To Be Like That Of A God

A Whole New Layer of Secrets

"How was your dinner tonight my Lord?" Victor wondered, glancing over at him quickly as if trying to predict his response just by the look on his face. Sherlock let his head fall back onto the rim of the bathtub with a heinous look on his face, running his wet hand through his curls and leaving them to droop damply across his clammy forehead.
"Did you not see?" Sherlock wondered, craning his neck to glance at Victor as the boy arranged himself on his little stool, the numerous bottles of shampoo cluttering the tiles at his feet.
"Did I see what?" Victor wondered as he very softly began to run his fingers through Sherlock's curls, wetting his fingers in the bath before pulling the moisture through Sherlock's hair with the delicacy that was always appreciated.
"Well I'm glad you do not know Victor, surely you would have been disgusted if you had witnessed it." Sherlock admitted in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling a repulsive gag begin to creep up his throat as the memory of Molly's kiss resurfaced in his mind. Victor's fingers tensed for a moment, and Sherlock could almost feel the sudden nervous tremors of his heart. Surely the worst possible scenario had jumped to Victor's mind, and yet Sherlock couldn't even pretend to guess what that might be.
"Was Mr. Watson being uncivilized?" Victor wondered as he finally lathered up his hands in shampoo and began to rub it into Sherlock's scalp, making Sherlock close his eyes in satisfaction. He always enjoyed Victor washing his hair, it was something of a guilty pleasure, another task he had his servant perform that was most likely looked down upon from the upper class point of view.
"No it wasn't John; oh in fact John's presence was just lovely. But no, the most memorable event was certainly my interaction with Ms. Hooper at the end of the night." Sherlock admitted heavily, quivering to the point where the water trembled under the layer of bubbles that surrounded him.
"Oh Ms. Hooper? I rather thought she might be pushed to the side after the arrival of Mr. Watson?" Victor guessed with a rather hopeful tone of voice.
"Are you suggesting they are substitutions for one another?" Sherlock wondered with a genuine sense of confusion.
"Oh no, no not at all my Lord. I just suspected that one may grow to...overshadow the other." Victor admitted, talking as if he had suspicions that he would like to be confirmed. Sherlock hummed disappointedly, shaking his head and accidently yanking on Victor's fingers that were still submerged in his tangled curls.
"No, in fact Victor, I kissed her." Sherlock admitted heavily, closing his eyes in horror and anticipating Victor's troubling response. Sherlock felt Victor's fingers fall away from his curls, falling as if he didn't even recognize the man whose hair he washed, and for a moment Sherlock couldn't hear so much as a breath from the boy that perched behind him.
"My Lord..." Victor whispered, the only two words that he could seem to force out of his gaping mouth. Sherlock hid his face behind his pruning hands, nodding in shame and trying to think of the best way to explain himself. Surely the way it had actually happened couldn't be explained, no the less people that knew about this whole suspected homosexuality (that's it, that's the word!) the better. Surely Sherlock couldn't have Victor wondering, surely he couldn't have him hoping...
"It wasn't like that Victor, she rather forced my hand. She accused me of not being in love with her, which of course I'm not, and then she accused me of, um, never going to fall in love. Ever. And so I tried to prove her wrong, it was a petty move but it seemed to work." Sherlock admitted.
"Oh my Lord how could you ever dare to lead that poor woman on like that? Surely she took your advances to be legitimate?" Victor whispered nervously, his fingers retuning to Sherlock's hair without moving whatsoever, almost as if he had gone paralyzed with surprise.
"I do not know what came over me Victor, every nerve in my body quivers in disgust, in repulsion, in regret! I should not have kissed her Victor, I wished my lips to stay untouched by any woman who proved to be unworthy and yet I have failed once again! Oh I wish I could erase the memories, erase these imperfections!" Sherlock exclaimed in a whining wail.
"Who do you wish your lips to be kissed by?" Victor wondered softly, making Sherlock's body go rigid once more. In a moment a face flashed into his mind and yet he quickly pushed it aside, no, he should not be thinking like that, especially not a time like this. Those thoughts, those speculations, they were sinful, they were preposterous!
"When I have that answer Victor, I will surely tell you." Sherlock promised with a rather glazed look in his eyes, his mind desperately trying to push away the strange sensation that had overcome him on the water front, with his feet in the ocean and his heart jumping from his chest.
"And what of John Watson? Did he prove to be a good guest?" Victor wondered, tapping Sherlock's head finally to signal for him to submerge his head under the water. Sherlock obediently took a deep breath and plunged himself under the bubbles, emerging with a gasp as he desperately tried to clear the stinging fumes and aromas from his eyes. When finally Sherlock rearranged himself on the rim of the bathtub he simply shrugged, thinking to the occurrences they had experienced, the conversation they had...
"He was like most other guests I suppose, with an added layer of interest that couldn't help but spark my curiosity." Sherlock admitted in a breath. Victor nodded in disappointment, his fingers brushing ever so carefully against Sherlock's hairline once more, touching gently against Sherlock's forehead as if by accident.
"Curiouser and curiouser I'm afraid." He agreed in a breath.