Chapter Text
"Is that...pot?"
"Yeah, problem?"
"No... Just new."
"You've never smoked before?" Sherlock said, pulling the seal on the plastic bag apart.
"Um, no. It's not really something that's ever come up, you know?"
"Well, now it has."
Sherlock rolled the joint with expert fingers. He put the end in his mouth and lit it with a purple plastic lighter. He took a drag, and after a second, exhaled. The smoke had a putrid stench, and John almost coughed. Sherlock put his hand out and offered John the joint.
"Want to try?"
John took the joint between his thumb and first finger. He watched the remaining smoke from Sherlock's mouth curl up towards the sky. He was hesitant.
"It's easy. Just grip it in your lips and inhale," Sherlock said with reassurance.
John placed the joint between his lips and sucked in the smoke. It burned his throat and lungs and he quickly pulled it away, sputtering. Sherlock chuckled and plucked the joint from John's hands.
"It's not for everyone," he purred, sucking more of the drug into his body. John watched him, his nose crinkled at the bridge. He felt young and immature when he wasn't able to keep up with Sherlock, despite him being two years older and he didn't like it.
"Let me try again," he said with a scowl, determined to hold the smoke down in his lungs this time. Sherlock handed him the burning joint and John placed it in his lips for a second time. He could feel the heat of the smoke curling into his mouth. He braced himself as he sucked in. He held his breath... and smiled to himself when he fought the tickling urge to cough. He let the smoke trail out of his nose and his mouth, enjoying the way Sherlock's lips curled up in satisfaction and a hint of pride. John felt the high almost instantly, enjoying the way his brain went fuzzy and any pain he was previously feeling went numb. He took another drag and let his head fall back as he exhaled the smoke. Handing the joint back to Sherlock, he unfolded his legs and stood up. He walked over the the radio and turned it on. Bobbing his head and taking his steps to the strong beat that poured out of the speakers, he made his way back over to where Sherlock was sat cross legged on the floor of his dorm.
"I don't know this song," Sherlock commented, passing the joint to John.
"Arctic Monkeys," John said, sucking in the drug. Sherlock said nothing, revelling in the moment.
Have you got colour in your cheeks?
Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift
The type that sticks around like summat in your teeth?
Are there some aces up your sleeve?
"I like it," Sherlock said, moving his body to the beat as well as his head.
"Makes me think of you," John murmured, passing the joint that was starting to burn down to Sherlock.
Have you no idea that you're in deep?
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Spilling drinks on my settee...
"Really?" Sherlock asked, surprised, taking one last drag on the joint and then grinding out the lit end on a tray behind him.
John nodded, and cocked his head as if listening to the lyrics, encouraging Sherlock to do the same.
Do I wanna know?
If this feeling flows both ways
Sad to see you go
Was sorta hoping that you'd stay
Baby we both know
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.
Sherlock looked confused, but then smiled a little half smile as it dawned; the smile that he gets when he's figured it all out. Locking eyes with John, who's confidence had been increased by the drug, he leaned over and kissed him forcefully on the lips. John leaned back on his hands, allowing Sherlock to crawl into his lap and gain control. Sherlock held John's head in between his hands and tipped it back, shoving his tongue between John's partially parted lips. Sitting up a bit, John put his weight back onto his legs and wrapped one arm around his back and the other hand on his nape. He tilted his hips up and felt a growing hardness in Sherlock's groin as well as his own. He struggled to remain upright; Sherlock was attacking his mouth with all he had. Eventually, John gave up and laid down on his back underneath Sherlock, hooking one of his legs over his back. Clawing at Sherlock's neck, John kissed him back, hard, and tried to dominate over the taller boy's powerful kiss. It proved to be difficult, given his position, but he slid one of his hands down Sherlock's back and cupped his ass. Sherlock gave a jolt of surprise, which allowed John to shove his own tongue into Sherlock's mouth and feel a little dominant.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door, but the boys writhing against each other on the floor were too caught up in themselves to notice or care. The doorknob turned and a blonde head peaked around the corner.
"John are you ready-" her voice abruptly cut off as she saw the scene in the room in front of her.
"Oh... kay then..." she said awkwardly, closing the door on John and Sherlock.
"Who was that?" Sherlock breathed into John's mouth, curiosity forcing him to pull his lips away from John's.
"My girlfriend," John replied, making to recapture Sherlock's lips, but laughing instead when he imagined the scene from her view. Sherlock, laughing too, rested his forehead on John's.
"Oops."