Sherlock shook the new kid, trying to wake him from his nightmare. The blonde whimpered and clutched at his sheets. Sherlock considered dousing him in cold water, but he figured that'd just make it worse. Instead, he shook harder and patted the boy's cheek.

"Come on…John? It's John isn't it?" Sherlock called to the thrashing boy, "Wake up now! Come on!"

The boy suddenly sat straight up the in air, bumping against Sherlock.

"S-s-sorry," he stuttered.

"It's ok, you were having a nightmare," Sherlock stated, "I was just trying to wake you up."

"Th-thanks," John answered, shakily.

"Your name is John, isn't it?" Sherlock questioned, "There were three new students, but based on what I can deduce from you, you must be John Watson. A Scotsman, yes? I didn't realize they were going to put you in this room. Oh, and your alcoholic brother has been texting you quite a while now."

John gaped up at him and then scrambled for his phone.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he muttered as he fumbled in the dark for it.

"I have it," Sherlock said, watching in amusement, "Your phone, I have it."

"Oh, thank god! I thought I'd lost it!" John reached out a hand in the dark.

Sherlock hissed and backed away from the hand, dropping the phone in it. John's face lit up as he unlocked the phone and scrolled through his messages. His face rapidly fell as he read through them. Sherlock observed all this and tucked it away in his mind palace in a corner that was now dedicated to his new roommate. John typed a small message in reply, before dropping his phone in his lap and burying his face in his hands. Sherlock tilted his head; absorbing every signal that John was giving off.

"Is something wrong?" Sherlock questioned.

John jumped slightly, apparently having forgotten that Sherlock was there.

"Yeah, no," John shook his head, "Just Harry being Harry."

"He has tried several times to quit," Sherlock stated, "Doesn't seem to be working for him. Especially with this recent split. Were they engaged? It seems that they were. A few years maybe?"

"How did you know that?" John asked in wonder.

"What? Oh, right," Sherlock shrugged, "Your phone says "To Harry from Clara" very serious gift for just dating, hence engaged, perhaps actually wedded? But he gave the phone to you, which means they broke it off and he doesn't wish to keep a gift from his ex. You're recently home from boarding school, then? That's why you needed a phone. Did your family lose money or did you just miss them?"

John blinked and then his face brightened into a huge grin that caused Sherlock to blink several times, as though adjusting to the light after being in the dark.

"You're brilliant!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Sherlock questioned in confusion.

"I said you're brilliant!" John restated, glowingly.

"Ah, oh, um, thank you," Sherlock said, uneasily.

Sherlock shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the praise. His intention had been to clearly show John Watson what he was from the beginning instead of hiding like he normally did. Usually that just ended in pain and misery. He wasn't prepared for John to like his deductions.

"You got something wrong though," John inserted in Sherlock's thought train.

"What?" Sherlock snapped, "What did I get wrong?"

"Harry is short for Harriet," John answered.

"A sister…ah, that explains…" Sherlock blushed and turned away.

"Explains what?" John questioned.

"Just the awkward questions she was asking," Sherlock said, "I thought it was strange for a brother to ask such things. My brother never asked me, um, about sexual things, anyway. Of course, we aren't traditional brothers."

"I wouldn't know, really," John shrugged, "I've just got Harry. Sometimes she's like an older brother, but most of the time she's like an annoying best friend."

"Are you uncomfortable with her questions about homosexuality?" Sherlock questioned.

John choked slightly, blushing.

"No, I've gotten used to it," John answered.

"So have you had anal sex, as she asked?" Sherlock inquired.

"Quite curious, aren't you?" John retorted.

"Sorry, I require copious amounts of information about people," Sherlock answered, "So you have. Was it enjoyable? Would you do it again?"

"Partially, and yes," John answered calmly.

"Did you receive or give?"

"Received."

"Have you done it only once?"

"Yes."

"Were you in a relationship with that person?"

"No, it was a midnight fumble."

"Do you still communicate with him?"

"No, he gave me a fake number."

"Do you wish you could?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"He hurt me. There's no point."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Ha. No. we've just been talking about how I enjoy anal sex."

"You could be bisexual. Are you?"

"No. Straight as pink circle, I'm afraid."

"Are you attracted to me?"

"Yes."

"Do you think other homosexual men are attracted to me?"

"Definitely."

"Do you think you are attractive to homosexual men?"

"I don't know. Do you think I'm attractive?"

Sherlock faltered for a moment.

"Yes. Would you have sex with me?"

"Once we got to know each other better."

"You wouldn't have sex with me right now?"

"No."

"Why?"

"First of all, I'm not like that. Secondly, even if I was like that we're roommates. That'd be just outright awkward. And who knows, you may decide I'm some sort of psychopath."

"I assure you, it would be the other way around."

"Do many people think that?"

"Yes."

"Is it true?"

"No, I'm a high-functioning sociopath."

"That means…no emotions right?"

"Right."

"Liar."

Sherlock looked at him in shock. John was scowling at him.

"You've got them. You're just trying to suppress them. You think you're safer that way."

Sherlock felt a shock go through him as he thought, he just…he just deduced me!

"You're wrong, by the way. Suppressing feelings just makes it worse."

Sherlock gaped at the blonde for several moments. John grinned up at him and wiggled back down under his sheets. Sherlock stood there, waiting for a long time. John sighed and looked up at him.

"Don't like it when people do it to you, do you?" John said with a smirk.

"I don't know," Sherlock admitted, "This is the first time it's happened."

John laughed and the sound tickled Sherlock's ears and heart. He frowned at that sensation.

"Go to sleep," John instructed in a bemused voice, "Oh, by the way, what's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock answered, as he shuffled back over to his bed.

John snorted.

"Parents thought they were funny then?" John questioned.

"Thought they were hilarious," Sherlock responded, lying down on his bed, "My brother's name is Mycroft."

John laughed again and snuggled into his pillow. Sherlock watched him sleep for a few moments. He processed through the plethora of information that John had presented him with. Who is this boy?...he wondered briefly as he drifted into sleep.