A/N - This is just a random collection of drabbles and short stories. Most of these are prompt fills from Livejournal. Huge thanks to the anonymous prompters for the inspiration!
Apologies in advance for any SPAG errors I made along the way. These are just writing exercises I decided to share, and they were not beta read or edited too extensively. The quality of each drabble is, uh, greatly subjective.
Please note that the Overall rating is ADULT for explicit sexual and triggering content!
BAMF!John to the rescue
Rated: PG-13
Pairing: John/Sherlock, established.
Warnings: slight non-con.
Summary: random guy starts hitting on Sherlock, and just won't take no for an answer. John doesn't stand for that.
Sherlock scowled, searching the crowd for his partner. It was hopeless; the night club was completely packed with party-goers. The smell in the room was a reflection of that, coupled with the odour of stale beer. He would be forced to send his clothes to the dry cleaners tomorrow, no doubt.
A friend of John from university was due to marry that week. Apparently this was his way of celebrating his last night as a bachelor. Sherlock wasn't sure why John insisted on his company tonight if he was just going to disappear not twenty minutes after they arrived. He said it would be weird for him to show up alone. Sherlock was under the impression that stag parties often took place without the men's significant others in the picture, but perhaps that rule was different when one's significant other was also male? Sherlock only agreed to come anyway because he thought this way he'd be able to skip on the actual wedding. Weddings were hopelessly tedious.
Sherlock sighed and climbed up the stairs to the top floor of the nightclub, making his way to the balcony that overlooked most of the establishment. He found himself a relatively secluded spot, and leaned forward against the balcony railing. Let John do the legwork, he'd find him eventually. At least Sherlock won't have to mingle until then.
He scanned the crowd. The place was full to the brim with men in various stages of intoxication, and at least a few who were pretending to be more inebriated than they really were. A couple on the dance floor were doing their best to copulate with their clothes still on. Bodies wriggled against one another in a frantic dance, out of sync with the loud music thumping in his ears.
A hand slide down his back and he turned around, expecting to see John and frowning when he was met with a stranger. The man was tall, handsome and exuded an aura of confidence. He was also quite obviously drunk; swaying slightly on his feet. He reached to grab the railing with one hand, leaning casually and far too close for Sherlock's liking. Sherlock stood his ground, glared at the man who did not seem to take the hint.
"What's a gorgeous guy like you doing here on his own?" The man shouted over the music, his breath rank with the smell of alcohol.
"Shove off," Sherlock said loudly. A quick glance told him that the man was high on more than just alcohol.
The man backed off the slightest bit, hands held up in a gesture of surrender, "And he bites! Sorry, didn't mean to push your buttons," He shouted, grinning widely, "What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Try reincarnation," Sherlock suggested dryly, quite bored already. He turned away from the man, and made his way downstairs.
"How about I buy you a drink instead?" The man followed close behind Sherlock, shouting in his ear to make himself heard.
"Are you deaf? I'm not interested." Sherlock gave the man a quick glance. "I'm sure your boyfriend will object, anyway. He's been calling your phone all night."
He used the man's confusion to slip away into the crowd, effectively shaking him off. Making his way across the room, he checked his mobile again, but John still hadn't responded to his text, probably hadn't felt the phone going off with all the noise around them. Noise that was grating on Sherlock's nerves. He stood on his tip toes, scanning the sea of people. Catching a glimpse of familiar dirty blond hair, his lips twitched and he pushed through the crowd in pursuit of his lead.
He startled when he was pulled against a broad chest, arms pinned to his sides. "So how about that drink?" the man from before said, nuzzling Sherlock's ear. The man rubbed his clothed erection against Sherlock's backside.
Sherlock gritted his teeth, and prepared to teach the arsehole how to keep his hands to himself when the weight disappeared suddenly from behind him. He turned around to see the man clutching his wrist, doubling over in pain. No one paid the slightest bit of attention to him.
"This guy bothering you, Sherlock?" John asked, appearing beside him.
"Not anymore," he said, one eyebrow rising.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," John said, and Sherlock chuckled at the absurdity of it. John pulled Sherlock firmly against him, swaying them slightly to the music. "You all right?" he asked.
Sherlock smiled. "Absolutely."