A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Here is the first chapter!!! its the same as the oneshot I posted before but don't let that stop you from voting lol...Enjoy<3

"I don't get why I have to go to Harry's stupid recital." John grumbled, sending his mother an angry glare as they settled into their seats at the front of the crowd.

"John, you're seventeen, stop your pouting." His mother scolded, sending a flare of embarrassment across the teen as he leaned back in his chair, slouching dramatically and trying to keep his face hidden. He was supposed to be at Rugby practice, not watching his irritating little sister's Ballet recital. "Sit up straight for Christ's sake." John rolled his eyes and fixed his posture, crossing his arms and reluctantly watching the stage as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.

The first several performances were the younger kids, stumbling through their routines awkwardly. It was cute, but John was unbelievably bored.

When it came time for Harry's performance, John's mother swatted the back of his head, making sure he was focusing. It was Harry's first performance without the whole group, and despite his complaining, John knew it was a big deal. She had been paired with one of the senior dancers in the troupe, and was apparently terrified about dancing with the older student.

The curtain rose, revealing Harry posed on the far-left side of the stage, her arms reaching for the ceiling and head bowed. On the opposite side of the stage, her partner was curled in on them self, both students frozen until the music started.

As Harry's partner sprung out of their original position, and John felt his jaw drop open in shock. Harry was dancing with a boy, a tall, thin boy that John recognized from his class.

The dance was stunning, both Harry and her partner moving in perfect sync across the stage. John spent the entirety of the song with his eyes glued to the boy, watching as he danced gracefully across the stage. He felt his chest tighten and his face burn when, at the end of the song, the boy lifted Harry over his head with surprising ease, holding her there for several seconds as the music stopped and the crowd erupted into applause. The boy lowered Harry and the pair bowed before they left the stage, the boy's composure never waning even though John could see the glee in his little sister's eyes.

John and his mother made their way backstage once it was permitted, searching for Harry in the crowd of dancers.

When they found her, she was chattering excitedly with her partner, whose name was still escaping John's mind. Harry caught sight of them and gripped the boy's elbow, dragging him over to where John and his mother were hovering.

"Mum! Did you see us? We did it!" Harry sprang into Mrs. Watson's arms, excitement pouring off her.

"I did! You both were amazing! I'm so proud of you Darling." John grinned at his sister, ruffling her hair and laughing as she swatted his hand away.

"Yeah, that was pretty cool Bug." John glanced at Harry's partner, offering the boy a shy smile. "I-I'm John, by the way." He offered his hand to the boy, who blushed slightly before taking his hand in a firm grip.

"Sherlock." Recognition flooded John as he finally connected the name to the face.

"Right, we have advanced chemistry together." Sherlock blinked rapidly, nodding shyly and blushing again, tugging at the hem of the loose t-shirt he was now wearing. "I didn't know you danced." Sherlock's blush deepened and he shrugged, avoiding John's gaze.

"Sherly is the best dancer in the whole troupe." Harry stated, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's waist and pulling him in for a hug. The taller boy looked shocked and slightly uncomfortable at the contact, quirking an eyebrow at Harry before reluctantly placing his arm around her shoulder.

"I'm not the best, and please don't call me Sherly." Harry ignored Sherlock, glancing between him and John for a moment before grinning mischievously and turning to Mrs. Watson.

"Mum, can Sherlock come for ice cream with us?"

"I don't remember saying anything about getting ice cream."

"Can we go get ice cream?" John laughed as his mother rolled her eyes, her resolve already caving.

"Fine, I'd like to get to know the young man who had his hands all over my baby girl." John snorted as Sherlock recoiled, pulling himself out of Harry's grip and blushing deeply.

"I-I'm not- it- it's not- we're not-" Harry pulled the confused boy back into her arms, laughing along with John and their mother at his distress.

"Relax Sherly, Mum knows nothing would happen between us. I came out to them last year." The blush didn't fade from Sherlock's face, and glanced almost anxiously at John. "You want to come?"

"I-I should go home. I have to study-"

"Come on Sherly! You always have to study."

"Don't call me that."

"Come with us and I'll stop." Sherlock sighed heavily, glancing at Mrs. Watson timidly while trying to wriggle out of Harry's grasp.

"She won't let you go until you agree." John offered, laughing at the distressed expression he received.

"Fine, I'll come. Only if you're alright with it, Mrs. Watson. I can pay for-"

"Of course I'm fine with it Dear, and don't worry about that. You're Harry's friend." Harry crowed, finally releasing Sherlock with a shove and spinning away.

John gasped as Sherlock stumbled into his arms, catching the taller boy before he fell. Sherlock blushed again, pushing out of John's arms and straightening his shirt, which had slipped off his shoulder.

"S-Sorry." He mumbled, stepping back a few feet and avoiding John's eyes.

"It's uh, it's fine." John felt his own face darken and rubbed the back of his neck, offering Sherlock a shy, lopsided grin as the boy started walking away. His eyes wandered down to the boy's arse before he could stop them, and he rubbed his face with his hands, sighing heavily.

Sherlock was going to get him in trouble.

It was a week after the recital before John saw Sherlock again. His mother had called, asking if John could pick up Harry from practice as she had to work late.

John arrived at the school, making his way to the Ballet studio. He knew he looked a mess, face covered in mud and scuffs on his jeans. He had come straight from Rugby practice and hadn't bothered to shower.

He stepped into the studio, glancing around the nearly empty room. Harry was no where to be seen, but Sherlock was sprawled out on the floor, not moving.

"Uh, Sherlock?" John asked, startling the boy. Sherlock shot upright, scrambling to his feet. As soon as he put pressure on his feet, the boy yelped and crumbled to the floor. "Jesus, what the-" John hurried to Sherlock's side, kneeling beside him and helping him to a sitting position. "Are you okay?" Sherlock nodded, wincing as he rubbed his feet.

"Y-Yes, just a bit sore." John nodded and reached for Sherlock's feet, tugging at the laces of his shoes out of habit. "W-What- what are you doing?"

"I can't tell you how many times I've had to patch up Harry's feet since she started dancing." John pulled the slippers off Sherlock's feet gently, taking care to not do more damage.

Sherlock's feet were covered in blisters and the skin was torn along the side of his big toe on his left foot. John sent a disapproving glare at the younger boy, who blushed and chewed his lip.

"You know, you really should bind your feet if you're going to practice that hard. You could really hurt yourself." Sherlock rolled his eyes, dropping back to the floor so he was lying down, hands covering his face.

"I'm aware of the damage that can occur. I simply forgot them at home and didn't have time to go back for them."

"Harry always keeps spares in her bag-" Sherlock shot upright, his face contorted in disgust."

"I refuse to wear someone else's foot bindings. That is disgusting!" John laughed, reaching for his own bag and digging out the first aid kit he kept in there. "Besides, Harriet's feet are several sizes smaller than mine, hers wouldn't fit me." John glanced at the foot that was still resting in his lap and nodded, Sherlock wasn't wrong.

"Speaking of Harry, where is she? Mum asked me to pick her up." Sherlock frowned at him, cocking his head to the side.

"Harriet left about an hour ago, said she was going to walk home." John blinked at Sherlock, shock and frustration filling his mind.

"Of course she did." He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands and shaking his head. Since John and Sherlock had met, Harry hadn't stopped bugging John about the boy.

There was no denying the fact that John was well on his way to developing a crush on Sherlock, and apparently Harry knew about it.

"Got to love siblings, eh?" John chuckled, trying to hide his blush as he continued tending to Sherlock's feet.

"If only." Sherlock mumbled, fussing with his t-shirt and glaring at the floor between them. "At least Harriet's being subtle about it. My brother wouldn't be so kind." Warning bells sounded in the back of John's mind, and he glanced up at Sherlock, his chest tightening as his eyes met the younger boy's.

"What uh- what's she being subtle about?" His voice shook slightly, and he prayed Sherlock wouldn't notice. He knew the answer, but he prayed Sherlock didn't.

A shocked and terrified expression passed over the other boy's face, and he hid his face in his hands, trying to tug his foot away from John's grip, but failing as he tightened his hand around the thin ankle.

"She uh- she-" Sherlock's face was covered in a dark blush as he looked around helplessly. "She wants us t-to da-date." John froze, blinking stupidly at the boy as Sherlock freed his ankle and pushed away from him, curling in on himself and dropping his head back against the wall.

John felt a flare of anger towards his little sister, how could she possibly think pushing him on this poor boy was a good idea?

"Sherlock, I-I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine. I tried to tell her you aren't gay, but she wouldn't listen-"

"Wait, what?" Sherlock flinched, and John realized how loud his voice was in the empty studio. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, I get it. You're straight." John felt his heart break at the miserable tone Sherlock's voice had taken on and let himself look at the boy, really look at him, for the first time up close.

He was pale, and possibly too thin to be properly healthy, and his cheekbones stood out sharply, giving him an elvish appearance. He had long limbs and thick, dark curls framing his face.

He was gorgeous, and John found himself smiling at the thought of dating the boy.

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Sherlock's head sprang up almost comically and he stared at John with wide, shocked eyes, his lips parted slightly. "I mean, I'm seventeen. A bit early to be deciding something that important, no?" Sherlock seemed to be frozen, the only movement was the rapid blinking. "You alive over there?" Sherlock shook his head, snapping his jaw shut and blushing.

"S-So, if I were to- to ask you out?" John grinned, shuffling closer to the timid boy.

"Are you asking?" Sherlock nodded, his eyes wide as he looked at John. He looked so young, like a little boy asking his granny for sweets. John pushed himself to his feet, reaching for Sherlock. "Come on then Tiny Dancer, I'll drive you home." Sherlock smiled shyly and let John help him to his feet.

"So, is that a yes?" John laughed and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to one of Sherlock's ridiculous cheekbones. "Oh." Sherlock gasped, pulling another laugh from John.

"Get your kit Dancing Queen."

"Are you going to persist with the ridiculous names?"

"Probably."

"Alright then." John laughed as he led his new boyfriend out of the studio, taking the hand of the timid boy and grinning up at him.

He was going to have to thank Harry when he got home.