When John found his boyfriend sitting on the floor of their dorm room crying, he knew something was really wrong. Sherlock never cried, he had known the boy for seven years and the only time he cried was when his dog had to be put down.

So when he saw Sherlock curled up against the wall, face buried in his knees, he felt his heart fall and felt the need to hurt the person that did this. John moved over to him swiftly and dropped to his knees beside him. "Sherlock, what's wrong?" he asked, gently rubbing his back. "Who do I have to kill today?"

Sherlock sniffed, lifting his head up from his knees and wiping his face. "N-no one," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

John took in a sharp breath when he saw the bruises that were scattered across his boyfriend's face. "Who did this to you Sherlock?" he asked through clenched teeth. "I want to know who so I can strangle them."

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and shook his head. "No, please," he said softly. If John found the person who did this they would tell him why they did it and then his secret would be out. John would hate him. "I can't let you find out. Please just leave it be."

John frowned, squeezing his hand gently. "Fine," he said quietly, shifting a bit so he was sitting next to him. "Why can't I find out?" He wound an arm around him, being careful of any injuries that might be covered by his clothes. He always thought that the two of them could be open with each other and for the most part they were. Sherlock never hid things from him that was for sure.

Sherlock shook his head again, wiping the tears from his face once more. "Because then you would hate me," he stuttered, holding onto his hand tightly. "You would certainly leave me or even beat me like the other guys did."

"Sherlock Holmes, I could never do anything like that to you and you know it," John said in a hurt tone. "I could never hurt you and the thought of you thinking that makes me feel sick."

Sherlock looked down again, watching as tears fell to his shirt. "I can't tell you," he said once again, this time in a weaker tone. He shook his head. "I just can't tell you."

John sighed and pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head. "The first time I asked a girl out it was over text and I peed my pants," he told him. It was something no one ever knew about and he thought it would help Sherlock tell his secret.

"That won't work John," Sherlock mumbled. "And that's disgusting."

John sighed. "The first time I tried to kiss a guy I accidently broke his nose because I accidentally head-butted him."

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh a little at that one. "Those aren't the biggest secrets you have John, this is a big one for me."

John smiled when Sherlock laughed. He was breaking through. "Fine, want my big secret?" he asked. "My middle name is…Hamish." He shook his head and made a gagging noise. "God, I hate that name so much."

Sherlock looked up at him with eyebrows raised. "Hamish? Really?" he asked in disbelief. "I can see why you would hate it so much."

"So…"John prompted, trying to get Sherlock's big secret out of him. "I told you three secrets, surely you can tell me one. Especially if it made you end up like this."

Sherlock sighed and let go of his hand, moving away from him slightly. "I like to wear dresses and skirts, and other woman's clothing," he muttered. "Sometimes, not all the times, just when I feel like I…need to."

John stared at him for a few seconds before grabbing his hand again and pulling him closer. He hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.

Sherlock flinched when John grabbed his hand, expecting him to attack, but instead he was met with a warm embrace and a soft kiss. "You're not mad or anything like that?"

"Sherlock bloody Holmes, why would I be mad at you for something like that?" John asked, holding him tightly. "I don't care what you wear, no one should hurt you because of it."

Sherlock looked up at him with wide eyes. "Are you really okay with it?" he asked. "Especially since I hid it from you."

"I can understand why you hid it, but I'm fine with it," John said, gently rubbing his side. "So, who beat you up?"

Sherlock sighed and rested his head on John's shoulder. "Stephen and his small group of friends," he mumbled. "I was at the mall the other day looking at a few clothes and tried them on and they saw me."

John nodded, clenching his free hand into a fist. "I'll go teach that guy a lesson then," he growled, going to stand up only to be held down by Sherlock.

"No, not just yet," Sherlock whispered, holding him close. "I need you right now."

John nodded and kissed his head again. "Okay," he murmured. "What did he say to you?"

Sherlock shook his head. "He called me a weak girl," he shrugged. "I don't think he understands that I am a male. Just because I like wearing woman's clothing and feel comfortable in them doesn't mean I'm a girl."

John nodded. "Of course not," he said. "I'll make sure he knows that." He kissed his head again. "So, can I um….see you in these new clothes of yours?"

Sherlock looked up at before letting out a small laugh. "Do you really want to open that door?" he asked.

"Hey, we all have to open a door at some point," John shrugged. "If we didn't guess where I would still be?"

"The closet," Sherlock laughed as he stood up, shaking a bit as he moved. "Which is where I'm going."

John chuckled softly and leaned back against the wall, watching him with an amused smile. He was also making sure he didn't have any other injuries. "I also wouldn't be able to stare at your perfect bottom."

Sherlock blushed as he opened the door to his closet and turned on the light. "I'll be right out," he said before shutting the door.

John grinned, noticing the red that now painted Sherlock's ears and neck. He licked his lips and watched the door, waiting patiently for it to open again.

After ten minutes Sherlock finally emerged from the closet, smiling shyly at John. He was wearing a red dress that stopped mid-thigh. "So, um, what do you think?" he asked nervously.

John stared at him, looking him up and down. How has he never noticed how long Sherlock's legs really were? He let out a small breath and looked up at his face. "You look….wow."

"I know it's not much, I didn't try to go all out with it," Sherlock said. "Usually I wear heels, and have a bit of makeup on."

John nodded and stood up. "No, you do look great," he admitted. "Especially your legs. They go on for miles don't they?" He ran his fingers over his shoulders before kissing one of them. "This is nice."

Sherlock smiled softly. "Do you really think so?" he asked, looking at his dress. "This one is my favorites. When I go and hang out with Molly, I like to wear it."

John nodded. "Do you wear them often?" he asked, kissing him gently. "I wouldn't mind, just wondering."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, only when I go out or when I just feel the need to be free I guess," he chuckled softly. "It's rather comfortable."

John nodded. "I would assume so," he said. "It's probably breezy down there."

Sherlock laughed and nodded. "It does get breezy," he chuckled. He looked down at John. "I love you."

John grinned. "I love you too," he said. He ran his fingers over the dress, looking him over again. "I think I have an idea."

"Yeah? What is that idea?" Sherlock asked.

John grinned and kissed him once more. "I need some cash," he said.

X

A few days later John was standing in his bedroom with Gregory Lestrade, his and Sherlock's friend. "So, are you sure those other guys will come with us?" he asked as he started to take off his shirt.

"Yeah, they're on their way now," Greg assured him as he began undressing as well.

Three other guys from the rugby team were supposed to be coming over to help John with this, but he wasn't sure if they really were.

"Are you sure they're on their way?" John asked.

"Yes John," Greg laughed, throwing his shoe at him. "Calm down. We will do this."

John sighed and nodded. "It's…I want to do this for Sherlock." There was a knock on the door and his head snapped towards it. "They're here."

Greg opened the door and let Ben, Tony, and Smith in. "Hey guys, got what you need?" he asked.

Tony nodded. "My mum was asking a lot of questions but I got it," he laughed. "I didn't think I would get pass her with all this."

Greg patted his back. "John bought me mine," he said with a laugh. "So, everyone get dressed." They nodded and started changing.

X

John and the four other teens were marching across the quad, head held high as they made their way towards Stephen. All of them were wearing skirts or dresses. John was wearing a skirt he got from Sherlock's closet with his rugby jersey on.

He decided to stand up against Stephen in a less violent way. The five of them stopped in front of Stephen and his group, John crossing his arms over his chest. "Hey," he said with a smile. "I heard you had a problem with guys wearing woman's clothing."

Stephen looked up at them before laughing a bit. "You can't be serious," he huffed. "Did your girlfriend make you do this?"

John clenched his hands into fists and Greg grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "No, Sherlock didn't send up, in fact, he doesn't even know we're here," he hummed. "We're here to take a stand against what you did to him just because he's different."

"Listen, you're all just doing this because you want to keep your spot on the rugby team and you're just doing this because you're sleeping with the freak," Stephen said. "So just leave me alone."

Greg looked to John, who looked back at him and the hand on the blonde's shoulder was gone. John lurched forward and punched Stephen in the face, unable to hold back anymore. "He is not a freak," he said over Stephen's now unconscious body.

The rest of Stephen's friends stood up. "Christ John, I didn't think I was going to have to fight in this," Ben muttered. "I wouldn't have worn the heels."

John laughed softly. "Use them to your advantage," he said, holding up his fists as the other guys rushed forward.

X

John was sitting back against the wall outside the nurse's office, holding the ice to his eye as he waited to be properly seen by the older woman. Everyone else but one person had been seen so John was alone. He heard rushed footsteps and looked up to see Sherlock standing above him. "Hey love," he grinned, his smile a bit bloody. "I took care of Stephen for you."

Sherlock shook his head and lifted him up by the collar. "You're a bloody idiot," he muttered before kissing him. He pulled away and shook his head. "Why are you wearing my skirt?"

"Me, Greg, and a few guys on the team decided to try and do a peaceful protest type thing," John muttered. "You should see them. They looked amazing."

"Peaceful protest thing?" Sherlock asked. "You're missing a tooth John."

"Stephen called you a freak and I lost it," John said. "You're not a freak. You're perfect. I wasn't looking for a fight."

Sherlock sighed and kissed him again. "You're perfect," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "You're so bloody perfect."

John smiled and pulled him close. "I would do anything for you Sherlock. I want you to know that. And that includes putting on a skirt and going to kick some butt."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and kissed him gently. Greg came out of the nurse's office and shook his head. "Your turn Miss Watson," he joked.

John turned and glared at him before Sherlock tapped his bottom. "Go get fixed up my knight in shining armor. I'll meet you in our room."

John flushed and turned into the office, hoping the nurse would be quick.