Author's note: This is the end, folks. I know it's a little short, but I really feel like it ends here. Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and support. I won't be a stranger if you all won't. :) -Rowena

Chapter 7

John tried his best to avoid Sherlock for the next couple of weeks. He would purposefully take longer routes to avoid awkwardness. He would return to the room only to sleep. It wasn't that he didn't like him; he was just confused and didn't know what to say.

Still, he did notice his roommate and became increasingly aware of a boy that Sherlock was spending time with. He found out that his name was Moriarty, but he didn't know what else.

"Moriarty?" Oliver had answered. "Yeah, that's a guy you don't want to mess around with. He's got his hands in everything."

He continued to observe from a distance as well, but he couldn't fight a rising ping of jealousy when he saw the two together.

John thought he would be able to ignore it but that was until he saw Moriarty kiss Sherlock in one of the halls after class. John had spun on his heel and ran, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the feeling of tears from flowing from his eyes.

Moriarty had caught Sherlock off guard with the kiss. Yes, he enjoyed spending time with him, but if anything; their past relationship was enough to prove they were not good romantic partners. And, well, he still held a candle for John.

Sherlock pulled from the kiss almost immediately.

"James…"

"What is it?"

"We can't do this."

"Why as hell not?"

"We've tried this before," Sherlock answered, "and it didn't work. You know that."

Moriarty nodded, but had a glint of something in his eye.

"It's someone else, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I can tell. You stare off into space and smile," Moriarty said, straightening his tie, "I don't think I've ever seen you do that before."

"I don't…know what it is."

"Must be something then."

"He…I gave him some time to think…to decide what he wants because he hasn't found himself yet." Sherlock said.

"That sounds really new-age of you, Sherlock."

Sherlock shot him a look.

"James, please."

"All I know is that if your mind can be distant while kissing this," Moriarty said, emphasizing his body, "Then he has to be the best kisser in the world."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

"Let me know how it goes," Moriarty said with a wink.

"And if he says no, tell your mystery man to come my way."

"Goodbye James."

The rainstorm had hit suddenly and forcefully, canceling anything outside and threatened to kill power at St. Bart's. Naturally, the boys were riled up from being cooped up so, the headmaster and staff announced that all boys were to go into the main ballroom to play sports and socialize with others. It was a half-hearted attempt to keep the boys from getting into serious mischief.

Sherlock, who was currently studying the growth of mold on the school's bread, ignored the message and continued his work.

There was a knock on the door and Sherlock opened the door, only to have John run through, slamming the door behind him and kissing Sherlock smack on the lips. His weight pushed the two unto Sherlock's bed. The two could barely keep their mouths and hands off one another and like two horny teenagers, the seconds turned to minutes.

Sherlock knew he should stop and be angry at John, but looking into the boy's eyes

Breathless, the two finally broke apart, but they leaned together

"Um, hi," was all Sherlock could manage.

"I missed you," John said, keeping his eye contact.

"I missed you."

"I'm so sorry," John continued, "and I know I can't tell you how much, but I am."

Sherlock smiled and nodded. He ran his left hand through John's hair, just like the first time they had been together.

"Of course I forgive you," Sherlock said, "and damn was it boring without you."

"What about that guy? The one I saw you kissing."

"James? He surprised me with that, I swear. We had something in the past, but I told him I'm not really interested," Sherlock said, kissing John's forehead. "Besides, he could tell there was someone else I was thinking of."

"Oh really?"

John kissed Sherlock again, rubbing against the man beneath him. The friction of clothing and body upon body was driving John crazy. Sherlock reversed them, so that he was on top of John. He pinned the man's hands against the bed board.

"Gotcha."

John leaned forward and kissed the boy on top of him.

"You do."

Sherlock smiled and began to crawl off, but John stopped him. His eyes were almost black with lust and he was breathing heavily. Sherlock swallowed hard.

"Come here Sherlock…"

And the two pulled themselves together and became a mass of tangled limbs, mouths, tongues, and gentle touches of flesh upon flesh. Sweat poured off the heated bodies as they moved together and just like puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly.

Later, the two boys lay together in Sherlock's bed, cradled together. Sleep was trying to take them, but they both tried to keep themselves awake and stare into each other's eyes.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock had never felt this way about anyone or anything in his life. Yes, he had his problems and John did as well, but together, he really believed that they could handle anything.

"I love you too, John Watson."