Please review! This is my first Sherlock fanfiction so I'd love any feedback you have :D

Chapter 10

John's head was throbbing painfully before he could even open his eyes. Someone was banging on the door of 221B.

"Are either of you awake?" Mycroft's sharp voice called.

"Mmm! Hang on," John croaked, before staggering out of bed and answering the door.

"Good morning, John. I can see that you both did infact attend last night's due, no big surprise there."

Sherlock was still sleeping, breathing softly and wrapped up like a baby in the coat that John had put over him.

"Not to be rude, but is there actually a reason that you're here?"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, "an assembly is being held at 2 o'clock, allowing you both enough time to sober up and shower."

"An assembly, about what?"

"What do you think? The events of last night were as disastrous as they have been in previous years, and yet the students still feel an urge to carry out this ridiculous tradition. I expect the headmaster will want to give you all a little lecture on responsibility and I strongly suggest that you are there."

"Sure, what ever. Bye, Mycroft."

Mycroft glanced pitifully at Sherlock before John closed the door in his face. He knew he had to wake Sherlock, but he didn't want to. Memories of what had happened between them last night came flooding back to him, and he now wondered about how Sherlock would react. He brushed a soft curl out of the boy's face before shaking him gently.

"Sherlock.."

Sherlock's eyes fluttered open. He frowned, surveying his surroundings.

"Whu- how did I get here?" his voice was croaky also.

"We came back up after the party-? The teachers found out-?"

"They did? Shit.."

"S- Sherlock, do you not remember what happened last night?"

He sat up, frowning at the black coat that had been put on him and gently lifting it off. Watching him get out of bed was like watching Bambi learn how to walk.

"Sherlock-?"

"Mmm?"

"What can you remember from last night?"

He blinked a few times and rubbed his face.

"Well, we went to the party, and drank, and then there was the woman, and then..laughing. 'N that's about it."

John felt like he had just been punched in the gut.

"So, you don't remember coming back here?"

"No, why? Should I?"

"No, no. Just wondering. You can have a shower first, if you want. Mycroft came round and there's an assembly soon so I guess you want to change out of those clothes."

His voice broke as he spoke to the floor. He just really wanted Sherlock to leave the room so could scream in to a pillow or something.

"Right, yes. Shower."

He stumbled in to the bathroom and as soon as the door was shut, John dropped on to the bed and put his face in his hands, restraining himself from crying. He didn't remember. John should have realised that Sherlock wasn't used to drinking, he should have realised that Sherlock didn't really know what he was doing. John had been fully aware of the situation, and despised himself, drunk or not, for taking advantage.

It had seemed so genuine at the time, so amazing, and it hurt that Sherlock didn't even remember it. John had felt so drawn to Sherlock over the past week and couldn't figure out why, and kissing him had made him feel so alive and special and all he wanted was for Sherlock to feel that too, but he didn't. Sober Sherlock probably wasn't interested in John like that in the slightest, so trying something like that again would just freak him out. God he was fucked and all he wanted to do was to leave and scream but he couldn't.

And of course Sherlock remembered Irene Adler. But he had been so uncomfortable with Irene and had been passionate and relaxed and natural with John and none of it was fair. He didn't know what else to do. He left 221B and went upstairs to Greg and Philip's dorm to ask for advice. They wouldn't take the piss out of him, or he hoped not.

"Greg?" he called through the door, "Greg, it's John, are you up?"

"Yeah, coming."

The door opened and Greg was standing there in last night's clothes, hair sticking up and dark circles under his eyes.

"C- could I talk to you?"

"Yeah, sure, come in. You alright, mate? You seem a bit panicky."

"Um, not really. Er, last night, when me and Sherlock went back up to the dorm.."

He stopped, rethinking what he was about to say.

"Yes-?"

"Right, yeah. We erm, wait, promise you won't take the piss?"

"Promise."

"Well, we kissed."

"You what!? Jesus, seriously? Wow.." Greg seemed more impressed than shocked, "so, what's the problem?"

"He doesn't remember it happening. I'm blooding freaking out, w- what do I do?"

"Shit. I - I dunno mate. Did you enjoy it?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"No I mean, do you want to take it further?"

"Well, yeah. I really do, but I don't think he does. He was pissed and didn't know what he was doing and I did know what I was doing and I know it was wrong of me but I just wanted to make sure but now I don't know what to do and-"

"John, stop for breath!"

"Help."

"Well I dunno what to do, do I?"

"Should I tell him? I don't want to scare him away."

"John, if you really like him, and I have no idea why that would be, but if you do, you've got to tell him. It's either tell him and never know or don't tell him and then there's no chance of anything happening."

"But what if I tell him and he freaks out?"

"...then you're fucked, I guess."

"What's going on?" a female's voice called from bathroom. Molly came out, hair wet and dressed in an over sized shirt.

"Oh! John, sorry, hi."

"Hi, Molly."

"You okay, John?"

"Yep."

Greg looked as though he was going to burst.

"Him and Sherlock got off," he blurted out, on the verge of laughter.

"Hey, you said you wouldn't take the piss!-"

"Oh my god, really?-"

"We didn't 'get off,' we kissed-"

"A lot-"

"A bit-"

"But you loved it."

"But none of that matters because he doesn't even know it happened!"

"John, calm down. You want some tea?"

Greg scuttled off in to the corner of the room to put the kettle on while John sat on his bed with his head in his hands. Molly sat next to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"Are you going to tell him?" Molly asked.

"Um, yeah, I guess I have to, and then pack my stuff."

"Don't say that! You never know, he could like you back."

"But, he won't."

John drank his tea with shaking hands. He was usually very strong emotionally, but ever since meeting Sherlock his moods had been up and down constantly. He wasn't even bothered by the fact that he had just come out as gay, all he was bothered about at this moment in time was Sherlock.

"Thanks, guys, for everything. I guess I'd better go, get it over with. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, mate. Hey, if it goes tits up, you can just pretend you were joking."

"Yeah, yeah I'll do that."

Butterflies returned to his stomach as he made his way back down to 221B, dreading every step he took closer to the boy that would either shoot him down or make him the happiest he had ever been.