Reasons

Chapter 2: The Party

We had stayed in the clearing for another hour or so, until Sherlock declared he was bored, stood up and marched off, leaving me to scramble after him.
Eventually I ended up losing sight of him, so I decided to go back to the dorm. When I got to Baker Hall, there were flyers posted on every door for a party to kick off the school year at a student owned house in town. I thought that it might be a good way to get to know more people so I toke down a flyer and headed toward 221B.
Sherlock wasn't there, so I decided to finish the reading I was supposed to have ready for the start of class. About two hours later, the dorm door opened and Sherlock strolled in, carrying, what looked like, miscellaneous junk. He plopped his objects on to his desk with little care, then strolled over to his bed.
"What's this?" He asked, noticing the party flyer.
"Oh it's a flyer for a,"
"I know what it is, why is it here?" He interrupted. I opened my mouth to answer him, but he butted in before I had the chance.
"You don't expect me to go, do you?"
"Not if you don't want to, I was just thinking it might be fun."
"Oh," he groaned as he flung himself onto his bed.
"Oh?"
"Will its just if you go, I'll be here by myself all night."
"What's the matter with that?"
"What if I get bored?"
"You can play with all your junk, you just lugged in." I laughed.
"It's not junk it's an experiment! And what if I get bored of that?"
"I don't know! Watch Telly?"
"All of the shows are stupid!"
"Well I'm going to the party, so I guess you will just have to deal with it, Sherlock."
"Sometimes when I'm bored, I shoot things."
"What!?" He had my full attention now.
"Not living things! Obviously, but things like walls."
He was acting as if this was a perfectly normal past time.
"Well I hope you don't have a gun on you, but I'm not taking any chances with my security deposit, so your coming with me to the party."
"What? No I don't want to!"

---

Sherlock and I stood near one of the walls. Around us people were dancing, talking and drinking. There was pulsing music and black lights. The only thing about the party that wasn't fun, was us.
Sherlock was absolutely miserable, he was completely out of his element. I wanted to go socialize but I didn't have the heart to leave him in the corner alone looking like a lost puppy.
"Can we leave yet, John?"
"We've hardly been here for an hour!"
"Is that a no, then?"
"Are you really that uncomfortable?"
He replied by looking away.
"I'll be right back," I said and his eyes grew in terror.
"What!? You can't leave me alone!"
"I'll be right back," I walked over to the table with the drinks and poured him some kind of fruity vodka mixture. I walked back over to him and handed him the cup.
"Drink this, it's punch."
Sherlock toke a sip and spit it out,
"What kind of punch is that? It taste horrible!"
"Sherlock, just drink it, doctor's orders."
He rolled his eyes and mumbled "You're not a doctor yet." But he reluctantly downed the punch.
About half an hour later Sherlock was on the dance floor and I was trying to find someone interesting to talk to. No one was as interesting as Sherlock, I was beginning to regret helping him loosen up. With no luck finding anyone capable of intelligent conversation, I walked out on the dance floor to join Sherlock.
"Hello Jawn!"
"Hey,"
"Ya know that punch you gave me was really good! I had six more cups!"
"You what!?"
"Why aren't you dancing? You should dance on the dance floor!" He grabbed my hands and flayed them around well I tried to continue talking.
"Sherlock have you ever drank before?"
"Of course Jawn! Don't be so stupid! If you don't consume liquid you dye! As a doctor you should know these things!"
"No I mean alcohol, have you ever had alcohol before?"
"Of course I have! I had a glass of champagne at my cousin's wedding."
"That's all! Oh bloody hell!"
"I'm gonna go get some more punch!"
"No Sherlock, come on, your coming with me."
I grabbed his hand and started walking towards the door.
"Oh are we going to your office, doctor?"
"No we are going back to the dorm. I have a feeling you're about to get sick."
"Well if I'm sick I should go to the doctor's" He smirked. "Come on!"
He pulled me away from the main door and down a hallway. He was much stronger then I expected him to be.
"Sherlock where are we going?"
"To your office,"
"Sherlock I don't have an office, I'm not a doctor yet. Let's just go home."
He turned a corner and opened the door to a closet. He dragged me in behind him and closed the door.
"Sherlock what are we doing?"
"I have a doctor's appointment," suddenly Sherlock's lips were on my own. They were so soft but tasted like liquor, and then they were gone from my mouth and on my neck. Suckling and devouring it, I heard him mumble into me "I want you so badly," but his speech was just mumbled because he was in the midst of giving me a hickey. I was really shocked, considering I thought he was straight, but I gained some composure and pushed him off.
"Sherlock your drunk!"
"I am not! I haven't touched any alcohol!"
"The punch Sherlock, the punch was made with vodka! I assumed you knew that!"
"Oh so this was your plan all along, get me drunk and have your way with me?"
"What! No! Of course!"
"Well it should have been!" He laughed and started kissing me again. It was fierce and hungry. Our tongues battled for control, and he pushed me against the wall.
"Sherlock,"
He pulled at my jumper.
"You're wasted."
His lips moved to my jaw and then down my neck.
"You are not thinking straight,"
Sherlock stopped and looked at me. His lips came millimeters away from mine. "You are completely correct John. I'm not thinking straight at all, I hate thinking straight! My preferences are much more curvy."
His lips thrashed into mine once again, and his hands snaked it's way to my belt loop. His thumb moved along my skin as he got closer to the button of my trousers. A small moan escaped my throat. He undid the top button and began to kiss downward again except this time he didn't stop at my neck. He planted teasing kiss down to the rim of my pants. I had to stop him, he was drunk and this wasn't right. Just as he was about to pull down my pants and I was about to stop him, he threw up all over me.