When I'm Falling

Prequel to Catch Me If I Fall Johnlock Oneshot

A/N: AU: Unilock/Johnlock

Okay so I was inspired to do this. This will take multiple chapters, of course. A little more details on Sherlock's meeting and relationship with John. I know I have other Sherlock that needs completed. But you know. This is what happens when I watch Series 3 of Sherlock in one night. Not that it is that hard to do.

Warnings: Will not repeat. Graphic scenes of a sexual nature, including one non-con scene. There will be one attempted suicide, and a lot of language.

Chapter One

Can't Take No

The university life was supposed to be better. The people were supposed to be more understanding, more intelligent, and more able to handle his…eccentricities. Mycroft had warned him not to get close to people because it led to hurt and pain and Sherlock tried very hard. Unfortunately, instead of simply staying away from people and avoiding attention, he tended to attract unwanted attention of all sorts. And he couldn't understand most of the attention he got. His tendency to be unabashedly honest got him a reputation quickly. And that, actually, worked in his favor by keeping people away from him in most cases. But then there were those that came after him for other reasons than his intelligence. Like Caleb Macavoy.

"Come on, Sherl, you gotta come to this party, I promise, you'll have a great time!" Caleb said as Sherlock tried to make his way past him to his next class. "I'll make sure you have fun."

"I'm not interested in such things, please," Sherlock responded, as usual. He had turned down Caleb six times in the last three weeks. And he kept coming back no matter how bluntly he put things.

Caleb stepped in front of him, stopping him effectively, flashing his thousand watt smile as though it would change things. "Sherl, all work and no play makes you a dull boy," he said, winking one hazel eye at him.

"I will be dull, then. I have to get to class, Caleb. I have no time for your molestations," he said, stepping around him and using his long legs to his advantage to move away before he could move to follow him.

"Dude, when are you gonna give up on that freak?" another voice said, coming up on Caleb.

Caleb turned to his friend, Vincent Daniels. "Oh, not gonna give up. Have you seen him? I'm dying to see if that alabaster skin is as flawless as it seems…"

"There are better looking first years with much more amicable personalities, you know," his other friend, Eric Shackleford, said as he pushed up his glasses.

Among the group, only Caleb was of the preference for boys. In particular, younger boys that were new to the uni life. He liked to use his position as an upperclassman to his advantage, and his size and strength as a football player as well. He was popular, well liked, and well known. And never before had he been turned down by someone so often. And it only made him more interested. Not only was he uninterested in Caleb, it seemed, he had little to no interest in anyone, stating flat out the first time Caleb came onto him that he was asexual and had no interest in either sex, and kindly leave him alone. Caleb took it as a challenge. A real, honest challenge, to change this exotic, unattainable creature into some sort of sex fiend. He smiled at his two closest friends.

"But they are too easy. They fall at my feet when I pass by and beg me to fuck them senseless so they have some sort of badge of honor that Caleb fucking Macavoy took their virginity. No, no, this one…" he said, grinning even wider.

"You realize he's also younger than the rest of his classmates? He's barely sixteen," Eric provided. "If something goes wrong…he is underage, even though he's in uni."

Caleb arched a brow at Eric. "Oh, really? I knew he looked young, but didn't realize he was that young. So he's that smart, huh…even better."

"I still think this is a bad idea," muttered Vincent with a shake of his blond head. "I mean, you are going to so be frustrated if you keep this up and ignoring the easier fucks."

Caleb shook his head. "But don't you see, it isn't about an easy fuck. This is about power and control, my friends. I love to feel them under me, begging me and loving every minute, and knowing I put them there. And this one…the challenge, the chase, it is indeed exhilarating."

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

"Mycroft, everything is perfectly fine," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as he flopped onto his bed.

"Sherlock."

"No, I'm fine, they're fine, we're all fine."

"Sherlock, I know something is going one, what is it? I'm your older brother for a reason. I would like to keep an eye on you. You aren't exactly the most aware of your surroundings."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Just a guy that keeps bothering me."

Mycroft snorted. They'd been through bullying so much in boarding school with his younger brother. They'd gone through three before he finally got done early with a healthy dose of homeschooling.

"Bothering you, how exactly?"

"Nothing big, just keeps asking me to go to parties and stuff, and doesn't seem to understand I have no interest. I told him the first time that I was completely uninterested in him or anyone else, but he is…persistent," he said with a sigh.

"Has he done anything?"

"Mycroft, no, for godssakes. He just follows me about and keeps begging me to go to parties and telling me I need to loosen up and stuff like that. I guess he has a reputation for dating new students and they generally fall at his feet. I suppose he is interested in the pursuit," he said, rubbing a hand over his hair.

"Who is he?" Mycroft's voice had that overprotective tone to it that meant he was about to become involved.

"It isn't important; he's not doing anything, just a nuisance. Now please, I can handle some things in my life by myself, Mycroft," he said with another sigh.

"I understand, but Sherlock, you aren't as old as most of the students…and you are at a disadvantage because of it."

"I'm well aware, Mycroft. Mummy told me multiple times and so did my advisor," he said, huffing another sigh and flipping to lie on his stomach. "I am vastly more intelligent than most of them, including the professors. I think I can handle myself."

"Sherlock, I know that, but people are unpredictable sometimes. You need to be cautious."

"Bye, Mycroft," he said, clicking the phone off. He always tried to do this to him, run his life. He would know immediately if Caleb's intentions were to do anything untoward to him. At least, he hoped he did. He looked up as Mike came in.

"Hey, Holmes, how is it?" he said, flopping on the opposite bed.

Sherlock waved his hand toward him. "Stamford, the usual," he said, standing and looking through his bag for his chemistry work.

"So, I've got a buddy coming in tonight, you okay with that?" he said, putting away his books in his trunk.

Sherlock was lucky when it came to his roommate. Mike Stamford was exceedingly easy to get along with and was never bothered by Sherlock's surly moods. He left Sherlock alone when he wanted it, but he often tried to speak with him anyway. But he wasn't put off by Sherlock's dismissal of him. Mike had accepted him as a he was, something that not many people did.

"No problem, I likely will not notice the presence of another. I have reading before tomorrow," Sherlock said, sitting back on the bed and propping his book on his knees.

Mike nodded and tidied up a bit, putting his clothes away before his friend arrived. Sherlock was a bit curious, but it really didn't matter. Mike wasn't really his friend, he was his roommate and his acquaintance that put up with him. He was so absorbed in his reading that he didn't hear the knock at the door and Mike's announcement that his friend had arrived.

"Sherlock!" came Mike's voice by his ear. He jolted and looked up between Mike and a boy with sandy colored hair that looked about Mike's age.

"What?" he said, reflexively, blinking.

"Sherlock Holmes, my roommate," he said, pointing to him and then smiled. "John Watson, he's pre-med," he said.

Sherlock sighed. "Obviously. His sister is a drunk, currently having issues with her boy…no girlfriend…and she's got an obnoxiously annoying puppy at her flat which is where you just came from. A shar pei, or some mixed breed including it, but I rather think it is a pedigreed dog, but has terrible breath and drools excessively even for the breed. She's also a terrible cook, but you try your best to eat when she offers you tea. Today was an attempt at a late breakfast, omelets with spinach it seems. You also play football, and missed practice today, but just barely, and…" Sherlock stopped, blinking when he realized both boys were staring openly at him. "Oh, yes."

Sherlock picked his book back up and began to read again waiting for the inevitable questioning and indications of what a freak he was.

"Wow, that…that…" John stammered, adjusting his leather jacket. "That was bloody amazing!"

Sherlock frowned and looked up at him with curious eyes. "Mike told me about that, but wow, that's…just fantastic!"

"That's not the usual reaction I get," he muttered, looking over the new boy for signs of prevarication. He found none. Only open, unabashed amazement at Sherlock's skills.

"Oh?" John said, sitting down by his feet. "What do people usually say?"

"Piss off, or something like it," he said, tilting his head to the side and frowning deeper at the curious man.

John smiled a lopsided grin and snorted. "Fuck, they're just jealous of you, no one else can do that, I bet," he said.

"My brother does it better than I do," he said, honestly. "But he has a lot better luck with people skills."

John grinned at him. "Fuck people skills. You don't need them, they're overrated."

Again, Sherlock was surprised, raising a brow at him. Generally, he disliked cursing. It usually indicated a lack of sufficient vocabulary. However, it seemed so natural…and beautiful…coming out of John's mouth. Beautiful? Sherlock blinked, extremely confused by that thought. True, he'd been attracted to people once or twice in his life, hardly enough to move himself out of the asexual position, but it had been hormones at the time brought on by puberty. Now, why did he think that something as vulgar as foul language was beautiful when spoken by this young man? He was obviously an older student, toward the end of his medical studies, maybe as old as Caleb and his crew.

"Yes, but my lack of people skills generally serves to keep people at a distance, which I prefer," he said with a sigh, closing his book, sufficiently distracted by the new presence to not be able to read.

"Oh, hey, John knows your admirer," Mike said, flopping onto his own bed.

Sherlock shook his head. "Admirer, you mean stalker," he muttered, leaning back. "He was at it again today, I swear, I would think turning him down nineteen times in a row would be enough for him."

John looked between the two roommates. "Good night, who doesn't get the message after nineteen times?"

Sherlock snorted. "Caleb Macavoy apparently. He isn't used to hearing no."

Sherlock didn't miss the odd look to cross John's face. "Caleb?" he said, almost too softly.

"What do you know about him?" Mike asked, frowning.

"Oh, way too much. I'm on the team with him, at least until I start internship and can't play anymore. He's the captain, of course. And has a penchant for dating younger teammates until he tires of them, then dumping them for younger ones. Of course, not only on the team, but he always goes for first years," John said, frowning deeply now. "He's not very kind about them afterward, either. Telling the entire team what they did and how inadequate they were. I think he gets off on the power trip more than anything. But most the first years will fall to him, more than willing to date a popular guy even for a week or two. He's a fucking right cock, he is."

Sherlock sighed. "Well, he apparently doesn't understand the term 'asexual' either though I explained it to him the first time he indicated he wished to initiate a romantic relation with me."

John blinked. "Ah, well, I doubt he's ever encountered someone with that sexual orientation…"

"Never seen anything like it, myself, either John. I swear, I think I'm rooming with a monk sometimes," Mike said, chuckling. "Never wanna get rid of this bloke as my roomie. No socks on the door, no midnight wanking sessions…worst he does is play his violin, but he's bloody good at it, so it doesn't bother me."

"Really?" John said with a smile. "The sexuality spectrum always fascinated me. Are you entirely asexual? Or are you more gray or demi?" he asked, perceptively.

Sherlock knitted his brows. "Gray, I suppose, but one would have to have a meaningful emotional attachment to determine if one is demisexual. Something I've never had, so I suppose for now, I consider myself gray asexual."

Mike frowned, obviously confused. John helped out. "Demisexuals are asexual for the majority of the time, but they can have a sexual attraction to a person they have formed an emotional bond to first. Gray are those that every once in a while feel sexual attraction, but it can be fleeting or nearly non-existent."

"So is that why you're such a cold, logical, bloke?" Mike asked, frowning, still not understanding completely.

"Emotions are a hindrance, they cloud the mind and interrupt the pursuit of knowledge," Sherlock said frankly. "I thrive on logic and knowledge. Sentiment is a property of those that cannot control themselves."

John smiled, and Sherlock frowned at him. "You are more amused by this than you should be, Watson," Sherlock said.

"Can't help it, I find you fascinating, Holmes. For one, I have never actually met an asexual, and I've never met someone so entirely set on their left brain," He said.

Sherlock smiled despite himself. He was being praised for these things that most people teased him for. "Well, I'm glad to have fascinated someone, dear Watson," he said. "Most people don't like me. I'm used to it, to be honest. I don't have what you would call 'friends'. I suppose Mike would be the closest to that category."

"Sherlock's had his share of bullying during school," Mike supplied, being met with an eye roll from Sherlock. "His brother came with him the first day, had a little heart to heart with me. I really don't want to piss off his brother."

"I just got off the phone with him," Sherlock mumbled. "He's overly interested in the situation with Caleb. I told him to piss off about it."

Mike smiled. "Of course, he pulled you out of boarding school to get away from the wankers that were messing with you how many times? He worries about you, Sherlock. "

"He just likes to use his position as a member of the government to interfere in my life," Sherlock mumbled, in that moment, very much like a petulant child. John grinned to himself.

"John, you should know that Sherlock just turned sixteen in January," Mike said, looking at him. John blinked.

"Bloody hell, and you're already half a year through uni?" he said, turning toward him again and blinking.

Sherlock sighed, his head thunking the wall behind him. "Yes, yes…I'd rather not advertise the fact. I have enough problems without everyone knowing I'm bloody sixteen."

John frowned and looked at Mike with a worried glance. "Ah, yeah, well, nice to meet you Sherlock, hope to talk again soon, but Mike and I are going to a party tonight."

"Ah yes, I'm sure it is the one Caleb was trying to get me to go to today. Please, shove some other unsuspecting child at him so he'll be distracted from bothering me, I have chemistry to read before tomorrow," he said, picking his book back up and resuming his study.

John nodded and they headed out. They were quiet until they got to Mike's car when John put a hand on him before he started it.

"Mike, you need to keep an eye on him if Caleb's got his eye on him. He doesn't take no for an answer. In fact, there's a lot of rumors about how he's never taken no for an answer if you get my drift," John said, brown furrowed.

"You think he's actually taken it that far? I mean, I've heard he's an arse, and pretty damn relentless, but that's…" Mike said thoughtfully, hands dropping to his lap.

John shook his head. "Yeah, but those things are what leaves the locker room, if you get me. What I hear, and the rest of the team hears, is a lot more. There's more than one that have left uni after being his boy toy for a few weeks. And the things he says he does with them…even the most consenting person would balk at some of it. I just think…if he's got his eye set on Sherlock, you should make sure he's not alone too much of the time, you know? He's obviously not going to give in, and do what he wants, and it will piss him off. He's not known for his temper control on the field. He's obsessed with young and inexperienced boys, and if he figures out that Sherlock's sixteen…"

Mike frowned. "Something else, John?"

"It's just that I've overheard some things, just in passing, when he's talking to his two cronies. He's always talking about his 'boy' that he's going after. That he won't be turned down forever, and the like. And I've got to wonder how long his patience is going to win out, since he's been pursuing him for months now from what I understand. And he hasn't been in a relationship since he started this thing for him. Sherlock's right about him not being used to hearing no."

Mike nodded. "But I don't know what I can do, he spends most nights either in the library or the chem labs, and usually he comes onto him between classes…"

John shook his head. "I don't know, let's get to the party though. Maybe I can hear something that might help out. Keep your ears open. I'm sure Caleb will be there with Eric and Vince. They're inseparable. But maybe I can get Eric to talk. He's the nerdy one of the bunch and typically will escape when they're drunk."

Mike nodded and started the car and they headed to the large house. The party was in full swing, loud music pumping out, and cars parked all around it. They got in and were handed entrance drinks and set about to mingling. It didn't take long before both took notice of Caleb and his two cronies. Vincent was all over a girl who was sitting drunkenly in his lap. Eric was sipping at a cup of something with a great deal of disinterest at the debauchery taking place around him. Caleb was pawing at a younger man on the team who had been pulled into his lap. Jeff was his name, John thought. He was obviously very drunk, and wobbled on Caleb's lap, giggling madly as Caleb spoke into his ear. John thought it was a good sign. If Caleb was looking for a shag, maybe he'd let…

Just then he shoved the boy off his lap, sending him sprawling to the floor, blinking because he couldn't figure out what happened. Both Vince and Eric looked over. Caleb was frowning, and he just muttered something and stood up, stepping over Jeff and moving to the loo. Eric got up and shook his head. John grabbed him as he passed.

"He piss Caleb off? Looked like a good shag, to me…seemed willing enough…" John asked.

Eric rolled his blue eyes. "He's too fuckin' hung up on that Holmes kid. I swear, if he doesn't shag him soon, I'm gonna go out of my mind dealing with Mr. Moody."

"I heard he wasn't into him," he said thoughtfully, catching Mike's eye across the room.

"Yeah, well, you know how Caleb is. He's got a thing for taking the v-cards, you know. And he's obviously a virgin, and Caleb is dying to fuck him," Eric said. John realized he reeked of alcohol himself, so he was drinking. That was a bad sign. Eric was generally the sober one of the group.

John sipped his drink, a dark beer. "Well, not much he can do if the bloke won't even go out on a date with him."

"Fuck, he doesn't care about the date," Eric said, glancing over as Caleb came back and sat down with a no doubt stronger drink. Jeff had gotten up and left. "He just wants to fuck him. He's like some exotic, rare species that he has to conquer, you know. He's fucked gay boys, and he's fucked straight boys, so now, he wants this. The thing he can't have. But he'll have it, one way or antoher," Eric said, and John didn't miss the narrowing of his eyes.

"You don't approve."

Eric shook his head, stumbling to the right a bit. "Ah, yeah, not one for the fuckin' rape thing, but Caleb doesn't seem to care, as long as he gets what he wants. Wouldn't be the first time."

Eric suddenly looked shocked and looked at John and realized what he said. "Ah, fuck, John, don't tell him I said that. Shit, I'm drunker than I thought…" he said and stumbled toward the loo, looking a lot paler than he had been.

Mike put a hand on his shoulder and John looked at him. "You hear that?" he asked.

"I did. But what can we do?" he asked.

"Keep an eye on him, that's all we can do. He should be safe on campus, there's security, and you said he stays in the library and the chem labs. As long as he stays there, he should be fine. You might want to alert that brother of his, just in case, you know…" John said as he watched Caleb sulking on the sofa while Vincent made out with the girl who was now practically fucking him through his clothes beside him.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

"Um, Mycroft Holmes, please," Mike said into the mobile as he stood nervously outside class the next day. He was far away from Sherlock's classes, sure that he wouldn't be caught. "Um, Mike Stamford. It's about his brother, if that helps. Yes, ma'am, I'll hold."

He looked up to see John coming up to him he mouthed to him "Mycroft" and he nodded.

"Mike Stamford? You are my brother's roommate," came the cultured sound of the elder Holmes brother's voice.

"Yes, sir, I am. I just thought I should make you aware of the situation with a fellow who seems to be…ah…interested in your brother…and I'm a bit worried…" he said, glancing at John who nodded encouragingly. Of course, he'd never met Mycroft. He wouldn't understand the nerves that Mike had at that moment.

"Yes, Sherlock mentioned a fellow that seemed insistant in forging a relationship despite his desire to the contrary. Something has come up?"

"Well, its just that my mate John is on the football team and we overheard some things, and it seems that Caleb isn't too keen on the taking no for an answer…and may become a little more…aggressive in the near future."

"Caleb. Caleb Macavoy?"

Mike frowned and glanced at John. "Um, that's him. How'd you know about him? Sherlock said he didn't tell you who it was."

"Easy enough to deduce, Mr. Stamford. I would thank you and Mr. Watson for your concern over my brother. I do appreciate it quite a bit."

The phone clicked off and Mike looked at John. "He already knew you and Caleb. That man is creepy," he said with an arched brow.

They got back to the dormitory to find Sherlock gathering books. He nodded to them as he started to leave.

"Oi, where you off to?" Mike asked as he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Library, like usual. Caleb came by here earlier, I blew him off but I'm tired of dealing with him today. Prat has shown up after every single one of my classes to badger me, and I'm done with him. I figure the library is the only place he can't bother me while I study," Sherlock said with a sigh. "He's bloody annoying. I have no idea what happened but he's particularly annoying today…"

John and Mike exchanged glances behind his back. "You want us to come with you? He's an annoying git, maybe…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "No, I'm fine. Besides, what can he do but keep asking the same thing again and again? I'll have him tossed out of the library if he bothers me there, I'm sure Mrs. Atheson would do that for me after I helped her figure out who was stealing from the back room a few weeks ago."

Mike nodded. "Okay, but take your phone. I don't trust that guy, I met him at the party last night, and he's a wanker, alright."

Sherlock didn't want to admit that he was indeed hiding from him. He'd really shown up after every single one of his classes today. And it was incredibly annoying and each time he had gotten increasingly more aggressive about coming to his dorm that night. He'd dropped all pretense that he was taking him on a date. It had already been apparent to Sherlock that he wanted a sexual liaison, but now he wasn't even covering that fact with flowery words. After his last class, he made it abundantly clear what he wanted.

He'd left class when he saw Caleb leaning against the wall. He sighed deeply and stared at him a moment before he shook his head.

"Caleb, how many times must I turn you down? I've already explained, this has nothing to do with you, your attractiveness, or sexuality. I simply have no interest in romantic partners, I'm unsure how many ways to put this…" Sherlock paused, because it was obvious something was different about Caleb.

A second later he was slammed into the wall hard enough to steal his breath. He gasped at the body pressing up against him, and his books fell to the floor as he blinked in shock. Caleb leaned into him, forcing his knee between the younger boy's thighs and rubbing an obvious erection against Sherlock's thigh as he nudged his knee into Sherlock's crotch. Of course, from Sherlock, there was no reaction. He wasn't the slightest bit interested in Caleb. He put both hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him back, but Caleb was stronger, and had the advantage of nearly a hundred pounds and several inches, not to mention at least six years or more, on the smaller boy.

"Sherlock, no one tells me now. No one. Not you in your snotty little freakish way, no one. I will have you, I will fuck you until you are screaming my name, and you will fuckin' love it because a freak like you is never going to have anyone else willing to do it. Now, it would be much easier if you just gave in and showed up at my dorm tonight, and we'll take care of matters, and then, you'll be mine because when I'm done with you, no one will ever want you again, so I'm all that there is for you," he said, almost growling the words into his ear. "I will have the most exotic and beautiful prize of them all, Sherlock, and you will enjoy it…"

Sherlock heard the door open and suddenly he could breathe again. He blinked and thought he heard someone, but his heart was beating rapidly and blood was rushing in his ears so loud he really couldn't hear. He blinked and looked up to see Professor Brathas standing there with a worried expression. Sherlock shook his head and swallowed thickly, kneeling and picking up his books.

"Fine, fine," he said quickly, starting to leave, but Brathas put a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around.

"What was that about?" he asked, frowning deeply.

Sherlock flushed a bit, stomach twisting. "Um, Caleb seems to want a relationship that I'm uninterested in…he was making his point clear as to his interest…I told him I wasn't interested, but he has a hard time with no, it seems. I've…I've got to go. See you Monday, professor," he said and headed off, nearly running into the wall as he stumbled.

Of course, Dr. Brathas was one of the older professors in the school, and had immediately gone to the Dean with his worries about what he'd witnessed. He'd taught both Holmes boys, and while the younger was less adept at navigating social situations, neither was agitated easily.

"Enter," Dr. James Kirkwood said with a sigh, looking up as his philosophy professor, Dr. Terrance Brathas, came in.

"James, can I have a minute?" he asked slowly.

James nodded and motioned to sit down as he stood to get his electric kettle. "Tea?"

"Yes, please, thank you."

"What brings you in, Terry?" James asked a moment later, sitting a steaming cup of Earl Gray with two sugars and cream in front of one of his oldest friends.

"I just witnessed a distressing altercation between one of my first year students and an upperclassman. I thought it best to inform you," he said slowly.

James sipped his tea. "You know how boys are, Terry, if we worried over every incident in the hallways…"

Terry shook his head. "Not that kind of altercation. You know Caleb Macavoy and his reputation, he was the elder student involved."

James sat down his cup. "Yes, he has a reputation as an excellent footballer, but has a penchant for short romantic flings with underclassmen. Generally, most problems with him comes from his dumping of said flings."

"Yes, well, his choice in pursuit is Sherlock Holmes, who is definitely not receptive to his advances. After class I heard Mr. Holmes outside the classroom point blankly telling him that he was not interested in going anywhere with him for any reason. I heard a rather loud thump so I took a look and found Mr. Macavoy had slammed the Holmes boy into wall and was practically frotting against him in the hallway. He was talking to him and I swear the Holmes boy looked like a rabbit caught in a trap, whatever he said to him. He moved back as soon as I pushed the door open, as I'd been watching through the crevice, and left. I asked Sherlock if he was okay, and he was visibly shaken. It took him a good five minutes to collect himself before he told me he was fine and that Caleb was insistent on a relationship he wasn't interested in. I've never see the Holmes boy like that, James. He looked frightened. And he generally has little to no emotion on his face, so I have to wonder how long this has been going on," Terry said, taking a long drink of his rapidly cooling tea. "I've taught both boys. And I've never seen either of them react to someone like that."

"Didn't he just turn sixteen?" James asked, reaching behind him for a file he often referenced. One has to keep information on boys like Sherlock Holmes quickly at hand.

"He did, January sixth, if I remember correctly," Terry said. It was easy to remember the birthday of the youngest student you'd ever taught at the university level.

James nodded. "I'll inform the others, as well as his resident at the dorms. We should keep an eye on the situation to ensure it doesn't get out of hand. The last thing we need is some sort of scandal because of one young man's inability to keep his cock in check."

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

Sherlock yawned. He'd finished all his weekend work, and now the rest of it could be occupied with his own pursuits, perhaps a few experiments in the chem lab and work on his violin. He'd been working on a couple complicated concertos for Mycroft. He did like the complex ones. Thankfully, Caleb hadn't shown up. He was greatful. Another confrontation with him in the same day was really too much for him. Especially after the incident in the hallway. He really hadn't been that shaken by something before. He shook his head and walked out. The library was closing so it wasn't like he had much choice. However, sitting on the bench outside the doorway was Caleb. Sherlock groaned, turning to walk away.

Caleb was fast though and c aught him by the arm. "Now, don't run off! I just want to talk!" he said smiling.

Sherlock turned around and shook his head, holding his books to his chest. "Caleb, please, this is just not going to happen, I don't know why you keep at this!" he pulled away and started walking away, only to be yanked around again.

"Why? Why don't you want me like everyone else? No one turns me down, no one, Sherlock. I've never had this much trouble getting someone into my bed. What is it about me that you don't like?" he said, narrowing his eyes and Sherlock felt the anger rolling off him, and a pang of fear shot through his stomach.

He cleared his throat. "Caleb, it isn't you! I just don't find anyone interesting in that way! I'm sorry, but that's the way it is! It won't change, no matter how much you pursue me, beg me, I'm not going to agree to even date you, let alone sleep with you!"

"So that's it? You're telling me no chance you'll change your mind?" Caleb said, nodding and stepping back.

Sherlock was briefly relieved. He finally got it. "No, I won't change my mind."

"Sorry, then, but I get what I want, no matter how I have to do it," he said and smiled a wicked smile. Sherlock frowned deeply and then he heard a rustle behind him. He turned, but too late there was a shock of pain in his head and the world faded to gray then black.