bright college days

8

Sherlock took a breath.

"There was... a girl, Irene. Our age; she was a member of the bride's family, and..." his fingers shook a bit. He clasped his hands together. "She kept making these... faces at me. I didn't think much of it... but then, after the wedding, during the reception..." Sherlock got up. He walked over to his window, resting his head against the pane. "I don't... like being in large groups of people for very long, so I went to an anteroom. Irene came in... I didn't think anything about it until..." Sherlock let out a slow, shaky breath. "She sat next to me... she talked a little; I mostly ignored it, it was just... stupid stuff. Then she pulled her chair closer. She put her hand... on my thigh. It was... uncomfortable. Then she... she kissed me. It was..." Sherlock let out a shudder. "I hated it. There were three boys and another girl there, and they were laughing and..." Sherlock shuddered again. "I... I went back into the ballroom... it was preferable to... that."

"You're... upset that a girl hit on you?"

Sherlock let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you don't understand..."

"So explain it to me," said John.

"I'm not... interested."

"Oh! You're gay."

Sherlock shook his head. "Idiot."

"Well if not that, what? I want to understand, Sherlock, but you need to explain, not just lash out."

Sherlock walked back over. He sat on the bed again.

"I'm not interested. At all."

"With... anyone?"

"Exactly."

An incredulous smirk grew across John's face and he said "So... what, you're asexual? Like a slug?"

"A slug?!" Sherlock jumped his feet. "Oh, God, you... you ignorant, immature..." Sherlock looked away. "I should have known better. I thought you were my friend; I thought maybe you would understand, or at least try to be understanding! But you're... you're no better than those... those stupid twats at the wedding, laughing at whole thing because apparently it's funny when a woman assaults a man!"

John had gotten to his feet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, "Sherlock, I... you're right, I'm ignorant, I... I've never met anyone who wasn't interested in sex, and... I was stupid. I'm sorry."

There was a pause.

"Slugs aren’t asexual."

"Pardon?"

Sherlock turned to John, "Slugs aren’t asexual, they're hermaphroditic."

"Oh... oops..." John blushed sheepishly. Then he smiled; he rather liked when Sherlock showed off his intelligence. Something else struck him about what Sherlock had said.