Lonely, loved, betrayed.

Redbeard and rum

Week one, day 1. 

Sherlock didn't say anything at breakfast, but he did eat. It wasn't until Mycroft got to the front of the mess hall that Sherlock showed any emotion. 

"Kids, settle down! I'd like to announce that the first two days of camp, today and tomorrow-"

"No duh!" said Sherlock, which earned him a glare.

"Will be days to get to know the camp and some of the students. Then, we will have daily camp activities on all days except for Saturday and Sunday. Those days will be your only free time days, unless it's said so otherwise. Also, all students must be in their cabins by ten, and asleep in their own bunks by eleven, and wake up at seven. Continue your breakfast and then do as you wish." he waved his hand, as if dismissing all the students, and walked away. It took only a minute before the mess hall was full of chatter again.

"Sherlock, are you-" John began.

"Yes, I'm fine." he said as he got up to leave. John couldn't help but wonder what was bothering Sherlock, or, better yet, why he cared so much. He'd only known the boy for two days, but he already cared about him more than he cared for almost anyone else. He sighed as he got up to follow Sherlock.

"Sherlock!" he panted when he finally caught up to him. Due to his long legs, John had to practically run to keep up with him. "Sherlock, what's bothering you?"

"You!" when he saw the hurt look on Johns face, he sighed. "I mean, I've never had friends before. I don't know what I'm doing." 

"You've never had friends before?" 

"No, the closest thing I've had to a friend is my Brother and-" he sighed, shaking his head.

"And what?" they stopped walking.

"My- my dog, Redbeard." he smiled at the memory of his beloved dog.

"Tell me about Redbeard?" 

"I found him when I was little, probably five or six, and when I brought him home, my dad tried to make me take him to the pound, but after a few hours of crying and yelling, my mother finally convinced him that Redbeard would be just what I needed." he began walking again, this time at a much slower pace to it was a lot easier to keep up with him. "I had him for nearly a year when, one day I came home from school and-" they sat down in this field full of weeds and wild flowers next to a small pond. "he was just, just gone. Looking back now, I realize that Mycroft probably took him to the pound. He hated that dog. He- he didn't even let me say goodbye. From that day on, I never had a friend. I didn't want any, especially Mycroft. He ruined my childhood with things like that."

"Sherlock." John whispered after a few moments of silence. "Sherlock, can I- I mean, will you let me be your friend?" Sherlock looked to John, and unreadable emotion crossing his eyes as he searched for words, anything, to say to John. 

"John, I- I don't really know how a friendship works. Not with a human at least." he sighed. "John, my dear, sweet John. I'll only hurt you."  

"It's easy, Sherlock!" he grinned, and Sherlock couldn't help but grin back. "I'll teach you." They spent the rest of the day together walking around, talking about anything. John told Sherlock about how he wanted to become an army doctor, and how his father would beat him and his mom, and how he fell in love once, but it ended badly. Sherlock told John how one day he was going to be the worlds only consulting detective, and how he never once has fallen in love, and that he labeled himself asexual because of it. When it was starting to get dark, they walked back to the cabin.

"Hey! John, Sherlock! I've been lookin' for you! Come have a bonfire with us!" Greg yelled. They both followed Greg to the beach where there was group of kids around a bonfire. John knew most of them, aside from Greg, Molly and Sally, there was Oliver, the school druggie, Sam, the jock who bullied literally everyone, even his girlfriend Hailey, who was a quiet shy girl on the cheerleading team and Cassandra, who was a Gothic girl that never stopped talking once she got the chance to, but only liked Molly and Hailey. He sat next Molly, and Sherlock sat next to him. After a few minutes of mindlessly chatting, Oliver brought out a bottle of rum.

"Wanna drink?" he laughed.

"How did you-" Molly began, before Oliver pressed his fingers to his lips.

"We could make it into a game of truth or dare. If you can't tell the truth or do a dare, you have to drink." Cassandra suggested. They all agreed, even Molly, and began. After about an hour, most everyone was drunk, except for John and Cassandra. It was currently Greg turns, who was the most drunk out of all of them. 

"Shhh'lock! Truth er dare?" he slurred.

"Hmmm, dare." he managed to say. 

"Okay, okay okay okay." Sally pulled Greg close and whispered something in his ear, to which he sat there and laughed. "Sh'lock, I dare you to-" hiccup "kiss John!" all this kids couldn't help but laugh at this. Well, everyone except for John, who looked like a kid getting yelled at by his parents.

"You mean, like, on the lips?" Sherlock said over the laughter. Greg nodded his head and laughed harder. He looked at John, his normally clear blue eyes now glossed over with alcohol, and gave him a questioning look before leaning in. "I got this." he whispered.

"Shit. Shit shit shit. Don't do it Sherlock! Don't-" Sherlock grabbed Johns face and smashed his lips onto his in a sloppy way one would expect from a drunk man. John noted the way he tasted, sour from the rum, but also like apples and grapes from the make-shift lunch they had. He noted the way Sherlock's head moved from side to side as his sloppy kisses continued, and how he kept pulling their bodies closer, and then, just as soon as it happened, it ended, leaving both of them panting. Everyone was silent for a while before Molly broke the silence.

"It's almost time to go into our cabins. We should head back now so we don't get caught." everyone only nodded and began to put out the fire and hide the now empty bottle of rum and walked to their cabins. No one spoke as they walked, and Sherlock kept stumbling so John supported him as they walked into their rooms. 

"You'll never be able to make it onto your bed, so sleep in mine." he said as he closed the door and headed to his bag for some pajamas. 

"John, that- that's so sweet of you!" he collapsed on the bed and soon began to snore. 

"Bloody hell, Sherlock. Why'd you have to kiss me like that?" he changed and climbed up the latter onto Sherlock bed.