A/N: Sherlock, John and Greg are studying at college in this story. Sherlock is studying chemistry and Criminology, John is studying to be a doctor, and Greg is studying Criminology. John and Sherlock share a room and Greg is their other best friend. Greg broke off with his girlfriend of four years, a few months earlier. Sherlock is absolutely in love with him. Sherlock refuses to call Greg by his first name though, trying to separate his feelings for the man with his friendship for him, especially because they help each other out in their studies.
Sherlock hated grocery shopping. Normally he would have ignored the empty fridge and the empty cupboards until John got fed up enough to buy the groceries himself, but today he had an idea for an experiment that needed butter and flour and when he had texted John to bring it over straight away, he had gotten a text back that simply said "No.". As did the other seven texts he got back when he had asked in a different manner each time. He had even tried calling, which John had ignored. Sherlock grumbled a bit, weighing the two sticks of butter in his hand, John knew that he preferred texting, he should have answered the phone.
Still hesitating over which kind of butter would be better for his experiment, he saw a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced to see what it was and saw Lestrade standing in the aisle, with his back to Sherlock, talking to an attractive girl. He had a shopping basket in the crook of his elbow and his other hand was gesturing wildly while he was arguing with the woman. Sherlock quickly deduced that the girl was telling him off for the doughnuts that Lestrade had in his shopping basket.
Sherlock suddenly felt as if he had been punched in the stomach when he figured out that the girl telling Lestrade off for his eating habits, meant that she was his significant other. Sherlock put the butter back where he had taken it and left quickly, not wanting to be seen by Lestrade and having to endure being introduced to the girl. He silently berated himself for not deducing that Lestrade had started dating again. He knew Lestrade would have started dating again eventually. His ex-girlfriend had done a number on him, by betraying his trust like that, but Lestrade was a very attractive man, and he never lacked both female and male attention. Especially when they figured out that Lestrade was also smart and friendly to complete the picture.
Sherlock just hadn't expected it so soon, and he had thought he'd deduce it before having to see it. He knew he didn't stand a chance with the other man, but that still didn't mean that he had to like the fact.
The next day, Sherlock was helping Dimmock with a task their professors had set, when Lestrade knocked on Dimmock's door.
"Hey, sorry to interrupt." Lestrade said, leaning into the office with one hand on the doorknob and the other against the doorpost to balance himself. "Could I borrow Sherlock for a minute, Dimmock? I'd like to introduce him to my..."
Sherlock interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. "No. No time, Lestrade. We're studying!" Dimmock looked at him strangely.
"I can spare you..." Dimmock started to say before Sherlock interrupted him also.
"Studying, Dimmock. Or don't you want to fail this class?" Dimmock frowned but shook his head, shooting a look at Lestrade who frowned back.
"Alright then. I'll leave you to it." Lestrade said, still frowning slightly as he closed the door behind him.
Sherlock could feel his cheeks heating up when Dimmock continued looking at him with a thoughtful frown on his face. He refused to acknowledge Dimmock though, instead concentrating on the papers spread out on the desk in front of him.
Later that day, Sherlock was just entering the main building of the school, when he spotted Lestrade and the girl speaking one of Lestrade's friends. He eyed them for a minute, wondering if he should just get it over with. He knew he wouldn't be able to put it off for much longer if Lestrade was this serious about this girl. He had never before brought a woman to school, not even with his last girlfriend. But Sherlock just couldn't stomach it.
So he turned on his heels, planning on going home so he could go into his mind palace to delete that he ever was in love with the other student, even though he knew that it would be futile. He had tried to before, but it had never quite worked. The only way to fully delete it, was to delete Lestrade entirely from his mind, and to do that, he had to quit studying with him and quit his Criminology studies altogether. But that wasn't an option if he wanted to stay of the drugs.
Just before he left the building though, he glanced one last time over his shoulder to look at the other man. His stomach dropped when he saw Lestrade laugh heartily at something the girl said to him, knowing that he'd never be able to make Lestrade laugh like that himself. So he turned away again and strode out of the building, determined to delete his feelings from his mind palace once and for all.
What he didn't see however, was that the girl in question had seen him leaving the building, and pointing it out to Lestrade.
For the next few days, whenever Sherlock saw Lestrade, thankfully without the girl, he either fled away or pretended to be busy with whatever he was doing at the moment. And when Lestrade called or texted, he ignored it.
He was bored though, and he figured he'd have to learn how to ignore his feelings if he wanted to study with Lestrade again. Studying with Dimmock had been hell, but they had gotten top grades for the task. Even with Dimmock being dimwitted and unable to follow instructions.
Sherlock needed Lestrade. For studying.
He huffed and pulled his bathrobe tighter around himself, sulking on his bed. He didn't want to need Lestrade. Not for studying, or anything else. But the fact was that Lestrade was the only one at the whole school able to keep up with him, to think with him, even if he was sometimes a bit slow. Lestrade was smart, almost as smart as Sherlock, and they often needed just a few words between them to know what the other was thinking. Lestrade was also the only person that had never given up on him when he had been using. He had searched for Sherlock often, whenever he had a relapse and he had ultimately helped Sherlock get clean.
Fact is, if he wouldn't be able to get over his feelings for the man, he'd most probably relapse again. And Sherlock resented that fact. He didn't want to need anyone or anything, he wanted to be independent. To let the cold hard facts of the world lead his minds, stimulate it, but no, he just had to have these pesky feelings.
He sighed again, and just at that moment, John entered their room.
"God damn it Sherlock!" John said, clearly frustrated. "Have you not moved a single inch the whole time I was out with Greg?"
"Who's Greg?" Sherlock asked, knowing full well who Greg was, but he liked to rile John up, and since it was the only relieve from boredom he could get at the moment, he turned to face the man, so he could see the annoyed expression on his face.
"Oh, you know." John said, glaring at him. "The man you've been ignoring the last few days for no particular reason." Sherlock frowned. He hadn't been that obvious about it, there was no way that John could have picked up on that fact. Unless...
"Oh, so you do know what I'm talking about." John said annoyed, correctly interpreting his expression.
"You want to explain yourself then?" Sherlock got up, to try and leave for the bathroom, at the end of the hallway, but John stepped into his path.
"Oh no, you don't." Slightly pushing Sherlock, until he fell back on his bed, John sat down on his own.
"Talk." It wasn't a request.
Sherlock ignored it.
"Sherlock. You better start talking now, or so help me God..." Sherlock turned his head, facing away from the fuming man seated opposite of him.
John let out an exasperated sight, even throwing his hands in the air.
"Sherlock, for God's sake! All the man wants to do, is introduce you to his sister, and you are treating them like they have the plague or something." Sherlocks mouth fell open.
"His sister?" He couldn't help but ask, trying to stomp down on the slightly hopeful feeling building in his chest.
"Yeah, his sister." John said. "Well, technically, his stepsister, but yes. Who did you think she was?" Sherlock blushed and Johns eyebrows shot up into his hairline.
Again, Sherlock refused to answer.
"Oh my God!" John exclaimed suddenly, realisation slowly crossing over his face. "Oh my God!" He exclaimed again. "You thought they were dating."
Sherlock nodded sheepishly.
"Oh my God!" John couldn't help but say again, coming to another realisation. A grin slowly formed on his face, and Sherlock flinched, sure that John would start laughing at how pathetic he was being.
"You're in love with him!" John exclaimed with a wide grin on his face. "This is perfect!" Sherlock flinched again.
"Perfect?" He asked in a small voice.
"Well yeah! The man's been in love with you for ages. Why do you think he broke up with Eileen?"
"Because she cheated on him?" Sherlock said with an eyebrow raised, stomping down even harder on the hopeful feeling in his chest.
"Well yeah. That too, but also because he's in love with you." John tilted his head a little, considering something.
"You have to tell him how you feel." He said. "But please leave a sock on the door or something when you do, so I can stay over at Mary's place. Because, you're both my best friends, but I do not ever want to see you at it!" Sherlock flushed beet-red.
"John." He whined.
"You're not going to tell him are you?" John asked in a sympathetic voice, and Sherlock shook his head. John groaned.
"My God, you were made for each other. Fine, then I'll tell him."
"NO!" Sherlock yelled. "John, you can't tell him!" The warm hopeful feeling in his chest disappeared as his stomach dropped.
John just smirked at him and left their room.
An hour later, Sherlock was still contemplating what would be the best way to disappear and never having to face Lestrade rejecting him, when a soft knock sounded on their door, before Lestrade came in. Sherlock sat up on his bed.
"Hi." He said with a soft smile and Sherlock blushed, never having seen that particular smile on Lestrade's face. The hopeful feeling in his chest came back with a vengeance.
"Hi." Sherlock answered, biting his bottom lip slightly. Lestrade's gaze following the movement before looking up into Sherlocks eyes again, a soft blush rising on his own cheeks.
"Hi." Lestrade said again, before wincing. Sherlock could almost see Lestrade berating himself for repeating himself.
"So, I assume, you talked to John." Sherlock said, drawing his knees up to his chest.
Lestrade nodded, his blush intensifying. He sat down next to Sherlock, his body angled so he could still watch the other student.
"Did he tell the truth?" He asked in a small voice.
Sherlock buried his head between his knees and nodded.
"Sherlock." Sherlock refused to look up though, he didn't want to face the rejection that was surely coming.
"Sherlock, look at me." Sherlock shook his head, and Lestrade laughed softly, before brushing his fingers through Sherlocks curls.
"Please, Sherlock?" At this, Sherlock lifted his head a little, just enough so he could look at Lestrade, who smiled at him. Sherlocks stomach somersaulted at that.
"I'm in love with you too." Lestrade, no Greg, said, still carding his fingers through Sherlocks hair.
"Yeah?" Sherlock said, a shy grin starting on his face.
"Yeah." Greg answered, an equally shy grin on his own face.
Sherlock let go of his legs then, even though he didn't know what to do with them, but the relief coursing through his body, made him to giddy to stay locked up in the defensive position. He angled his body towards Greg and saw Greg's eyes flickering to his lips, before looking into his eyes again.
Sherlock leaned forward a bit, pressing his leg against one of Greg's, his gaze dropped down to Greg's lips then, and he couldn't help but lick his own. Greg's breath hitched then and Sherlock looked up, surprised. They were so close to each other that Sherlock could feel Greg's breath on his lips.
"Can I kiss you, Sherlock?" Greg asked in a whisper. Sherlock didn't answer though, he just closed the gap between their lips himself. Not knowing what to do, when they were pressed against Greg's, he panicked slightly, until Greg pressed back. His eyes fluttered closed and he moaned softly.
The kiss was perfect, and everything Sherlock had ever hoped his first kiss would be.