Coffee

Chapter 4

"You're breaking up with me."

Although the second bloke in the party was facing the opposite way to John, he could easily work out who it was. He gaped as he watch the head lower to rest on the owner's hands. He could recognise those curls anywhere.

Suddenly, he felt like he was witnessing a severely private moment. For all of the times he'd eavesdropped on these situations, none affected him more than the one playing out in front of him.

"It's not-"

A pang of guilt rattled John's whole body. He'd have never flirted with Sherlock if he'd have known he had a boyfriend. How could he have been so blind? Was that why Sherlock was so moody whenever he tried?

"It's not what?" Sherlock spat. "Working out? It's not convenient for you? What?"

John wanted to sink into the shadows. For all the times Sherlock had been angry at him, this was nothing for what he was now. His voice was thick with malice, but the hurt stood out the most. John could feel his stomach drop. If not for watching the ending of what was clearly once a very one-sided relationship, then for the fact that it was the guy he'd been taunting participating in the whole ordeal. Especially as was now evident that he knew it had been coming.

"Sherlock..." The opposite man said, and a sudden hatred rose in John's stomach. How dare he break up with a person such as Sherlock? Did he know what he was doing?

"No, Victor. What is it?"

Victor (John made a mental note of his name), leaned forward, wrapping his hands around the coffee cup that John had served him only a few minutes beforehand.

"Look, I appreciate the help you gave me with my Dad, I really do." Sherlock leaned back on his chair, folding his arms. "But I can't do this."

John wanted to punch him. He didn't know what Sherlock's lack of response meant, but he didn't like it.

"You're not- Sherlock, please look at me." Victor reached across, undoubtedly to lift Sherlock's chin away, but Sherlock pulled away before he had the chance. Suddenly, Victor flushed red.

"This is what I mean. You're too difficult. You're stubborn. I don't care if your parents don't mind the experiments you do; I almost threw up when I found that finger in your fridge."

Across the room, John snorted, and then ducked quickly into one of the seats in case they heard him.

"You're temperamental. I can't decide if you're just beyond everyone else's intelligence or just plain rude. Like I said, I really do appreciate the help with my Dad. But you're weird, Sherlock. I can't deal with knowing that you know what I've been up to, with your deductions-"

Sherlock cut across him, back to facing him now.

"Like that time you came round drunk, stinking of your ex-girlfriend's perfume and I deduced that you'd been letting her suck your dick? Please," He scoffed, slouching further down in his chair. His voice was at a low mutter now, so much so that John had to strain to hear. "You had her lipstick all over your face. Even an idiot could have worked out what had happened."

If John had believed he couldn't feel more guilty, he was quickly learning that he was wrong. Sherlock had been cheated on, and yet he still stayed with Victor. He wanted to wring his neck and tell him to turn it around and dump Victor before he dumped him.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me." John almost stumbled backwards as Victor started yelling. A few people turned around, trying to find the source of the shout. Sherlock meanwhile shrunk further into his seat, and John could clearly see why he'd stayed. Victor was advancing on Sherlock, and John had had enough.