There Is Nothing Wrong With Me

Best Not Tempt Irony

"Are you alright?" John asked carefully, studying Sherlock's face like a concerned mother. Sherlock dropped his head cautiously, as if he didn't want John to study it too intensely, and smiled weakly.
"I'm uh, I'm fine. That's kind of what I came here to talk to you about." Sherlock admitted in a hushed voice. John nodded, taking one of Sherlock's hands lightly and looking over at Greg anxiously, hoping that he would get his cue to leave. Greg, who was now lingering near his bed, simply nodded, looking around for a moment before very nervously easing towards the door. It's obvious that he didn't think he should leave, however he had no choice in the matter. Way back when he had promised two favors, and this was both of them rolled up into one. The ultimate payback.
"Ya I'll just, I'll go. Go to Mike's. I guess." Greg decided after a moment's thought, smiling weakly before grabbing at the door and racing into the hallway. John heard the lock click behind him, pleasantly surprised to know that Greg was smart enough to make sure no one could get in after him. Sherlock took a sharp breath, looking around the room as if completely astounded by the beauty of the drab, boring walls and the unmade beds.
"It's not much." John admitted with a shrug, feeling a little bit ashamed at the state Sherlock saw his dorm. If he had known that Sherlock was coming he would've at least tried to tidy the place up a bit, however Sherlock seemed even more excited that it was a complete wreck.
"It's so much better than Lauriston, it's so much better than everything!" Sherlock exclaimed, as if mystified by everything he saw. He grabbed John's English book and sat down on top of his blanket, leaning against the wall in fascination and flipping through the pages quickly. He couldn't possibly be absorbing any of the information; however he seemed thoroughly entertained just by feeling the pages pass between his fingers.
"I never thought I'd see someone so excited about a boring old English book." John admitted with a sort of laugh, not daring to sit next to Sherlock just yet, should he suddenly want to jump back to his feet and marvel over John's dirty laundry, or crumpled up sheets of homework that sat messily on his desk.
"I miss it John, all of this. Wisteria is just, it was home." Sherlock admitted with a breath, dropping the book and smiling at John with an almost childlike excitement gleaming in his eyes.
"You only like it because you don't have to do any of its homework. You won't like it too much if you're in my shoes, with a big English test tomorrow on a book you never really read." John pointed out with a laugh.
"No I would still love it, simply because I would've read the book, and I would ace the test." Sherlock admitted with an almost taunting smile. John could only frown, wishing that a couple of months back, when he had been forced to read the book, he had Sherlock's sort of mentality. Maybe he would've at least attempted the introduction.
"Well certainly feel free to take the test for me, if you're some sort of expert on Great Expectations." John muttered carelessly, walking over to the bed and sitting down softly next to Sherlock, so that he was in arms' reach should he want to put his arm around the other boy's shoulders. Sherlock nodded, holding the book less excitedly in his hands as he tried to think of how to deliver his message effectively.
"Something happened, John, at school today. I had written you a note and was trying to deliver it to Molly but a jock, a bully, stole it out of my hands. He knows your name, and that you go to Wisteria, and that we're in contact. I'm scared that he's going to tell someone, a teacher or an adult maybe, and that they'll get in touch with the headmaster and you'll get expelled." Sherlock admitted heavily. John nodded gravely, staring blankly at the floor as he processed Sherlock's story.
"Does he know my last name?" John asked in a small voice.
"No, no only your first. But I'm worried that I just let out our secret, I'm worried..."
"What did he do to you? Your face?" John interrupted, turning so that he could observe the dangerously dark bruising that was surrounding Sherlock's nose. Sherlock ducked away shyly, as if he didn't want John to see the newly acquired deformities on his beautiful, flawless face.
"He punched me, in the nose. I passed out for a little while, but it's not broken, at least that's what the doctor said. I don't really believe him, it feels broken." Sherlock admitted with a small frown, poking softly at his nose as if expecting it to be cracked in half or something ridiculous.
"You defended your letter so much he had to punch you?" John asked with a laugh. Sherlock looked over curiously, as if expecting so much more from John, more panicking, more worrying. He probably wasn't expecting John to be so calm about this, that was for sure.
"Well, I tried to but I kind of, froze. He just punched me because he's rude." Sherlock admitted with a meek little laugh.
"He certainly is." John agreed with a little laugh. Sherlock sighed heavily, letting his head fall onto the wall in defeat.
"I look awful." He insisted hatefully. "All bruised and pale."
"You look beautiful Sherlock; you always look beautiful and tonight is no exception." John assured lovingly, taking Sherlock's hand in his own and smiling softly. Sherlock just shook his head, as if he didn't think he deserved this sort of loyal affection; however he certainly didn't do anything to stop it.
"You're too nice John." Sherlock insisted with a shy smile. John shrugged his shoulders carelessly, that was probably true of course, however it wasn't like he was making anything up to boost Sherlock's confidence. What he said was true, however nice it might sound.
"Why'd you come up here Sherlock?" John wondered after a moment, running his fingers over Sherlock's palm in a therapeutic sort of way. Sherlock looked at him curiously, as if wondering what kind of question that was supposed to be.
"Well I just told you, didn't I? Our secret might be out." Sherlock pointed out obviously, with a legitimate look of confusion in his eyes. John just rolled his eyes, however, easing closer and not taking that pathetic excuse as an answer.
"And so you run here, to the only place you're jeopardizing us both just by being present?" John wondered with a laugh. "If our secret might be out why are you so anxious to prove them all right by being in such close proximity? I could've talked my way out of it, but I certainly can't if you're sitting here on my bed."
"I'm sorry, I could leave, if...if that's what you want me to do." Sherlock whimpered weakly, looking at John nervously as if immediately assuming that the solution to all of this was simply to go away. John, however, just laughed, holding his hand firmly so that he couldn't escape if he wanted to.
"I don't want you to leave Sherlock, I'm just wondering what else you came here for." John admitted. Sherlock went rather red, looking as he wasn't expecting to be confronted so directly. He knew exactly what John was talking about, however his modesty made him clam up in confrontation.
"What else is there?" Sherlock wondered nervously. John just laughed, shrugging his shoulders as if he had no idea even as he put his hand on Sherlock's neck, pulling him ever closer all while keeping his face at a taunting sort of distance. So close yet so far. He could feel Sherlock tense up, anxiously, hopefully, and his suspicions were confirmed.
"I think you came here just for me. For this solitude, for this empty room." John admitted with a little smile. Sherlock blushed once more, shaking his head as much as he could while still leaning into John's hand, trying to lean closer all while John was slowly leaning away, teasingly.
"I didn't come here for that." Sherlock whispered in a very unconvincing tone, a very desperate tone, simply breaths forcing out syllables one at a time as John got closer and closer.
"No?" John asked with a doubtful smile.
"No." Sherlock answered flatly. John nodded in agreement, shrugging his shoulders and pulling away finally, letting Sherlock's hand drop back onto the blankets as if he was fully prepared to leave him.
"Well alright then, if you don't want to." John shrugged carelessly.
"No!" Sherlock exclaimed almost desperately, breathing so heavily that John was almost scared he was hyperventilating. "No I want...don't leave." Sherlock added desperately. John simply laughed; this had been exactly what he had been expecting. So he didn't leave, he didn't say anything at all. He simply leaned back over, easing Sherlock down to the blankets so that he could hover over top of him, watching as the poor boy's eyes widened in fascinated horror. Sherlock looked beautiful, despite the bruises all along his face he looked almost angelic, his face so pale that he glowed in the soft lamp light.
"Whatever happens Sherlock, I won't leave you." John promised quietly, pushing Sherlock's bangs off of his face lovingly. Sherlock couldn't seem to respond, he couldn't do anything except move his lips as if he were trying to speak, but couldn't. No sound would come out. And so John didn't wait for his response, he wasn't going to torture this boy any longer, he wanted to be closer, he wanted to be together. As they were supposed to be. So he pressed a soft kiss onto Sherlock's lips, letting the boy press his head even farther into the blankets, as if he was trying to escape all while trying to pull John closer at the same time. It was risky, well of course it was risky; however it was worth it, was it not? It seemed that now, despite the risk, this was the only time and only place to truly be together as one. Wisteria was the only place where John could kiss Sherlock more passionately than he had ever attempted before, where he could pull the boy closer and pull his fingers through his tangled curls, where he could say so many things without so much of a mutter. This was destined to happen, right here, right now, this was what Sherlock really came for.