Despite unfair assumptions and oblivious dispositions, Sherlock was by no means a virgin. He was far too curious for that, but was disinterested in any romantic entanglements and relied solely on parties to collect the necessary data from both sexes. To him everything was fairly fluid; nothing was ever strictly black and especially something as trivial as orientation.

It was another late night in the lab, when Sherlock met what was soon to be another one of his distractions. Sebastian was an accounting student; chemistry was just required course he was struggling with. He was redoing an assigned lab, unsuccessfully if the cursing was anything to go by. Sherlock would often forgo sleep in order to mess about in the laboratories. He had charmed the teachers into allowing him access to everything, it was quite simple really. He was working late when the struggling boy annoyed his peace.

"You're doing it wrong," Sherlock stated indifferently, not even looking up from his microscope.

"Am, I," Sebastian snapped defensively, "This is rubbish anyway."

"Just follow the bullet points," He switches sides, "If you do it in order, you'll get the desired result."

"I have no clue what I'm bloody doing," the other boy sighs, "What bullet points?"

Sherlock sighs weightily, standing up briskly, "These," he points harshly to the page in the work book. "Perhaps if you didn't waste your nights talking to that girl, who's obviously cheating on you, you'd be able to stay awake in lecture." He observes

The other boy fails to hide the surprise on his face at the revelation. "Go on then, if you're so clever," Sebastian taunts with a smirk, crossing his arms.

"This is your work, not mine." He moves to turn on his heel, when a firm grip take hold of his slender forearm.

"Come on, can't we arrange something?"

Sherlock's skin crawled at the smarmy quality the other boys voice took on, but the contact itself was so craved that he ignored the warnings his rational mind was giving him. That's how the whole thing had begun, he would help Sebastian with his chemistry and they'd fuck. There was hardly a spot on the campus they hadn't had some sort of seedy tryst at odd hours of the night.

Seb could be quite charming when he wanted to be; at least he started off that way. Sherlock wouldn't admit, but he was actually entertaining the idea of them being a couple. As boring and pedestrian as it was, he found he wouldn't really mind going to the movies and other such things. That was until it the other boy clearly laid it out that this was just a fun thing to enjoy while it lasts.

That's what Sherlock did, he squashed any feelings that could have ever developed and clinically went along for the ride. Two months it continued, Sherlock was starting to get bored and Seb was becoming demanding. It was getting to the point he was high, every time they hooked up, so he decided it was time to call it quits.

The two boys were walking back from the labs at two in the morning, Sherlock smoking in silence as Sebastian took his hand. Cool eyes, moved from their joint hands to the other boys eyes, analytically.

"What's up with?" Seb asks, "You've been oddly silent."

"I'm thinking," is the curly haired boys, pensive reply.

"It's not just today…" He states awkwardly, "I've been doing a bit of thinking too…"

"Oh?" Sherlock questions, exhaling smoke.

"What would you say if we gave this a go?" Seb wonders aloud, stopping and studying their hands.

"This?" He stared at the other boy in disbelief, before stubbing out his cigarette.

"Ya, you and me…A proper relationship."

Sherlock eyes the other kid critically, taking everything in as he internally scoffs. "No." He retracts his hand.

"No?"

"No, this has been fun and all… really," he stresses, his tone even and emotionless. "But we agreed that's all this was."

"Yeah, well things change, I mean I really like you and…" Seb flounders, the whole situation going vastly different then he thought it would.

"The only feelings I have for you are friendship," Sherlock informs him, "I can't do this." He turns to walk away.

Sebastian stops him, grabbing his upper arm, "Why not?" He asks haughtily, confusion turning to anger. "I deserve an answer," he demands, searching Sherlock eyes.

"I…" he starts, trying to organize his thoughts and interpret what exactly he's thinking or feeling. "I don't know…" Sherlock admits quietly, looking at the ground. "It just wouldn't work… sorry." He dislodges his arm from the other boys grasp and starts to walk hurriedly away.

"That's not a reason, Sherlock!" Seb calls angrily after him, "Ya, sod off you bloody robot!"

Sherlock turns the corner and breaks off into a run, logically his reaction made sense. They stated the perimeters of the relationship at the beginning, so he resigned himself to the fact that that was how it was to remain. He never took into account feelings, having evaporated any that could have possibly surfaced at the beginning of all this.

The dorm is eerily quiet at this hour, as he ignores the silence and slams into his room. Kenneth wakes with a start, having fallen asleep with the telly on. Sherlock leans heavily on the door, sliding down to the floor and resting his head on his bent knees, trying his damndest to just erase it all. There was reason for him to feel anything about this, he rationalized.

"You alright, mate?" Ken asks worriedly from his bed.

"Shut up," Sherlock snaps, the boy instantly falling silent. Sherlock's mind still racing, he can feel his roommates eyes still on him, "I said shut up!" He yells again, rising to his feet. He rummages through his things, finding his kit and playing with it as he internally debates. He paces slightly before hopping to his feet to use it in the in suite toilet, slamming the door harshly behind him.

He emerges ten minutes later, Kenneth eyeing cautiously, it's clear that the Sherlock is still amped up for some reason.

"You can talk to me ya know," Ken offers awkwardly, flinching in anticipation of another outburst. "I can't promise I can help, but I'll try."

"Help," Sherlock glares at him, "You want to help, me?"

Kenneth shrugs, "If you need it."

"What I need…" Sherlock starts darkly, a manic edge to him, "Is for you to either shut up, or to punch something… so unless you care to fight me…"

"I'm not going to fight ya, mate." He chuckles slightly.

"No of course not, because you care."

"Yea, I reckon I do…" Ken gets off his bed to unsure of what to do, "What are you insinuating, mate?"

"I'm not your mate!" Sherlock snaps, unfairly, getting into the other boys face. "I admit your attraction to me is quite useful at times, but…" He scrutinizes the dull person before him, his lips curling as he realizes the information he'd been missing. "Oh, that's it then isn't it?"

"What?" Kenneth starts, frowning.

"How much is he paying you?" He accuses, "Or is it the chance to just be near me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He shoots back his patience wearing thin.

"Don't lie!" Sherlock bellows, pushing the other boy. "You're spying on me for him!" He breathes, getting right in Ken's face. "That's why you try to offer distractions and food, it's obvious…"

"It's because I like you, ok!" Ken shouts back, their eyes liked angrily. Then Ken does something uncharacteristically impulsive and pulls Sherlock to him in a harsh kiss.

Sherlock is as dumb struck as he is unresponsive; he never thought in his twenty years that Kenneth would do something so rash and so blatantly unwelcome. Everything clicking back to reality, he pushes his roommate harshly away from him and dramatically wipes his mouth. "You're pathetic," he sneers in disdain before exiting the room.

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