Sherlock stood outside of John's last period classroom, carefully reading the stray students and teachers as they walked down the hallways, silently judging each character as they passed. Sherlock felt a sudden, quickly-passing shock of nervousness as the bells rung and a flood of students poured out of the door. "John," he said, catching up with him as he bustled down the hallway, "John, I need to speak with you."

John looked back at Sherlock, slowing his pace so they could walk side-by-side, "Alright," he said, pushing the main doors open and taking a seat on the cold concrete stairs.

Sherlock cleared his throat, tentatively taking a seat next to John. He let in an oddly deep breath, as he had never known true nervousness like this before. He ran a hand through his hair, "I have reason to suspect that I may be in love with you," he said, smiling lightly as he judged John's feelings through his small, but definite, reaction.

John nodded, awkwardly looking around them as his hands fumbled with the hem of his uniform's jacket, "Why- uh, why do you say that?" he responded, looking back up at the other boy, squinting against the sun that hung just behind his head.

"I have noticed a persistent increase in my heart-rate when I'm with you, or when I'm thinking about you," he said, still taking in small information about John as small shifts in his demeanor made it almost possible for the aspiring detective to read the other's mind.

John nodded again, "Sher, I- I'm not gay," he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided direct eye-contact.

"Me, neither."

John chuckled, looking back into Sherlock's piercing aqua eyes, watching them melt gently as they stared at each other, "Fine," he said, taking Sherlock's hand in his own and standing up, "I have reason to suspect that I may be in love with you as well."