John wiped Ally's lip gloss off his lips as they left to return to the party. Beaming with the glow of a long make-out and heavy-petting session, they walked down the stairs creating plans for the following weekend.

"I'm so happy this worked out," she said. "I've been building up my courage since, like, the first day of school."

John wasn't used to being liked. Girls settled on him, sometimes, but even those had been scarce. "I'm glad it worked too. But I should really go find Sherlock."

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. She pecked him affectionately on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

John checked outside first, but found nothing other than his obnoxious friends. Anderson, who was barely able to form a complete sentence, placed his hand heavily on John's shoulder.

"Sherlock… God, his face! Asking for you like a… like a… I don't know."

"Right," said John, pulling away irritably. "Have you seen him?"

Anderson shrugged and staggered away. John checked the kitchen, the living room, the hall. The house was flooded with people, but John couldn't find Sherlock anywhere.

Finally, John checked an upstairs bedroom. The place was a ghastly shade of pink. Inside, there were about ten teens sitting around in a circle. If John's senses hadn't been assaulted instantly by the smell of smoke, alcohol, and pot, John might have seen Sherlock in a second. Instead, he took a moment to scan the room, seeing the wobbly teens, before his eyes finally settled on Sherlock.

He was wrapped in a large, white sheet, and his wet curls clung to his forehead. He focused on John for a moment, his ocean-colored eyes red around the edges.

"Jawn," he said.

John sat at his side in the circle. "Are you wearing any pants?"

"No."

"Right…"

Sherlock laughed, and despite himself, John did too.

"My clothes were wet," Sherlock noted. "But you wouldn't know about that seeing as you were a bit occupied snogging Ally Hooper, unless that's your usual shade of lip gloss."

"Yes, well, sorry about that," John answered awkwardly. "I didn't mean—"

"Don't lie, John, you aren't good at it," Sherlock cut in, rolling his eyes (a movement that set him off balance, forcing him to sway backward). "I've known since you invited me that it'd be for the benefit of your mates."

"I… What? Then why would you even come?!"

Sherlock's lip twisted upward in one corner. "Your pal Malcom isn't hard to pick-pocket from." From beneath his sheet, Sherlock withdrew a small bag—the contents, John could only guess.

"Aye, it landed on you Sherlock!" cried some blonde chick, sitting on top her boyfriend's lap, across the circle. Sure enough, a beer can pointed promptly in Sherlock's direction.

The game, from what John had picked up from just barely listening, forced the person at the slim end of the bottle to be subject to a dare as chosen by the others.

"Oh alright. What will it be then?" Sherlock slurred.

"Kiss Rose!" said a girl to their left.

"What? NO!" giggled the blonde while the boy beneath her threatened to "Kick Sherlock's arse" is he agreed.

"I've had quite enough arse-kicking tonight," Sherlock pointed out.

"Fine, kiss someone else then!"

In the time it took John to blink, Sherlock's lips were against his. He kissed forcibly, determinedly, leaving John breathlessly savoring the bittersweet alcohol taste of his mouth.

It ended before John could protest. The strangers around him were laughing, cheering, and whistling. But all was drained out except for Sherlock. Looking at his eyes directly, there was something new behind the boy's penetrating stare, something vengeful and merciless. He smirked. "John Watson is a faggot," he said matter-of-factly.

More laughter. John sat frozen with the realization of what had just happened. Sherlock had outed him. Anxiety felt hot in his chest and stomach. God, this news would spread like wildfire.

"That's not true," he managed. "I'm not gay!"

But the group of people shrugged him off. Sherlock spun the bottle and the game began again. John only barely heard the drunken joke as he fled the room. "You don't have to leave, Watson! Stick around and maybe another boy will want to kiss ya!"