John shifted uncomfortably. This was never really a place where he'd had any interest in going to.
But Sherlock had insisted on needing backup, and John, knowing Sherlock, knew he was right. Because even though it was a public place, and rather crowded, Sherlock had a habit of pissing people off and getting them to hurt him. John still wasn't entirely sure if it was on purpose or not. Likely, both.
But John had grudgingly agreed to tag along, but insisted that Sherlock not do anything remotely stupid.
("I'll just be myself," he'd said. John had groaned at that.)
But that was how John had ended up accompanying Sherlock to a gay bar, and was dressed up in some ridiculous shirt that looked like something Sherlock would wear, but in his size. John still wasn't sure why Sherlock had it, and probably didn't want to know.
Sherlock was fully playing that part and playing it well. His hair was all gelled up and looked curlier than John ever thought possible. Not that he'd thought about it.
Sherlock was muttering something about 'three' and John was blushing at the implications of that.
Finally, Sherlock spotted the suspect and grabbed John around the arm and pranced over to the suspect, and announced, while John blushed even harder, "Hullo! This is my boyfriend."
