Dorm 221B

Chapter Six

Sarah's door was flung open as soon as she heard John's loud bang.

''John! Jesus, what's wrong?''

He stormed in past Sarah, anger rolling off him in waves. ''Sherlock! That's what's wrong!''

She eyed John warily, then shut the door with a soft click. ''What did he do?''

John turned to Sarah, licking his lips. He smiled, trying to contain his anger. ''Sherlock, he...he said some things about you.''

Sarah felt an anger curl inside her,and with no hesitation, she walked over to her phone. She tapped out a text, then turned back to John. ''So, you know that I threatened him?''

John stopped, his heaving chest stilling and he stared at his girlfriend with the most hurt expression he could muster. ''He was telling the truth?''

She barked a laugh, a crisp, cold sound, ''What else was I going to do?! He so obviously fancied you, but you. Are. Mine.''

John gaped at her, then laughed in disbelief. ''You don't own me. You never have! And, you have never had any right to make Sherlock hide his feelings! How could you do that?! You already know how difficult he finds them!''

''I don't fucking care!'' She screamed. ''He's a fucking freak-''

''Freak.'' John mumbled. Oh God, he had been so horrible to him. He didn't realize how hard that must have been for Sherlock to tell him.

She walked up to John and cupped his cheek. ''Yes, babe. He's a freak.''

John looked at her with fiery eyes and he jerked his head back sharply. ''Sarah, we are completely and entirely through.'' 

She blinked at him, then turned angry again. ''Why are you such a selfish dick?!''

John let out a booming laugh and stepped towards the door. ''Well, you are completely mad. How did I not see that?''

She made a frustrated growl. ''Just get out! Run along to that stupid boyfriend, who...'' She looked at the clock on the wall. ''...Should be getting kicked in the head right about now.''

John wasted no time in feeding off his anger on Sarah, and he tore from the room.

Fifteen minutes later, John stumbled into their dorm, out of breath, his face red. The door had been wide open, with a clear view of Sherlock picking himself up off the kitchen floor. He used the table, leaning on it heavily with shaking arms. His shirt was ripped and his lip was bleeding. He had a bruise forming over his right eyebrow and he looked pretty shaken.

A small crowd had formed outside their door, and John slammed it shut,clicking locked, before rushing over to help Sherlock up.

''Oh, God. Oh my God, I'm so sorry!''

Sherlock gave a grunt and glanced at John. He leaned against the table with his left hand, his right; wrapped around his middle.

''Ahh, John.'' He recognized him in a weak voice. ''It's good to see you've come to your senses.''

''I am so sorry. I-I can't believe-''

''How much of an idiot you've been? Yes. Quite, but I do believe you are medically trained. Can you help me out here?''

John nodded dumbly, his hands going around Sherlock's waist to help him over to his bed. Sherlock sat down with a huff of breath.

John quickly set to work, dabbing blood away and putting cream on potential bruises. A heavy silence hung in the room. Neither knew if they should approach the subject of Sherlock's revealed feelings. Also, John felt so dreadfully guilty. He didn't know how to begin apologizing...but now was a good time to try.

''Sherlock...I can't believe...'' He sighed, putting the cloth down on the bed beside Sherlock. ''You have no idea how sorry-''

''No, I do.'' Sherlock answered, not looking at John's face. ''I know how guilty you feel. I know that you are genuinely sorry too.''

''I am. I am so sorry, and you are not a freak.''

Sherlock looked at John now. ''Thank you.'' he smiled a little. ''And, I do forgive you. Of course I do.''

John relaxed a bit, but he still felt discomfort within himself. It had still all happened. Sherlock sighed and stood, discarding the used cloth in the bin by his bed. 

''We should go to the Head. This needs to be reported.'' Sherlock mumbled, tugging at his ripped shirt.

''We'll do that in the morning.'' John replied, standing up beside Sherlock.

''Why not now? I'm fine. It doesn't hurt much.''

John licked his lips nervously. ''No, because now...Well, now...''

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. ''Now, what? I-''

Sherlock was cut off by John pressing his lips against his own. His eyes widened in shock and he pulled back.

John stared up at him, ears tinged red. ''I-I'm sorry!''

''No! No, that was...Fine.'' He cleared his throat and pointed at his mouth. ''Just...my lip.''

''Oh.'' John responded. ''...Can we still kiss anyway?''

''Oh, yes, please.'' Sherlock answered hurriedly, pulling John back to kiss him. He blocked out the small pinch of pain he felt and wound his arms around John's waist.

John kissed back hungrily, hands tangling into those luscious curls. He had felt it the first night, when they had kissed, and he was feeling it again. Oh, he'd been an idiot, because this was amazing. This was what felt right.

Sherlock kept John close, kissing the lips he had dreamt about for so many, many nights. He felt John start to push him back until his back hit the wall. He opened his mouth against John's, giving him access to deepen the kiss.

John's hands moved down to Sherlock's hips, and he gently palmed against him once with his hand. Sherlock gave a small jump and broke the kiss.

''Wait, what?'' He looked down between them, then back up quickly. ''Really?''

John drew his hand back, blushing from embarrassment. ''We don't have to. Sorry.'' he mumbled.

Sherlock gulped, John still close to him, lips only centimetres from his own. ''No, I just...didn't think you'd want to.''

John blushed harder and he looked at Sherlock. ''I'm game...You?''

Sherlock looked at John a moment, then pulled him closer. ''Most definitely.'' Sherlock answered eagerly, kissing John once again as they stumbled back to bed in each others arms.