Thank you so much for all my reviews and story alerts! As promised; I continued!
Hope you like :o)
Chapter 2
Something odd happens when a night club envelopes an individual. It is as if your original character evades you, you take on the persona of a confident, defiant and dare we say it; disobedient individual. Often, the alcohol consumed has much to do with it, but even as the ever sober Sherlock Holmes discovered, you can still make the transition as you cross the threshold into the dark, atmospheric and music thumping paradise of a London Night Club.
John held Sherlock's hand as his murderously excited eyes scoped the crowds for danger, for adventure and possibly for protective purposes. Spying the neon lighted bar – John dragged the taller magazine model towards it.
The music in this club was not of the main stream kind. Simply consisting of heavy beats and no lyrics, Sherlock looked up toward the DJ as John ordered the drinks.
The Consulting Detective was caught by surprise as John handed him a small glass- tiny in fact – full to the brim with a toxic looking green substance.
"It's a shot, Sherlock" John shouted across the small but hectically loud space between them.
Sherlock looked dubiously at the liquid. "I don't drink John" Sherlock's low voice carried so much louder than John's and the smaller man smiled.
"And I don't do guys, yet here we are" He shouted.
Sherlock smiled despite himself before looking past his glass to the shorter man once more.
"Tonight, you will drink, Sherlock, because we are celebrating" John said, laying an understanding hand against the taller man's dark shirted chest.
"To us, then?" Sherlock said, giving the smallest of shrugs.
"To us" John confirmed.
They both shot back the glasses and swallowed the liquid simultaneously.
John winced as he placed his glass back on the counter.
"Two more" Sherlock called to the barmaid as he lay a ten pound note on the bar and smirked at John, whose look of surprise was oddly warming.
"Lets get out of here, I don't like the music" John shouted to Sherlock as they swallowed their second shot of Apple Sours – John thought that Sherlock should be introduced to Saturday night drinking as slowly as possible.
Sherlock nodded in agreement before he turned to leave the venue.
After fighting through a crowd; Sherlock turned his shirt collar up once he had reached the pavement, feeling a slight chill at the temperature drop.
John finally emerged from the exit, roughly a minute or two later and the pair walked side by side in search of a pleasing location.
Eventually, they found a promising looking club. It was much like the first they had been to at the start of the night; with ornate wallpaper, booths surrounding a large wooden dance floor and a flash of lights dancing in every corner.
John liked it immediately; it was stylish, it was classy and it was-
"Gay" John murmured in horror as he spotted several male to male couples lining the walls.
"Perfect" Sherlock said happily, his smirk unbearable as he dug his hands into his leather trouser pockets.
"Two – ah…what were we drinking John?" Sherlock asked, turning from the bar staff towards the Doctor.
"Oh, ah, can we just have two single jack and cokes, please?" John said, weary that he didn't want to see Sherlock drunk, not yet anyway.
Suddenly a recent song belted from the DJ's decks at the foot of the – again - empty dance floor. Sherlock turned to John with a raised eyebrow, an unanswered question that John had already answered with his dark eyes.
Taking Sherlock's offered hand with his right, he placed the drink in his left hand down on the bar and risked a glance to the Italian looking barman; wordlessly saying 'we'll be back'.
John followed Sherlock on to the dance floor as the songs' intro beat into the walls and wood around them with its' sheer volume. John once more felt his inhibitions leave him as the song took over.
Sherlock's eyes were clouded; they focused only on John's face as he dropped his hand from the shorter man's own; John could tell the same change had taken place in his partner as the lyrics of the song started, reverberating in his ear drums.
'You know I'm not one to break promises
I don't want to hurt you but I need to breathe'
Sherlock took a step forwards, a step that invaded John's personal space to the max. John's hands moved of their own accord as they ran up Sherlock's deceptively strong arms, coming to rest against his chest; his movements were achingly slow as the two men constantly searched each others eyes for reactions to testing their new boundaries.
'At the end of it all, you're still my best friend
But there's something inside that I need to release'
Sherlock lowered his head and gently kissed the Doctor.
'Which way is right, which way is wrong
How do I say that I need to move on
You know we're headed separate ways'
They broke apart in the lull between the change in tempo. Suddenly the backing blasted into action, the strange, almost robotic melody saw the men grasp hold of each other. Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's back as John dug a hand deep into the dark gelled hair at the base of Sherlock's neck, simultaneously closing his eyes at the feel of it all.
'And it feels like I am just too close to love you
There's nothing I can really say'
The unlikely couple started to move in sync; Sherlock pressing his body against the shorter man in order to control their movement.
'I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more
Got to be true to myself'
John felt himself lift slightly from the ground as Sherlock borrowed a dance from earlier in the evening and turned them, bracing the soldier against a nearby wall as he pushed his hips into him powerfully. John's eyes flew wide as he felt more than he had bargained for past those leather trousers. He allowed a growl to escape his throat – drowned by the music as he pushed back.
'And it feels like I am just too close to love you
So I'll be on my way'
Sherlock's hands dropped as he abruptly turned from John, walking away from him. John waited a beat before following Sherlock, grasping his left hand he spun the taller man, they shared a look before John made the next move.
John was unsure at first as he copied the dance from what he had seen on tv once, slowly, he crossed his feet over, moving to the left. John was stunned when Sherlock had moved identically, perfectly in time as they faced each other.
'You've given me more that I can return
Yet there's oh so much that you deserve'
Growing confident once more, John continued; placing a dominating hand on Sherlock's chest as they stood diagonally to one another and swung their hips perfectly in time.
'There's nothing to say, nothing to do,
I've nothing to give
I must leave without you
You know we're headed separate ways
And it feels like I am just too close to love you'
Sherlock took a close in step once more, wrapped one arm snugly around John's waist and tilted him back, mimicking a version of the tango as John was leant back almost to the floor inside the safety of Sherlock's arm. Sherlock noticed the excited gasps from several on-lookers around them and this fuelled him further as he abruptly pulled John upright and grasped his other hand, letting his waist go in order to spin the doctor wildly around himself.
'There's nothing I can really say
I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more
Got to be true to myself
And it feels like I am just too close to love you
So I'll be on my way'
Once more, Sherlock dropped his hands from the soldier and turned away, mirroring the lyrics.
'So I'll be on my way'
Again, the ball was in John's court as he marched toward the abandoning man, spinning the taller man towards him with hands grasping his hips, the two stepped and shook their hips, barely touching, before stepping again as the mad beat of the song bounced back into their surroundings. They made the dance floor their own with their powerful dance.
'And it feels like I am just too close to love you
There's nothing that I can really say
I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more
Got to be true to myself
And it feels like I am just too close to love you
So I'll be on my way'
Sherlock raised a hand to John's face, his eyes were wild and erratic, reflecting his breathing pattern. John stopped still as he leaned his nose and forehead against his best friend's, unwinding from their lust-filled dance as the song drew to a close.
'So I'll be on my way
So I'll be on my way'
It was a while before John noticed the appreciative claps and cheers from the surrounding clubbers.
Sherlock smiled, tilting his head curtly towards the mass of gay couples.
"We've found an audience then" John said with a nervous laugh as his breathing continued to tremble.
Sherlock looked up to the DJ and received a thumbs-up signal in appreciation. The Consulting Detective glanced back to John, his chest rising and falling hastily as he smiled toward him; "Well, genius does require an audience" he said.
The speakers beside them bounced into action once more as the theme tune to an old bat man film filled the air. John smiled widely as he looked up to his companion once more.
"I think they want more" the Doctor said expectantly.
"They can join the queue" Sherlock mused as he launched himself at John.
The crowd cheered loudly as Sherlock and John ground against one another shamelessly to the song 'Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me, Kill me'.
Some time later, the two men were found leaning against each other, supported by the bar that was lined with several empty glasses.
"Sher-, I think….I mean…I may be wrong…but I think I'm a little…drunk" John slurred, looking expectantly up at the taller man.
"Good deduction" Sherlock said lazily as he closely examined a pink umbrella that he had retrieved from his latest drink.
"Oh, I love that song" John exclaimed as he heard the beat to 'Poker Face'.
"John" Sherlock said in disgust as he wrinkled his nose "This song….is ancient" he said with a light giggle.
John stood on his own two feet with much effort and pointed unfocusedly at Sherlock.
"Your drunk" he stated with a goofy smile.
"No, I'm…not" Sherlock said indignantly.
John moved his head closer to Sherlock, as though scoping him out; "Then dance with me" he threatened.
"Alright" Sherlock said determinedly as he pushed himself from the bar, the smirk from the bar man went completely unnoticed as John pulled Sherlock toward the full dance floor.
The music and the lights worked their magic once more as the two men seemingly sobered up in the exciting atmosphere.
John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck as his eyes became heavy lidded at their close proximity. He couldn't believe how interesting this evening had become.
'I wanna hold em' like they do in Texas please
Fold em' let em' hit me raise it baby stay with me (I love it)
Luck and intuition play the cards with Spades to start
And after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart'
Their dancing was not as free as earlier in the evening but was certainly more physically involved, there was not a beat that one wasn't touching the other.
'Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got'
Without warning, John snuck a hand down from Sherlock's neck and squeezed it between them, subtly pressing his open palm to the Consulting Detective's rather 'unused' area. The feel of hot leather was enough to make John bite his own bottom lip and look longingly at Sherlock's face as the taller man let out an unheard sound of surprise.
'Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh,
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got'
Sherlock felt his trousers unzip and a warm hand travel inside. He backed them against the wall of the dance floor, his back pressed against the decorative wall paper as he scoped the local area – they were completely surrounded by male couples engaging in much the same activity. The dance floor had become some strange sort of drunken brothel. He then turned his alcohol driven eyes to the only man that really mattered, John.
'Can't read my,
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(she's got me like nobody)
Can't read my
Can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(she's got me like nobody)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be
A little gambling is fun when you're with me (I love it)
Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun
And baby when it's love if its not rough it isn't fun, fun'
John aptly timed a gentle tug to the taller man's growing excitement and covered his moans with his own mouth; swallowing down the profanity that was expelled from Sherlock's brain as he climaxed into John's hand.
'Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, oh-oh-e-oh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got'
It was then, that the music was halted abruptly and the darkness of the club was expelled as the main lights flickered on.
The crowd was noisy in their objections as several members of the police constabulary filtered in through the entrance.
John panicked as he looked toward his hand that was irrevocably buried in Sherlock's trousers, Sherlock himself, lost in ecstasy as he used the wall for support, his eyes closed.
"Sherlock!" John whispered, frantically trying to release his own hand and quieten his own problem.
The taller man opened his eyes and looked down at John in wonder.
"Sherlock, help me" John said hurriedly as he signalled to his hand trapped by hot leather.
Sherlock hastily freed John and zipped up his trousers, feeling the horrid stickiness as the leather stuck against his skin. He grimaced but pushed himself from the wall to look above the crowd at the commotion by the door.
A man with salt and pepper coloured hair pushed to the front of the police officers.
"Alright, alright, guys, we'd appreciate it if you went home now, it's getting on for 4am, and this club should have closed hours ago. Thank you" Lestrade boomed out over the top of the objective cries.
John buried his face in his hands in embarrassment but started to giggle uncontrollably at the smell of Sherlock he received from his right hand.
Sherlock knew at once what had tickled the shorter man and he, too joined in, laughing lightly as he shakily made his way to a nearby couch to sit down, leaning his head back against the couch. John sat on the arm of the red furniture, close to Sherlock as they watched the men filter out slowly.
"Gents, if you could please-" Lestrade stopped mid-request as he took another look at the only two men left in the club. He turned swiftly to the police officer on his left.
"Robertson, do next door would you?" The Detective Inspector ordered, waiting for the other 12 officers to filter out.
"John?" Greg asked as he approached the shorter man, it was with a triple take that the elder of the three recognised the tired man at John's side. "Sherlock?" he exclaimed, looking from his foreign boots to the ruffled gelled hair in one sweep of his blue eyes.
"We were in the middle of a case, Lestrade" Sherlock drawled seriously, not lifting his head from the back of the couch.
"In a gay club?" Greg questioned disbelievingly.
"Crime happens everywhere, Greg" Sherlock said dully, not moving his head he opened his eyes to look at the detective.
"Well, did you get your…man?" Greg asked awkwardly.
"Yes" both John and Sherlock answered concurrently before snatching a glance at each other.
"Just…don't tell me" Lestrade muttered as he stood to the side and signalled for the two men to leave.
John and Sherlock did as they were asked and stumbled slightly out into the early morning air.
"What do we do now?" Sherlock asked, squinting slightly at the sky.
John sighed heavily as he stretched out his shoulder blades before turning back to the consulting detective.
"Kebab?" he asked tentatively.
