John stood stiffly in front of the crowded classroom. He shifted from foot to foot as he had to listen to yet another teacher generically introduce him to the class. It was his 3rd school in the past 2 years, he was used to it but that didn't make it any less awkward. No matter what the teachers said it was obvious that nobody in the classroom cared who John was and that they just wanted to get on with the lesson so they could leave. He shifted awkwardly on his feet as he anxiously waited for the teacher to finish introducing him so he could run to his seat and away from the spotlight.

It seemed like an eternity until the teacher gestured for him to sit down. He walked over towards the only empty seat in the classroom, it was right at the back near a boy with curly brown hair who had been tapping his pen impatiently against his notebook the entire introduction. The boy stood out to John as someone you wouldn't normally find in a high school classroom. He, unlike the other students in t-shirts and jeans, wore a long trench coat along with a scarf that had been tied around his neck.

He decided that it was probably best for him to attempt to make friends with the boy that he would probably be stuck sitting next to for the remainder of the year. He tapped the boy's shoulder to gain his attention. In seconds his head had whipped around and John was met with a pair of strangely coloured eyes. He couldn't figure out what colour they were supposed to be, were they blue, were they green, were they some colour unknown to humans. If he hadn't known that aliens were most likely not real he definitely would've expected him to be one.

"My name's John," he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. The boy, whose name he still didn't know gave him an unamused stare in response. He turned his head back to the front and quickly jotted something down onto the paper in front of him.

"I'm aware, you were just introduced to the entire class, you know," he said sounded very annoyed. John mentally facepalmed, mystery boy was right, he had been. He felt so stupid that he had forgotten.

"Well what's your name then," John asked as he tried to quietly make conversation with the boy. The boy didn't look back at him and just continued to write notes on his piece of paper.

"Sherlock," he said quietly. John took a moment to process the information and to file it away for future notice. Sherlock, his name was Sherlock. He didn't know what to make of such a strange name.

He smiled at him and held out his hand, "it's a pleasure to meet you, Sherlock," he said amicably. Sherlock turned back to him and he once again found himself under the watchful gaze of Sherlock's strange eyes. He felt like he was being studied in a lab beneath the gaze. Sherlock took his hand wordlessly and shook it. "Likewise John Watson," he said.

John had expected their conversation to continue but Sherlock had quickly let go of his hand and gone back to whatever he was writing down on the paper. John sighed and leant back in his seat, it seemed like trying to talk to Sherlock would be a lost cause. He decided to instead attempt to pay attention as their teacher prattled on about algebra but quickly found himself zoning out again. It wasn't that he didn't understand what the teacher was talking about, it was that it was so boring that he just wanted to fall asleep on his desk. A quick look around the classroom confirmed that a few of his other classmates had had the same idea as there were a few students with their heads down on their desks who didn't even look like they were even attempting to pay attention to the teacher's boring rant about algebra that seemed to be lasting hours.

He turned to Sherlock to see if he was in the mood to talk to him. However, much to his surprise he was furiously scribbling in a notebook, his hand moving so fast that John could barely keep up with the speed. He tried to catch a glimpse as to what the boy might be writing but his handwriting was practically illegible, it would be a miracle if Sherlock himself could even make out the words later. However, whatever Sherlock was doing it certainly had nothing to do with the algebra the teacher wouldn't shut up about. It was almost like he was in his own little world and couldn't even hear the boring lecture that was being given.

He tapped him lightly on the shoulder and whispered to him, "hey." Sherlock abruptly dropped his pen which loudly clattered to the floor. It echoed around the classroom and the teacher went quiet at the sound. She paid no attention to the people drawing in their books, nor the people sleeping in the front row, hell she didn't even take a glance at the girl who was in the process of trying to sneak out the window, her eyes went straight to the two of them. "Are you two even listening to a word I'm saying," she asked loudly.

John heard the snickers of a few of his classmates at her question. Just his luck, the first day at the new school and he was already in trouble. He frantically tried to nod to assure her that he had in fact been listening to her lecture, as boring as it may've been. However, Sherlock spoke before he had a chance to get out frantic yes's. "Of course we're listening," Sherlock began. John let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief at Sherlock's response. He had not only told her that he'd been listening, even though Sherlock had obviously not been listening, but also that he had been too. It made him smile to think that this boy who he had barely known an hour was ready to stick up for him.

However, whatever relief John felt quickly died when Sherlock continued to speak. "It just takes time to process so much stupid in one go." John couldn't believe his classmates words, had he really just said that. Any thoughts about Sherlock that were good instantly died, he had just thrown him under the bus, and on his first day too. He was pissed, he wanted nothing more than to punch Sherlock in one of his annoying perfect cheekbones, but he knew that violence unfortunately was not the answer. Violence would only lead to more trouble and any chance of making friends squashed.

The teacher just sighed at Sherlock's response as if it were as normal as the sun rising. "Thank you for your input Mr Holmes but other students are clearly interested in my lecture and do not as you put it, find it 'stupid.'" John was surprised at how level-headed their teacher sounded as she gave her response. He couldn't help but wonder how regularly this happened, at any other school Sherlock would've been sent to detention or the principal's office for such a comment yet their teacher just sounded vaguely annoyed.

He didn't know why he had expected Sherlock to just leave it, he knew that he shouldn't of. It was clear that he was an outspoken person and wouldn't keep his opinion to himself. However, he had not expected him to throw their entire class under the bus. "'Interested,'" Sherlock said as he made quotation marks around the word. The teacher simply glared at him, "yes interested."

Much to his surprise Sherlock actually laughed at that. It surprised John how beautiful Sherlock's laugh actually was, it was almost like in the movies when you heard choirs of angels singing except in laugh form. He felt himself smiling upon hearing the sound. "So is your definition of interested different than mine," Sherlock asked almost innocently.

"Interested, the act of having the feeling of interest or showing curiosity or concern about it," she quoted as she glared at him. It was obvious by her tone of voice that this had happened before, especially given her text book recitation of the definition.

"So does that include sleeping in class, doodling in books, playing on phones and trying to escape out the window," he asked his voice still sounding oddly innocent. The girl who had been attempting to escape glared at him as she returned to her seat grumbling about how it was all his fault. Despite Sherlock's assessment of the classroom's level of interest the teacher still didn't seem to particularly care about the sleeping or distracted students, she kept her gaze fixed on Sherlock Holmes.

She took a deep breath in as she locked eyes with Sherlock. "I believe we weren't talking about the rest of the class but whether the two of you were listening, so Sherlock can you tell me what my so-called 'stupid' lecture was about," she growled.

John had expected Sherlock to be beaten upon hearing her question. There was no way that he had been able to listen while scribbling whatever he had been in his notebook. However, without missing a beat Sherlock answered her question, "in short you were giving us a lecture about the origins of algebra, despite it having no relevance to the current topic which is supposed to be calculus."

She responded by staring at him in stunned silence. "Just do page 34 of your books," she said sounding flustered as she sat down at her desk and began to play with her phone. John stared at Sherlock in shock, while the boy was an asshole he was a brilliant one. A brilliant, annoying asshole who seemed to have no fears about how people would react to his harsh comments about the teacher's lecture. A look around the classroom told him that she hadn't bothered to do anything about the sleeping or doodling students and had just decided to give up.

"That was brilliant," he said as he looked at Sherlock brightly. Sherlock blinked at the reaction before he seemed to regain himself. "Thanks."

"Look I know I'm new here and this is kinda soon but do you want to be friends," John asked sheepishly. He didn't know why he was attempting to open up towards Sherlock but something felt right about it. Usually, he had trust issues and ended up as a loner as a result but this felt different. Something within him told him that Sherlock Holmes was a person that he could trust. He felt that this would be the start of a beautiful friendship.

"Look, John, you seem like a nice person and all so you should know that people will not accept you if you're my friend, you will be a social outcast. If you make friends with me John Watson, that's it, trust me when I saw we're better off not being friends, in fact, we're better off not even talking to one another."

The words hit John like a bullet to the chest. He didn't know how he should feel upon hearing them. The logical part of him knew that Sherlock had to be doing this for a reason, it knew that Sherlock didn't want him doomed to be a loner alongside him. However, the less logical part of his brain screamed at him that it was simply that he didn't like him.

"I don't care about what other people think," he answered in response. It wasn't like he would make other friends anyway with his trust issues. Making friends wasn't really his area of expertise. "Besides I can just hang out with you and your friends, can't I?" He worried that perhaps he had sounded too hopeful or that he was being desperate. It was just that something about Sherlock drew him towards him and gave him the desperate desire to be his friend.

"John," he said as he looked away back at his notebook. "I don't have friends." John felt his heart break for the boy in front of him, he had to be so lonely. He knew how it felt to not have friends, but that didn't mean that he hadn't had people he could talk to and joke around with. Despite his friendless status, he'd always had Harry to fall back on. It seemed to him like Sherlock didn't have anybody and a small part of him wanted to be that somebody despite the fact that they had only just met.

"Isn't that lonely," he found himself asking before he could stop himself. Sherlock simply shrugged and responded, "alone is what I have, alone protects me."

John looked at him dead on and if Sherlock had seen the look he was giving him he would've turned to stone then and there. He grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and turned them so that they would be facing each other. "Get this into your head, alone doesn't protect people, friends protect people."

He would've gotten up and left to make his point seem that much more dramatic but he couldn't as they were in the middle of class so he couldn't just up and leave. The teacher, after all, was already pissed at Sherlock and it probably wouldn't make a good impression if he just up and left, despite the fact that he wanted to.

"I don't need friends John, what I need right now is for you to shut up so I can finish trying to crack this case." He didn't quite understand what Sherlock meant by 'cracking the case' but he assumed that it was some lame excuse to make him shut up which he found quite rude. He wondered if his initial thoughts that Sherlock would make a good friend had been entirely wrong, maybe the boy was just an asshole.

"Fine, not like I wanted to be friends with you anyway," he angrily muttered under his breath. He heard Sherlock whisper under his breath, "thank god." That only served to piss John off even more, what did this pretty boy think he was doing. He had thought that maybe he would've been a cool person to talk to given that they would be stuck next to each other for an entire year, however, it seemed that the great Sherlock Holmes was too high and mighty to talk to the lowly John Watson. Apparently, he didn't need friends, so it was no wonder that the prick didn't have any.

He imagined all of his hopes at finally having a friend, someone he was close with, as a small bug which he squashed beneath his feet. Sherlock obviously didn't want to be friends anyway so what was the point in even hoping for it, he wondered as he heard the end of class bell ring. He turned his head away from the boy beside him and watched as his fellow classmates left. The first one out the door was the girl who had tried escaping out the window, followed by the students who had been playing on their phones or doodling in their notebooks. Last but not least the students who had been sleeping dragged themselves out of their seats and out of the classroom. He had expected Sherlock to leave pretty quick but instead he had just stayed in his seat and observed as the rest of the students left. It felt similar to the way he had watched John early as he had sat down. He wondered if Sherlock observed everyone as if they were lab rats in an experiment.

John got up and walked towards the exit of the classroom. The entire time he felt Sherlock's eyes on him, watching him intensely. It was almost unnerving, but then he remembered that Sherlock was just an asshole, he was probably doing it just to make him feel uncomfortable. He cast a glance back at him as he left the classroom, a part of him hoped that they would meet again but most of him never wanted to see those curly locks again.

Luck was not on John's side. As it turns out Sherlock was in every single one of his other classes and surprise, surprise the only free seat would be next to him. It was no wonder that nobody sat by him if he was willing to treat someone who just wanted to be friends like dirt. He wondered if maybe he was just being bitter. However, his mind had already decided that Sherlock was an asshole and nothing short of a miracle would change that.