A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Man...I'm on a bloody roll these days!!! Here's hoping I can stick with it, eh? Anyway... Here is another chapter!!! This one needs a bit of a SMUT WARNING!!!! Also... fair warning...this one has a bit of angst...I know I said this book would not have much angst, but I've had a really stressful couple days and I had to release stress somehow... what better way to do so then to put our boys through hell ;) I think we are getting pretty close to the end of this book tho... be ready ;) anyway... hope this doesn't suck... Enjoy <3

"Hey! Freak!" It took Sherlock longer than it should have to process the voice that came from behind him. By the time he was able to react, a hand was gripping his shoulder and spinning him, shoving him roughly against the lockers.
Sherlock felt a flash of fear as his attacker knocked his books from his hands, scattering them across the empty halls. Anderson, the boy that was attacking him, laughed, sending panic lancing through Sherlock's body.

"What's wrong Tinkerbell? Not so brave without your little army standing behind you, yeah?" Sherlock tried to free himself, slapping Anderson's hands away and pushing off the locker, getting about a foot before he was thrown back. He yelped as his head connected with the locker, blinking rapidly to try to dispel the stars from his vision.

"Get off me." Anderson laughed again, keeping Sherlock pinned in place with a hand against his chest. The shorter boy shook his head, pulling away from Sherlock slightly.

"How many of them have you fucked eh? The whole team? Or is it just Watson and Lestrade?" Sherlock felt his cheeks darken as he struggled against the other boy. "The whole school thinks you're a slag, you know. Everyone knows you let the Captain of the rugby team pass you around like some group fuck toy-"

"Stop it-" Pain flowered across his jaw as Anderson's fist connected with his face. Tears slipped from his eyes as he struggled to escape, making his attacker laugh harder. "S-Stop, please-"

"You do know that no one likes you, right? Not even your precious boyfriend likes you. He just keeps you around 'cause you let him fuck you." Sherlock closed his eyes, shaking his head and trying to keep the harsh words out of his mind. "He's just pissed 'cause Mary Morstan wouldn't suck him off at the end of summer party, so he wooed the most untouchable guy in the school, just to prove he could."

"Get fucked, Anderson." Sherlock snapped, shoving the other boy away. "John Watson loves me, something I'm sure you know nothing about-"

"Watson doesn't love you, Tinkerbell. At least he won't when he hears what you did." Panic flooded Sherlock's mind at the cruel smile of Anderson's face. "Imagine how hurt your precious captain is going to be when he hears how easily you hit your knees for me. The school whore, just begging to be fucked-"

Sherlock fled, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he stumbled home, trying desperately to ignore Anderson's voice as it echoed through his mind. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had spread a rumour about him, but this one could easily destroy something he loved more than anything.

Hey Tiny Dancer! - JW
Didn't see you at school today... Everything okay? - JW
Hey... What's going on? - JW
Babe? - JW
Sherlock answer me - JW
Babe... People are talking... - JW
Sherlock please talk to me - JW

Sherlock turned his phone off, slipping it under his pillow and burrowing further under the blankets. He couldn't face John, not after this.

His computer dinged, notifying him that someone was trying to message him. He swung out of bed and grabbed the laptop, opening his messenger app before he could stop himself.

Hey - JW
Answer me please - JW
What did Anderson do to you? - JW
Sherlock - JW
Please talk to me - JW

Sherlock fought back the tears that tried to fall. He knew that he had done nothing wrong, but that didn't mean that John would believe him.

I'm sorry John - SH

What? Why are you sorry? - JW
Babe? - JW
What did he do? - JW

Sherlock closed his computer and returned to his spot under the blankets, wiping tears off his cheeks.

"Sherlock?" The dancer stumbled out of his routine, turning away from the boy that was standing in the entry way. He had managed to successfully avoid John for three days, skipping class and changing the hours he had booked for the studio. "Harry told me you would be here."

"J-John-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" Sherlock flinched, blinking away tears as he heard the pain and anger in his boyfriend's voice.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Sherlock, look at me." He shook his head, wiping a tear off his cheek. A hand gripped his elbow, trying to turn him around. "Sherlock please-" John spun him, pulling a gasp from the taller boy as he was crowded back against the mirror. Sherlock tilted his head back, trying to hide the bruise that Anderson had left on his chin. "Christ Babe, did he-"

"J-John I-"

"Answer me, Sherlock. Did Anderson do this to you?" Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes tightly and trying to keep his breathing steady. John pushed away from Sherlock, tugging at his hair and breathing erratically. "Fucking cock-sucker! I'm going to kill him!" Sherlock blinked at the angry boy, trying to process what was happening.

"Y-You- you're mad at him?" John spun to face Sherlock, his face red and tears in his eyes.

"Of course I'm fucking mad at him! He hurt you!" John stepped closer to Sherlock, grabbing his hips and tugging him closer. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening, Love? I-I would have- I would have stopped them." Fresh tears fell from Sherlock's eyes as John leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "J-Just, please tell me it's not true. Tell me you didn't-" Sherlock shook his head frantically, leaning down to kiss the shorter boy timidly.

"I-I would never- he said-" John shook his head, kissing Sherlock again, slightly deeper than before. "Everyone thinks-"
John stopped his words with another kiss, pressing Sherlock back against the mirror.

"Fuck what everyone else thinks. They're just jealous of us." Sherlock chuckled, dropping his head against his boyfriend's shoulder and giggling. "I don't blame them, I'd be jealous too if you were with someone else." Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's neck, blushing and hiding his face as he felt John begin to laugh along with him. "Seriously though Babe, where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?" Sherlock sobered almost immediately, guilt pushing at his chest uncomfortably.

"I-I'm sorry. I just- I was af-afraid-" Another kiss calmed him, bringing his mind back to the boy before him, letting him focus his thoughts.

"You thought I'd believe him." The hurt in John's voice pulled more tears from Sherlock's eyes. He fought against a sob that rose in his chest and nodded timidly, not meeting John's eyes.

A pair of lips, the ones he loved so much, crashed against his own, pulling a startled sound from his chest.

"God, you're a bloody git sometimes, you know that?" John growled against his lips, sucking and biting the bottom one as firm hands pressed his hips back against the mirror. "You know, I've been here for an hour, watching you dance."
Sherlock gasped as John's lips moved down to his neck, leaving a dark bruise there. "You have no idea what you do to me Love."

Sherlock's mind spun as he felt John's fingers slip under his shirt, tracing the lines of his hips with practiced ease.

"F-Fu- J-John-"

"How long do you have the studio for Love?"

"U-Until- until six thirty." John glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, smirking dangerously up at Sherlock as he slid down to his knees. "J-John-"

"Perfect. Lot's of time then." Sherlock bit his lip against a whimper, dropping his head back against the mirror as John quickly worked his leggings down far enough so they weren't in his way.

A loud gasp escaped Sherlock as he felt John's mouth gently take the tip of his erection in his mouth, sucking softly and sending shocks of pleasure along his spine.

When it came to physical strength, both boys were pretty close to tied, but it was in moments like these when Sherlock found himself thanking every deity he could think of that his boyfriend was a Rugby player. The older boy was able to keep Sherlock's hips pinned against the glass with little effort as he slowly worked more of his length into his mouth.
John pulled off Sherlock's member, smirking up at the dancer before taking three of his own fingers into his mouth, wetting them with saliva thoroughly.

A high-pitched whine escaped Sherlock as one of John's fingers pressed into him. There wasn't nearly enough lubrication, and it burned to the point of discomfort. He shook his head, squirming slightly.

"Okay Love?" He debated nodding, just sucking it up and taking it, but it was painful and he didn't want to upset John again. He shook his head, whimpering as John slowly slid the finger out.

"M-My bag, l-lubricant-" John hurried to his feet, catching Sherlock's lips in a rough kiss before crossing the room to rifle through Sherlock's bag.

"Why do you have lube in your dance bag?"

"M-Mrs. Hudson insisted I be prepared for anything." John's cheeks darkened as he laughed, returning to stand in front of Sherlock, lubricant in hand.

"You're sure about this? We can stop if-"

"John, I haven't seen you in three days, I really don't want to stop right now." John laughed, kissing him again before he lowered himself to his knees, popping open the cap on the bottle with a dangerous smirk.

John prepared Sherlock's body to accept him with ease, the process easier than it had ever been, and within minutes, he was rising to his feet, Sherlock's legs hooked over his elbows as he lined himself up and pressed in.

They were still for a while once he was fully seated, Sherlock's breathing going from erratic to slightly faster than normal. John leaned in closer, his erection brushing against Sherlock's prostate and making the younger boy's vision flash with stars. John's forehead rested against Sherlock's, their breath mingling as his hips started moving.

"Fuck- so gorgeous Love-" John whispered, kissing Sherlock deeply, catching a loud moan that nearly fell as he pressed against his prostate roughly.

"J-John- John please-" The older boy started moving his hips faster, the angle of his thrusts changing just enough to ensure he hit Sherlock's prostate with every action.

Sherlock came first, staining his t-shirt and nearly ripping John's jumper as he tried to silence his cries. John followed close behind, spilling deep within Sherlock's body as he muffled his own sounds against the taller boy's neck.

They slid to the floor, a tangle of limbs and sweat as the giggled breathlessly into each other's neck.

"Christ, I missed you." John whispered, pressing soft kisses to whatever skin he could reach.

"I'm so sorry, John." The older boy shook his head, smiling softly at Sherlock.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for Love, just promise you'll talk to me next time, yeah?" Sherlock smiled shyly, nodding timidly before pushing at his boyfriend's shoulders. "Alright, calm down there, Tiny Dancer."

"Get off, you're heavy and sticky. Not to mention you are making an absolute mess of the floor."

"Oi! You're the one with come leaking out of his arse." Sherlock felt his cheeks darken as John helped him to his feet.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine. I can't help how fucking hot you look when you're dancing." John laughed again as Sherlock's cheeks darkened further.

They adjusted their clothes and collected Sherlock's things, leaving the studio hand-in-hand.

As they were leaving the school, Sherlock caught sight of Anderson, leaning against the wall of the school. There were bruises covering his face, and his nose looked as though it had been broken several times over. He had a cast on one of his wrists, and when he met Sherlock's eyes, the terror that crossed his face was difficult to miss.

"John?"

"Yes, Tiny Dancer?"

"What happened to Anderson?"

"Got in a fight."

"John-"

"It wasn't me! He must have pissed off someone else-"

"Like Geoffrey, or Michael?"

"Possibly."

"John-" Sherlock stopped walking, glaring at his boyfriend. "How do you think it's going to look when word gets out that the whole football team ganged up on him after he attacked me? People already think I'm fucking half of them-"
"They don't now. I made it very clear that anyone who says anything remotely close to that again will wind up just like him." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but was distracted by John's lips pressing against his own. "You're mine, Sherlock Holmes, and I don't like sharing my things, not even in people's minds."

"I love you, John."

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer."