Kiss Away The Pain (Teenlock) Chapter 1

WARNING: This story will contain mature themes including swearing, male on male sexual encounters, and violence. If you aren't comfortable with any of these things, please don't read. Thank you!!

Author's Note at the bottom.

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Sherlock was trying to figure out how to get out of the situation he had currently found himself in. He had made the bad mistake of provoking the rugby team captain and was currently backed up against a wall by a group of angry players. He knew what was coming, he'd been beaten up before and he knew there was no sense in trying to get away. It was also unlikely that anyone would be coming along to intervene, because all the professors were gone for the day and he had no friends, so he closed his eyes and waited for the first punch.

John was just coming down the hall when he saw his teammates all circled around something...No someone! They were about to beat someone up. He dropped his things and ran over, pushing his way through the group. "Hey! Stop it, mates. What are you doing?" Finally he made it to the space between the captain, Sebastian Moran, and a tall skinny boy with a mop of dark curls cringing against the wall. "Moran, what's going on here?" he asked, trying to get him to put down his arm.

Sherlock opened his eyes at the sound of a new voice, one he'd never heard before. He sighed and looked gratefully at the shorter boy, 17 years old if his memory served correctly, just transferred. His name was something common... Jim... or something like it. His thoughts were interrupted when Moran scoffed, "Freak here thinks he's better than us... we're gonna teach him a lesson." Sebastian turned back and punched Sherlock square in the nose, knocking him to the ground, "care to join us, John?" John, not Jim... Sherlock mentally corrected himself. He could see the evil smirk on Sebastian's face and cringed as his leg reared back, ready to kick him in the gut.

John jumped when Moran's fist whizzed past him and hit the boy in the face. He knelt down next to him as he fell. What could this boy have possibly done to make Moran and the others this upset? As John saw Moran preparing to kick the boy, he stood and pushed him backwards. "I don't beat up on people unless I have a good reason. And right now the only person I see who deserves a punch in the face is you." John stared defiantly at the older boy, arms crossed over his chest. He just wished he were a bit taller to complete his look of intimidation, but he did see some of the other rugby players backing away nervously.

Sherlock curled himself into a ball, the pain from the punch to his face unbearable. My nose is most definitely broken, he thought and focused on escaping deep into his mind palace to ignore the pain, as he always did. He didn't even hear the exchange between the other boys, too lost in his thoughts. Sebastian chuckled, "Aw, come on, John! We're just having a little fun!" He said and smiled, holding his hands out in an attempt to calm John down.

"Fun?" John said, seething. "I didn't realize when I joined the rugby team that I was joining a gang of bullies. If this is your idea of fun then I don't want a part of it. Or you." He glanced back momentarily at the lithe form of the boy on the ground. Blood was starting to pool from his nose, but he didn't look seriously hurt otherwise. Turning back to Moran, John gave him a dangerous look. "Get out of here before I call the headmaster and get you suspended from the team."

The smile quickly dropped from Moran's face and he furrowed his brow in anger at John, "Fine. Whatever," he retorted and spit in Sherlock's direction before turning to walk away. "Later, freak... C'mon boys, let's go." He walked away with his fists clenched at his sides and the other players followed. Meanwhile, Sherlock was running through the periodic table in his mind for the fourth time, shaking and waiting for the next punch or kick to come.

John waited until all the boys had turned the corner, keeping a stern eye on them, before bending down next to the boy. He could see his body trembling and felt even more angry at the boys for their behaviour, but pushed it away. He needed to help this kid, whoever he was. "Hey," he said quietly, and gingerly rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Are you alright?" He seemed so helpless, the way he had laid there and accepted the beating. There was no way that he had done anything more than be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sherlock jerked as he felt the touch to his shoulder, expecting it to be another punch. He relaxed once he heard John's voice and opened his eyes, looking at the other boy's face for the first time. He was quite handsome, with his dark blue eyes and short dirty blonde hair. He was definitely an athlete with his broad shoulders and slightly muscular frame making up for his lack of height. "F-fine... I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained and shaking. He winced as another pulse of pain shot through his nose and he reached up to wipe the blood away with the back of his hand.

John's heart went out to the boy when he saw him flinch at his touch, but he was glad that he didn't try to move away. "Come on. I know how to fix your nose up." He offered the boy a smile and held out his hand. Now that he wasn't trying to protect him, he got a good look at him. His eyes were a piercing blue-green that he'd never seen before on a person, and his hair was a complete mess of curls in all directions, but it seemed to work for him. Not to mention he had some prominent cheekbones. He mentally scolded himself for thinking this, though. He wasn't gay... Not really anyway.

Sherlock glanced from John's hand back to his face and he hesitated before grabbing it and allowing himself to be pulled up. "You don't have to do this, you know," he stated, pushing himself up off the floor with his free hand. He was shocked the boy even ran the other boys off, let alone that he was trying to help him now, no one had ever shown any kindness toward him before. Curious, he thought, intrigued by John. He found himself analyzing him without thought, taking in his full appearance, but looking away after his thoughts took a more personal turn. He had always known he preferred males over females, although he had never been involved with either romantically, but this was not the time to let his look linger too long. He still wasn't sure how John would react to that sort of attention.

John pulled the boy up and shrugged a little. "I know I don't have to. But I want to." He looked up at him and could see the almost calculating look in his eyes. It was a bit unnerving, especially because he didn't understand why this boy would be looking at him that way. Unless of course he didn't trust him just yet. John supposed he couldn't blame him for that after the way he had been treated. He gestured for the boy to follow him down the hall, intending to go into the bathroom and clean him up. Luckily he always kept a first aid kit on him. "What's your name?" he asked, glancing at the boy.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said, following John down the hall. He easily fell into step with the shorter boy, their arms brushing occasionally as they walked. "Your name is John... Watson, right?" he asked, his head tilting a little. He still felt nervous, not knowing how observant John was and trying to keep his thoughts in check, though he still maintained steady eye contact with him.

John nodded. "That's right. Nice to meet you," he said. He couldn't help but notice the small amount of contact between them as they walked, but he didn't mind. At least the boy, Sherlock, seemed comfortable enough not to walk at a distance from him. They made it to the bathroom and John led Sherlock over to the basin, turning on the water so that it would warm up a little. He got some paper towels and wet them, reaching up to clean the blood from Sherlock's face. His skin was so pale it made the crimson stand out that much more, and John shivered a little, feeling a strange sense of de ja vu. Shaking his head, he asked Sherlock, "What did you do to get them so riled up?"

Sherlock winced a little as the paper towel grazed his nose, still sensitive to any sort of touch. "Ah, I, um... caught Sebastian cheating on an exam earlier this week and threatened to tell the professor... He didn't take too kindly to my observations, he rarely does. I should have known better than to provoke him, especially after last time..." Sherlock bit his lip and looked away, remembering how bad of shape he ended up in last time Moran had decided to 'teach him a lesson'.

John paused for a moment, not lowering his hand, but quirking his mouth to the side. "He does this a lot then," he said, continuing more gently with his cleaning. It wasn't a question. John had found out quickly that Moran had a temper, but he didn't know that he took it out on defenseless people. Once the blood was gone, John patted Sherlock's face dry and got out his first aid kit. There was a nose splint inside which he brought towards Sherlock. "This might hurt a little. I don't think your nose is broken, or your tear ducts would probably be going wild. But you should wear this at least for today." John put the splint in place as gently as he could.

Sherlock groaned at the slight pain, "Yes, though this time wasn't nearly as bad. If it weren't for you I may have ended up in the hospital again." He grabbed John's hand and squeezed it, "thanks... for everything," he murmured and smiled shyly.

John's eyes widened just a bit. Moran had put him in the hospital last time? Well, that was it. He was going to have to make sure that Sebastian Moran never laid another finger on Sherlock. He was a bit surprised when Sherlock took his hand, but he smiled and squeezed back. "You're very welcome." John bit his lip. Sure, he wanted to protect Sherlock, but that would be strange if they weren't friends. So he supposed that was the next step. "So, um...Are you doing anything today?"

Sherlock released John's hand and ran his fingers through his curls, "Not that I know of," he said, surprised John would want anything to do with him after this. "Why? Did you have something in mind?" He hoped he wasn't misreading things, but it seemed as if John wanted to spend more time with him and he was more than willing, in fact it was the first thing he'd looked forward to since... well, ever.

John scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "Well, I don't have anything specific in mind, but if you want to hang out..." He looked up at Sherlock nervously. Did he trust him enough to want to spend time with him? Did he even want to spend time with him in the first place? He waited for Sherlock's answer, wringing his hands together.

Sherlock smiled at John's nervousness, "of course. Would you... like to come over?" His heart began to pound in his chest from what was either excitement or his own nerves, he couldn't tell. It was exhilarating either way and he hoped he hadn't overstepped some boundary, never having any friends growing up caused him to be rather inept socially.

John grinned up at Sherlock. "Sure. If I'm not intruding or anything." So this was it. He was really making friends with Sherlock. He shouldn't have felt so excited about this, but he did. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Sherlock was a handsome boy who actually seemed pretty genuine compared to everyone else he had met since transferring here. John jerked his head toward the door. "Let's go. I'll give you a lift if you tell me how to get there."

"Brilliant!" Sherlock exclaimed, blushing as soon as he said it. Dammit, not so excitable, Sherlock!, he cursed himself and walked with John to his car. He shot a quick text to his brother Mycroft to let him know he was bringing a friend home for dinner and to try not to run him off with his bluntness. As they approached the lot, Sherlock spoke again, side by side with John, "So, what brought you to London?" he asked, wanting to learn as much as he could about the other boy.

John chuckled a little at Sherlock's exclamation and he led him out to the car park. As they walked towards the end of the lot, John answered him. "My father got a new job in the city and we had to move closer. It's a lot different from where we used to live. We were out in the country before." They walked towards the outer edge of the lot, not to a car but to a motor bike. John turned back to Sherlock with a sheepish smile. "I hope you don't mind. It's a lot easier to have one of these in London than a car."

Sherlock was both excited and apprehensive at the prospect of being so tightly pressed against John and he felt his heart rate increase again. He gave John a smile in return, "Of course, no problem. I live out on the edge of the city, 418 Holmes Court. It's um... a big house. Kind of hard to miss," he chuckled nervously.

John nodded slowly, making the connection between Sherlock's last name and the name of the street. Maybe it was just a coincidence...Maybe. He climbed onto the bike, wishing that he had a helmet so that he could offer it to Sherlock, but he didn't even wear one himself. He patted the spot behind him and smiled charmingly at Sherlock. "I'll be careful, I promise," he said, winking at him. What was going on? He was almost flirting with him.

Sherlock smiled cheekily and hopped on, wrapping his arms around John's waist and scooting as close as he could. Just for safety, of course. He still had a smile plastered on his face as he got settled. "I hope so, because if I fall off, you're coming down with me," he breathed in John's ear, testing the waters. He'd never flirted before, but it was so natural with John that he couldn't help it.

John felt shivers going down his spine as Sherlock pressed against his back and he flushed at the deep voice in his ear. Swallowing, he looked back at Sherlock and let his lips twitch up a little. "Hang on," he said and started the bike. He turned out of the car park, onto the street, and zoomed through the normal traffic as fast as he felt was safe. Which for John Watson was pretty fast.

Sherlock smirked at his reaction and tightened his hold as they sped out of the lot. He'd never ridden on a motorbike before, but it was very exhilarating and the speed coupled with how tightly pressed he was to John caused adrenaline to flood through his system. He leaned forward and rested his chin on John's shoulder, smiling. He was extremely happy and hoped that John was okay with the closeness.

John smiled as Sherlock's chin found its way to his shoulder. This was the closest he'd ever been to another boy before, and he had only known Sherlock for less than an hour. He leaned back a little, pressing into Sherlock's chest. He wasn't gay... but he could certainly get used to this.

Sherlock sighed contentedly, glad the rumble of the engine drowned out the sound. He was almost sad when they approached his massive driveway, loathe to give up this closeness to John. As they pulled to the front of the mansion, he could see Mycroft peeking out of the window of the third story and hoped he would stay up there for the duration of John's visit.

As they approached Sherlock's house- no, mansion- John gaped in shock. Alright, so that street was definitely named after him. That had to be the biggest house he'd ever seen. Suddenly he felt extremely nervous. Compared to Sherlock, John might as well be homeless. Bad enough that they lived in a tiny flat, but his father was actually working two jobs to make ends meet since his mother had left. If Sherlock found out he was poor, would he still want to be friends?

Sherlock studied John's face as he looked at the mansion and judging by his expression he seemed embarrassed, but why? Ah... he must not live in a house this big... he thought and suddenly felt a tugging in his stomach, not wanting John to be uncomfortable and choose to leave instead of staying. He grabbed John's arm and smiled reassuringly at him, "let's go inside." He lead the shorter boy into the house and through the foyer, stopping at the bottom of the spiral staircase and yelling up, "Mum, I'm home!" His mother yelled back down, telling him that dinner should be ready soon and he better eat this time. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to John, grabbing his hand and squeezing, "Come on, I'll show you my room."

John bit his lip as he looked up at the house, trying not to feel like a pauper in comparison to Sherlock. He was reassured by the hand on his arm and followed Sherlock inside after turning off his bike. The inside of the house was just as incredible as the outside. The staircase was made of a shiny dark wood and steps that looked like marble. Oh God, were they marble? How much money did Sherlock have? There was a chandelier hanging right in the center of the foyer, high up on the vaulted ceiling. John was pulled from admiring the house with wide eyes as Sherlock took his hand. He squeezed it back, attempting a smile as he went up the stairs with Sherlock.