Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Sherlock BBC world, which is trademarked by BBC, Mark Gatiss,Steven Moffat. Both Sherlock and John are characters created and owned by Moffat,Gatiss, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of story I tell here about Sherlock and John is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of canon. as much as I wish it were so this is not considered canon and I profit in no way from posting this.
This story is not britpicked let me know if I made any too annoying mistakes
John returned from the bar with two pints. Sherlock had suggested a spot that John had never been to, it seemed a bit of a younger crowd, but he was up for something new. Sherlock nodded slightly in acknowledgement as he set the beers down at the table. He looked fit John had to admit his dark curls tousled, just right, a dark burgundy shirt and black trousers that favored the contrast of light and dark he represented, but whenever he went in public he dressed sharply, he either liked keeping up appearances which was not bloody likely or John was never going to figure him out. He was scanning the crowd as he sipped his beer. John wasn't sure if there was any actual interest there or if he was simply here because he was bored. His gaze swung back to John.
"I assume this is an attempt to meet a woman." Sherlock muttered his tone bordering on derision. John rolled his eyes, feeling like he was explaining sex to a potted plant.
"Yeah, it is. Is that so hard to understand?"
Sherlock's eyes narrowed examining him.
"And what would you say to this woman to have her follow you to the flat?"
John couldn't tell if Sherlock was mocking him or if he was asking because he didn't know.
John shrugged "it depends on the woman."
He nodded thoughtfully. Before inclining his head towards a woman at the bar.
"Her?" John followed the line of Sherlock's gaze. She was younger than him by maybe ten years. She had auburn hair that framed her face, she had a sweet round face and toasted honey eyes. Her figure curved in all the right places. She wore a simple red dress that emphasized her assets for all they were worth. She was sipping some cocktail, and absently glancing around She wasn't likely to give him the time of day, let alone come home with him.
"She is out of my league." John admitted sipping his beer.
"What do you mean? Sherlock asked, seemingly mystified. John took it as a compliment.
He chuckled " That woman would never come home with me." He laughed. Sherlock really didn't understand how dating worked. Sherlock raised a brow.
"Your confidence is dizzying." John shrugged, he wasn't worried he wasn't Don Juan, but he had never had any real trouble finding women. He glanced over at Sherlock he might have better luck at this scene than him.
"Perhaps you should talk to her?" He said encouragingly hell, who knew how getting shagged would change Sherlock's demeanor he might even become something close to human.
Sherlock jeered "As if I would be interested in something so banal as a quick romp with some anonymous slapper." John was surprised by Sherlock's sudden crudeness. It was then he noticed that Sherlock had already finished off his pint
"And what would you be satisfied with?" he prodded surprised
Sherlock arched a brow again, obviously annoyed
"That is an idiotic question." He groused. " Isn't it obvious" John chuckled Sherlock thought everything was obvious.
"No some of us need elaboration." It was slightly funny. Sherlock didn't seem to have much of a tolerance.
Sherlock glanced at him pointedly before he opened his mouth to speak most likely to preform some brilliant deduction. When the waitress brought over a cocktail, handing it to Sherlock
"From the woman by the bar." They glanced over to see the women they had been talking about wave.
John playfully slapped Sherlock on the arm. " I told you." He insisted.
Sherlock snorted an honest to god snort. " Not interested, but I will take the drink." He muttered drinking heavily from the cocktail. John liked this side of Sherlock. It was a bit more palatable than his normal personality.
He looked at John and he felt his heart jolt. Sherlock was not unattractive normally, but his smile was a rare thing and it was breathtaking. The pint must be affecting him more than he thought if he was noticing how bright Sherlock's eyes were.
Sherlock was looking at him again and his brain or more aptly much a much lower part of his anatomy reminded him why he was there. He scanned the crowd again looking for a woman who seemed interested.
"What are you doing?" Sherlock demanded, sounding bored again.
"What I came here to do." John groused. Sherlock stood quickly if a bit shakily
"Do you fancy her?" he asked quickly gesturing towards the woman they had discussed
John glanced her way again. He wasn't blind, she was gorgeous. He simply nodded rather than elaborate. Sherlock downed the rest of the cocktail. "Alright." He mumbled before striding confidently towards her. John watched utterly astonished by Sherlock actions.
John watched amazed as Sherlock began chatting up this woman. His entire personality shifted and he seemed charming and charismatic, he gestured towards him and John managed to smile slightly. The woman tilted her head, and sent a smoldering look his way, seeming to be interested in whatever Sherlock was telling her.
John's amazement continued as the woman stood and approached him at the table. Sherlock inclined his head and directed to her with a dramatic flourish of his hand, as if to say your welcome.
She swayed up to him looking like sin in heels. She smiled at him as she approached her lips were cherry red. She didn't say a word when she reached him John found himself standing. She was about the same height as him in the heels. She laid a hand across his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. What in bloody hell did Sherlock say to her? " Jesus, " he gasped
She smiled like the cat who caught the canary "Cerise, actually" John had no words. He did notice however that she was American. She looped her arm in his "Would you like to take me back to your place? She purred. Leaning against him, allowing him to feel the press her breast against his arm.
This was happening a lot faster and easier than what was his typical experience. There was a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind, but he ignored it.
"I've got a flat mate." He said quickly looking around for Sherlock, but he was gone.
"I know and he explained everything." She whispered, leaning into him again.
What in bloody hell had Sherlock told her about him? He would ask later, hopefully it would work more than once.
"Shall we?"she asked suggestively John nodded and found himself not caring where Sherlock went.
The taxi ride home was interesting to say the least. Her hand on his thigh kept straying upwards with quick teasing caresses brushing against his cock driving him mad. The trip home couldn't have happened fast enough.
She kissed him again in the foyer pushing him against the wall twirling her tongue around in a way that he imagined would feel simply fantastic on his cock. Part of him wanted the lay her down and shag right there against the stairs, but he knew how uncomfortable for her it would be and he had enough self-control to make it upstairs.
Once inside the flat John didn't care if Sherlock could see them. He pressed her against the door, kissing her, running his hands over her body. She pushed him away slightly. "Slow down, darling, I thought it was readily understood cash upfront, with these transactions." John felt his heart skip a beat as he practically flung himself away from the door. That bloody bastard. There was no possible reality where Sherlock hadn't known what he was getting John into.
" Fuck" John swore when he saw Sherlock next he was going kill him. That was all there was to it. She arched a brow. "I'm guessing your friend did let on that I was a working girl? What a fuckhead." She muttered under her breath. John could barely believe the situation he was in. It was completely nonsensical. She smiled awkwardly looking much more relaxed and natural. Most of the lipstick had rubbed off, leaving her lips a more natural color. John swiped a hand over his mouth the back of his hand was smeared with red. Perfect.
"This is rather awkward." She said with a giggled. John nodded. He was rock hard and furious with Sherlock. "Is Cerise your real name."
"What do you think?" she asked sardonically
"Can I get money for a cab ride back to the bar? She asked.
With a sigh John fished out the money and handed it to her.
She moved leave the flat, then turned back and smiled slightly
"If it means anything you're an awesome kisser." John couldn't help but be slightly mollified by the compliment.
After she left John settled in his chair to wait for Sherlock to return. Around an hour later Sherlock walked casually into the flat.
John glared at him. "You cock, you utter cock." Sherlock froze then frowned confused
" I thought I allowed for an adequate amount time for those sort of activities." John almost found it funny that he thought he was angry for interrupting.
"She was a prostitute." He said as calmly as he could manage, but the fury still shook his voice.
"Yes…" he agreed, "wasn't it obvious." John didn't want to know what Sherlock saw to instantly recognize her as a prostitute and he clearly missed. "Exactly!" he shouted, bounding from his chair. Sherlock narrowed his eyes assessing the conversation.
"Ah, I see this is considered a problem for you… she was providing a service you required, it seemed the most beneficial arrangement." He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.
"What about me makes you think I would go to prostitute?" he demanded Sherlock moved to answer and he instantly regretted it. Holding up his hands to ward off anything he would say. "Never mind." he insisted quickly. John sighed Sherlock clearly had no idea what he did was wrong. "This never happened." John maintained "We will never talk about this again." Sherlock Smiled. "I should hope not."