Sherlock woak slowly to the gray London morning his head pounded and his nose was sore. But most disappointing of all was the absence of his new doctor. He had enjoyed John Watson's company. The thought made him smile. Sherlock slid out of bed and resigned to get ready for his day. Once showered and dressed he took one last look at his battered face in the mirror and sighed. He was purple and bruised there was nothing for it. Oh well. He didn't give a damn what people thought anyway. Sherlock stepped out his building and was greeted by a one Miss Irene Adler. Shit.
"What one earth happened to you? Who did this Sherlock? You have to go to the dean, why didn't you call me?"
"Which of those things would you like me to address first woman?" Sherlock took the cigarette from Irene's hand that she had been smoking.
"The second one please." Her eyebrows arched sharply.
"You're clever enough. You know who. The what is obvious and the details are irrelevant. And why would I go to the dean who absolutely hates me?"
"Because you're a student here and Thomas can't be allowed to just basically bully you." Her porcelain face was red with anger.
"The dean would be more likely to expel me then defend me, once I deduced his two simultaneous affairs in front of both parties, my affairs stopped being important to him."
"Well that's just bullshit." Irene snorted.
"Eloquently put." They walked in silence towards class. Irene spotted John first heading their way. He stopped right in front of Sherlock completely invading what would be considered his personal space.
"Hello John." Irene offered a pretty smile.
"Oh hay." John spared her a quick glance, before turning his full attention to Sherlock. "How did you sleep?" John turned Sherlock's head by his chin as he looked Sherlock over.
"Well I suppose. I didn't notice you'd left." Sherlock's voice was soft and warm. Irene watched the scene in silence.
"You looked like you needed the rest." John's voice was low and private. "I didn't have the heart to wake you. Plus you're even more beautiful when you sleep if that's possible." John gently pinched Sherlock's nose, he winced. John let his thumb brush Sherlock's cheek. "Sorry. Had to make sure it wasn't fractured. I'd like to see you later. Come to my practice."
"John I can't..." Sherlock had to surpress a shiver from John's touch.
"You can't what say no? Come. Please. That way I can keep an eye on you. As your doctor of course."
"Of course." Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave a crooked smile. "I'll be there. But only because I owe you for last night."
"Brilliant." John and Sherlock held each other's gaze for a long moment, John obviously trying to decide if he was going to kiss him. Sherlock held his breath waiting. A smile spread across Johns face slow and full of heat. "Later." The word held a double meaning. John tugged at Sherlock's coat sleeve as he walked off toward class.
Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ready for the assault.
"Last night? You sneaky little cockwhore." Irene hissed close to Sherlock's ear.
Sherlock found himself laughing softly at Irene's words. "You jealous?"
"Oh please you lanky git! I'm pissed because you didn't tell me!" Irene smacked Sherlock's arm.
"There's nothing to tell." Sherlock recounted last nights events for her.
"Well it looks like your John is a saint on top of everything else. Let's hope he's a sinner in bed!" Irene bumped Sherlock with her hip and started to walk off fast.
"I've got labs all day, and apparently practice later, don't forget to pay close attention tonight and collect all the useful data you can!" Sherlock called after her. To which Irene just raised her middle finger in the air.
Sherlock set the lab on fire twice. He tried to tell himself that the mint green smoke he'd made had nothing to do with John Watson, but there was no point in lying to oneself. Lapis blue eyes that danced between sapphire and midnight made thinking clearly a struggle. Some how Sherlock managed to get through the rest of the day without causing anymore damage. He started towards the pitch and had to force himself to slow down. He felt silly for being so eager. Sherlock had always thought of himself as a man of science and reason. But then he laid eyes on John out there on the pitch running, wind in his hair, number 9 emblazoned on a jersey that seemed molded to his chest and the strength of his thighs...
"What are you doing here?" Thomas asked as he an a couple of his mates sat behind Sherlock a few steps up.
"I'm just here as a favor to a...friend." Sherlock didn't know what to make of this thing he had with John, but friend seemed like the easiest way to explain it.
"You don't have friends. You tell nasty lies on the people who try to be your friend."
Sherlock closed his eyes and willed himself not to speak. He didn't want to leave the practice but he knew if he stayed things with Thomas would only get more uncomfortable. Sherlock was just about to stand, when he felt a hand on his knee.
"Shipton, you and your mates need to leave." John's voice was firm.
"What are you on about Watson?" Thomas was instantly angry.
"It's a closed practice, and I want you off my pitch."
"Closed? And what makes you think you can make me leave?"
"Aside from the fact that I have a whole rugby team behind me? Me. I, can make you leave." The steel in John's voice was now unmistakable. Thomas heard it too.
"This is bollocks. Gentleman let's go, leave the queer to his practice." Thomas nearly spat the words at John and Sherlock.
"Bi." John grinned and waved at Thomas and his friends as they left.
"You didn't have to do that." Sherlock tried not to smile, but having John help him felt too good.
"Yes I did. You were about to leave me. And we can't have that." John stood one step below Sherlock putting them at eye level.
Sherlock took this opportunity to drink John in. His sun gold skin, wind burnt cheeks, tousled hair, and sparkling ocean blue eyes. He was handsome. John felt the heat of the scrutiny and it made him bold. He leaned close to Sherlock's slightly up turned face. "I can't wait to kiss you."
"Captain, my captain!" Three of John's teammates effectively broke the mood.
"I think they mean you." Sherlock said with a beautiful smile.
"I'm going to work them like dogs!" John winked at Sherlock and ran full tilt back on the pitch yelling. "I've got your captain right here boys!"
11pm Ruskin Park, covered walk. A small fire burned in what looked to be some kind of metal bowl. There was writing on the ground in front of the fire.
~Form A Circle~
~Three Truth Limit~
~The Circle Will Go Around Five Times~
~The First Person Here Ask The First Truth Or Dare~
~Burn Your Flyers~
~11:15 Begin~
The air of mystery hung all around. Irene had arrived to a group of twelve that grew to a mir twenty. The students were varied, and there seemed to be no discernible pattern. The questions and dares were random and all of what was to be expected from college students. By the end of the night Irene had given her bra to a lovely ginger girl she didn't know, there had been one strip tease, two silly dances, one slap, an exposed bum, a set of licked toes, and one young man had been outed as gay.
"As I said, uni fun. Nothing more sinister then that." Irene said from her perch on the desk.
Sherlock lay on his bed, legs crossed eyes closed and blew smoke into the air. "No. Something's not right. Everything is too theatrical. Too staged. Who got slapped?"
"A boy named Albus something, a first year. But there was no malice in it. He was laughing almost immediately after. The girl who slapped him was topless."
"Hum. And the young man who was outed? Was he upset?"
"James Harper. Third year. American. He didn't seem overly bothered by it. Now can we please talk about your night?" Irene lit another cigarette.
"It dose seem that not much occurred. But I have a feeling we're building towards something. Something wicked this way comes."
"And Shakespeare just rolled over in his grave and flipped you off! Can we please get to the smut?!"
Sherlock laughed at her impatience. "Well considering he and I haven't gotten to the smut yet, I'll have to say no. He walked me back to my flat, asked if I would come to his match tomorrow and we said good night."
"God help me! Just grab the man and kiss him already!" Irene jumped off the desk yelling and prancing around the room.
"I want to I really do, but whenever I'm closed to him, when he's near me, I'm so, he's just. Mesmerizing. Fuck." Sherlock sat up wide eyed as the depth of his feelings struck him.
"Eloquently put." Irene said flippantly. Sherlock threw a pillow at her head.