**I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters within it. Okay so this is my first Sherlock fic, it's an AU set during John's first year at Uni where he first meets Sherlock. Rated M for a reason! I will try to give warnings at the beginning of each chapter if anything particularly graphic is coming (i.e abuse, sex, torture, ect.) First chapter is relatively tame, with the exception of profanity and the alluding to M/M sex. Please review and enjoy!**
John yanked at the collar of his shirt for the ninth time that evening, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the tie wrapped snuggly around his neck.
"This is stupid," he muttered. "I already got in to this school, why do I have to attend this crap dressed like this? Who exactly am I supposed to be impressing?" He gave another sharp pull. "This is stupid."
"You already said that," Mike murmured softly next to him.
John's grumbles weren't meant as a true conversation starter but when his best friend of ten years didn't chide him for being an arse, John glanced over at him.
Mike had an odd look on his face that John couldn't quite decipher. His mouth was hanging open slightly and his eyes seemed to be glossed over. His brow was knitted together and he was staring. Staring at John.
"Mike?" he asked bemused, "You alright?"
Mike seemed to snap out of his haze at John's words, shaking his head once and tried to force a laugh, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Yeah. Yeah, fine. Why?"
John eyed him for a moment then scanned the crowd before them, watching as small groups of excited young adults chatted animatedly to each other, shaking hands and smiling.
John glowered at the enthusiasm.
"Dunno," he said irritably to his friend, "I'm bitching about being at this sodding party and you don't have a comment to make about how I need to cheer up and enjoy myself? That's been your anthem for the past week."
"Huh. Guess not," was Mike's only reply as he kicked at something imaginary on the carpet.
John glanced at him again but dropped the conversation, feeling his patience wearing thin. Mike had been pushy about attending this event, saying they needed to make new friends and have some fun. They only knew a handful of people in London, and Mike had decided he needed to blossom into the social butterfly of the city as he had been in high school. John was expected to participate in this as his sidekick.
John had fought tooth and nail to get out of it.
They'd moved to university together exactly seven days ago and were currently attending a soiree for all new students to meet and socialize. Some professors were also expected to be in attendance and the flyer they'd received had encouraged them to come with questions and topics to discuss with their new classmates and teachers, and to 'dress to impress.' Hence the noose around his neck.
John had not prepared any questions or topics.
John had barely agreed to put on the tie that was now trying to strangle him.
Because John had other things on his mind.
Under normal circumstances, this little gathering would have been quite nice. John would have put on his best smile, stuck out his hand willingly and had a laugh ready for any joke, good or bad. He would have been his pleasant, kind, borderline naïve self and been perfectly happy with that.
But tonight, John wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Tonight, for the last night before his long career as a doctor began, John wanted to sit in his room, indulge his pathetic feelings and sulk.
"Maybe we should get a drink?" Mike squeaked beside him, and again John became annoyed. His normally boisterous, friendly, loud, borderline obnoxious best friend was acting fucking bizarre.
"Mate, you were the one that wanted us to come to this fucking thing. Why aren't you out there, being ever so interesting and attracting the many friends you plan on obtaining for us?"
Mike looked a little stunned and John's irritation subsided to utter confusion.
"Seriously, Mike, what is your deal tonight? You're being so fucking weird."
Mike's eyes were the size of saucers now and John frowned. When he didn't respond, John shook his head. "Well, I suppose I will go grab that drink then." He started walking away and glancing around over the heads of the crowd for the bar. "Beat's standing around in awkward silence," he mumbled to himself.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he swiveled his head from side to side, trying to find the best way through the sea of people to get to the drinks on the other side of the room. He batted down the bubble of unreasonable annoyance at the situation. It wasn't like these people purposefully joined together to keep him from the bar but for some reason, that's exactly the way it felt. He glared at the room as a whole.
Clearly, John was in a very poor mood.
He closed his eyes for a moment; trying to breath past the irrational irritation he felt with essentially everyone he laid eyes on. It was no one's fault that his mind was begging to swallow him up into self-pity. Mike was only trying to help get his mind off what had happened.
John stifled a humorless laugh at that last thought. He absolutely could not classify what had happened as an event. Nothing had happened. That was the problem. Three long months and absolutely nothing had come of it.
John ran a hand down his face and opened his eyes again, determined to will himself into a better mood.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.
The first thing he saw were cheekbones. Razor-sharp, pale cheekbones that jutted out perfectly below silver eyes. Eyes like John had never seen before. Eyes that seemed to be scanning every thing, every person, every moment in the room and knowing. Knowing what exactly, John couldn't be sure. What he was sure about was those eyes knew everything there was to know about this room and everyone in it.
John bit the inside of his lip as his gaze traveled above those eyes to a mess of dark curls tumbling in waves across that equally pale forehead. Curls that looked soft and wild all at once. Curls that would feel so damn good running between fingers. The head those curls belonged to was draped back against the wall along with the slender, suit-clad back of the tall body, hands shoved into tailored pockets and legs crossed at the ankle. Bored. The position of an incredibly bored person.
John's body felt frozen in place as he took in every inch of what he was seeing, jaw slightly slack and vision blurring around the edges to focus in on this single, beautiful creature. John lost himself a little as his eyes landed on the stranger's lips, bowed perfectly in the center. John licked his lips subconsciously.
And then those all-knowing, all-seeing eyes landed on John. The gaze was excruciatingly searing, focused, boring into him with great intensity. John felt bare underneath those light eyes and he bit his bottom lip, debating if he was excited or terrified.
An entirely different scenario of being bare beneath those eyes jogged through his mind lazily and John ducked his head, unable to stop the shiver that ran down his body, and knowing this new, exotic stranger would see it. He couldn't control himself under that stare. He had to look away. He had to keep moving.
John's mouth had gone very dry. Suddenly, he needed that drink very badly.
He turned his back and crept around the outside of the crowd on the opposite side of the room from the dark figure he'd been staring at.
He practically fell against the wood of the bar as he arrived, steadying himself and, oh god, had he been panting? Like a bloody dog? He took a few deep breathes as though he'd just had the wind knocked out of him and tried to shake himself.
"Oi, mate, you alright?" A voice broke into his silent panic attack and John looked up to find the bartender looking at him with concern.
"Hm? Oh yes, fine…sorry…Thank you for asking. Just a little caught off guard is all…" John trailed off and looked around, still trying to gather his bearings. He glanced back up to find the bartender still looking at him.
"You sure? You look a little unsteady."
John took one deep breath, blowing it out slowly and shaking his head a bit. He blinked hard. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good," he repeated.
"Why don't you take a load off?" the bartender said, gesturing toward one of the stools.
John slumped into one of them mindlessly, his thoughts still reeling. Never had he seen someone who looked quite like that. Never had he seen someone so utterly beautiful.
Never had he reacted so strongly to a simple glance in his direction. It was humiliating. And enthralling. The emotional war going on inside him over a simple stare was completely ridiculous, and John internally scolded himself.
"So what'll it be?"
John glanced back up at the man behind the bar, having almost forgotten he was there. "Sorry, just, this guy over there-" he stopped abruptly, realizing what the man was asking. His eyes widened in embarrassment. "Oh, right, uh, two beers please? Whatever's cheapest."
The man grabbed two bottles and plunked them on the counter, snapping the tops off quickly. John paid and tipped rather nicely for two beers, seeing as he was acting strangely. The bartender smiled at him.
He made his way back to Mike, careful to take the same route as he'd come and to keep his eyes on his shoes.
"Here we are then," John handed the bottle to his friend and took a sip. He chose to ignore the same odd look Mike was still giving him and stole a glance at the wall where he'd seen him.
To his disappointment, the wall was now vacant. John's stomach dropped a bit and he looked down at his beer, furrowing his brow.
"John," Mike's voice came from beside him, tentative and unsure. John frowned deeper.
"Yeah?"
Mike opened his mouth then closed it again. He gripped his bottle tighter and looked down at his feet. "Um-I-"
"My word, look at you," a deep, confident drawl came from behind John and he only just missed the relieved then curious look on Mike's face as he turned toward the voice.
John's body went absolutely still as he came face to face with the tall, dark and handsome man he'd been drooling over only a few short minutes ago. His eyes widened at the sturdy features up close, those silver eyes tinting a slight green now as the man narrowed his gaze down at John.
"Uh-er-hi-" John said stupidly, flushing immediately at his lack of a full sentence.
The dark figure smirked confidently at him, his eyelids hanging low and John felt his trousers tighten.
"Mm, just look at you," the man said again, directing his words solely to John. "All blonde hair and blue eyes?" The man reached out and ran his thumb over John's lower lip, placing his fingers softly on John's cheek. "I would love to see what you look like in the throws of an orgasm. Maybe I could borrow you for a weekend and find out for myself? And trust me, you would want to stay for the whole weekend." He tilted his head slightly. "You may not be able to walk straight for a day or two after I'm done with you." His words came out calm. And hot. So. Fucking. Hot.
John's body temperature skyrocketed, his bottom lip blazing as though he'd just been burned by the touch of this unspeakably gorgeous human being. He did everything in his power not to lean into the touch on his cheek.
"Um-I-What-"
The stranger turned his head sharply to Mike, his green eyes tinting darkly.
"Can we help you with something?" His words were biting and harsh, his eyes narrowing on the boy.
John couldn't bring himself to turn away to check on his friend. He heard him squeak out an apology and scurried off in the opposite direction. The man turned his sharp gaze back to John, his features softening for only a moment, as though he were gazing longingly to a lover.
John's heart pounded in his chest, anticipation rushing through his veins. The hair on his neck stood up as a violent shiver ran through his body.
And then those beautiful, sharp features hardened and the man dropped his hand from John's cheek. He cursed the loss of contact and panic reared its ugly head inside him, feeling the abrupt change in the atmosphere. Suddenly, he felt out of his depth.
The man loomed closer to him, murmuring as he stepped forward.
"Listen very closely, John," he said in an impossibly deeper, serious voice. John's cock twitched in his trousers and he held his breath.
"That young man, your friend, what's his name? He's your close friend, yes?"
John's head was swimming, the sudden change in the conversation throwing him off, and disappointing the hell out of him. Weren't they just talking about going back to this guy's house for a shag? A very long, dirty weekend of shagging? John wanted to go back to that. He wanted that. God did he want that.
But all he could do was nod.
"What's his name?"
John blinked. The man rolled his eyes and loomed impossibly closer. "John? Focus. His name. What is it?"
"M-Mike?" John stuttered. Name, his name, his friend's name… wait, what was this guy's name?
"Mike, yes, okay, well Mike was just about to proposition you. Now, you only choosing recently to be openly gay and in a new place with one familiar friend, I assume you wouldn't want that friendship to end due to an uncomfortable situation, correct?"
John could only stare back.
"An acknowledgment of understanding would be most welcome at this time, John," the stranger said impatiently.
John nodded again dumbly.
"Thank you. It's imperative you get ahead of this situation. For one, he isn't actually interested in you in a romantic or sexual way. He's curious. He's recently come to terms with the fact that he may be interested in men as well as women. I'd say within the last six months. He probably realized it shortly before you came out to him, but was terrified of the implications. Your confession or another small event may have spiraled him slightly. But now he's calmed down and his curiosity is getting the better of him. He, however, has no idea how to go about any of this. Finding a willing male to experiment with is far too complex and terrifying for his small mind to wrap around so he turns to the most comfortable and close option: his flat mate and friend who happens to be a homosexual."
John snapped his mouth shut, only just realizing it was hanging open. If this guy said the word sex in any way one more time, John was going to need to re-adjust his trousers.
And then ever so slowly, the man's words caught up with him. He stared, trying to comprehend what had just been said. The stranger stared right back, as though he was seeing John's wheels turn within his head. "I…you…how-wait Mike is… how did you know all that?"
The man's brows knitted together in confusion. "Really? That's your question? You're not shocked that Mike is bisexual or that he was about to hit on you?"
John stared for a moment longer, his brain doing it's best to catch up with the conversation. The stranger waited, straightening up in front of him and smoothing out his face to a blank stare back.
John willed himself not to drop his eyes to the man's lips.
"I can… I can talk to Mike about that later, if that is actually what is going on. I-I want to know," John heard himself saying breathlessly, "how did you know all that?"
The man cocked his head to the side.
"You're not angry," he stated, narrowing his eyes slightly.
It was John's turn to frown. "Why would I be angry?"
The man didn't answer his question. "You're genuinely curious, aren't you?"
John could only nod.
A small flash of surprise ran across the stranger's face before the calm, collected demeanor re-established itself.
"Well," he started and set his upper body slightly back on his hips as though he were settling in for the long haul. When he took a breath, so did John.
"Your friend has been staring at you all night. But not in a longing sort of way. More in a fearful, panicked way. He's not hanging on your every word or pining after you like he would be if he were actually interested. He's been deliberating, going through options of some sort in his head, trying to make a decision. Probably about what he is going to say, how he is going to phrase it. He's been leaning away from you, not toward you like he would if he were actually attracted to you. His body language would depict excitement and anticipation, a twitch of the hand toward you, a subconscious cocking of the head imagining you in some intimate way. He's considered backing out of his plan several times tonight, trying to gather up the courage to talk to several good-looking men around this party. Those men he has shown attraction toward. A subconscious licking of the lips, a minute shuffle in their directions, all depicting sexual interest. But fear, as it so often does, has gotten in the way. He doesn't have the confidence to actually approach a stranger for sex. So he decided to go with his original plan; propositioning you. He's thinking he could start somewhere safe and since he knows you are a homosexual, he figured you wouldn't turn him down. Stupid, really. Gay men are not attracted to all men. But then again, most of the human race is inherently stupid."
John let out a shaky breath he'd been holding and the man pressed on.
"But the part I find most fascinating is that you would have let him do his experiment, John. You wouldn't have been able to say no because that's the type of friend you obviously are."
"I-I wouldn't-"
"Oh of course you would. You're very polite and obviously care about other's feelings, seeing as a total stranger has just come up to you, spouted a bunch of personal information he shouldn't know about you and your friend and you're still talking to him. You're curious, seeing as you have hardly stopped me from speaking, in fact egging me on by asking questions. And you're obviously kind, especially to your friends, as you could have left this event a long time ago after Mike started acting out of character. But you didn't because he asked you to come with him."
"Wow," John breathed.
"Also, you were overly nice to the bartender who was staring at you with sexual interest while you were clearly in distress. I'm not entirely sure how you missed that but you seem to not have noticed."
John froze in mid-lean as he found himself captivated by this little tale the man in front of him had just spun. He rocked back on his heels and stared as the mysterious man glanced over his head, seeming to have lost interest in the conversation. John couldn't let this be over. He couldn't let him lose his focus on him.
"A-and me? How did you know about me?"
Those eyes fell back to John's face and the look of smug amusement settled into his features. "How did I know you were gay, John?"
John nodded.
"Well I thought that would be fairly obvious. The way you were looking at me, of course. Mouth falling open, pupils blown wide, subconscious adjusting of trousers, eyes traveling up and down me like you'd never seen another person before. Your face was flushed but not red, so, not embarrassment, more likely arousal. You were openly staring at another male so you're not ashamed to be gay. Of course, you were embarrassed at being caught, given by the way you ducked behind the crowd. But you looked back over later, so you wanted to still look as you obviously enjoyed what you saw. You also haven't talked to a single female tonight and there are some good-looking women here, a few who have been eyeing you. You're young and obviously single, given by the event you're attending and the male companion you brought that you are clearly not in a relationship with, seeing as you bought him the cheapest beer at the bar and have hardly given him a second glance all night."
John gulped. Was he really that transparent?
"Oh, don't pull that face, John, it's very unbecoming. It was only obvious to me because I am observant. All these other idiots didn't notice a thing. I do, however, have one question I couldn't deduce on my own. I have a few theories but I'd like the actual answer."
"Oh?" was all John could manage, his palms sweating in his pockets.
"Why didn't you come over and talk to me?"
John shook his head slightly, trying to regain proper speaking abilities. "What?"
"Well, you were clearly interested. Why not take the leap, so to speak?"
Uh, because you look like that, John wanted to say but he bit his tongue. The man's eyes narrowed.
"You've clearly come to terms with being gay… but you're still not altogether comfortable with it." The man drew out each sentence as though he were thinking out loud. "You're inexperienced given the way you keep having to stop yourself from leaning toward me, and the way your face flushes at the close proximity of someone you're attracted to… Virgins are rarely in control of their reactions to arousal." He cocked his head to the side. "You're very curious, and not afraid of a challenge, seeing as you haven't moved away from this conversation and you're about to embark on a career as a doctor. Why not attempt to start a conversation with me? Fear?" the man ventured a guess and John felt his face heat up. The man nodded once in conclusion.
"Mm. You think I'm out of your league."
It wasn't a question.
Suddenly, John wanted to run. Get out of this conversation and away from this devastatingly handsome man. But his legs wouldn't move.
"But there's something else," he continued without a response from John, his now clear, almost translucent eyes boring into John. "You're afraid of rejection..." he trailed off, as though deep in thought, "but not solely based on intimidating looks..."
John's body was rigid and he couldn't bring himself to relax. He almost hated how accurate this guy was, but what could he say? He was right on all accounts.
"Ah," the man continued. "You were recently rejected."
All the color drained from John's face.
"First crush I presume? Given by the level of humiliation you're portraying. You're a bit old for a first crush though... ah, first crush you thought there was actual potential with then?"
John stayed stock-still, biting his cheek on the inside, trying to move past embarrassment and on to indignation but couldn't seem to get there. He stared just over the shoulder of this tall stranger, unable to meet his gaze. He didn't want to admit it out loud. It was awful enough in his head.
The man leaned toward him, his features softening slightly. "Not everyone is going to say no to you, John," he said in a deep, quiet voice. "You'll have plenty more opportunities. Don't let it stop you from pursuing what you want."
John's eyes flickered to those clear eyes. Was that an invitation? John couldn't be sure. He shuffled back and forth on his feet uncomfortably, unable to throw himself out there again.
"Relax," the stranger said. "I'm not asking you to hit on me."
John's stomach swooped in disappointment but he nodded, looking back at the floor. "Sorry," he murmured.
The man snorted and John looked up. "What?"
"What on earth would you have to be sorry for?"
John's cheeks burned again and he shifted his weight to his other foot. "I-I don't... I don't know." Then John found his voice. Finally. "I mean you catch me blatantly staring at you, come over here and save me from a potentially friendship ruining mistake, and give me some sound advice. And all I've done is stare at you like a bloody moron."
"You're upset," the man said quietly, his shoulders sagging slightly as though this happens all to often.
"What, upset? No. No, I'm not upset. That was bloody brilliant," John blurted, immediately wanting to take back those words.
The man straightened up a bit.
"Brilliant?"
John nodded and the man looked as though he wanted to laugh. He pursed his lips, holding it back and John grinned.
"I mean, yeah it was intrusive and borderline humiliating for me to hear all my secrets revealed, but I don't know. It was accurate. And you were only trying to help."
The man did actually laugh this time but didn't respond. John grinned harder at the sight, lost in this man's smile. "Hey, what's your name?" The words tumbled out of his mouth and suddenly his brain snapped into place. "Wait, how did you know my name? And how did you know I want to be a doctor?" He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow. "And why did you want to help me save my friendship with Mike?" The questions were falling out of his mouth with ease now and John had to close his lips tightly yet again.
The man's eyes narrowed, still smiling and stuck out his hand. "Sherlock," he said, and without thinking, John took it.
"Nice to meet you, Sherlock," John murmured, his eyes stuck on their joined hands. A small jolt of electricity shot from his fingers straight into his bloodstream and he shivered. Sherlock dropped his hand and stuck it back into his pocket.
The smug look on the man's posh face lit John's insides on fire. He probably looked exactly like that after making someone scream his name in bed… Oh for god's sake.
And then Sherlock winked at him.
John's courage gathered at the back of his throat and he couldn't stop himself. "So, earlier, when you came over at the beginning-"
"Creating a distraction," Sherlock replied simply. "Mike wouldn't have left your side if a stranger had come up and asked you to talk alone. I needed to make him uncomfortable." He smirked slightly. "I also wanted to prove my theory right."
"What theory?"
"That Mike wasn't actually interested in you. If he had been, he would have shown signs of jealousy and possibly stayed, attempting to defend your honor and get me to back off. Instead, he seemed embarrassed and a little grateful for someone stopping the situation before he started to speak."
John's heart dropped to his stomach and he couldn't stop the disappointment from showing all over his face. "Oh," he murmured, his eyes dropping to his feet.
And then those long, elegant fingers were again placed on his face, this time underneath his chin and tilting his gaze back up. Sherlock's eyes searched his face for a moment.
He leaned forward to the side of John's head, his breath hot against the ridge of John's ear. "In truth, John," he murmured, his deep voice vibrating the blonde's insides, "I'm quite certain, at this point, you couldn't handle what I'd like to do to you."
And with that, Sherlock turned on his heel and swept out of the room in a few long, graceful strides.
John stared after him, angered by the implication that he couldn't handle something.
And turned on. Turned on as all fucking hell.
**I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters within it. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Please review and let me know your thoughts, I appreciate feedback! (Unless you absolutely hated it. Then I don't want to know. If you hated it, don't continue to read it. ;)) Cheers!**
