a/n
Trigger Warning // Sexual assault (no consent) for the third part of this chapter (it's not between Sherlock and Jim)
~
"I know I shouldn't say this but I really believe,
I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me."
- Terrible Things
Mayday Parade
The holidays, as predicted, were painfully dull. My mum spent her time at work as she didn't get a break, apparently. Honestly, I didn't know she had a job. I kind of assumed she stayed at home all day. I suppose I never really asked. Thinking about it, the sheer lack of things I knew about my own mother was alarming.
Without any friends or Sherlock to keep my company, I had no plans whatsoever - hence it being painfully dull. I spent the majority of my time rather pathetically thinking about my science teacher. I must point out that this was definitely not my intention. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop his face from constantly popping into my mind at the worst times.
Whenever I thought about Sherlock, my mind wandered. One day I wondered whether or not he had any pets whilst the next, I questioned whether he really was single. This obviously led to me convincing myself that he didn't actually care about me. He just seemed too good to be true. Perhaps he'd find someone else during the holidays - someone better than me. We'll everyone was better than me so that wouldn't be a hard task. Maybe he'd found someone his age who he could quite happily hang around with without the fear of getting caught. Let's be honest, he probably replaced me the first chance he got.
I really hate my mind sometimes.
In other news, the house next to mine sold. Much to my disappointment, it wasn't Sherlock who bought it. It was an elderly couple who I'd immediately decided I didn't like. They looked like stereotypically nice neighbours who'd bake you cakes out of the blue. Sure, this didn't sound too bad, but no matter how nice they appeared, they weren't Sherlock Holmes.
I'd already ignored my own advise; don't get your hopes up to avoid disappointment. Good job Jim.
~-~-~-~-~
I made sure to get to school early on the first day back, silently hoping to bump into Mr Holmes. I hope that man realised what a mess he's turned me into. I was waking up early on a Monday for him. I must like him.
During the holidays, I'd finally come to terms with my feelings for Sherlock. I refused to call it love but there was definitely something there. It was more than a crush, more than me simply liking him. I was certainly fascinated by him. He was the only person who actually seemed to enjoy spending time with me and vice versa. The only person who I felt I could really trust. It was terrifying to me as I found it hard to open up to anyone, yet found talking to Sherlock ridiculously easy.
He had my heart in his hands and he could quite easily smash it before my very eyes. He was aiming his gun directly at me but I trusted him not to pull the trigger. Letting Sherlock in made me completely vulnerable. He could easily break me.
Perhaps I was infatuated.
Due to how early I was, not many people were at school. As I didn't particularly know what to do - having no friends to hang out with was a real disadvantage in this scenario - I chose to wander around the school aimlessly. Luckily, my early morning ambling paid off.
I had just turned down yet another seemingly abandoned corridor when I spotted a familiar figure walking towards me. The figure was, of course, Sherlock. I'm not going to lie, I genuinely felt a flutter in my chest when I saw him. Considering it was the first day back and the rest of the school looked like a mess, he looked exceptionally good.
"Morning Sir." I smiled at him receiving only a blank expression in response.
Rude.
The sigh that was just about to escape my lips was quickly turned into a gasp as he dragged me, rather smoothly, may I add, into a conveniently placed supplies cupboard. Closing the door behind us, he pushed me into the wall lightly, allowing little space between us. His hands were either side of me, blocking me in. In fact, we were so close that I could smell his (severely missed) scent once again. It was like a mix of coffee and cigarettes. Sherlock didn't exactly look like he'd be one to smoke or drink large amounts of coffee, but I wasn't complaining. Although, I honestly thought he would be one to prefer tea. Each to their own, I guess.
Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of room in the cupboard. It wasn't exactly small. There was really no reason for us to be this close which implied that Sherlock only had one intention.
The 'intimate' moments I'd felt with him throughout the school year were nothing compared to this.
"You're killing me here." Sherlock whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. Had I really done it? Had I brought a grown man to his knees? Admittedly, it wasn't in the way I was expecting. This way, however, was a lot more fun.
My mouth fell open slightly as I carefully planned out what I was going to say, desperate not to ruin the moment.
"Oh really?" I replied finally, resisting the urge to kiss him. I wouldn't be able to stop myself for long, I knew that. I just had to make sure to get the timing absolutely perfect. I had Sherlock exactly where I wanted him, I couldn't mess this up now.
"I have an overwhelming desire to kiss you right now, Jim Moriarty." Sherlock said, vocalising my thoughts.
"What's stopping you?"
As Sherlock stared at my lips, I seized the opportunity. Everything I'd ever wanted to say to Sherlock transferred from my lips to his. A rush of excitement coursed through my veins. Holmes's hands instinctively wrapped around the back of my neck, connecting our lips fully. I could physically feel Sherlock relax as he ran his hands through my hair absentmindedly. I placed my hands on his hips, attempting to pull him closers - if that was even physically possible.
What we were doing right now was so wrong yet so right. I had no words to describe it. In fact, I'm positive that not a single word in the dictionary could even attempt to describe the sensation I was experiencing. All my senses were alive. I was alive.
It was genuine, undeniable bliss. I decided right then and there that I could quite happily do this forever. I decided that I enjoyed kissing Sherlock and that I never wanted to kiss another human being ever again.
I eventually pulled back, breathless. Sherlock made it so that our foreheads were just touching, his breathing just as rapid as my own. I felt his hands sliding from my hair, to my neck, to my back, finally residing on my waist. Every inch of my skin he touched was on fire.
Once my breathing was somewhat normal, I looked at Sherlock lustfully. He must have read my mind as, before any words left either of our mouths, they were connected again.
We were so caught up in the moment that we almost didn't hear the bell signalling the start of registration. I tried to be mad with it but failed miserably, my mouth independently curling into a smile. Of course I didn't exactly want to leave the cupboard, but I was positive that nothing could possibly bring me down from this high I was experiencing.
Sherlock smiled at me, his cheeks slightly flushed. No words were exchanged - they didn't need to be. We both silently readjusted our clothes due to the light creases we had created, only loosing eye contact when completely necessary.
Stepping out of the way slowly, Sherlock opened the door for me to leave. I took the hint and walked out, laughing even though nothing was particularly funny. Apparently, my laugh was contagious as I soon heard my teacher's distant chuckle. We were collectively giggling over nothing. This was clearly hilarious to me as I continued to laugh my way down the corridor. I physically couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It was pathetic, sure, but I was so undeniably happy in that moment that, frankly, I couldn't care less.
~-~-~-~-~
I hate sports.
Especially when it's my first lesson.
My teacher made me and another boy run a lap of the field at the end of the lesson because we complained about him making us do exercise in the rain. Personally, I thought it was an entirely reasonable thing to complain about. Evidently, he didn't share my opinion.
However, I was too happy about the recent progression with Sherlock to care. I was determined not to let anything ruin my mood today.
I'd kissed him and he'd kissed me back. That must mean something.
He'd kissed me.
He kissed me.
We kissed.
The other boy I mentioned was called Jake. I admittedly felt slightly bad for making him stay behind. All he did was back up my argument. Technically, it was my fault.
If I'm completely honest, Jake is probably one of the more attractive boys in the school. That was, of course, one of the main reasons he was popular. Every school is the same. There's always that one group of popular kids who think they own the school. Without fail, they're always popular because of their physical appearance. They're like carbon copies. They must make them in factories, I swear.
If I wasn't so infatuated with Sherlock, I'd probably be interested in him.
Alas, like the majority of popular kids, he was an asshole. The curse of attractive genes, I guess.
There were numerous reports of him cheating on his girlfriends or sleeping with everyone he made eye contact with. It honestly wouldn't surprise me if the rumours were true. He was the type of guy who treated his partners as through they were worthless - like a piece of meat. He was only interested in one thing. The one thing that some people wouldn't willingly agree to at this age.
I sat in the changing rooms. He was sat in the corner of the room, watching me silently. Suddenly feeling self conscious, I pulled off my top and searched around for my school shirt. I could feel Jake's eyes on me the whole time causing my searching to become more frantic. Considering the fact that we were the only two people in the room, the tension felt even worse.
I chose to ignore him and focus on getting out of there, preferably as soon as possible. Pulling on my shirt, I began to do up the buttons. I heard footsteps getting closer to me.
"Hey Jim." Jake said, breaking the silence. He was suddenly sat right beside me. I edged away.
"What do you want?" I snapped, trying to indicate that I really didn't want him so close to me.
Clearly either not getting the hint or simply choosing to ignore it, he moved closer. I felt his breath on my face as he whispered, "You."
Part of me wanted to laugh in his face due to the stupidity of the situation whilst the other part was fucking terrified.
It then dawned on me that he most likely didn't have consent from half the girls he'd had sex with. Like I said, he was only interested in one thing. My assumption would make sense. All the alleged victims stayed as far away from Jake as they could. Were they angry? Embarrassed? Frightened?
This was the one time I was glad I listened to the gossip.
My heart began to race and I knew I had to get out of that room. I tried to do up my buttons quickly but my fumbling fingers wouldn't do as I asked. He placed his hand over mine, preventing me from moving. I could feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of my shirt and I was convinced that he could feel my rapid heart beat. I focused on my breathing.
"Please get off me." I said, unsure as to why I was bothering to be polite.
He tightened his grip on my wrists, "Don't be like that, Jimmy."
Inhale.
Exhale.
I looked at his hands anxiously. Everything had escalated so quickly that I thought I was dreaming, except this was more of a nightmare.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inha-
Without warning, he pressed his lips against mine forcefully, replacing any memory I had of kissing Sherlock. Turning my face to the side, I managed to pull away. My hands were still trapped. I was trapped.
"No!" I croaked powerlessly. I couldn't escape. He was all around me, suffocating me slowly.
"Don't be such a fucking baby, Jim." Jake spat, "Stop being so ungrateful. You're lucky I even gave you a second look. Some people would kill to be in your position."
Just like before, his lips were on mine again, more aggressive this time. He pushed me down so that he was now on top of me, holding my hands above my head. Every inch of my body was screaming at him. With one hand, he gripped my wrists whilst he used the other to feel all over my body. Tears blurred my eyesight as I found it increasingly hard to breath. His free hand travelled everywhere. It travelled over my chest, through my hair, between my thighs...
I had no way of fighting back.
"You're... So... Pathetic..." He told me between breaths. The worst part was, he was right. I should be thankful that he chose me, shouldn't I? I should be enjoying this. Why didn't I feel particularly lucky?
He hand continued to touch me. It slipped under my trousers effortlessly and forced its way into my boxers.
I heard distant footsteps and Jake's actions seemed more frantic. He covered my mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, preventing me from yelling. Not that I remembered how to speak. My brain had shut down.
The footsteps entered the room but I couldn't see who they belonged to.
"Get off him!" I heard them shout.
Quicker footsteps followed, probably because they heard the shouting. A figure, who I assumed was a teacher, pulled Jake off me and out of the room. I continued to cry silently.
It may have been over but I still felt dirty. I could feel his filthy little hands on my skin. I could feel his lips on mine. I wanted to be sick.
I pulled my legs up to my chest as someone, presumably a teacher, walked over and sat down beside me. They reached out to touch me, most likely meant for support, but I flinched away from them.
"Don't touch me!" I cried, hiding my face in my knees.
"Jim?" The person beside me asked. I recognised their voice as one of the gym teachers but it wasn't as comforting as it should have been.
"Don't..." I sobbed, running my shaking hands through my hair. I pulled at the strands angrily, "Don't touch me..."
"It's alright, Jim." The teacher persisted, "You're safe now." Bullshit.
Bull-fucking-shit.
"Everything's going to be okay." Lies. All of it.
The man kept talking and I kept ignoring him. Of course I was grateful that he intervened, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.
So much for avoiding getting hurt...