One leg slips either side of Sherlock's waist, our bodies moulding into one as I practically attack his mouth with my own. It's obvious we're both angry and that we're going to have to talk properly but I have no chance of pulling myself from him now, not that I want to. 

I'm not so much grinding down into him as rolling against him, teasing us both with lack of contact in the right places. Inexperience is only part of it; it's mainly due to the fact his mouth is just so talented (and his tongue) and it's really damn distracting (even with my cock slowly getting harder and needing attention). 

Sherlock pushing himself up, still kissing me as he does. He tugs at the hem off my soft, grey top. 

"Off" He mutters. 

I pull back and raise my arms, alllowing him to take the article of clothing off. Once it's off, I try to lean forward and join our lips again but he keeps me away, his hand on my shoulder as his eyes take in the sight of me. 

After the Oral exam, the most we've done is given each other a hand job. Neither of us are ready to risk derobing in the classroom. As time goes on, I imagine we'll get far more adventurous but it's early days. All that means this is the first time Sherlock has seen me without a top on. He's felt my stomach and arms with his hands before, but never seen them. 

I feel as though I should blush and be uncomfortable under the scrutiny (because, believe me, my body is nothing special) but I don't. 

Sherlock's fingers run down my chest and he pinches my stomach with a small smile. I yelp and glare at him. When he laughs, I use the fact he's not focused to my advantage and surge forwaard to attach my lips to his neck. 

I suck at the base of his throat, a little unsure at first. His breathing hitches and the laughter halts so I take that as a good sign he doesn't mind love bites. I suck at his skin, pulling it deep into my mouth and just hoping I'm doing it right. 

Sherlock pants and so I pull back after a few moments, glancing down at the red mark left there. It wouldn't bruise but with luck I'll see it tomorrow morning when I wake up in his bed. I'd told my mum that I was staying over at my science partner's house to do my school project that doesn't actually exist so I was free to stay here.

Sherlock smiles and pulls me closer, pushing our groins together. I groan at the feeling, my prick hardening. I let out a breath and Sherlock watches me with lust darkened eyes, as if he'd never seen anything sexier than me breathing. 

 Sherlock's a bit of a weird one, isn't he?

He's sexy though and that more than makes up for the oddness. I'm not exactly the best example of normality myself.

Smiling to myself, I tug Sherlock closer by his collar and kiss him once again. It's not heated or rush but it's not exactly slow and tender either, just somewhere in between. The adrenaline and anger from the argument hasn't fizzled out just yet but we're not exactly focused on that. 

 Besides, I know that most of my anger is due to the fact I'm horrible at controlling my temper. Right now, I'm more interested in have a rough snog session with my beautiful French teacher rather trying to address the obvious issues I have. 

"Baiser" Sherlock whispers the word between pants once we've pulled apart. 

I raise an eyebrow. 

"It's French for fuck" Sherlock explains.

I roll my eyes at that. "You're an idiot"

"Says the person dating two people" Sherlock snaps, his eyes egniting with fury for the second time. 

Sighing, I sit move back so I'm sat on my heels. Right. Time to try and explain this, then. Rather obviously, I'd prefer the kisses and maybe a hand job on the sofa but clearly that's not happening. At least, not until after this conversation (fingers crossed). 

Sherlock speaks again before I even gather my thoughts enough to think what to say. "So, you're bi and have a girlfriend?" There's an unmistakable bitterness in his voice and he practically spits the words at me. 

I guess it does make sense how bitter he is but he could at least give me a fucking chance to explain before he gets all judgemental and snappy. 

"No" I correct, my own voice turning cold. "I'm gay and just in a relationship wi-"

"With a girl" Sherlock deadpans, interrupting me. 

I glare at him and Sherlock's face falls, perhaps realising that my anger is growing. He nods for me to continue as I dig my nails into the sofa, taking my emotions out of the furniture rather than Sherlock. 

"I'm gay, 100% bent, all right?" I snap at him before taking a breath. Calm, Jim, calm. "I'm with Molly because she's the only person in that school that I can bare. We went on a date and then she just assumed I was her boyfriend. If I correct her and tell her I wasn't even listening to her when she asked me out, I'll lose my only friend" 

Sherlock nods and winces. His eyes are cast down, distracted and definitely not focused on me. 

Temper flaring, my nostrils flare and I claw the sofa even harder. Sherlock winces again. 

"Are you even listening to me?!"

Sherlock gives a jerk of his head. "I- I am. Just.. Ah! Fuck, will you stop it? You're hurting me!"

I follow his line of sight to discover what I thought was the sofa was actually Sherlock's leg. So much for not taking in out on him...

Blinking, I lift my hand away and stare at the crumpled fabric of Sherlock's trousers. He let's out a sigh of relief when I lift my hand away. I guess that explains his distraction and winces. 

I look at my nails. "I need to cut my nails"

"That's what you're saying?" Sherlock snaps. 

I don't say a word and Sherlock stares at me, as if waiting for something. After a few long, stretched out, silent moments, he shakes his head and then sits up so he's not laying across the sofa anymore. His sad face is reminding me of me of the night I pushed Molly over on the 'date'. That annoying as fuck kicked puppy look. 

I'm not even that surprised that I was already fucking this up for us both. If I could just keep my mouth shut up and pay more attention, I'd be fine. However, I'd also probably have never told Sherlock that I overheard him jerking off in the classroom if I was able to shut my mouth. So it's not all doom and gloom. 

I move so I'm sat on the sofa properly, like Sherlock, and not sat uncomfortably on my heels. 

If I hadn't called him an idiot, I could be spending my time grinding into that beautiful body of his. That's probably just one sign that I'm the idiot. 

It's weird. I've never really been worried about things like other people's decision before. Usually, I wouldn't give a flying fuck if someone choose to be my friend or not but now.. I'm actually a bit scared he's going to say he wants to stop this thing that we've barely begun. 

Quickly, I grow bored of the silence. I turn to him. "Are we going to talk or are you going to sit there and act like I've just stabbed your pet unicorn?"

Sherlok snorts a laugh at that before he grows more serious and straightens. He keeps his eyes forward, not looking at him. Well, that's just a bloody great sign, I think with an eye roll as my own sarcasm. 

"So.." There's a slight pause. "Do you plan to keep seeing Molly?"

I don't need to think much about my reply. "No, I plan on letting Molly continue thinking that I am seeing her"

Sherlock falls silent again. 

I shiver slightly, becoming aware that I am topless and that the heating still hasn't been on all that long. My arms are beginning to prickle with goosebumps but I do't want to get up and fetch my top for two reasons. One, it feels like movig would disturb Sherlock's thoughtful silence and we need to have this conversation. And two, if I'm honest, I'm hopeful there's no need for me to get dressed. Ideally, after talking we'll go back to the kissing and grinding. 

"What now?"Sherlock questions, suddenly. I almost jump at the soud of his voice. 

"What?"

"What now?" He repeats, eerily calm and blank. 

I frown, bemused. "Isn't that sort of your choice?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well.. I'm technically the one that's doing wrong - sort of. So shouldn't you choose where we go now?"

I might have imagined it but I thought Sherlock looked hurt by my words. 

"You don't care what I decide?"

Yep. Definitely hurt. 

I shake my head and slide closer to him, our leg brushing slightly but not pressing together. "No, it's really not like that. Just.. it's your choice if you want to walk away from this because of the Molly thing"

Sherlock had looked at me when I spoke but after his eyes move off me and to the floor. "Do you kiss her?"

I realise, after registerig those words, that I still have many things to tell Sherlock. We don't really know each other that well. It's been two or three weeks since Ms Hudson left, I think. Not long at all. Anyway, one of those many things to tell Sherlock is how I very strongly dislike touching - except with him. 

Laughing a bit, I turn my upper body towards him. He looks up, a small (kinda cute) frown on his face. 

"You know.. Ever since I was little, I've abso-fucking-lutely hated touching people. I just can not handle it, it makes me sick to my stomach" As I speak, I make a point of takig Sherlock's hand and tangling our fingers. 

He looks down at our hands, frown still in place. His face is blank, I can't tell what he's thinking. "You touch me, though"

"Because I like you a lot. I want to touch you and be touched by you" I give him a reassuring smile. 

He doesn't smile back. "Do you touch Molly?"

"No" I shake my head. "I don't like her that way"

"Does she know that?"

"I've asked her to get me time. I hope, eventually, she'll get bored and end it. She deserves better, she'll realise that soon" It was the first time I'd said these things out loud. It feels pretty great to say it all, really. 

Sherlock gives me a small smile, shuffling closer and placing his hand on my knee. I'm not sure when I stopped holding his hand. "So you only like me touching you? No one else?" It's clear he knows the answer but just wants to hear me saty it. 

I smirk, glad he wasn't overreacting. He understood it enough to accept it. 

"Only you" I confirm, leaning towards him. 

Chuckling, he also leans closer. My eyes slide close when I realise what's coming and a moment later, sure enough, Sherlock's mouth covers my own, his tongue entering my mouth and brushing against mine. 

Humming appreciatively, I kiss back as good as I'm getting and push Sherlock bakwards so he falls back against the sofa again. 

Time to try this again. 

~

Question: How do you guys feel about the whole Jim/Molly situation? Do you think what he's doing is okay and justified or is he in the wrong? What should he do?