A/N: Here's a back-to-school present for all my lovely readers/reviewers/favoriters/followers. I'll be updating daily. I know the angst/humor label combination is a bit odd, but it's true nonetheless. Enjoy!
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Sherlock hates warm weather.
But not for the reasons you'd expect.
True, he dislikes being hot and sweaty. Stupid transport. Drinking is boring. But passing out from heat exhaustion makes John angry, which is a Bad Thing.
Granted, he dislikes giving up his beautiful Belstaff coat. His safety blanket, making him invincible to the verbal blows of his enemies, making him even more intimidating and dramatic. It gives him power over the weak-minded, and he loves it.
But the humidity makes people more aggravated, which leads to more crimes, which is a Good Thing. A bit of sweat was worth not being Bored.
Regardless, Sherlock hates warm weather, because when it is warm, John doesn't wear his jumpers.
It isn't because he likes John's jumpers, he hates the lumpy, shapeless, colorless things. Give him a purple shirt and a suit any day. John would clean up so nicely if he would only let Sherlock shop for him.
No, it's because of what John hides under his jumpers. A secret.
And it isn't The Scar, although that definitely bothers him. Whenever John has to take off his shirt in public (usually to staunch some wound of Sherlock's) people stare. And continue to stare until he puts something back on. And then the whispers start. The idiotic speculation and rumors. Which leads to more looks. Which makes John uncomfortable, because then he has to explain things he'd rather leave firmly in the past. Which is a Bit Not Good.
No, The Scar was not The Secret. Sherlock didn't even know there was a Secret until one chilly day in October.