"Are we still not speaking?"
"Yes." John said plainly into his textbook.
"Made eggs." Sherlock said with a fake grin. John looked over at the plate of eggs, then back to his text.
"No you didn't." He turned the page "Mrs. Hudson always puts parsley on her eggs." John was laying stretched out on his bed, his medical biology book in his lap. He was trying his hardest to ignore Sherlock.
"I helped." Sherlock pouted.
"No you didn't." John smacked his lips together. "Likely stood round, eating bacon, and chatted it up with the landlady."
"How'd you know I was eating bacon?" Sherlock looked at him intrigued.
"There's none on my plate is there?" John slammed his book shut. "And you thought I couldn't smell it from up here?" He looked at Sherlock's offering once more. "Pathetic."
"Got hungry on the walk up." Sherlock sighed.
"So you brought me a plate of eggs, that you didn't cook, and the false promises of bacon, and you expect me to forgive you?" John glared at him.
"Not forgive... just speak to me again." Sherlock's shoulders drooped. He took a seat on the edge of John's bed and looked at John sorrowfully.
"What you did to Mike was wrong." John sighed. "He's a real nice guy and you ripped him to pieces."
"He told me to show off. What was I supposed to do? Tell him about his mother's cat's diabetes?"
"Y-yes! Anything would have been better than what you did. It was mean Sherlock. You don't poke fun of someone like that." John looked away. "His mum's cat is diabetic?"
"He smells of sugar-coated ammonia. You should probably tell him to wash his coat" Sherlock grinned as John tried to hold back a laugh.
"I just can't believe you sometimes."
"In what way?"
"In every way. You're an absolute nutter." John finally let a smile cross his lips. "All right. I'm not so cross. Less you've done something else stupid and that's why you're bribing me with breakfast in bed."
"I've been good all day!"
"It's nine..."
"It was hard. Near set the kitchen on fire twice."
"Sherlock!"
"Near." Sherlock corrected. "Oh... by the way... you're going to need to purchase some new dish towels."
"Wait, why?" John looked at Sherlock in concern.
"They were sitting on the burner when I ignited it."
"You said you didn't set the kitchen on fire!"
"It was only the stove top. Sides... Mrs. Hudson took care of it." Sherlock smiled. "Made eggs too!"
"And bacon..." John said sitting back, frowning.
"It was real good. Thick cut." Sherlock said rubbing his stomach. John kicked him in the hip. "Hey! If you weren't up here sulking, you could've had some too!" John groaned.
"Doesn't matter, 'you know who' is taking me out for the day."
"Awh, not again." Sherlock said with a mouth full of eggs. Sherlock swallowed. "God, won't he let up?"
"He says he's real sorry."
"Sorry he wasn't shagging you last night." Sherlock huffed. He shovelled more eggs in his mouth.
"Christ Sherlock, those were supposed to be for me." John whined.
"So was the bacon. Mrs. Hudson is a fairly decent cook." John let the back of his head strike and bounce off the headboard.
"Yeah... well... guess I'm glad to see you eating for a change."
"Thought I'd fill up for the week, I've got at least twenty different research projects planned, I'm hoping to get around to the first eleven today."
"What about school work?"
"What school work?" Sherlock looked at him while he licked the plate.
"Don't you have school projects to do?"
"Yeah... not going to." Sherlock shrugged.
"Sherlock, you'll fail!"
"Oh shut up. What are project partners for?"
"You need to work together, build valuable teamwork skills, put your heads together."
"I paid him hundred quid to do it for me. Seemed thrilled."
"I'd be thrilled too if I got a hundred pounds and didn't have to see your ugly mug on my time off." John crossed his arms.
"You don't have to look at my face, you're going out with Lestrade." Sherlock gagged.
"Greg's a good guy."
"You say that... all the time. Haven't seen it yet, now have I?" Sherlock dropped the empty plate on John's bed. He went to stand.
"Sherlock! Put your plate in the sink."
"Not your housekeeper." Sherlock said indignantly and left John's room in a quick sweep. John rolled out of bed, put on his shoes, and let out a heavy sigh.
Sunday. My last day off. I just want to lay in bed and ignore the world. Sunday's a day of rest and repose, I should be getting ready for church.
John felt a slight pang in his chest. He hadn't been to church in ages. Not since his mum passed away. He hated how they paraded his parents bodies around with the wakes, memorial services, burial services, and separate funeral services. He wasn't able to set foot in a church without feeling sick to his stomach.
He wasn't sure if he should even be a Christian any more. His parents and his parents' church were adamant in the anti-gay movement. They had fliers on the church bulletin board, outreach programs for families with gay children. It wasn't just camps, they had support groups, experimental therapies. Even when John didn't think he was gay, the thought of those programs scared him. His sister made it out 'ok'. Others were changed, they appeared brain washed, they looked sick, depressed, yet compliant.
John was really confused about his sexual orientation. He really did seem attracted to men. He liked how Greg held him Friday night. Girls couldn't provide that level of comfort. He had felt so safe.
He had had another night terror the night prior. Just after the 'party' simmered down and disbanded, he headed straight for bed. He woke up moments after nodding off. He thought he saw a figure in the doorway. He had flung himself out of bed and pinned himself against the wall, screaming bloody murder. He was left a shaking mess on his bedroom floor. He didn't cry, he just shuddered in fear, the room felt freezing, he thought he saw his own breath. He had felt a terrible looming presence.
He had looked at the door in fear for quite some time before he convinced himself it was nothing and that he should get back in bed. He was still shaken up by the experience, he couldn't fall back asleep when his phone alarm went off at six, he started reading his textbooks and took some notes.
Greg had sent him several texts, even ventured to leave a voice-mail. John ignored them for as long as he could. Then he caved in and responded. Greg begged and pleaded via text and John finally gave in and agreed to coffee.
John didn't even drink coffee, he found it either too bitter or overly sweet. He'd make an exception for Greg, who obviously felt guilty about running out on him at the restaurant.
Sherlock was wrong in one aspect when he had predicted Greg's grovelling. Greg never once called Sherlock a twerp or any derogatory term for that matter. He blamed himself for flying off the handle and letting Sherlock get to him. John thought that he might not have been so forgiving if Greg had pinned this whole thing on Sherlock's behaviour. Sherlock was just trying to clown around, have some fun.
"JOHN! Your boyfriend's here!" Sherlock shouted up the stairs.
"Oh, why don't you go eat a dick you little fuck!" John shouted back.
"John!" Greg shouted up the stairs. John's heart jumped, he let out a heavy sigh, went for the door and opened it, only to see Greg looking up the stairwell and Sherlock snickering beside him.
"Not you Greg... Sherlock." John scowled at Sherlock. "You said he was here, you didn't tell me he was inside already!" Sherlock shrugged and smiled maliciously.
"He even brought you a present." Sherlock said pointing to the bag in Greg's hands. Greg walked halfway up the steps and handed it up to John.
"Just a little something to say I'm sorry." Greg said nodding.
"Clothes?" John said looking into the bag. "Um... thanks..."
"Go put em on. I'll wait down here." Greg said giving John an awkward half grin. John went back into his room. He shut the door and threw the bag on his bed. John sighed and reached into the bag. He pulled out a grey striped t-shirt. He looked it over. It had a deep V neck. John shrugged and threw it off to the side. He reached in once more and felt a weird material. He furrowed his brow and pulled it out.
Purple trousers... Shiny... Purple vinyl trousers.
John looked them over with much concern. He looked at the size. They were his size. He looked them over again.
There's no way these are going to fit... then he'll just have to return them.
John sighed and removed his trainers and trousers, he sat down on his bed, and held the purple trousers up once more. He closed his eyes and went for it. He slid them on to his legs with some difficulty, they fit him rather snug. He stood up and shimmied them over his hips. He pulled up the zip with ease. They actually fit quite nicely. Like a glove. John looked at himself in his standing mirror.
They're leggings! Skin tight leggings!
John ran his hands down the front of his legs. They felt nice. He noticed his underwear's band sticking out above the trousers.
That's why Greg has those Speedo pants. My underwear is showing! What would my mum say?
John's face went blank.
What would she say about me having sex with men?
John felt uneasy. He swallowed his feelings and pulled his shirt over his head and tried on the new grey one. He gave himself an odd look in the mirror. He furrowed one brow and cocked his head to one side.
"I look really gay." He said to his reflection. His reflection seemed to agree with him, he nodded to himself. He pulled his low top chucks out from under his bed and slid them on. He gave himself one last look in the mirror as he laced up his shoes.
He looked like a punk rocker. John shrugged and stood up.
"Whatevs." He said to his reflection, leaving his room. Sherlock and Greg had left the landing and John could hear Greg chatting in the living area. The front door was wide open so John slipped in unnoticed.
Sherlock looked up at John first and Greg turned around.
"John you look-"
"Ridiculous" Sherlock finished. Greg turned to Sherlock and gave him a look.
"No he doesn't. Just needs to fix up his hair. Complete the look." Greg said standing up. He reached his hand into his coat's pocket and pulled out a tiny tub of styling cream. John looked at it with apprehension. Greg opened it, withdrew a glob, and rubbed it in his hands. He started fussing with John's hair, making it stand up. John looked at Sherlock with a 'help me' look. Sherlock sat back on the sofa grinning stupidly.
"There." Greg said, he messed with it a moment longer before going to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. John looked at Sherlock and pouted his lower lip. Sherlock snickered. "K, one more thing and we'll be out of here."
"Is that a pencil?" John said grimacing at the object in Greg's hand.
"Eye liner." He said looking at John as if he was stupid. "Look up." John furrowed his brows in concern. "It'll look good, I promise." Greg assured him. Sherlock was dying trying to hold back laughter. John looked up and started asking God what he had ever done to him?
I was such a good boy growing up. Hardly ever got into trouble. Went to church every Sunday. Why'd I ever go to that club? I'm putting on make-up for Christ's sake!
"K, go have a look at yourself." Greg said turning John toward the direction of the loo. John walked in shame. He rounded the corner and let out a big sigh as he stepped into the bathroom. He looked up at his reflection. He could hardly recognize himself. He looked Sherlock's age. The outfit made him took super thin. His hair was pressed together in a faux-hawk. He squinted and looked at the make-up, it wasn't very subtle.
Punk rocker... guess that beats him dressing me up like a school boy.
John turned and walked out of the loo. He tried to shove his hands into his pockets, but there weren't any front pockets, just seams that looked like pockets.
My day is just full of false hopes. First false hopes of bacon, now false hopes of pockets.
John walked with his shoulders slumped back into the front room. He stopped in front of Greg and stared down at his feet.
"John." Greg said lifting John's chin to look up at him. "You look stunning." He leaned forward and brought their lips together gently. Greg pulled away slightly and stared into John's eyes. John stepped back and Greg brought his hand back down. John looked Greg over. He was in all black again. Black leather jacket, black shirt, black trousers. John looked down at his own shiny purple leggings.
Sherlock started giggling. John gave him a pitiful look.
"Ignore him, you look amazing." Greg said grabbing John's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Come on, let's get out of here. Escape for a while." Greg's voice was so soothing and persuasive. John allowed him to lead him by the hand out of the flat. Sherlock simply waved with a smug grin on his face and John continued to look back at him with a pleading look until they reached the landing.
They rushed down the stairs and out on to Baker Street to Greg's car parked on the street. John slid in the passenger side and let out a heavy sigh before Greg got in the car. Greg sat down and immediately placed a hand on John's knee.
"God John, you look so good." His breath shuttered as he looked John over. He seemed to wince in pain. He licked his bottom lip and turned forward. He shook his head and let out a puff of air. "Art exhibit. Friend of mine, owns the place, he's letting us in for a special preview."
What's with him and previews?
"You're gonna meet some mates of mine today, gonna go get some lunch together. It'll be a real nice time." He glanced over to John and immediately turned away. "Sorry... you just..." Greg shifted slightly in his seat. "Fuck, you're such a turn on." Greg palmed his crotch with one hand. He was grimacing in pain. He looked over at John and licked his bottom lip once more. "Think you could... you know? Help me out?"
John's eyes went wide, he looked side to side like there was someone else in the car he might have been talking to. He leaned back slightly, pressing his back against the door.
"Um... like how?" He asked hesitantly.
"You ever given head in a car before?" John stopped breathing. He sucked in a breath through his nose. He was like a deer in headlights. His hand was wrapped around the door handle.
"No." John said in an odd high pitched voice. He shook his head for emphasis.
"Relax! I'm not going to force you down on me." Greg chuckled. "You... ever given head, like... ever?" John shook his head once more. Greg laughed. "Yeah, best not learn in a moving vehicle then. Could end badly." Greg laughed heartily. He started up the car and John let out a deep sigh of relief.
Thank God.
"We... still getting coffee?" John asked timidly.
"Oh shit, I forgot. You want to stop for some?"
"No... I'm fine." John shrugged. "I don't even really like coffee that much."
"You don't?" Greg made a face. "Used to drink mine all the time."
It was true, when John was younger he'd sneak sips of Greg's coffee to look cool. He never acquired a taste for it. Same with cigarettes. He just wanted to fit in with Greg's older friends desperately.
"You just haven't had any good coffee. We could go to this one shop-"
"No, it's ok. Really." John interjected.
"You sure?" Greg said looking at him. John could tell Greg instantly regretted looking over. "Today is going to be real rough with you looking like that."
"Yeah." John agreed. He wasn't ready for the looks he was certain he was going to get. Especially if they were going to Soho. Hopefully everyone was staying in, taking advantage of their day off.
After a long and awkward silence they started passing several flats and shops with rainbow flags displayed in their windows. They passed by three sex shops in a row. John titled his head in confusion.
"Thought you said Soho was all arts n coffee shops now." John said as they passed a particularly raunchy shop.
"They've got most of the sex confined to Brewer Street."
"And this... art exhibit... it's on-"
"Brewer Street, yep." Greg said popping the 'p'.
"Um Greg... Is this one of those... exhibits with... you know..."
"Naughty bits?"
"Full nude striptease." John said reading a shop's sign. John smacked his lips together. "We're going to a pornographic exhibit, aren't we?" Greg looked straight forward and bit his bottom lip holding back a smile.
"Mate of mine, lettin us have a sneak peak. Thought... less people you know..."
"You're taking me out, on Sunday, the day of our Lord, to look at gay pornography?"
"Problem?" Greg smirked. John felt an odd stirring of excitement. He let out a small laugh and couldn't help but smile. He blushed. "Have you ever even seen a pornography?" John shook his head. "Ever been in a sex shop?" John shook his head once more. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
They pulled into a car-park and hopped out. They found their way on to the street and Greg stuffed his hands into his leather jacket and walked with determination, leaving John five paces behind. John felt a slight chill in the air, his leggings were no help in retaining heat. He crossed his arms and braced himself against the light wind.
Greg looked back and grinned. "You look cold." John nodded. Greg stripped off his jacket and put it around John's shoulders. John felt instantly ten degrees warmer. Greg wrapped an arm around John's shoulder and leaned in for a brief chaste kiss. "Better?"
"Much." John grinned.
"Come on, it's not much further." Greg laced his fingers in John's and they walked hand in hand down Brewer Street, past all the sex shops, oriental cuisine, and bars. John was surprised at how few looks they received. People just passed them by in the street like they were just part of the scenery. John let out a content sigh.
When his sister and Clara tried walking hand in hand on the street they were given all sorts of looks. Didn't help his sister was a fan of throwing Clara against a wall for a snog-fest in the middle of public. John made it a habit of not hanging out with them when he was younger.
They stopped in front a bright purple door with an intercom. Greg thumbed down the directory and buzzed the second one from the bottom. John looked around. They were right next to the full nude strip joint John had pointed out earlier.
Hot Girls.
John grimaced. The door opened and a very effeminate man rushed out to greet them. John was in shock when the guy pounced on him and brought into a limp, spaghetti noodle-armed, embrace. He was given two kisses on each cheek. John felt off balance.
"Oh my God Gregory! He's adorable!" The guy shouted and put his hands to his face, holding back a squeal.
Adorable?
"Come on in! Come on!" He said waving his long skinny arm beckoning them. He placed a splayed hand on John's back and rushed John into the door and up the stairs. John looked back at Greg in fear and confusion. Greg just smiled. They walked up several flights of stairs before reaching the top floor. "Oh my, where's my manners?" The guy stopped abruptly. "I'm Joe." and held out a hand to John.
"I'm... John..."
"Oh I know all about you." He gave John a dead fish handshake. He smiled brightly at John. They turned into the open flat and John stopped at the threshold. Greg caught up. John took a quick look around and stood frozen in the doorway. Greg grabbed John's hand and lead him in. "John dear, you look a bit pale." Joe said looking John over.
"He's never seen this many penises before is all." Greg said patting John's shoulder. John's mouth dropped. Every bit of art was penis related. There was any overwhelming amount of sculptures, paintings, photographs, and everyday objects mashed together to resemble phalli. Freud would've had a field day in this room. John blinked. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this was definitely not it.
He looked up. There were dildos hanging from the ceiling, made to look like model aeroplanes.
"Most folks just get the giggles. I can tell you're a special sort John." Joe said handing him a champagne glass. John thought himself blessed that the champagne flutes weren't penis-shaped as well. He took a sip. "What do you think?" Joe asked excitedly. John gathered from his face that this collection was near and dear to him, he was obviously the artist of the majority if not all of the pieces on display. Sherlock's talent for deduction must have been rubbing off on him. The corner of John's mouth tugged into a grin at the thought.
"It's a creative use of cock." Joe seemed to like John's answer. John was relieved. "You're a regular penis pioneer." John said looking up to the ceiling. Joe started laughing uncontrollably.
They didn't stay long. They chatted a bit, drank some champagne. After the initial shock it wasn't that bad. They were works of art, something to be observed and analysed. John could understand why most people would just point and laugh. It was a room of a thousand dongs, would be hard for most people to not snicker at least once. However, with the artist standing right there, John couldn't in good conscious poke fun of his life's passion.
John and Greg waved goodbye to Joe and headed downstairs. Joe blew several kisses and waved with both hands. John smiled at his enthusiasm.
"What'd you really think?" Greg asked once they were safely outside.
"He's got a passion, some of the stuff was really wild." John sighed. "Wish I had an ounce of artistic talent."
"I'm... impressed John." Greg said. John looked at him confused. "Well after the films, I thought you wouldn't appreciate a room full of dicks."
"Greg, those films were God awful."
Greg chuckled, "Yeah they were." Greg sighed and looked over John. "You're amazing, you know that?" John looked confused. "You know, I was wondering." John had a sneaking suspicion where this conversation was headed.
"Was this like some kind of test?" John asked abruptly.
"No! No." Greg thought a moment. "Well maybe." Greg stroked John's cheek with his left hand. "Just weren't sure if, you know, you were mature enough."
John knew exactly where this was headed yet still asked, "Mature enough for what?"
"For a relationship... with me." Greg shrugged. "You know... if you want to." John looked down at the ground. "You want to?"
I need time to think about it. Weigh my options. I shouldn't take this decision lightly. I don't want to lead Greg on. I'm not to sure I'm ready for a serious relationship, with a man. Especially Greg of all people.
"John?" Greg asked. John's heart skipped a beat, he felt rushed into responding.
"I suppose." John shrugged. "Give it a try."
God, this could be a big mistake.
"Great, let's buy you some new pants, Prowler's is down the street." Greg said biting his lower lip and dragging John down the street to his first sex shop.
Yeah sure I'll be your boyfriend Greg! Great let's get some arse-less pants!
