Author Notes: This story has two chapters and the second chapter is already in progress. I hope to be able to post it in a couple of weeks. :)

Warning: Homophobic language, violence and sexual assault (no actual rape)! If that bothers you in any way, please don`t read it.

Rest assured there will be a lot of Comfort in the next chapter.

Enjoy and let me know what you think of it!:)

Hurt and Pain

Steps on the stairs. Two pairs of feet. One wearing shoes with heels.

A woman!

Giggling in the living-room, drank a little too much, but not enough to get ill, a shame. Footsteps on the stairs to John`s room now. More giggling. Why did women always have to giggle? John`s bedroom door closing, two pairs of feet moving around upstairs, two people probably getting undressed. The creaking of the bed, laughter... they definitely had got undressed.

Sherlock pressed the pillow against his ears to block out the noises coming from upstairs. He had tried to keep himself from lingering on what John and his date were doing right now by deducing everything from the sounds he was forced to listen to. It hadn`t been a successful exercise, since it had made Sherlock even more aware of what John and the woman were up to.

A high pitched scream, filled with pleasure. Sherlock groaned and turned to his side, trying to block the noises out. It wasn`t that he wanted to go to sleep and it had never bothered him if his former flatmates - or the guys at university - had indulged in carnal activities, but this was... John. Sherlock didn`t want to listen to him making love to someone else... to someone who wasn`t Sherlock.

A bitter smile turned Sherlock`s lips upwards as he stared at the wall and followed the shadows, which the light of the streetlamp drew, with his eyes. It had been wishful thinking, until this evening, that John might one day return Sherlock`s affections and take him to bed. Yes, until today, Sherlock had been allowed to dream about that happening and imagine how it would play out, but now... Sherlock turned on his back and stared at the ceiling in the dark of his bedroom. John had made it more than clear that he would never think of Sherlock like that. He hadn`t left a doubt that all of Sherlock`s dreams would just remain that... dreams, never to be fulfilled.

"You are going out on a date." John stopped his pacing through the living room at Sherlock`s observation and turned to him. "I told you that I would, just a couple of hours ago, in fact."

Sherlock hummed noncommitally instead of answering and leaned back in his armchair, pretending to be absorbed in his reading. The book was about parasites and Sherlock would have been able to find it interesting, if he hadn`t been busy watching John getting ready for his outing.

"Melanie and I are going to the cinema and having dinner afterwards."

"Obvious," Sherlock muttered and looked up from his book, giving up pretence that he was actually taking in anything that was written on the pages. John always took his girlfriends to the cinema and to dinner on their third date, afterwards they would come back to the flat - or go to her place - and...

Sherlock curled his lips up in distaste. He didn`t want to imagine what John did with his girlfriends in bed, it hurt too much to think that they so easily got what Sherlock desired. "It`s fun to go out on dates, Sherlock. No need to look like Anderson is dancing through the flat in his underwear." A laugh escaped Sherlock at that remark. He didn`t tell John that he would prefer that to happen to John preparing to shag the next woman in a few hours. "I don`t see how a terrible movie and mediocre meal can be much worse than that scenario."

John huffed as he went in search of his mobile and his wallet in the living-room. They were under a pile of papers on the kitchen table, but Sherlock didn`t point that out. He rather enjoyed watching John bending over the couch to peek behind it. The tight jeans he wore, showed off his muscular legs and his firm buttocks. It had to feel great to grab them, pressing John against him, when they...

"You should try going out on dates as well, maybe you would understand then why people enjoy it so much." Sherlock blinked, forcing himself to pay attention to their conversation instead of daydreaming about John and him in bed. "I told you that this wasn`t my area."

John snorted, moving through the papers on his armchair, still in search of his belongings. "You said that girlfriends weren`t your area and that you are married to your work, you didn`t say anything about dating."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that and sighed inwardly. He really didn`t want to have a conversation with John about dating, especially since John was the only one, for which`s sake Sherlock would ever be able to endure a dull date like that. "I`m not dating."

Blue eyes looked startled at him, before their expression softened. "Sorry, I know that you don`t... I mean your brother said... Sorry, it`s really not my business... it`s fine, everything is..."

"Please, John," Sherlock heaved an exasperated sigh and moved to the kitchen table to retrieve John`s mobile and wallet for him. "Just because my brother mocks me about my sexual history, doesn`t mean that there is any truth in it."

"Eh okay."

Sherlock shook his head in annoyance. How could John truly believe that Sherlock hadn`t experimented with sex like he experimented with everything else?

"But Irene Adler, you seemed... out of your depth."

"And you can`t imagine that was only because I`m not interested in women and therefore don`t know how to handle it when one throws herself at me?" Christ, how did they start a conversation about their sexual preferences? And why had he just admitted that he didn`t know how to handle women? The evening was getting worse and worse.

John put his wallet and mobile in his jeans pockets, obviously stalling for time as he fumbled with his keys to put them in there as well. "Sorry," John finally looked up, a small blush in his cheeks. "I didn`t mean to imply anything, but... if you like men, why aren`t you..." He made a vague gesture with his hand and Sherlock wanted to scream in fury. It lay on the tip of his tongue to tell him that he didn`t seek out other men, because he wanted no one else, but the one ex-military doctor in his living-room, but he stopped himself before the words could come out. Instead, Sherlock snarled: "If I want to have someone in my bed, then I`m not so hypocritical that I have to go out on three dates to justify a night with him."

The expression on John`s face changed from curious to angry and cold in a heartbeat. "So, you are telling me that I only want to shag the women I`m going out with and that I should just take them home to ravish them, instead of dating them?" Sherlock knew that he shouldn`t say anything else, that it would be wiser to drop the matter entirely, because John was angry enough already, but he... just couldn`t do that. "Exactly, since you don`t seem to care for them after you have had them three or four times. It would be much easier for everyone to skip the boring pleasantries and get down to business right away."

John`s expression had become furious as he listened to him and Sherlock prepared himself for an outburst of some kind, but wasn`t able to foresee the effects of John`s next words. "Maybe, you can`t be bothered with such trivialities, but I certainly enjoy going out with women and," John glared at Sherlock. "They certainly enjoy going out with me. Maybe, you are only against dating, because no one could endure an evening in your presence. It certainly wouldn`t be my first choice to listen to tales of gruesome murders and disgusting experiments all evening long." Liar, Sherlock wanted to say, since John certainly enjoyed their evenings together, but the word was stuck in his throat. John`s words hurt and he wasn`t even finished yet. "No sane human being would want to shag you after hearing such tales all evening long. It`s off putting and I`m sure they would rather make a run for the door, instead of touching you, after you have shown them that you are..."

"What?!" Sherlock snapped, jumping up from his armchair - in which he had just sat down again - and rounding on John. "They would have noticed that I`m what exactly? A psychopath or... a freak?!" John took a step back, his eyes widening in panic as he stared at Sherlock, obviously just noticing what he had said. "Sherlock," he extended his hand, but Sherlock took a step back, shaking his head. "Don`t! You just implied how disgusting it is to touch me, so just don`t."

Sherlock turned around to his bedroom, slamming the door and locking it, before throwing himself on his bed, calling himself an idiot for ever hoping that John would want anything from him.

Afterwards, Sherlock had lain in bed, ignoring the knocking on his bedroom door and John`s apologizes, until John had finally given up and had gone out on his date. Of course, Sherlock was aware that John was sorry for what he had thrown at Sherlock, but that didn`t lessen the stabbing pain in Sherlock`s chest. John might not have meant what he had said, but he was still right.

Sherlock only admitted it reluctantly, but he had emotions after all and when he had been at university, he hadn`t been so adapt at hiding them as he was now. To be truthful, Sherlock hadn`t seen the need to hide his emotions back then. Partly, because he wanted to prove Mycroft wrong - who had always told him that emotions were a weakness - and also because Sherlock had wanted to feel like every other young man. Sherlock had wanted to fall in love to go out with someone he liked and enjoy their time together, only... He hadn`t been like other young men!

Sherlock took a shaky breath. John`s assumptions had been correct, no one had wanted to spend more time than necessary with him, disgusted by his descriptions of chemical experiments and annoyed that Sherlock wasn`t able to enjoy a noisy and dull evening at the pub. They had all made it very clear that they only wanted sex from him.

"That was fantastic, Holmes."

Sherlock watched as Michael got dressed, while lying between the rumpled sheets himself. He tried not to read too much in the use of his last name. Still, Sherlock couldn`t completely suppress the hurt it caused him. After all, they weren`t just fellow students, they had just... Christ, Michael had just been in Sherlock, had screamed in ecstasy when he had come and brought Sherlock to his climax as well. They should really be on first name basis. "Michael," Sherlock started and took heart in the fact that he wasn`t scolded for the use of the man`s given name. "We could go out tomorrow evening, if you like. There is a nice French restaurant..."

The cold stare of his lover stopped Sherlock midsentence. "Just for the record, Holmes, I don`t want to go out with you. If you want to fuck again, that`s great and I`m certainly up for it, but I don`t want to listen to your talks about parasites or serial killers." Michael curled his lips up in disgust. "It`s fucking off putting!"

Sherlock stared at him in disbelief. Parasites and serial killers were interesting and not in the least disgusting, but if Michael didn`t want to talk about them, Sherlock could certainly find a different topic to talk about. "We can talk about something else, it`s no problem..." Michael snorted as he buttoned up his shirt. "It`s a problem, because even if you don`t talk about so disgusting topics, you are still making deductions about everyone else. It`s unnerving. Everyone at university thinks so and I certainly don`t want to be associated with you."

That hurt, that really hurt, but Sherlock wasn`t ready to give up just yet. He rather liked Michael. He wasn`t as stupid as most blokes and Sherlock had watched him with one of his former lovers from afar. Michael was tender, gentle and romantic, everything that Sherlock was secretly dreaming of. "But I can..."

"No, Holmes, listen to me!" Michael glared at him as he collected his wallet and key from the nightstand. "I don`t want to go out with you. I don`t want to be your boyfriend. I don`t want to be seen with you outside this bedroom. Even if you manage to shut up, it`s still obvious that you aren`t normal. You are just fucking... freakish."

Sherlock wasn`t able to find a fitting response to that as he was too busy holding back his tears until Michael was out of the room. Only then, when the door had closed behind him, Sherlock allowed the moisture to fall.

It had been the last time, Sherlock had bothered to date anyone. After the disaster with Michael he had only indulged in anonymous sex to satisfy his body`s needs and his curiosity. That was, until John Watson had walked into his life and told Sherlock how brilliant his deductions were. Against his better judgment, Sherlock had started to hope that John would accept him like he was. That the only issue would be to make John admit that he wasn`t as uninterested in men as he tried to make everyone believe. Sherlock was fairly certain that John could appreciate a handsome bloke and that John only had to realize that he was bisexual, before Sherlock could make a move. But now...

"Oh yes, Joooohn!"

Sherlock gagged as he heard the high pitched scream and rolled himself out of his bed. He couldn`t stand it any longer, he had to go out, before he did something he would regret later - like murdering that stupid woman and having to ask Mycroft to hide everything. It took Sherlock only five minutes to choose his clothes - tight, black jeans, a blue t-shirt and a leather jacket - and then he was out of the flat. If John was able to shag a mindless woman, Sherlock certainly was able to get off with some stranger as well.

He hailed a taxi to one of the more popular gay bars in London.

OOO

"Where are you with your thoughts, John?" Startled, John met Melanie`s gaze and smiled ruefully at the beautiful brunette. He had had a great time with her, going to the cinema, having dinner and making passionate love to her only ten minutes ago. Really, he should be happy and content, instead of allowing his earlier argument with Sherlock to spoil his mood. Yes, he should enjoy that moment, snuggled against a beautiful, naked woman in his bed, but... He couldn`t, John`s mind always went back to the hurtful words he had thrown at Sherlock.

Alright, Sherlock had annoyed him and he had behaved like a real prat, but that wasn`t an excuse for John`s verbal abuse. Sherlock often behaved like that, making John angry for no reason and John had never reacted to one of Sherlock`s taunts like that. He had hurt Sherlock, deliberately, with his words and they had been completely untrue as well. John had never thought of Sherlock as a freak or a psychopath and he hadn`t wanted to make Sherlock feel like he did. He especially didn`t want Sherlock to believe that John thought him disgusting, when the opposite was the truth. Sherlock was...

"Who is Sherlock?"

John jerked up at that and stared in Melanie`s curious green eyes. Why did she ask him about Sherlock now? John had made a great effort to not mention Sherlock during all his dates with her and he didn`t know how she could know of him. "He is my flatmate." It was the truth after all, although John often wished that they were more than that... more than just friends that shared a flat. Undoubtedly, he had destroy every chance he had ever had for that tonight.

"He... so Sherlock is a man." Melanie sounded even more curious now and John frowned at that.

"Yes, he is, of course, he is." Had Melanie feared that John shared a flat with a woman? No, that couldn`t be it, John had mentioned that he shared the flat with a friend, but what...

"Why do you want to talk about him now?" His voice was sharper than John had intended it to be, but Melanie didn`t look alarmed by it. She just smiled and patted his arm gently. "I was just curious who you thought of when you slept with me."

John blinked. His confusion must have been shown on his face, since Melanie laughed quietly and shook her head at him. "Please, John, you screamed his name when you came." Heat crept into John`s face as his expression turned from confused to mortified. Dear God, what must Melanie think of him now? John couldn`t imagine how he would feel if one of his lovers screamed another name, when they were in bed with him. He would have fled the bedroom right away or demanded an explanation, but Melanie... she was perfectly calm. "I... Melanie, I`m sorry, it`s just..."

"Hush," she put a finger on his lips and silenced him. "It`s fine, no need to apologize. To tell you the truth," she sat up and leaned against the headboard of his bed. "I wanted to tell you that I don`t think it`s working out between us and I`m glad that you have feelings for someone else." John gaped at her. He had expected a lot of reactions, but certainly not that one. "So, you... I hope I didn`t force you or anything..." John knew that he had been eager to get in Melanie`s pants, especially after his row with Sherlock, when he had tried to forget how cruel he had been to him for some time. Melanie had willingly gone with him, but she had had a few drinks and maybe she had felt obliged to come with him and...

A delighted laugh stopped his train of thoughts and Melanie pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Please John, I said that it`s not working out between us, I didn`t say that I didn`t want to have sex with you. Don`t confuse the two. If I hadn`t want to sleep with you, I hadn`t done it, period." John merely nodded, still too startled to speak, but thankfully Melanie put him out of his misery. "So, now that we are clear on that and both our minds are at ease, you can tell me why you go out with me, when you are obviously in love with your male flatmate." Her words weren`t accusing or judging, just curious and a little amused and John found himself confiding in her.

"I`m bisexual and Sherlock isn`t the first bloke I have fallen for." Melanie only nodded, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder and urging him to continue. "I would have made a move on him, but..." John bit his lips, unsure if it was fine to reveal anything more personal to Melanie. After all, some of the things he wanted to say weren`t only his private secrets, but Sherlock`s as well.

"Is he straight?" John snorted and shook his head, deciding that he could trust Melanie with a few more information, especially since he felt like he would burst, if he didn`t talk about his feelings with someone. "I rather thought that he is asexual."

Melanie raised a silent eyebrow at him. "However did you come to that conclusion? And why would that have hindered you to show him how you feel? Love can be platonic as well, you know." John rolled his eyes at that, but smiled at the same time. Trust Melanie to act like the therapist she was, when they were lying in bed together. Well, at least her questions made more sense than the questions of John`s own therapist and she didn`t look at him like she already knew what he was going to say. "I know that love can be platonic, but I wouldn`t have been able to only love Sherlock in a platonic way, if I had confessed my feelings to him... and I wouldn`t have wanted to... search release elsewhere. Besides, I wasn`t even sure if such a confession would be welcome."

"Okay, I understand that." Melanie nodded and from the look she gave him, it was obvious that she spoke the truth. "And why are you so sure that he isn`t asexual after all?"

John sighed, recalling their row and what Sherlock had told him about his preferences and sexual history, before everything had gone down the hill. "He told me... in no uncertain terms that he is gay and has gained sexual experiences with men."

Now, it was Melanie`s turn to look startled at him. Her tongue peeked out between her lips as she regarded John with confusion. "Then why - for Christ`s sake - didn`t you tell Sherlock that you fancy him. And please," she glared at him. "Don`t say that our date was more important than that. I would have understood it and even if I hadn`t, it`s only normal to be selfish when it comes to love." John heaved a sigh. Melanie was right. He should have made a move on Sherlock and tested if his feelings would be welcome, instead John had...

"I hurt him."

"Physically?"

John`s eyes widened in shock at that question. "No, of course not, although," John buried his face in his hands as his cheeks flushed with shame. "Sherlock would have been more likely to forgive me if I had punched him in the face, instead of... what I did." Melanie`s fingers stroked his hair and John wondered how it was possible for her to sit here - naked - and have such a in depth conversation with him. "What did you do?"

John snorted and sat up as well, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the headboard.

"Oh nothing much, I just implied that he was disgusting and that no one would want to touch him. I might also have hinted that the men would only want to have sex with him and nothing else." John felt Melanie`s eyes boring in his skull. Perfect, he had even managed to shock an experienced therapist with what he had said to Sherlock. That boded very well for his planned apologizes, he thought cynical.

"John," Melanie gripped his wrists and forced them to his sides, away from his face as she straddled his lap to meet his gaze. Only half an hour ago that position would have been highly arousing, but it didn`t spark the slightest interest in John right now. "I don`t know Sherlock and I don`t know why you were so angry that you offended him like that, but you have to apologize to him." John exhaled loudly. Did Melanie think that he was such an idiot, that he didn`t know that himself? The question wasn`t if he was willing to apologize, but if Sherlock was willing to accept it.

"Tell him what you feel for him! Show him that you love him! Beg him on your knees for forgiveness if you have to, but don`t give up just after one apology."

"Why do you do that?" John was truly curious. Melanie had just told him that she didn`t want to be his girlfriend after all. It was one thing for her to be curious about Sherlock, but quite another to be so eager about Sherlock and him making up.

She gave him a rueful smile. "I made the same mistake, when I was younger. I allowed my mouth to speak, before I had the time to think my words through and at the end of the day, I had lost a great friend. I didn`t make the effort to truly apologize to him, back then and I still regret it. Maybe, that`s my way of trying to make up for it."

John groaned quietly. "I know that I have to apologize to him, but I can`t promise..." She interrupted him with a chaste kiss to the lips and rolled out of the bed. "Just give your best and be patient." Melanie had put her underwear, skirt and blouse back on, by the time, John finally realised what she was doing. "You are going?" She only rolled her eyes at him as she slipped her shoes back on and grabbed her handbag. "It wouldn`t help you if I were to stay the night, John. Tell me how it went though and if you need a friend to talk to, you have my number."

John couldn`t even formulate a reply, before Melanie hurried down the stairs. He listened to her high heels on the stone floor and the front door opening. That was the strangest date he had ever had, but for once John was glad that it had turned out like that. He had just lost a girlfriend, but probably gained a friend for a lifetime and... he had to apologize to Sherlock once more. Moaning, John swung his legs out of the bed and put on his jeans and t-shirt to go downstairs. He dreaded the conversation with Sherlock, but he was still disappointed when he found the flat empty. He even peeked in Sherlock`s - now open - bedroom, but it was obvious that Sherlock had gone out.

Sighing, John decided that he could as well take a shower and put some fresh clothes on, while he waited for his friend to come back home. It would certainly help a little, if John wasn`t smelling of sex, when he wanted to apologize to Sherlock. At least, John hoped that it would help - and that Sherlock would even be willing to listen to him - as he went to the bathroom.

OOO

It had been child`s play.

Sherlock had feared that he wouldn`t know anymore how to pull a bloke, but his worries had been unfounded. As soon as he had entered the Black Pool, Sherlock had been subjected to more advances than he had hoped for. Many blokes had been eager to get him on the dance floor, treat him to drinks and take him home with them. Sherlock hadn`t accepted any of these offers. He hadn`t wanted to go home with a stranger, indulge in small talk or get drunk. No, Sherlock had only been after someone to get him off fast... and he had found the perfect bloke for that.

"You`re beautiful," the man whispered from between his legs.

"Shut up and suck me!" Sherlock growled as he leaned back against the stone wall, outside of the club.

Blue eyes, clouded with lust, looked up at him as the man licked his lips. "Bossy, I like that!"

Before Sherlock could remind him once more that he hadn`t come here to talk, the man did as he was told and Sherlock leaned his head back against the wall. He could hear the nightly traffic, just around the corner of the club and the voices of men, almost drowned out by the beats that came through the open doors of the club. Sherlock glanced down at the man between his legs - light blond hair obscuring his face as he kneeled in front of him - and allowed himself the imagination that this was John. His mind created a scenario in which John had followed him to the club, scared off all of Sherlock`s admirers and brought him out here. John would have kissed him, told him how sorry he was for his words and how much he loved Sherlock and then...

"Ahhh, yes!" Sherlock groaned, his hips jerking as he got closer to his climax. He grabbed the hair of the man in front of him, trying to warn him that he was about to come, but if the bloke understood it, he still didn`t let go of Sherlock.

"God... John!" Sherlock screamed as he came into the willing mouth of the stranger, shaking as his orgasm washed over him. If it hadn`t been for the support of the wall, Sherlock`s legs would have buckled after his powerful climax. A few minutes, in which Sherlock concentrated on getting his breath back, passed as he allowed the stranger to tuck him back into his jeans. He would have to return the favor, Sherlock realised as the beating of his heart slowed down to normal again. He grimaced a little at that thought, but as cold hearted as Sherlock could be, it wasn`t in his nature to leave his sexual partners unsatisfied.

"I hope I was a good substitute!" Sherlock frowned at the bitter tone of the young man and managed to crack his eyes open. He almost flinched as he met the cold gaze of the stranger and noticed the other men that had gathered around him. Damned, he hadn`t noticed their arrival, since he had been to focused on the sensations that had run through his body.

"Gentlemen," Sherlock held up his hands in a gesture of peace offering as the men closed around him. "Don`t do anything you will regret later!" Blue eyes flickered fast from one man to the other, taking in their aggressive postures and trying to decide on the best course of action. The stranger, that had just sucked him off, was back on his feet, taking a place between the other men. Ten, Sherlock nodded with a sinking feeling in his gut. There were ten of them, including the stranger. He knew that he was more than capable of fighting, but Sherlock wasn`t prone to overestimating his own abilities. He wouldn`t be able to take them all down, so he had to try to escape before everything got out of hand.

"I hope you had some fun, faggot!"

Stupid, Sherlock chastised himself as the men grinned meanly at him. He should have realised that the stranger - who was patted on the shoulder by his friends - didn`t really belong in that club. Sherlock had often enough witnessed how men fell for that particular trick. A good looking bloke, offering them a blow job and getting them away from the crowd so that his friends could beat them up. Really, it was one of the oldest tricks and Sherlock had never fallen for it, not even when he had been high on cocaine. It was truly stupid. "His performance was rather mediocre," Sherlock replied bored and fingered for his phone in his back pocket. It was good that he had learned to send messages with closed eyes and his hands behind his back, otherwise he would be in even more trouble than he already was.

"Trying to be smart, we will see how cheeky you are when we are through with you." Sherlock pressed Send, prayed that it wouldn`t take the help to long to arrive and lunged himself at the bloke, closest to him.

It wasn`t what they had expected and Sherlock managed to bring the man down with a swinger to his kidney area, before the others were on him as well. Everything became a bit of a blur after that. Sherlock allowed his body`s instincts to take over, dealing out blows and kicks, ducking and blocking as he was attacked from all sides. Blood filled his mouth as a fist connected with his lips, but Sherlock just spat before landing a kick between the legs of one man. He went down with a groan, but Sherlock didn`t have the time to celebrate the small victory. Hands seized his arms, preventing him from blocking the next fist aimed at his face. He was only able to turn his head to the side and the blow landed on his cheek, instead of breaking his nose. Sherlock kicked out with his legs, hitting a careless bloke in the face. The cracking of his nose was music to Sherlock`s ears.

"You sodding fag!" Sherlock didn`t have the chance to point out the origins of the two words to the men as a fist was rammed in his stomach. His legs buckled and Sherlock found himself on his knees as more blows were dealt to his middle section. They didn`t do that for the first time, Sherlock realised as his vision started to become blurred. It was clear that they knew where to hit him to render him immobile, but it was also obvious that they were careful not to injury him too badly. They stayed clear of his back and of his head as well. That was rather reassuring, Sherlock thought with a soupcon of cynicism. His head swam as he was wrestled to the ground, held down by four men and a groan escaped Sherlock`s lips as his abused front connected with the hard floor.

"Don`t try anything or I`ll break your back, fag!" A boot was pressed on his back and Sherlock thought that he should take it as a compliment to his fighting skills that they still thought he would be able to harm them in this position. "What now?" He spat out, since they had obviously enough of beating him up.

Cruel laughter. "Oh don`t worry, fag! We will give you exactly what you want!"

A cold shudder ran down Sherlock`s spine as hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans. He tried to kick out to scream for help - although Sherlock knew that it would be in vain - but he wasn`t able to do either. His whole focus was on the hands on his jeans as they drew it down to his thighs and his underwear with it. Sherlock`s breath escaped in labored pants from his lips as strangers grabbed his buttocks. "You look like you are as tight as a fourteen year old virgin." Sherlock stared at the sandy ground, willing his mind to find a way out of this situation. He could endure beatings and taunts, torture of the highest levels, but not... not that. "No, Mike, not you!" Sherlock heard the voice of a man behind him. "Martin did the disgusting work today, he should be rewarded."

Ah Martin, that had to be the bloke, that had sucked Sherlock of only moments ago. They obviously took turns of who had to find a prey. Or maybe they drew lots or... it didn`t matter. Sherlock took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to hold back a sob as he heard the sound of an opening zipper. If he concentrated really hard, he could feel the beats of the music vibrating through the ground and listen to the laughter of people on the street. None of them knowing what was happening right behind the club, no one caring...

A tear ran down his cheek as cruel fingers grabbed his buttocks, spreading them, baring his most private place to these men. "Christ, I thought I was ready!" Laughter and mocking remarks as the hands let go of Sherlock`s buttocks again. He hadn`t been hard enough, the still functioning part of Sherlock`s mind supplied. A brief delay, until Martin would manage to get fully erect and then...

Cars - heavy cars from the sound of it - pulled into the street behind the club. Doors opening and feet on the ground, running in Sherlock`s direction. The blokes around Sherlock seemed to be frozen in place and Sherlock managed to turn his head to the side as armed men arrived in the backyard. "Away from him, at once!"

They obeyed. Obviously, they weren`t so keen on getting a bullet through their heads. Sherlock scrambled to his knees as soon as his arms and legs were released and exhaled slowly. Men and women in black suits surrounded his would - have - been -rapists and crowded them against the wall.

"You certainly know how to spoil my quiet evening, brother dear." Sherlock growled half-heartedly at Mycroft as his brother stepped in front of him, but he didn`t really have it in him right now to get in an argument with Mycroft. The grey eyes that had regarded him coldly only a minute ago, were now frowning down at him with concern. It didn`t take someone like Mycroft to notice what had just happened here, since Sherlock hadn`t even had the time to cover himself. "Brother mine," Sherlock startled as Mycroft grabbed him under his arms and hauled him to his feet. He would have fallen if it hadn`t been for the steadying arms of his brother. At any other time, Sherlock would have been appalled at his behavior, but he was too worn out to care one way or another as he leaned heavily against Mycroft. Gentle hands drew his underwear and jeans back up and Sherlock took a shaky breath as he was completely covered once more.

"Thank God, they didn`t rape you." It was a relieved statement and Sherlock only nodded. He felt weak and shaken, his body starting to tremble as the shock set in. Sherlock didn`t protest as Mycroft led him away to one of the cars, not caring what would happen to Sherlock`s attackers. Mycroft`s staff would take care of them.

"I didn`t think that it was that serious when I got your message." Sherlock only shrugged and curled up on the rear bench seat. He didn`t want to talk with Mycroft right now, he didn`t want to talk with anyone, Sherlock just wanted... to go home. A hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, before the engine of the car was started. "The good doctor can take care of you, Sherlock, since I presume that you want to go back to Baker Street." It wasn`t a question, but Sherlock still nodded. "Very well," Mycroft said something to the driver and they left the club behind them. "I will personally take care of these bastards."

Sherlock allowed himself a small smile. "Language, Mycroft." Instead of a snarky rebuke, the hand of his brother settled in Sherlock`s curls and stroked him tenderly. He had to be truly in shock, Sherlock thought to himself as he leaned into the comforting touch of his brother. And Mycroft had to suffer from a head injury, judging from his behavior, but Sherlock didn`t protest. Instead he closed his eyes as he was driven back home.