A/N So this started out as just a cute fluffy story and it kinda went another direction.....so SMUT WARNING!!!! Enjoy <3
"Sherlock, what the hell are we still doing here?" John shifted uncomfortably and shot his boyfriend a glare. They were in a gay bar, trying to gather information on a suspect, and John was having the worst time. The music was too loud, there were far too many people, and all of them seemed to have eyes for the great detective.
"John, you know why we came in here. If you are uncomfortable then feel free to leave, I will text you when I am finished."
"No, there is no way in hell I am leaving you here. Not when you are following a suspect. Especially not when you look like that." Sherlock smirked and took a sip of his water. He was wearing his purple shirt, the one that accented his pale skin, and a pair of too tight skinny jeans. He looked like he belonged in the club; the bright flashing lights catching his eyes, making them sparkle deviously. He swayed gently to the thumping music; his subtle actions making John's imagination wonder just what it would look like to see him dancing.
"Hey gorgeous, do you want to dance?" John shot a seething glare at the new man that was pressed far too close to Sherlock.
"No he doesn't." John growled, no longer able to contain his frustration. The man ignored him and continued trying to get Sherlock's attention. He was young, attractive, and looked like he would be a much better match for the detective. John felt his anger fizzle out as he thought about what an odd couple him and Sherlock made. He was old, grey, and his once firm body was starting to become more flab than muscle. Sherlock was still young, all pale skin and lean muscles.
"I appreciate the offer, but I am here with my boyfriend." Sherlock tried to reject the man as politely as possible. John was brooding now, having given up on being angry at the pair.
"He's your boyfriend? I thought he was your-" John felt his heart break at the young man's words.
"Before you finish that phrase, I should warn you that insulting the man I am with is really not a great idea if charming me is what you had planned. I have made my opinion clear, and I would appreciate it if you would leave us alone."
"Hey man, no need to be an asshole."
"I'm the asshole, you have just approached me asking me to dance with you hoping it would end with quick shagging in the bathroom, but I am the asshole? Why don't you scurry on back to your disappointing lover you left at home and get fucked?" John spewed his drink at those words, trying desperately to contain the laughter that threatened to spill from his lips. It wasn't often Sherlock cursed in front of strangers; keeping it reserved for people he was comfortable with and for moments of passion. The young man moved quicker than John would have thought possible, swinging his fist and catching Sherlock in the Jaw, sending him flying backwards off the stool.
"What the fuck!" John leapt to his feet and grabbed the guy, pushing him off Sherlock before sending him flying with his own punch. It didn't take long before the three of them were dragged from the club by the bouncer. As soon as they hit the pavement, the young man that had attacked them ran off, throwing obscenities back at them.
"Are you alright John?" Sherlock stumbled over to John, checking the doctor for any injuries.
"I'm fine." John brushed off the detective's hands, clambering to his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm going home. Call me when you are finished here." He turned to leave but was stopped by fingers gripping his elbow.
"John, what's wrong? Talk to me, please." John felt his heart break when he heard the concern in his lover's voice.
"He thought I was your father." The fingers on his elbow tightened slightly, but neither man moved.
