Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock and this is a figment of my imagination.

Notes: Please read and review, I really want to hear your comments! Also, this story is set when Sherlock is 17 years old and is just in his first year of college. I actually love this idea a lot and I have plans for this omg *rubs hands together while laughing like a maniac*


Sherlock Holmes walked through the corridors of his new boarding school, holding his head up high.

Yes, he may be new and not know anyone, but he wasn't going to act all shy and confused.

Of course, he's just a college freshman, but no one has to know that. They couldn't tell by just looking at him.

Compared to all the new coming freshmen who were currently running around campus, confused and lost, Sherlock walked tall and proud through the hallways. He had woken up around 4 A.M and had gotten familiar with his surroundings. He knows were all his classes were, he knows which building his dorm is in and he knows the location of basic facilities such as the cafeteria, the main hall and the auditorium.

There was about 10 more minutes until the first bell rang for class, so he sat down on a chair outside on the Senior lawn. The weather was warm and quite sunny for a September morning and he feels like the fresh air will do him so good.

Yes, the great Sherlock Holmes was nervous.

He's always wanted to go to college but he never knew it would be this scary. Well, it's not that scary but there's just something about being inside a huge building with hundreds of other people that are doing the same thing and studying at the same time. Plus, he doesn't know anyone and he feels like he's going to be alone...again.

But he doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be friendless and lonely for the next few years of college, much like he was in high school.

Except high school was bad. Really really bad. He got bullied, beaten by his peers for being a 'freak' and a 'nerd'. He didn't fight back at first, but on the last day of senior year, he cracked.

He beat those bullies. He beat them real good, and walked away with nothing but a few bruises and and a black eye. All the anger, all the pain and suffering he had endured since freshman year was all brought out when he finally got them back.

When mummy and Mycroft found out, they were more than appalled. Sherlock got a very long speech about how 'he was better than this' and that 'doing that to them made him no better'. He didn't care, frankly.

They didn't know about the teasing and cruelty he endured at school. Partly for being gay.

Sherlock had figured he was probably gay during his freshman year. Well, gay or at least bi. He started questioning himself after a little 'incident' with one of the boys in the upper-classes, James.

Sherlock had been in the loo, washing his hands and about to walk out when he turned around and bumped into James. The action caused him to trip and fall backwards towards the wall, his head and back hitting the one of the bathroom stalls.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed rudely, the back of his head already throbbing with pain. He touched it and hissed, drawing his hands back.

"I'm-I'm sorry," James sputtered out, apologizing quickly."Didn't see you there, Sherlock."

He was standing pretty close to Sherlock, his face mere inches away from the young detective. There was silence for a while and heavy breathing from both boys.

Sherlock's mind was screaming, begging him to push the older boy off. But his body stayed put, his legs transfixed on the same spot. His breathing was uneven and heavy, and James eyes stared into his own.

Suddenly, there was a clash of lips and skin and the other boy's lips were on his own. James' lips were warm and moist and he kissed Sherlock gently, yet there was a hint of emotions and angst.

Sherlock was numb and against his mind's will, his lips parted open, giving James entrance. After a while the boy's mouth left Sherlock's lips and traveled down his neck, kissing softly and biting. Sherlock was scared...was this harassment? Was this consensual, did he want this?

Hell yes!

Did he like it? Yes. But this was wrong, it felt wrong, why was he kissing him?!

"...S-stop. Stop!" he finally managed to say, pushing the other off of him. As soon as James pulled away, the air around Sherlock was cold. He instantly regretted it and longed for James' warmth back.

James snapped out of it and his mouth hung open. "Oh my God. Oh my God, I'm so so so sorry Sherlock. I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you?"

"N-no. No you didn't."

James ran a hand through his hair and sighed loudly. "I'm really sorry. I'll just go now, okay?"

He walked out and left Sherlock by himself.

Sherlock turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled and his lips were swollen and pink. His neck was pink and red in some places and his eyes looked huge.

Hmm...Sherlock observed. Dilated pupils. Interesting.

After fixing his hair and securing his scarf closer around his neck to hide the hickeys, Sherlock walked out of the bathroom. He didn't really see much of James after that. He graduated a year after, leaving for the U.S to study abroad. Since that day, he's been questioning his sexuality and his attraction to boys.

Well. Not boys in particular, just James.

Now that he was in college, Sherlock felt like he could be out. He wasn't going to take shit from anyone who tried to bully him. He made sure to go to a college that he was sure no one he knew would be attending. He was sure of it.

"Hey, is that the freak?!" a voice suddenly rang out. A group of three boys approached Sherlock and he sighed inwardly.

It was one of the boys who tormented him during his high school years; and apparently he had a few new friends. They got closer to Sherlock and stood in front of him.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked, taking out his phone. He pretended to be busy.

"Oh, so the freak has found his voice eh? Whatcha got there?" the bigger one said.

"It's obviously a phone, but you wouldn't know now would you? Seeing that you're so primitive." Sherlock answered, smirking.

"You think you're funny with all those big words you're using, eh freak? I still haven't forgotten what happened in high school you little bitch!"

"What?" Sherlock asked calmly. "That I beat you up last day of senior year?"

The two other boys started snickering, and Sherlock smirked again to see the bully blush with fury.

"You didn't beat me up, I did! You couldn't fight for shit."

"Au contraire," Sherlock started typing away on his phone. "I'm afraid I don't like to fight for excrement. That's something I'd rather leave in the loo, thank you very much."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" the burly guy asked, his nostrils flaring.

Sherlock looked up and tsked. "Wonder how they let you in college, Jeremy."

Jeremy crossed his arms. "You know what? You probably came here wanting to get away from what happened in high school, didn't you? How about I help you, hmm? I'll just go and tell everyone that you're gay."

"I'm flattered by all your attention Jeremy, but I'm afraid I'm just not attracted to you. But thanks for the chocolates and flowers, how did you know I like roses?"

Jeremy's face turned red and he fumed when he heard his friends laugh. "You know what?! Fuck you!"

Sherlock locked his phone and looked up. "I'm sure you'd like to."

He smiled, waved and walked away, the laughter and cackling fading as he walked further.

He felt like he handled that nicely.


When the first bell had rung, Sherlock was already seated inside the classroom along with other early birds. He had time to study who he was sitting next to; a girl on his left and a boy on his right.

The girl was short and had long blonde hair. She was wearing minimal makeup, jeans and a blue shirt and had a notebook already opened on her desk. She was scrolling down her phone. She looked alright. Probably 18…diabetic? Her eyes were a little sunken in her face. She probably had a chronic illness. Quiet, introverted, straight A student.

The boy on his right was sitting back in his chair, a jacket on his face. He seemed to have fallen asleep.

The class slowly started to fill up with students and Sherlock was relieved to see that none of his past 'buddies' were in his class.

The teacher suddenly barged in the room, apologizing for his lateness. He closed the door behind him and set his briefcase down and turned to the class.

"Good morning students," he said with a rich voice. "My name is John Watson, but you may call me John. Or Watson, Dr. Watson, whatever you prefer. I'll be your—yes, you in the back?"

A mousey girl stood up and winked at the teacher. "May I call you Dr. Hot stuff? 'Cause you sure are stunning."

There was a mumble of agreements and Dr. Watson smiled softly.

"If that's what you want to call me, have fun with that. But you all must call me Mr. or Dr. Watson outside of the classroom, alright?"

The class nodded.

"Good then. As I was saying before, I'm going to be your anatomy and biology teacher this year. I hope to make the best of your freshman year and I'll try my best to be a good teacher to you. This is my third year teaching at this college and I congratulate you on being accepted into this really good school. Today, I'll be assigning books and I'd like to get to know all of you and your names. Sound alright?"

"Yes," the class said in union.

"I'll be passing around an attendance sheet for this first day of school to make sure all of you are here and not skipping class. Trust me, I will find out if you skip. You'll be expected to be here every day of class, unless you have a valid reason."

The class nodded again and Dr. Watson smiled.

"I'm glad we're on the same page then. I'll be calling out your full name, so please say 'here' so I can hand you your books."

He walked over to his desk and sat down. He began calling names out alphabetically and people stood up, ready to get their textbooks and lab materials.

Sherlock sat back in his chair and stared.

He stopped listening after the teacher introduced himself.

Dr. Watson was tanned and had blond sandy hair. He wasn't tall but wasn't short either, and he had amazing eyes and a strong structured face. He was wearing jeans and a normal button down shirt, but to Sherlock he didn't look plain.

He looked handsome. Amazing, classy, well presented. Stunning, attractive.

Beautiful.

And he couldn't help staring.

"Sherlock Holmes?" Dr. Watson called out. "Is there a Sherlock Holmes in this class?"

Sherlock snapped out of it and stood up, walking towards the desk. He felt himself blush and he kept his eyes down, trying to make himself small and unnoticeable.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think you weren't here." He joked, smiling at Sherlock.

Sherlock gulped and nodded quickly, glancing away. He could feel Dr. Watson's eyes linger on him a little too long and he was handed a textbook.

"Here's your textbook, don't lose it, you've payed for it already." The teacher said. "And here are this week's lab materials."

Sherlock took his things and mumbled a quick 'thank you' and walked away. He still felt the teacher's eyes on his back and his neck turned pink.

He sat down at his desk and looked down at his shoes, and bit his lips nervously. Why does this always happen to him?

When Dr. Watson finished handing out materials, he cleared his throat and said to the class, "Alright, please turn to page 394 in your textbooks."


TO BE CONTINUED! Please comment! :)