There Is Nothing Wrong With Me

Casanovas Face the Consequences

John raced up the grassy hill towards Wisteria, knowing full well that all it took was a teacher preparing for class to look out their window and expel him on the spot. The building was obviously alive, there were some lights on in the windows and he could see figures moving around behind shut blinds, changing most likely. Thankfully the rope still swung securely out the designated window and with a quick tug John tested to make sure that it was still fasted correctly to the bedpost inside. When the rope didn't budge he carefully grabbed hold, slowly starting his way up the several story climb with an aching back and an arm that still hadn't gained full feeling. It was definitely the worst climb he'd ever had in his life, a couple of times his shoes, still damp and muddy, slipped out from underneath him and he had to cling desperately to the rope to avoid falling to his death. However finally, by some miracle, he reached the window ledge and carefully pulled himself inside, flopping like a seal on top of the ledge and finally falling face first onto the hardwood floor below.
"You made it." Greg's voice said with a triumphant laugh, and John looked up with a throbbing nose to see his roommate longing on his bed carelessly. John groaned miserably, rolling onto his back in relief and messaging his poor face full of dust and splinters.
"I need to shower." John muttered anxiously, pulling himself to his feet and rushing around the room, trying to find his clothes and soaps and shampoos.
"You have exactly..." Greg paused, looking at his watch and doing the mental math, "Twenty one minutes. Make it fast." Greg warned, and John nodded. He took up his clothes in his arms and smiled rather pathetically at Greg as he raced out the door, his shoes leaving a trail of mud along the carpet as he raced along the corridor. He could almost swear he heard Greg's laughing even as he made his way into the bathroom, as though that mockery was following him even while out of ear shot. Nevertheless he raced into one of the shower stalls and ripped of his wet, stinking clothes, showering to the best and quickest of his abilities and struggling to pull on fresh clothes all while drying his hair with his towel. Then (that could only have been eight minutes, maybe nine) he sprinted back down the hallway barefoot, his feet leaving respective wet marks upon the carpet so that anyone who so much as walked along the hallway could see whatever story that was trying to be told through the mud and shower water. When John finally arrived back in his room he saw that Greg, being the kind hearted soul he was, had left him a stack of toast wrapped in some napkins on his pillow as a sort of makeshift breakfast.
"Greg you're a life saver!" John exclaimed, grabbing a piece of toast and munching on it while he arranged his backpack for the day. His homework had all thankfully been done, and finally he was starting to feel like he wasn't rushing as much as he had to.
"Where on earth have you been John? You looked like you had just lost a fight with a tree." Greg observed curiously, leaning against the wall and letting his feet dangle off the edge of his bed.
"I was down by the stream, Sherlock recommended it." John admitted rather thoughtlessly as he rummaged around under his bed for his chemistry book.
"So you were just splashing around for, I don't know, eight hours or so?" Greg wondered with a suspicious laugh. John sighed heavily, finally unearthing his book in his pile of dirty laundry (ew) and stuffing it into his backpack carelessly.
"We fell asleep." John admitted, jumping back on top of his bed and starting on his second piece of toast. Greg just smiled at him, raising his eyebrows at certain intervals of silence, as if begging to hear more.

"Oh did you now?" he wondered suggestively.
"Oh would you shut up, we didn't...no Greg we didn't do anything!" John defended, although his cheeks turned very red at the very thought.
"So you did nothing? You went down there to the stream, with the love of your life and your obsession, and simply fell asleep?" Greg guessed with a look of disappointment, as if he had thought he could count on John recalling every little detail of his encounter simply for Greg's amusement.
"No I mean, define something..." John muttered rather moodily, crossing his arms and trying to look as intimidating as he could all while having toast crumbs sticking to the corners of his lips.
"Anything remotely intimate." Greg decided quickly, as though he had already defined 'something' a long time ago. John sighed heavily, shrugging and yet feeling his cheeks glow at the very thought of their river romantics.
"Well, it was freezing down there, obviously, and he didn't want to go in, so I kind of tricked him I guess. It was cruel, on my apart, but I pretended that I was going to kiss him so that I could get close and then I picked him up and threw him into the stream." John admitted with a laugh. Greg burst out into laughter as well, kicking his feet against the edge of his bed to show his enthusiasm.
"And he didn't break up with you?" he asked in amazement, and John just shook his head proudly.
"No of course not. And we kind of just splashed around, there was a rope swing and stuff...it was actually pretty fun." John admitted with a small smile.
"Oh come on John, I see that blush, something else happened, come on this is our deal ya? You do all the romantic stuff and I hear all about it because I'm your dearest friend." Greg insisted proudly, holding himself higher as if trying to insist on his sincerity and trustworthiness. John just groaned, feeling as though it wasn't right to recite all of the occurrences down in the water. However it was kind of their deal, they were always one hundred percent honest with each other whenever the other had the miracle of getting a date, and it was only fair that he fill Greg in on everything that happened. Besides John was quite sure that Molly and Sarah would magically know everything that had happened when Sherlock saw them again.
"Okay well, I mean...we kind of kissed, in the stream a little bit." John admitted with a slight smile. Greg knew there was more because he made that little noise of knowingness, egging John to continue his story.
"There's more, come on Johnny." He insisted anxiously. John sighed heavily, leaning his head against the wall and busying himself with his third piece of toast.
"It wasn't much I mean, he just kind of, you know, well he tried to take off my shirt. But do you remember what Victor said in the hallway?" John wondered with a bit of a frown, staring at his toast without much of an appetite. Greg's face suddenly fell, looking at the door as if fully prepared to run out of his and beat Victor up if need be.
"Something about Sherlock taking what he wants, right? But that's rubbish John, surely you didn't..." he muttered, looking at John with a gasp. "You stopped?" he exclaimed horrifically.
"I had to stop, I didn't know what to do he kind of, well I wasn't expecting it, that's all. And then I remembered Victor's warning and I got so caught up in what Sherlock may or may not have done that I forgot about what he was going to do and I kind of just, I got carried away." John admitted in a pouty sort of voice. Greg sighed heavily, leaning against the wall as if he was suddenly very disappointed in John's lack of initiative.
"That's pretty lame John. And you know that now he's going to be all nervous around you now, right? Like you have to initiate everything." Greg reminded him with a frown. John sighed heavily, however it was all he could do but shrug.
"It's alright, like we got over it but still...we spent the rest of the night lying in the grass, covered in his coat because it was the only thing that was still dry, and we kind of just talked about stars until we fell asleep." John admitted. Now that he told Greg he realized just how lame his whole excursion sounded, and by the look on Greg's face he wasn't amused either.
"Woah Romeo, slow down there, looking at stars, are you sure you didn't get him pregnant?" Greg asked sarcastically, keeping a scowl on his face all the while he pretended to show enthusiasm.
"Greg come on, I don't need to be all...ehh... with Sherlock to have fun. I just like being with him." John admitted with a bit of a pout, finishing off the last of his toast and staring longingly out the window.
"And I respect that, totally John that's like a class A healthy relationship but still, are you sure Sherlock's satisfied with that?" Greg wondered curiously. John shrugged hopelessly, who honestly knows what goes on in that brain of his?
"I think he's just happy to be with me as well. I don't think he minds what form that companionship takes." John admitted finally. That was the truth, too. There was no doubt in his mind that Sherlock loved even the idea of John, the promise of his presence, over whatever romantic situations Greg was trying to enforce. There would be a time and a place and yet right now, when they were still but teenagers on their third date, didn't that seem a bit premature? Kissing was fine but whatever was beyond that was a red flag, it meant that it was more of a physical love than an emotional one, and all John wanted right now was a heart that was capable of loving him for as long as he lived. And if to find a life partner he had to splash around in streams and gaze at stars well then of course it would be worth it! It was pure, innocent; it was romantic in its own spiritual way.
"Well then Casanova, we ought to get to class. Your hair is still wet, nerd." Greg added in his moody little tone as he hopped off of his bed and grabbed his backpack from where it sat in a little bundle on the floor. John mimicked him, putting on his shoes and wiping the last of the toast crumbs off of his bed before following Greg anxiously out of the door.