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You're My Drug

Summary:

John wants to try some drugs and asks the school drug dealer if he could buy some. Sherlock sees he's absolutely clueless and helps him out.

Notes:

I put an emoji in parenthesis for lines that sound sus bc it makes me laugh. I write for myself lol.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

He was incredibly nervous waiting under the abandoned school bleachers to meet “drug-lock” (an unimaginative nickname that Holmes was known for because of his rumored history with various drugs).

He rechecked his watch, Holmes was 5 minutes late already. As if the prospect of buying drugs from him wasn’t stressful enough. He was worried he was going to be randomly betrayed and caught and then he’d get arrested and then it would be on his record and then no scholarship which means no university which means- nope he couldn’t do it, he lost his nerve.

Just as he was turning the corner of the bleachers he ran into Holmes. He’d accidentally bumped into Holmes’s side making the other boy draw in a sharp breath and wince.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry, are you okay?” He asked. He saw Holmes was in rough shape. He had a small cut on his cheek and his normally perfect school uniform was dirty and wrinkled. He also noticed he was looking a bit thinner than usual.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Sherlock said waving off his apology.

“What happened to your face?” John asked.

“What?” Holmes said instinctively reaching his hand up to touch his face, then wincing as his fingers grazed the cut “I ran into a bit of trouble with your football freak teammates,” Holmes said coldly.

He felt bad, the team was pretty rowdy and he knew quite a few of them were always looking for a fight. He made a mental note to ask them about it later.

“Sorry for them, do you want to go to the nurse?” He asked forgetting why he was even here with the other boy in the first place.

“No, I’ll be fine. Now let’s get out of the open, I’m not asking for another round of detention.” Holmes said pushing past him and going back behind the bleachers so they’d be hidden from view.

As he followed him his previous anxiety returned.

When they were both well hidden from sight Holmes said “So what do you want to buy? Coke, weed? I even got some morphine,”

He paused, he had no idea. He had never done drugs before but wanted to try, he needed something to relax with at the end of the day so he could deal with the stress of grades, football, and going to uni next year. He had been drinking lately to unwind but he didn’t like the taste and he was scared he had the alcoholism gene like the rest of his family so he didn’t want to risk it.

Holmes rolled his eyes “You don’t know shit about any drugs do you?”

“No, sorry,” he said timidly.

Holmes stared at him for a moment then said “Would you like to come to my house to try some shit? You should probably have someone experienced with you for your first time.” (😏)

He blushed a little at how sexual the Holmes boy’s words sounded but tried not to show it. “Yeah, yeah, um that’d be great. How about after school?”

“Well, aren’t you eager?” Holmes teased.

“Sorry, I’m very curious about how it feels…” John apologized, trailing off and cheeks flushing.

“If you really are that curious I suppose after school could work. My house is empty later anyway so there’s no need to worry about being caught.” Holmes said casually.

“Yeah, that’d be great! Here, let me get your number,” he said pulling out his phone from his pocket. He passed it to Holmes to put his number in.

He looked at it for a moment before taking it. When he passed it back he looked at it and saw that Holmes had put in his contact name in as Sherlock.

He looked up at the other boy “Sherlock is quite the name, does it run in your family?”

“Yes, in fact, it does. It was my great, great grandfather’s name, he was a detective in the 1800’s,” Sherlock said proudly.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. You can call me John. It was my grandfather’s name,” He said smiling at him.

Sherlock returned it with a quick one of his own. “I’ll send you the address later, school starts in a few minutes,”

“Oh yeah, right! We got to go now,” He said and they both made their way out from behind the bleachers and headed toward the school.

They both went off to their separate classes both thinking about what might happen later that day.

The whole day while he was at school he was thinking about Sherlock. Their plans, his personality, and his handsome looks (especially his handsome looks).

He had known he was bi since he remembered ever being attracted to people at all so he was fine with the fact that he felt attracted to Sherlock but what about Sherlock was so attractive to him he didn’t know. He was tall, which is always a plus, and sure Sherlock had a very handsome face but he could feel there was something else about him that drew him to the other boy. He shook off the thought, there was no way Sherlock was in any way attracted to men let alone him. Sure he knew the football team liked to call him a faggot but they did that with everyone they didn’t deem popular.

After his last class ended he checked his phone as everyone started putting away their stuff for the day. He saw he had a text from Sherlock simply stating his address.

He called his mom who answered without much wait.

“Hey, Hon,” His mother answered.

“Hey, mum, do you think I could hang out with Greg for a little before heading home?” he asked.

“Of course, sweetheart, I’ll see you later.” She said and hung up.

He didn’t want to tell her where he was actually going because she knew she would ask too many questions and he’d hate to lie to her even more.

As he was walking out of the school he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. When he turned to look he saw it was Sherlock.

“Oh, hey,” He said looking around to see if anyone was looking at them.

Sherlock noticed the movement, rolled his eyes, and grabbed him by the wrist, leading the way into the woods that bordered the school.

“Where are we going?” he asked confused.

“We’re going to my house, duh,” Sherlock said letting go of his wrist.

“Through the woods?”

“It’s faster.”

“Are you high right now?” He said noticing the slight redness of Sherlock’s eyes.

“‘Course I am,” Sherlock said winking and then smiling wide and open in a way so unlike what he had seen from him earlier.

“And you’re sure this is a real shortcut?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m very sure. Just trust me and follow this sweet ass,” Sherlock said spinning back around and walking into the woods.

He took a deep breath, considered it for a second then started following him.

After about 15 minutes of walking, he was starting to regret his choice in following Sherlock into the woods although he didn’t mention that to Sherlock.

Although he was pleasantly surprised when the trees faded away to reveal a road and houses.

“I told you it was a shortcut,” Sherlock said as they walked the sidewalk.

“Still didn’t feel like a very short, short cut seeing as we still aren’t there.”

“We’re like a minute away from my house but if you walk the roads and sidewalks it usually takes like 30 minutes.”

“Then I guess that’s not too bad.”

Finally, after another minute, Sherlock started walking up the driveway of an insanely large and all-around expensive-looking house.

“This is where you live?” he said, shocked.

“Obviously,” he said as he started unlocking the door.

He just chuckled at Sherlock’s response and followed him in.

They walked up a staircase, down two halls, and then finally reached Sherlock's room. When they went in he was surprised by what he saw. Sherlock's room was surprisingly comfortable looking. All the walls had tall bookcases lining them and Sherlock had two large bean bags on the floor. The walls were covered with informational posters and he saw there were a few candles scattered around the room.

Sherlock immediately flopped on his bed and he decided to collapse into one of the comfortable bean bags.

“Your room is so fucking comfy,” he said relaxing into the chair.

“Hell yeah it is, you ready to get high?” Sherlock asked sitting up.

“Um yeah, on what?” He asked once again nervous because of his inexperience. (😏)

“I’m thinking a good start would be some weed,” Sherlock said suddenly taking a thick lamp apart that was on his dresser.

“What’re you doing?”

“If I don’t want to get my ass sent to rehab I have to hide shit from my family,” Sherlock said withdrawing a black bag from the thick of the hollow lamp.

“Clever,” he remarked.

Soon they were both on the floor. Sherlock rolled three joints taking time rolling each one perfectly.

When he was done he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit it taking a few puffs and standing up. He watched as Sherlock went around his room lighting candles while holding the joint in his mouth and puffing on it.

He looked so hot he had to turn away. Damn his teenage hormones, they hardly knew each other for god’s sake.

When he was done he sat back in his chair taking one more drag. Then offered it for him to take.

He took it and looked at it then back at Sherlock.

"Take a small puff to start, then hold it for as long as you can," Sherlock instructed.

He did as he was told and managed to hold the smoke for a total of 3 seconds before he started coughing harder than he had ever before.

While still coughing up a lung he passed the joint back to Sherlock.

After a minute he finally gained the ability to breathe without starting another coughing fit and he saw Sherlock was moving on to the second joint already. Damn, he couldn’t even do a little, and yet here Sherlock was smoking it as easily as a cigarette.

He could already feel something from the small bit he’d had, or at least he thinks he was feeling something, it could be placebo.

Sherlock passed the second joint to him. "This time take a puff then just fill the rest of your lungs with air then breathe out without holding anything," Sherlock said.

Once again he did as he was told but this time he didn't feel the need to cough like he did last time. He managed to do it one more time before he started to feel the sharp need to cough so he passed it back.

Sherlock smoked with ease, not coughing until they had reached the end of the second.

After Sherlock had started coughing he couldn't help but giggle then Sherlock started giggling and then they were both just giggling at each other's giggles.

After they had both regained their composure Sherlock said "So what do you think?"

He smiled wide, "I LOVE weed now!" He exclaimed and started giggling because his voice sounded kinda funny.

"It's pretty loveable," Sherlock agreed.

They didn't talk for a few minutes. While Sherlock sat in silence he hummed a random tune. Sherlock suddenly sat up.

"You want to hear my music."

He gasped "You do music? Ooo you're perfect aren’t you?" He flirted, forgetting that he was supposed to be crushing his little… attraction to the other boy.

Sherlock didn't answer but as he turned he could have sworn he saw a faint blush on the other's cheek.

He watched as he pulled a medium-sized case out from under his bed. When Sherlock opened it he saw it was an elegant violin inside.

Sherlock pulled it out with the utmost care. When he started playing he could have sworn it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Maybe it was just the weed messing with his senses but he almost started crying at its beauty.

When Sherlock was done he immediately started clapping. Sherlock gave a deep bow and then put the instrument back inside its case once more.

“That was amazing,” He said staring in awe.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said after a moment and then sat back in his chair once more. “How you doing?”

He thought for a moment “Pretty fucking good, I can’t lie,” He said then realized he swore which made him giggle like a child saying a forbidden word.

“What are you laughing about?” Sherlock asked smiling.

“I said a bad word!” He said giggling.

“You can say as many ‘bad words’ as you want,” Sherlock said smiling but still looking adorably confused.

Sherlock picked up the last joint and his lighter and sat back next to him now.

He tried to ignore their sudden closeness and instead think about the fact that they were going to share another joint.

Sherlock held the joint between his lips and struggled to light it. He kept sparking the lighter but it wouldn’t light.

“Here, let me help,” he said putting a hand out for Sherlock to give him the lighter.

Sherlock put it in his hand and leaned in with the joint pointed so it gave John easier access.

He held the lighter up to the light and saw there was only a small amount of fluid left but it might just be enough.

He gave it a few tries and then finally got it and quickly lit the end.

Sherlock held the joint for a while which he didn’t mind at all. He could feel he was already high as Hell he didn’t know if he should even have more.

Sherlock eventually passed it to him and he immediately brought it to his lips the moment but the smoke entered his lungs he could feel he was going to cough hard again.

He quickly passed it back and coughed long and hard, so hard he was scared he was going to throw up.

Sherlock seemed to read his mind because he conjured a bucket from who knows where and handed it to him. He coughed hard over it but he eventually stopped thankfully without throwing up in front of his handsome new friend/crush/dealer (?)

“Is it normal to cough that hard?” He asked concerned it meant something was wrong (blame the paranoia).

"Yeah it's perfectly normal, I used to cough so hard It felt like it was going to turn to blood,” Sherlock said.

He cringed at the image of coughing that hard.

He watched as Sherlock brought the joint to his lips then he did a strange trick where the smoke from his slightly open lips went straight up to his nose.

“It looks like a ghost is going up inside your brain when you do that,” He said smiling.

“No it doesn’t, it looks cool!” Sherlock insisted.

“Aw, you’re already cool. You’ve got that hot mystery guy thing about you already, no need to let the ghosts get in your brain,” He said putting a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder to convey how serious he was.

“You think I’m hot?” Sherlock looking surprisingly bashful.

It took him about thirty seconds to realize what he said then he felt his cheeks turn bright red “Um, sorry,” He apologized.

He mentally swore at himself. Not only had he probably ruined any chance of hanging out with Sherlock again he was probably going to tell the whole school he’s a fag.

He put his face in his hands and swore a bit out loud too “Don’t tell anyone anything or I swear I’ll… I don’t know, be pissed?” He knew he would never hit Sherlock, He just wasn’t the kind to get into fights even if he ruined his whole reputation.

“Tell anyone what?” Sherlock said looking worried.

“That I’m part faggot,” He groaned like it was a terrible thing. Even though he had excepted his bisexuality years ago and was out to his family it still felt like a dirty secret he had to keep to himself or else he would probably go from Mr. popularity to the bottom of the food chain fast.

“So? I’ve been sucking dick since I was like 14!” Sherlock said poking him in the back so he would face him again.

“What? really, you? Really?” He asked. He was completely bamboozled by the idea that Sherlock of all people was actually in any way attracted to the same sex. He had never seen Sherlock with anyone but he knew plenty of girls who were crushing on the school’s tragic bad boy.

“If anyone should be surprised it’s me! John Watson the star football player, the lady's man, you seem as straight as they come.”

He thought about it from Sherlock's perspective “Hmm I guess you’re right. I’m only out to my family so that’s why it’s only girls I get with at school instead of girls and guys. I’d rather not get my asked kicked by the bigots that go to our school so I haven’t really fooled around with anyone of the same sex. Except once in middle school when we were playing spin the bottle and it landed on another boy but I don’t think that really counts because we both pretended we hated it, well I suppose he probably did,” Then he realized he was kinda rambling, and stopped.

“Wow,” Is all Sherlock had to say and with the utterly stoned state, they were in that just about summed it up.

Just then his phone started ringing making him jump then he listened to his ringtone for a second because it was just so great then he finally realized that he was being called and he answered.

“Yellow?” He said.

“Blue,” His mom said sarcastically. “You should start heading home, it’s going to be dark soon,”

Oh shit, shit, shit, he didn’t know if he could even make it home with the state he was in. “Um, okay,” He said shooting a panicked look to Sherlock who just returned it shrugging.

“I’ll see you in a little then, Johnny,” She said warmly and then started talking about what gossip the neighbors had told her but he wasn’t really listening.

Sherlock reached over him and then put them on mute so his mother couldn’t hear them.

“Stay here, you can stay the night that way you won’t be caught because trust me we both stink like weed right now,” Sherlock said.

“Okay,” he said. He liked it here anyway. But of course, a moment later he remembered his mom wanted him home.

He took himself off mute and waited until his mother finished what she was saying before speaking “Hey, mom, Greg,” he winked at Sherlock “And I am having a lot of fun do you think it’d be okay if I stayed the night at his place? Pretty gorgeous please?” He said realizing he sounded like a child after he was finished speaking.

“Hmm well since you said pretty gorgeous please I suppose that’s fine with me,” She said chuckling.

“Yes! Thank you, mom, I love you!”

“I love you too, have fun,” She said and hung up.

“Yay!” he said celebrating by standing up and dancing to the music he hummed.

This made Sherlock laugh “What are you doing?”

“I’m dancing, duh,” He said not stopping his dance. Moving is so fun when you’re high, he thought.

“That’s not dancing!” Sherlock said getting up too. “This is dancing,” Sherlock said and started to waltz with an imaginary partner.

“Oh that looks fancy, teach me!” He said excitedly.

“Okay, come here,” Sherlock said beckoning to him.

He placed himself in front of Sherlock and waited for a sign on what to do.

“Do you want to lead or follow?” Sherlock asked.

“What does that mean?” He asked, he knew nothing of dancing.

“It’s like the top or bottom of dancing,” Sherlock said once again blushing slightly.

He loved seeing Sherlock’s cheeks go pink. He quite wanted to test how pink he could make them go but he was worried he was going to forget so he walked over to Sherlock’s desk and drew Sherlock with blush on his arm as best he could. The finished product was terrible but it made him laugh and then he turned back to Sherlock and remembered what they were doing.

“What were you doing?” Sherlock asked.

“Nothing, I was writing a note so I won't forget something.”

“What are you not forgetting?”

“Nunya beeswax, or is it nunya business, I don’t know I forgot how it’s said.” He said and then resumed his position in front of Sherlock “Now where were we, oh yeah! Hmm, top or bottom…” He thought for a moment “Both, I imagine both being nice. I guess because you know a lot more than I do I’ll be bottom so you can lead!” (😏)

Sherlock's blush had deepened which made him smile. If you think about it flirting is just about the same with girls as it is with boys, it’s just flirting. He was going to lay his moves on Sherlock. To his high self, this seemed like a brilliant idea but he knew if he were sober he would not be nearly as bold as he was feeling at the moment.

“Okay, um put your hands here,” Sherlock said and took his hand and put it on his shoulder then took the other in his and intertwined their fingers then Sherlock put his own hand on his waist but not too low for it to be a sign of interest (to his disappointment).

They were now both in position to start dancing.

"Follow my movements and you'll get a hang of it," Sherlock said.

When Sherlock took a step forward he’d take one back, when Sherlock took one to the side he took one to the side, and so on. Soon they were in perfect rhythm dancing around the room.

“This is so fun!” He said smiling up at the taller boy.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Sherlock said.

“You know what would make this better?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock answered eyed closed as they still danced in perfect harmony to the music in their heads.

“I think you should play the violin, we record it, and then play the recording back so we can dance to it,”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Sherlock said and then let go of his hand and waist.

Sherlock brought his violin out once more and John got his phone ready to record.

“Ready?” Sherlock asked.

“Ready,” He answered and clicked to start recording.

Three songs later Sherlock stopped playing.

“That it?” He asked. He could dance with Sherlock all night so he definitely didn’t only want to dance to three songs.

“It’ll be enough, we can always put it on a loop,” Sherlock said. He didn’t think about that.

“Let’s dance then!” He said but when he looked at his phone he saw he forgot to press stop.

“Whoopsie, I’ll have to trim it a bit, I forgot to hit stop,” After he had done so he put the phone down on Sherlock’s bed, and they once again lined up to dance.

“Can I lead? I’ll just do what you did, it looks easy enough,”

“Of course,” Sherlock said putting his hands where John’s had been last time.

He looked down at his arm and saw the little “note” he had drawn earlier which gave him an idea.

He intertwined his fingers once more but instead of putting his hand on Sherlock’s waist, he put it on his lower hip so his hand was only a few centimeters away from being on his ass.

He saw Sherlock blush slightly but he didn’t say anything about it so he took that as a sign to start dancing.

It took him a few tries to get the hang of leading but after he did they were soon dancing around the room to the music of Sherlock’s violin. After they had gone around the room a few times he got a bit bolder in his movements. He didn’t move his hand any closer to Sherlock’s rear but he did trace lazy circles with his thumb as they dance.

“Can I spin you?” He asked.

“I don’t know if you even can, I’m a bit taller than you if you haven’t noticed,”

“I can spin you,” He said confidently and let go of Sherlock’s hip and then went for it.

Sherlock spun great as long as he ducked a little but still, it was fun.

As they danced they took turns spinning each other until they were both dizzy and laughing.

They flopped onto a bean bag together and relaxed into it. Both were very aware of how close the other was but neither scooted any farther.

“You are a talented dancer, Mr. Holmes,” He said in the poshest voice he could do.

“As are you, Mr. Watson,” Sherlock said smiling and turning to face him.

He only now realized how close he was to the other boy. They were faces were only a few centimeters away from each other.

Sherlock seemed to realize the same thing but didn’t move, only glazed downward and then back at him. He was utterly adorable, he thought. He wanted to snog the near stranger right here right now but he kept himself in check, no way he had the balls to kiss him straight up, he did, however, have the balls to flirt, so that was exactly what he planned on doing.

“Your eyes are beautiful, very pretty, they’re like storm clouds but bluer,” Okay, he didn’t say he was good at flirting.

Still, his plan worked and he had Sherlock blushing and even avoiding eye contact. “Thanks,” Sherlock managed to whisper.

“Mhm,” He responded and rolled back onto his back and got lost in thought as he stared off into the ceiling

“Hey, Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure,”

“What’s it like sucking dick?”

Sherlock didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry was that too personal?” He said and turned to see Sherlock looking at him.

“No, It’s fine,” Sherlock said, “It’s hard to describe,”

“Is it fun?” He asked.

“I like it, as long as the other person does,” Sherlock said shrugging.

“I think I’d like it,” He stated.

“Why?” Sherlock asked curiously.

“I’ve eaten out chicks before and I love that so going down on a guy sounds just as good, even if it is a little different,”

“That logic is terrible,” Sherlock said chuckling.

“Maybe, I won’t actually know until I try I suppose.”

“Mmm,” Sherlock hummed in agreement.

“Should we light the last one?” Sherlock asked.

“I thought we already did,”

“We lit it but it went out and there’s still plenty left,” Sherlock said.

“Then sure,”

“I’ll go get it,” Sherlock said and got up with a groan.

He came back with a lighter and the joint which still had over half left.

“Do you want to shotgun this last one?” Sherlock asked.

“I don’t even know what that means,” He said confused.

“I breathe the smoke in then when I breathe it out you breathe it in,” Sherlock explained “That way you’re a lot less likely to cough as hard as you have been,”

“Yeah that sounds easy enough,” He said.

They both sat up so that John would be able to actually get the secondhand smoke.

He watched as Sherlock brought the joint to his lips and took a three-second drag then he exhaled the smoke as close to his face as he could without outright kissing him. He inhaled and noted that it wasn’t as harsh as when he smoked himself. He also noted what getting so close to Sherlock’s mouth did to him.

They did this a few times, and each time he inhaled from Sherlock his gut turned at the thought of being so close that if he leaned just a little more than he was their lips would meet.

He was insanely high like shit was moving in the corner of his eyes kind of high and it was because of this level of intoxication that he went through with the stupidest idea he had probably ever had.

“One more,” Sherlock said and took a long inhale, finishing off the joint.

As he exhaled he didn’t inhale the rest of Sherlock’s smoke instead he brought one hand to Sherlock’s face and kissed him.

Sherlock almost immediately returned the kiss, much to his relief. It felt electric. He had never felt the way kissing anyone before, maybe it was just the weed but this was the most amazing kiss he had ever had with anyone.

His whole body was buzzing and when Sherlock slipped his tongue into his mouth he was sure he was going to explode from the sheer pleasure he was feeling.

Suddenly Sherlock pulled back swearing.

“What, what? Something wrong?” he asked concerned.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Sherlock swore.

“Sherlock, what is it?” he said then saw Sherlock was cradling his hand and he also saw the tiny remains of the joint burning Sherlock's carpet and he put two and two together.

“Oh, shit are you okay?” He asked getting up and finding a tissue to pick up the remains of the joint and tossing it in an ashtray on Sherlock’s desk.

”Yeah, it just hurt is all,” Sherlock said standing up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and put a bandaid on it,”

“I’ll come with you, I need to know where your bathroom is,” He said and followed Sherlock out of the room.

Even though they had only walked down the hall (tiptoeing for some reason) it felt like they had traveled miles to reach their destination.

When Sherlock turned on the bathroom lights he winced, they were so strong and he found them very unpleasant. Soon his eyes adjusted though and he sat on the edge of a large bathtub and watched as Sherlock ran his fingers under the sink for a minute sighing in relief.

“Is the water helping?” He asked.

“Yes, very much,” Sherlock said.

“Good,” He said nodding then he stood up again, “Where are your bandaids? I want to help,”

“They’re under the sink,” Sherlock said moving his feet so he could get around him but still keep his hurt fingers under the water.

He bent down and opened the cabinet looking around and quickly found a small bin full of band-aids of various shapes and sizes.

He took out an average-size band-aid and then put the bin back and stood up.

Sherlock looked at the stared at the band-aid for a moment then he could tell Sherlock was lost in thought. He figured he might as well look at Sherlock while they’re both too high to focus on the task at hand and while he could do it without the other boy noticing he was checking him out.

Sherlock's body was perfect. He was tall and handsome and always looked well dressed even when he was at school clearly high on something a lot more dangerous than weed.

He had noticed Sherlock ever since Sherlock had come to their school. They were also in the same grade even though Sherlock was a little under two years younger than him so he was clearly quite smart too. Maybe it was just his instinct to help people who need help but ever since he had known Sherlock he had secretly wished he would get clean. He didn’t even really know him other than the fact they share a few classes but there was something that drew him to the boy.

When he was a kid he didn’t understand why people did drugs or even drank but as he got older he realized it was just how people cope with the world. Maybe you don’t do drugs or drink alcohol, maybe you hit the gym extra hard when you’re upset, or maybe you eat your comfort food or maybe you hurt yourself in some other way but it’s all the same thing and he’s now accepted that whatever gets you through whatever you’re going through is your own business and he vowed he would never judge, but try to understand.

And that’s why he wondered what was eating Sherlock up so much that he did what he did. Not only the drugs but there were stories of aplenty of Sherlock being reckless to the point of it being self-destructive.

Finally Sherlock looked up, realizing that he had spaced out. He turned off the sink and took the band-said that he had still been holding out and put it on his burnt finger.

“You good?”

“Yep,” Sherlock said and they then both walked back to Sherlock’s room but before they reached the door Sherlock turned around and he almost crashed into him since his reflexes weren't exactly at their peak.

“Do you want to find something to eat?” Sherlock asked.

“Hell yes, food sounds so good right now,” He said and moved aside so Sherlock could lead the way through his big ass house.

When they got to the kitchen he was surprised at how large it was.

“Holly shit, who even needs a kitchen this big?” He asked.

“Not my family,” Sherlock responded “No one in my family cooks much, my brother’s at uni, my parents are always going on business trips, and personally I don’t care much for having to make food and then eat it, and then doing dishes multiple times a day every day because that quickly gets boring,” Sherlock said as if eating were a burden he had to suffer through. “So, I basically live off cereal and microwave meals,” Sherlock said opening a cabinet that had only a few items in it, two of them being cereal boxes, “Which one do you want?” Sherlock asked.

One of the boxes looked like one of those healthy cereals that you sprinkle in yogurt and the other was a bright rainbow box.

“Definitely, that one,” He said pointing to the colorful box.

“Okay,” Sherlock said grabbing the box and two bowls. “My hands are full, could you grab the milk, it’s on the bottom right of the fridge.”

“Sure,” He said but when he opened the fridge he didn’t even know why Sherlock told him where it was because milk was the only thing in there other than some leftover takeout and some condiments.

He grabbed the milk but when he turned around Sherlock was gone.

“Sherlock?” He called.

No answer.

Then he decided to yell since it really was a large house. “SHERLOCK!”

“I WENT BACK UPSTAIRS, GET UP HERE AND BRING THE MILK,” Sherlock shouted back.

He went upstairs mentally retracing his steps but he’d already forgotten where the hell Sherlock’s room was.

“Marco!” He yelled.

Sherlock immediately understood what he was doing “Pollo!”

“Marco!” John said following Sherlock’s voice.

“Pollo!” Then he spotted Sherlock’s cracked door and went in.

“You took long enough,” Sherlock said smiling.

“I’m not the guy with a house big enough to get lost in,” He said sitting down across from the other boy and putting the milk down.

Sherlock had already set out both bowls and put cereal in his own so he immediately grabbed the milk. While Sherlock poured his milk he poured his cereal and then took the milk from Sherlock.

When they both had their bowls they realized at the exact same time that they didn’t have any spoons.

“Ughhh” They both groaned.

Sherlock got up “I’ll go get them,” and left.

He leaned back on the bean bag chair and stared off at the ceiling thinking about how much he was enjoying himself at Sherlock’s house.

The realization that he and Sherlock had been making out only a few minutes ago only struck him as Sherlock came back into the room with two spoons in hand.

“Here take this,” Sherlock said tossing him a spoon.

“Thanks,” he said catching it still amazed that they had just kissed.

They ate their slightly soggy cereal in silence but he couldn’t stop staring at Sherlock.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sherlock asked, brow furrowed.

“Oh, um sorry,” He said and looked down at his cereal which tasted different than usual, much better than usual but also quite different. But that wasn’t enough to distract him from the fact that they kissed! He kissed Sherlock Holmes and he kissed him back! He didn’t know the rules of kissing high, was it like when you kiss someone drunk? Was he going to forget most of this whole thing the way you do when you’re really drunk?

He’d lost his appetite and now just stared down at his bowl. He didn’t want to forget his kiss with Sherlock, Hell he wanted to kiss him senseless. He sneaked a look at Sherlock, he seemed perfectly untroubled, and probably didn’t even remember the kiss. The thought of that made him feel kinda disappointed.

What if this was just a normal thing for Sherlock? What if kissing didn’t mean the same thing to Sherlock as it did to him and that smoking weed with people was just what Sherlock did? He didn’t really know Sherlock so how could he be sure?

By now he was pretty upset so he decided he needed to get away for a few minutes.

“I’m not going to finish this, can I go pour it out in the bathroom?” He said picking up his half-eaten cereal and standing up.

Sherlock seemed to notice his change in mood and frowned at him “Yeah, sure, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He said and left the room.

He poured the contents of the bowl out into the toilet and then started washing the bowl and spoon in the sink.

He then rinsed his face with cold water then started brushing his teeth with his finger as best he could because he didn’t like the way it stuck in his teeth. Maybe it was just because he was upset but he didn’t want any taste in his mouth or even the memory of kissing Sherlock if it truly meant nothing to the other boy.

When he felt completely clean, or at least cleaner he sat down on the floor bc he wasn’t ready to go back to the room.

He had worked himself up so much he kind of wanted to go home but one look at his eyes and his mother would know exactly what he had been doing and would probably ground him, talk to Greg's mom, realize he had lied to her and it would snowball into one big mess of trouble that he was not wanting to get into.

Ugh, he hated overthinking things and he was sure the weed was making his bad habit worse than usual.

Just then there was a light knock at the door.

“Hmm?” He answered.

“You okay in there? You’ve been gone for almost half an hour,” Sherlock said concerned.

“No I haven’t, it’s been like two minutes,” he said but when he looked down at his watch he saw Sherlock was right. “Oh, shit never mind I didn’t realize I’d been in here so long,” He said getting up even though he didn’t exactly want to.

He took a deep breath and made a decision, if he was going to stay here he might as well have fun, even if he was just another everyday Joe to Sherlock.

He picked up the bowl and spoon and opened the door “They’re all clean,” he said forcing a smile.

He saw Sherlock look him up and down then around the room “Why were you sitting on the floor so long?” Sherlock asked.

“What?” He asked, bewildered, how did he know that? “Were you spying on me?” He asked looking around the room to see if there were cameras or anything else equally creepy around.

“No, of course not,” Sherlock said “I merely observed,”

“And how did you do that smart pants?” He asked skeptically.

“Well first off when I came to the door I could see no shadow of your feet which meant you were at the back of the bathroom, I can also tell from the wrinkles in your pants you were sitting but not on the toilet because the seat is up and you’d have fallen in, and not on the edge of the bathtub because the wrinkles of the bath matt near the tub are scrunched away from the wall but not the tub, hence you were sitting right here,” Sherlock said pointing to the exact spot he’d been sitting in.

“But how did you know I was there for a while?” He asked amazed.

“Because I heard the sink turn off from my room, the water heater is right under it, and also the sink isn’t as wet as it would be had it just been used,” Sherlock said,

“Wow, you’re incredibly observant,” John said amazed at Sherlock’s sheer brilliants and use of logic.

“Thank you, now that I’ve answered your questions, answer mine. Why were you in here so long?” Sherlock asked.

He sighed, “No reason, I just spaced out,” He lied but he could tell from Sherlock’s face he knew it was a lie too.

“Ugh fine, I was thinking about the fact that we kissed,” He said blushing in embarrassment.

“And you’re upset about it?” Sherlock said, voice hollow.

“What no, well kind of but-” He was cut off by Sherlock walking out of the bathroom.

“Wait let me explain,” He said following Sherlock into his room.

“You don’t have to,” Sherlock said and opened the drawers of his dresser scarily calm.

“It just came out wrong I-” but he was cut off by Sherlock throwing some item of clothing at him. He held it up and saw it was a plain t-shirt. “What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a change of clothes,” Sherlock said throwing him some trousers at him too,

“Why?” He asked confused.

“Because you’re going home, or to a friend's house, I don’t care but I want you out. Change into those and put your current clothes in your bag. They're eye drops in the bathroom cabinet, they’ll help with the red eyes and then you’re as good as new,” Sherlock said his cold tone slightly reflecting emotion.

“No wait, really Sherlock, I’m just bad at words. I don’t regret the kiss I just thought you did,”

“What made you think that?”

“Well, you just kind of didn’t acknowledge it so I thought it just didn’t really mean anything to you or something…” He trailed off embarrassed.

“You did acknowledge it either!”

“Yeah, well that’s because I didn’t really process that happened until we were eating the cereal,”

“You mean while I was eating my cereal and you were glaring at yours?” Sherlock said rolling his eyes and opening a drawer where he pulled a pack of cigarettes out.

“That’s because I was overthinking shit. I’ve never kissed a guy before and especially not high I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or what it means. The closest to this situation I’ve been in was kissing a girl drunk and this feels nothing like that and for the love of fuck why does my ankle feel hot?” he said looking down and seeing nothing,

Sherlock lit the cigarette and sat down on his bed.

“Well believe it or not I’m not a total man whore and don’t kiss a bunch of guys, sure blow jobs here and there but those are almost more business transactions. Kissing on the other hand does mean something to me, high or not. Also, the ankle thing is your imagination, your mind is just playing tricks on you because of the weed.” Sherlock said.

“Well, what does this kiss mean to you?” he asked.

“A lot more than you seem to think,” Sherlock said rolling his eyes although he knew he was just pretending not to care.

“Well…” he said slowly walking towards him “It definitely meant something to me,”

Sherlock looked up.

“So would you maybe want to have it happen again in the future?” He asked looking Sherlock in the eyes, wondering if he was about to be painfully rejected.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Sherlock said slowly also maintaining eye contact.

“Well then, you think I can still stay here? Or would you still like me to go?” He asked, still holding the clothes Sherlock had thrown at him.

“Stay, you can stay,”

“Good,” he said smiling “Where should I put these?” he held up the clothes.

“On the floor or where ever I don’t care,”

He could tell Sherlock was noticeably more relaxed than he was and so was he. He tossed the clothes on the floor and sat down on the floor so his back was to the bed and Sherlock’s feet were to his left.

“Why’re you sitting down there?” Sherlock asked.

“I like sitting on the floor,” He said looking up at him

“But why?”

“I don’t know, sitting down next to people if they were sitting there first always makes me feel weird but being on the ground is more fun,” He said as if that made any sense.

“But someone sitting next to you if you’re already there is okay?”

“Yep,”

“Then this is okay?” Sherlock said scooting off the bed and sitting next to him on the floor.

“Yeah, I like that,” He said nodding. He had almost forgotten they had gone through three joints together and he realized he was still pretty high when he looked at the floor and imagined patterns. “This is nice. I like your room, it’s very chill but you can still see reflections of your personality. Your bookshelves are full of so many books with so many subjects but like 90% of them are nonfiction and the rest fantasy which is exactly what I’d guess of you. And also your posters. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone have the periodic table on their wall outside of school. It’s just such an interesting room to be in.”

“Thank you, most people always say it’s too cluttered,”

“Cluttered? How is it cluttered? It’s clear there’s organization to everything. I mean you literally have two tree jars to sort markers, from pens, and pens from pencils.” The more he looked at Sherlock’s room the more he saw how perfectly functional it was. Even if things looked like they were just anywhere around the room it was clear to him they were there for some clearly logical reason if you thought about it.

“Well you’re the only other person who sees it like that,” Sherlock said.

“Hmm, people must be idiots,” He said shrugging.

“No kidding,” Sherlock said once again taking a drawl off the cigarette.

“You know those things can kill,” He said gesturing to Sherlock's cigarette.

“So can peanuts,” Sherlock said smiling.

“True,” He agreed.

“Do you know what time it is?” Sherlock asked.

He looked down at his watch “It’s almost 10,”

“Hmm feels later,”

“It feels like it should still be like, seven,”

“Time is funny when you’re high,”

“No kidding,”

“You want to go to sleep?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, very much so, I’m exhausted,” He said only realizing how tired he really was now that Sherlock asked.

“Same,” Sherlock said and put his cigarette out on the ashtray and stood up.

Sherlock offered his hand to help him up but he just groaned “I’m staying here. The floor and I are one!” He said and laid down.

“Nope, I’m not going to let a guest sleep on the floor, I was raised better than that,” Sherlock said tugging on his shirt to get him to start moving.

“Nooo,” He wined but started to sit up.

“You’re like a foot away from being on the bed, get up,” Sherlock said.

“Fine,” He said groaning and sitting up on the bed. “Do you have some pajamas I could borrow? I obviously didn’t think I’d be staying the night, and I don’t want to sleep in my school clothes,”

“Yeah, I’ll find you some. They might be a bit long on you though,”

Sherlock said getting up and once more opening his drawers, although this time he was actually calm.

“Here, you can just take this shirt, and these trousers,” Sherlock said picking up the t-shirt he had thrown at him earlier and then also throwing him some grey bottoms.

“Thanks,” He said a started taking off his school shirt. When he’d got it off he looked up to see Sherlock staring Sherlock hurriedly turned around blushing “Sorry,” Sherlock muttered embarrassed.

He just laughed it off “I don’t mind you watching,” and continued to change. After he was completely done though he informed Sherlock he could turn back around now.

“Man I’m tired,” He said yawning “Is there something in weed that makes you tired?”

“It is known to be a good sleeping aid. Could you throw me a pillow?” Sherlock said flopping in one of the bean bags.

“Why? You aren’t planning on sleeping there are you?”

“Of course, I’m sleeping here,” Sherlock said.

“No way, I’m not going to force you out of your bed,”

“Well, no way I’m taking it,”

“Fine, get your ass over here and we can both sleep comfy,” He said scooching over and patting the spot next to him in the big bed.

“Whatever,” Sherlock said and flipped the light off before joining him in bed (😏)

When they had both settled in the bed he suddenly didn’t feel as tired and stared at the ceiling in silence.

“Hey, Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock hummed sleepily.

“What are we now?”

Sherlock didn’t answer for a moment and he half wondered if he’d fallen asleep “What do you want us to be?” Sherlock asked apprehensively.

“Boyfriends,” He said decidedly.

“Then boyfriends it is,” Sherlock said and he swore he could feel Sherlock smiling.

Notes:

Tee hee, they're gay.