"Switzerland" a voice boomed from the empty, narrow corridor, the stocky figure of Ben Hunter came into view as ran down said corridor, pushing books off as he did so a piece of paper clutched in his hand. "Please tell me you're going?" he asked practically jumping with excitement." John looked up from the book he was reading an annoyed expression on his face. "This is a library Mr Hunter keep your voice down" the librarian called from behind a mountain of Dickens books. Ben lifted his hand up in apology and sat opposite John.
"Switzerland?" John asked bookmarking the page he was in the process of reading. "Trip" Ben replied taking his wet, khaki green coat off, chucking it aside. John stretched his arms grunting as he did so. "Something to do with physics, but not all of the students are going they've opened it to biology, chemistry and medical students, they need numbers" Ben informed his friend. "I got you a letter" Ben said taking two drenched, smudged letters out and placing them on the table. "Thanks Ben" John said taking them.
"There's a trip to Switzerland, to see CERN, do you fancy going?" John asked as he walked into his room "and do you have a hair dryer?" John asked trying to dry the wet letters with his jumper. Sat at the far end of the room was Sherlock Holmes his dark, curly hair visible from behind stacks and stacks of books. "A trip? And no I don't own a hairdryer John, we've lived together now for a year now surely you must have realised I don't own such thing" his cool voice sent shivers down Johns spine. John smiled and handed the letter to his roommate. "Next month?" Sherlock said surprised, John shrugged and collapsed onto his bed; Sherlock placed his hands together and rested his chin on them. "Are you going John?" Sherlock asked leaving his seat behind the desk and walking the length of the room. John watched Sherlock as he did so; gosh his legs go on forever John thought before diverting his eyes. "yes, well I'd like too, I never went on many trips when I was in secondary school, my parents could never afford it but now I'm in a good university, got myself a job and if I don't spend money on shit I could afford to go" John sat up slightly looking at Sherlock who was now sat in an arm chair. "How about you...please come it'll be fun" John asked the words rolled out of his mouth, they sounded more like a plea than a suggestion. Sherlock cocked his head to the side, his face blank he didn't answer immediately but when he did john was surprised by the answer "okay, I will"
John Hamish Watson was described as a sweet, kind, quiet boy, not from a rich family very headstrong ambitious and patient a perfect doctor. Everyone was surprised when he was accepted into Kings College to study medicine everyone was shocked, everyone apart from John who had worked so hard to get where he was, he deserved to get every successes . He had been at Kings now a full year and had just started his second, though he worked hard he found the course difficult, he had made wonderful friends, enjoyed day trips away and one thing you ought to know about John Watson, he is head over heels in love with his roommate Sherlock Holmes.
The room was full of boxes containing clothes, books, shoes and god knows what else. Holmes and Watson were in the process of moving from the dormitories and into a flat. John had tripped over many boxes during the day and many more in the evenings. Sherlock and John with the help of Mycroft had purchased a small flat not far from the university, but far enough to call it their own. Most of their belongings had already been moved but there were still objects yet to be dispatched. They had been back in university now for three months; John had spent his summer with his parents and had spent a lot of time with Sherlock visits to the beach, museums and endless trips to the cinema.
"What room do you want?" Sherlock asked his head just visible behind a brown box. John sighed it was going to be strange and sad not seeing Sherlock sleeping. The way his chest rose and fell, the way his body always ended up tangled in the bed sheets. John shrugged "I'll take the far room" he said pointing, pulling his rucksack behind as he trudged into the room. It was lovely, very spacious, there were long red curtains pulled aside showing a bay window, there was an oak wooden desk that matched the wardrobe and a large double bed dressed in red matching the curtains. One thing that wasn't in the room was an en-suite but you can't have everything. The flat was far more than what Mycroft Had described it as it was much more than just "satisfactory" there was a big living room come dining room, a nice bathroom and all the supplies one could need. Sherlock's room was the exact same as Johns apart from the fact his was dressed in royal blue instead of red.
Later on that week John walked from the lecture room and into the library where he was sure to find his roommate mulling over a book about forensics. Johns second lecture that day had been cancelled due to Dr Robinson falling ill, which everyone (apart from John) found hilarious, due to the fact he was a doctor. Much to johns disappointment he couldn't find Sherlock anywhere in the library, but just as he was about to walk out of the library the familiar figure of Sherlock Holmes appeared out of the blue.
"There you are" John said sounding relieved, Sherlock looked down at his friend
"You were looking for me?" Sherlock asked, John nodded and dragged his friend over to an unoccupied table, away from prying eyes. "Dr Robinson's not going to be in for at least another fortnight" Sherlock explained as he took a seat, peeling his long black coat off and discarding his signature blue scarf. John just smiled he had began just accepting Sherlock's deductions instead of asking how he came to that conclusion. "Why were you looking for me?" Sherlock asked pulling out a few books. John blushed slightly before saying "we're studying pathology and Dr Hammond is ummmm well he talks so fast" John blurted out, Sherlock looked at him blankly "I need your help, you are a genius you must be able to explain this to me In simple terms" John carried on, he looked up at Sherlock who was blushing slightly. "I'm not a genius John" Sherlock mumbled taking the text book off John, flicking through it, their hands brushed slightly as Sherlock claimed the book, it sent a bolt of electricity through John, his heart was pounding against his chest, his temperature rapidly increased as he tried to recover from the brief contact, Sherlock didn't even seem to have noticed. "you're a genius to me" John replied quietly. For the rest of the day and night Sherlock explained to John all about pathology.