Consequences of Flirting (Teacher x Student)

Chapter 9 - Say Anything

"Just tell me,
Say anything,
Anything hurts less than the quiet."

- THE QUIET
Troye Sivan

The car pulled up.

Sherlock's car.

Sherlock's car pulled up outside Sherlock's flat.

Because eventually, I'd given in and agreed.

Which I was now beginning to regret.

As soon as the engine stopped, a tiny part of me hoped that the car had broken down or something. Okay, sure it sounds horrible, but hear me out. If his car had, for some miraculous, time-consuming reason, broken down, I'd have more time to both mentally and physically prepare myself for what I'd agreed to, because I clearly hadn't thought it through when I said yes. I'd agreed to going to my teacher's house. Surely that breaks some kind of student/teacher barrier? Not that making out in a supply cupboard didn't, of course. This relationship relied entirely on breaking barriers whilst simultaneously building more around ourselves to keep it safe.

Sherlock stepped out of the car leaving me to follow. Although I was understandably nervous as to what could be behind the door ahead of us, I somehow managed to keep my heartbeat under control, which was a first. Could you class that as progress?

Seemingly oblivious to how scared I was, Holmes unlocked the door led me up some stairs, presumably towards his flat. There didn't appear to be a lot of separate flats in this building, and I couldn't tell whether or not that was a good thing. I wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock was the only one living here. 

Speaking of Sherlock, I really wished he'd say something. The silence was oddly thick, slowly tightening around my neck so subtly that I barely noticed. It was like a gaping void, needing to be filled with sounds, words, anything at this point.  Perhaps he was just as nervous as me.

He pushed open the door. It was already unlocked, which confirmed my theory of the building being more or less empty. I stepped into the flat, my eyes instinctively scanning the room. It wasn't exactly dirty, nor was it particularly tidy, similar to what I had been expecting. There was a slight hint of dust on some surfaces, but I hadn't imagined him to be one to go around dusting like a maid. 

Now that was a mental image. 

His desk was covered in, what appeared to be unorganised, pieces of paper. I didn't take much notice of them, assuming they were something to do with the school. The opposite side of the room was equally as messy. The kitchen resembled his classroom, littered with scientific equipment, most of which I didn't understand. 

"Experiment?" I asked, my mouth involuntarily curling into a smile. Sherlock was such a nerd, inside and outside of school. 

"Mm..." Sherlock agreed, snaking his arms around my waist. He buried his head in the back of my neck, kissing the skin lightly, faintly making it clear that he only had one thing on his mind, and it wasn't science. 

I unhooked his arms and dragged him towards the kitchen, "Teach me." 

He rolled his eyes childishly, whining, "Jiiiiiim."

Chuckling softly, I turned to face him, my arms finding their way to the back of his neck. I placed a small kiss to his lips, savouring the taste.