and knees, spitting out a mouthful of blood, his blue-grey eyes sparkling with fury, his hair mussed and already messy clothes rumpled and torn. His knuckles were bruised and his face was red, bleeding from a small cut on his cheek. He looked like a fallen angel with an attitude problem. Beautiful, bruised, and severely pissed off.
"Davy. Mike." John's voice was soft, and Sherlock glanced up immediately, grinning when he saw his partner, mouth stained red with blood. The two boys between them turned and looked at John with expressions of surprise and guilt. John felts his fists curling loosely, the anger that had started to rumble in his gut growing steadily greater with each passing second.
"Captain. What are you doing here?"
John ignored the question. "Care to explain what you're doing?"
The two boys paused, looking unsure, and then Davy straightened, a nasty grin coming onto his face. "We were just teaching the Freak a lesson in getting to his knees. Figured it'd help him when he's a grown up faggot and he needs to go down quickly." Mike looked a little uncomfortable, but forced a laugh to join in.
John took a deep breath in through his nose, then took a few steps, so he was within an arm's reach of the pair. "Really? That's funny that. Really funny. You know who he is of course?" He kept his voice calm, casual, though by now even Davy and Mike must have realised it was forced. Sherlock watched with an expression of amused curiosity, leaning against one of the buildings lining the alley and getting his breath back.
In one swift, thundering movement, John broke Davy's nose. He then grabbed Davy and Mike's heads and slammed them together, so both gave a shout of pain, before spinning them around and shoving them out of the alley. "He's my fucking boyfriend you tossers! And if you lay a finger on him, I'll fucking kill you."
Davy and Mike stared at him wide eyed before running off. John decided then and there that neither would be playing for the rest of the season, he didn't care how good they were, or that it was their last year. No one hurt Sherlock.
Speaking of whom. John rushed over to where Sherlock was still leaning against the wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching him through half lidded eyes, a small smirk curling the right side of his mouth, looking far too goddamn sexy than he had any right to.
John swallowed, pushing down his want and scanning his friend, noting the blood matting his hair that he hadn't noticed before. "Are you alright?"
Sherlock huffed, apparently somewhat offended. "Of course." He grinned at his boyfriend. "You should get angry more often. Makes you look sexy." The way he said it was downright filthy, and John shuddered before leaning forwards, seizing Sherlock's mouth in a possessive, hungry kiss, ignoring his boyfriend laughing against his lips.
Afterwards, they sat against the wall, Sherlock leaning lazily against John and smoking a cigarette while John stroked his fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the bump on his scalp.
"So what did you do to piss them off?"
Sherlock rolled his stunning slate-silver eyes back to look up at John. "Hmm? What makes you think it was me?" His attempt at innocence was somewhat ruined by the cheeky grin that had come onto his lips. John grinned down at his boyfriend, leaning down to kiss his temple. Sherlock wrinkled his nose, pretending to dislike the sentimentality, though they both knew he secretly appreciated it.
"Don't play games. Mike and Davey might be idiots, but they're not that bad. Did you deduce them?" It was John's way of asking whether Sherlock had torn apart their characters with a cursory glance and a string of observations. Sherlock liked the way he put it.
The raven-haired boy frowned at the blue sky, taking a drag from his cigarette before replying. "I'm not sure. I merely asked when they were planning on telling Mike's parents about their relationship."
John paused, digesting and processing the ways he was going to respond to this statement. First, Mike and Davy were together. That was a surprise. Second, Sherlock didn't know why his knowing would bother them. John wasn't sure whether to laugh or slam his head against a wall.
"It only annoyed them more when I pointed out that Mike's Dad would probably understand, considering he was having a homosexual affair with Mr Murray. That was when they started punching. It was all very tedious." Sherlock pouted, putting out his cigarette, and John couldn't help it, he laughed. Sherlock sat up, turning so he could scowl at him. "What?"
John, still laughing a little, shook his head, taking Sherlock's wrist in one hand and reaching up round the back of his head with the other, gently winding his fingers through the other boy's curls. "Nothing, come here." He pulled him closer and Sherlock allowed himself to be pulled, eyes remaining open, watching him suspiciously. John just smiled and shook his head, kissing him deeply before pulling away to look tenderly into his eyes. "Oh my beautiful idiot."
Hope you liked it, it's sweeter than my others, but I felt like something a bit sugary. Besides, sexy uniform Sherlock is sexy. Haha, next one will be 'Playtime' with scary Moriarty!
Thanks for reading!