Sherlock still was wasn't sure John was telling the truth but it felt better than being alone. He had thought that alone was fine. More than fine, preferred. But John Watson breezed into his life and suddenly he was warm, he was safe, he was wanted. He had been bullied his whole life but in the few short weeks since John came to this school the bullying has receded to mere name calling. He's still "The Freak" after. Not even John could change that.

But what John could do is make the name seem more like a badge of honor than the insult they made it out to be. To be unusual. To be different. Not only was it okay to be so, it was a good thing. It meant that he wasn't just part of the crowd, he was special. By making him feel special, Sherlock was able to turn that around and make Victor feel special too. He had never had the desire to want to be there for someone before and now he had two.

He wasn't sure about this assignment however. Taking a scene from a book that was at least a couple centuries old and updating it? Sherlock knew that John was enjoying the book but he didn't he couldn't wait for it to be over with so he could delete it from his hard drive.

He didn't need the useless information clouding up something so valuable as the space in his mind palace. He opened up his mind palace and took a stroll through the data he had collected. He found to his amusement that he had three new rooms in his palace. Lestrade, Victor and John. He smiled at the last one.

He was always learning new things about his roommate. He opened the door to this room and walked in. It was bright and sunny. In one corner was John's rugby kit. The boy's med-kit lay propped up on the bed. It was open. Sherlock peered into the box with curiosity. In it was the bruise cream and the wrap John had used when those asswipes beat Sherlock within a inch of his life. Then there was the scalpel from the Silver Blaze case. Sherlock picked it up and held it in his hand.

Sherlock knew he shouldn't have gotten so angry that John knew something he didn't. John knew all sorts of things that he didn't. Granted most of those things were pop culture references but John had a different life than Sherlock so of course he had a different knowledge and skill set than he did. He wouldn't expect John to know which fork was for fish and which one was for salad. As for as John was concerned, there was one for everything. Just like Sherlock had no idea about rugby.

But it was his first real case and he wanted to solve it by himself. But that was becoming more and more clear that he needed John to help him. Sherlock was a cynical boy, with finely honed abilities to narrow into the minute details but John tended to see the big picture and maybe that's what he needed. He was so focused on the details that he couldn't see the complete puzzle.

Usually he could see the small pieces falling together to make the big picture but this time he found he couldn't tear himself away from the details. As much as Sherlock hated to admit it he was too emotionally attached to the case. He wanted to find Silver Blaze. Bring him home.

He walked out of the room labeled John and closed the door behind him and with it he hoped the emotions for this case. It was time to concentrate on his home work and he went to the temporary room that held the useless information. He flipped mindlessly through the book looking for a scene that he and John could update. He immediately went to chapter John suggested and groaned. It would be long enough technically. What bothered him however was the difficulty of updating it.

It was a simple chapter. And it was a small family party where the two protagonists bantered over each others faults. Making the language modern wouldn't be too much of a problem. No it was the reason they were there and why they were… oh! They called it flirting now days. It could work. Now why would they be thrown together like this…? In the book Elizabeth was staying with a friend. Now the friend wouldn't be friends with the de Bourghs. Charity case? No. But the husband was a cleric. Even today clerics were allowed anywhere.

The daughter of landed gentry being friends with a clergyman's wife would be welcome. But what was the modern equivalent? The problem the de Bourghs had with the protagonist was that though she was equal with them status wise but that her family wasn't rich. Her father's estate was to be given to the odious cousin on his demise.

Argh! Sherlock thought, frustrated. He would have to discuss it with John and see if he had any ideas. He exited his mind palace and went to find John. He tried their room first and heard a faint buzzing in the bathroom. He looked up at the clock and realized he had spent all of lunch and his last two classes thinking. He cursed and knew that he would have to apologize to his teachers.

"Sherlock? Is that you?" the buzzing had stopped and John poked his head out of the bathroom.

"Hey where did you go? Mr. Smily was pissed." Sherlock heard the clatter of the razor hitting the counter and John came out, with a worried expression on his face.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to. I was thinking about the case and I actually thought it was still lunch time. I'll go and make my amends. Though really there is nothing I will say that will make Mr. Smiley like me. And of course there's the fact that they still won't let us back into the stables. So I didn't miss that class technically."

John laughed. "Calm down. I'm not angry with you. I was just worried is all."

"I don't understand why." Sherlock complained.

"Because, yes I scared off Anderson and his cronies but I know schools there is never just gang of bullies. Some are far more devious in their bullying. I was worried one these may have caught you."

Sherlock shook his head.

"Well I'm glad. Are you and Victor going out tonight? I think Greg and Molly are going to see a movie and me and Mary-"

"Mary and I," Sherlock corrected absently.

John threw his pillow at him and Sherlock laughed.

"We are going to the new Italian restaurant." John finished and then ducked as the pillow took flight.

"Oi! I just brushed my hair!" John complained.

"Not as though anyone could tell the difference!" Sherlock snarked back. John broke into a grin and Sherlock was grinning too. Suddenly they were laughing.

"So you two anything?" John gasped once he had air to breathe.

"I'm not sure. We don't have anything planned at any rate." Sherlock shrugged.

"Okay. Well you two don't get into too much trouble, alright?" Sherlock nodded. He laid down on the bed and put his hands behind his head. He lay there a moment before he realized that he was suppose to be working on his homework with John. Damn! he cursed.

He got up and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Victor.

Roommate gone for the night. SH

:) mine too VT

Your place or mine? SH

hmm… rooming with the dorm head has taught me one thing and that's that even if he's not home people still come around for things VT

So my place it is. SH

;) see you soon VT

Sherlock grinned. He hadn't been lying to John when he said that when he was Victor there wasn't a lot of talking involved. They had far more interesting things to do with their time.

Sherlock opened the door before Victor had the chance to knock. Victor smiled.

"Someone's in a hurry." Victor chuckled. Sherlock mashed his lips against the older redhead's. He closed his eyes and drank in the scent of the older teen.

"You are the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me…" Sherlock murmured against his boyfriend's lips.

Victor laughed. "You must have had a horrible life to think I'm the most incredible thing that has happened to you." Sherlock stepped back. He looked to the floor. He felt Victor's hands grip his arms. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock didn't look up. "Oh sweetie," Victor cried and pulled his love into his arms. Sherlock just stood there breathing in the warmth of the older boy. Victor led him over to bed.

"Tell me about it Sherlock. I'm here for you." Sherlock just shook his head. It had been seven years and he still couldn't talk about it.

"Could you tell John?" Victor asked, trying to keep the bitterness from seeping through. Sherlock shook his head again.

"It's not something I talk about to anyone, Victor. I've tried. I just… I just can't." He sobbed into his lover's shoulder.

"Shh… it's okay. Sh… I've got you now." Victor pulled Sherlock onto his lap and let the youth cry silently. Victor usually didn't like messy relationships but when one is with Sherlock Holmes, messy is what your were dealt. He knew Sherlock had problems with bullying due to his intelligence and razor sharp personality. But what if it was more than that? What if Sherlock was different because of how he was raised? Victor could sympathize. He hadn't had the best life growing up, either.

"Were you jealous?" came the small voice on his lap.

Victor's mind first went to John and almost blurted out yes! but something cut him short.

"Of what?" he thought he better make sure he knew what Sherlock was talking about.

"Of how your father treated me?"

"Oh." Right. They were talking about their home life. Victor sighed. "Not of you in particular but to see him actually treat someone like that blew my mind. I didn't know he had it in him, to be honest."

"I'm sorry." Sherlock rarely uttered those two words and even rarer did he mean them. He meant them now.

"Why are we talking about me anyway?" Victor asked, chuckling.

"Well… John suggested that it wasn't appropriate that he knew about you than I did."

Victor raised his eyebrow. "You know what I have for breakfast, which horse I rode that morning, or which classes I have homework in just by glancing at me, how does he know me better than you do?"

"I didn't know anything about your family or anything like that before I met them."

"What do you need to know that for anyway? You aren't dating them, you're dating me. And you know what I like…" Victor purred. Sherlock's breath caught in his chest as those hazel eyes crept closer.

Sherlock felt the breath before he tasted the lips and he moaned. "I know exactly what you like." Sherlock breathed.

"Hmm… so show me…" Victor muttered. Sherlock proceeded to do just that. He pulled Victor on top of him and moaned into his ear. "Like this…"

"Oh yes…" Victor muttered. Sherlock slid his hands down Victor's sides causing the redhead to gasp. "Oh god!"

Sherlock smiled as he watched his lover come undone at such a simple touch. "I know you like that. You know what else you like?"

Victor's eyes were blown wide and he was panting, not able to answer. Sherlock chuckled. "You like this…" he took Victor's hands and placed them on his chest. Victor was gone. He began to undress his lover, placing a kiss on his lips every time he undid a button.

"Oh Victor!" Sherlock cried out.

When they finished, they were a tangled mess of arms and legs. Victor snuggled against Sherlock's chest.

"When is the roommate coming home?" Victor muttered into Sherlock's nipple. Sherlock cried out.

"Mm… ten I think…" Sherlock was having trouble thinking when Victor was naked in his arms.

"Hmm… what time is now?" Victor replied sleepily.

Sherlock looked at the alarm clock. "7:30."

Victor just nodded and dosed off. Sherlock smiled.