Blue shirt, or the white one, or I could go for a t-shirt... No, a shirt, maybe the checked one?
"You're going on a date."
"Sherlock we have this little custom called privacy. I'm trying to get dressed, get out of my room."
"Go for the blue one, it matches your eyes. What's her name?"
"Can I not have five minutes peace?"
"Why so secretive? You normally won't shut up about the women you're trying to sleep with. What's different about her?"
John grimaced. Sherlock was bound to find out anyway. Maybe it would be better to get it over with.
"He's called David."
"He!" Sherlock practically crowed. "I said so didn't I, I said you were attracted to men and I was right!"
"Yes yes yes, you were right, fine. Now leave me alone."
"Where are you going."
"Just to the pub."
"Okay, how long will you be?"
"I don't know Sherlock, does it matter?"
"Well, I was going to see if Greg was free."
Ah yes, Greg. They'd been very considerate. Well, John supposed it was Greg who had been considerate and Sherlock had gone along with it. They only ever met at Baker Street when John wasn't there, otherwise they'd go to Greg's flat. John and Greg were comfortable being around each other at crime scenes now but the one time John had walked into the flat to find Greg in Sherlock's gown making a cup of tea (John hadn't been due home 'till the afternoon) was still one of the most singularly embarrassing moments of John's life. They'd attempted to speak to each other for a few seconds but John had had to quickly "remember" about something he needed to pick up from the post office and had beaten a hasty retreat. By the time he'd returned with his six stamps Greg had gone. Still, he couldn't keep on like this. It didn't seem like Sherlock and Greg's relationship was going to be over anytime soon and John needed to get used to the idea of Greg as Sherlock's boyfriend.
"It's fine Sherlock, I don't mind. Invite him over."
"Really?"
"Yes really. Now get out of my room."
Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned to go.
"Sherlock!"
Sherlock turned back.
"Hmmm?"
"Don't tell Greg."
"Don't tell Greg what?"
"That I'm going on a date with David."
"Why not?"
John could barely explain it himself. But as soon as he'd thought about the idea he'd panicked. It was something to do with not wanting Greg to think he'd been lying to him, but was also about not wanting Greg think that John found other men attractive but not him. When the opposite was true, it was Greg that had first made him think like this, first made him see just how attractive men could be, how exciting... John shook his head. No, not going down that road again.
"I can't explain Sherlock, it's difficult. I'll tell him myself, just not right now okay?"
Sherlock shrugged. Yet another aspect of the social interactions around sex that didn't make any sense. John wanted to sleep with Greg, but told Greg he didn't. But now he didn't want Greg to think he was sleeping with someone else. Odd.
"Fine, I won't tell him."
John sighed in relief. "Thank you."
...
David had certainly picked a good spot to meet. The pub was traditional, all dark wood and lots of bitters and ales on tap, but on the edge of Soho. The crowd was a mix of young and old, gay and straight. The sort of place where no-one was going to be sticking their hands down each others leather trousers but no-one was going to bat an eyelid at two guys on a date.
David was in the middle of a story about chasing down an escapee eight year old who didn't want an injection. He was shaking with laughter at the memory, eyes shining and hands expressively waving all over the place to get his point across. John was struck again by how good looking he was. He'd noticed it before clearly but now he was on an official date with the man he couldn't help thinking how lucky he'd been to catch his eye. David was slim, but not skinny, with soft blond hair and a light dusting of freckles over his nose. Hie eyes were a bright, light blue and his lips were thin but beautifully pink. John found himself licking his lips.
"Hello?"
"Huh? Oh sorry, I was in a world of my own..."
"Yeah, I could tell..."
David was looking straight at him, eyes bright.
"John, this is the point on a date where I might normally try for a kiss. How would you feel about that?"
John grinned and leaned towards him. The kiss was short and chaste, a quick press of the lips, but it made John tingle all over. Their hands had met under the table and when David pulled away John kept hold of David's right hand.
"Thank you for asking first, I appreciate it."
"No problem. Thank you for agreeing."
For a moment they just grinned at each other. John felt like he was fourteen again, to be so excited by a quick peck and holding hands under the table. It was brilliant. Then suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he saw something, well someone, that made his stomach churn.
...
Greg pulled his phone from his pocket.
SH to GL: Free tonight?
Much as he'd enjoy seeing if he could get Sherlock back for the chocolate incident it would have to wait.
GL to SH: Can't, busy tonight. Next week?
SH to GL: Fine.
Greg looked round the bar for Tom Dimmock. They'd arrange to meet about fifteen minutes ago but the other man was always late.
"Hey Greg!"
"Hey Tom, what can I get you?"
"Pint of whatever's good."
Greg paid for the drinks and he and Tom started to walk towards the back of the pub where he knew there was some seating round the corner that was generally a bit quieter. He saw a couple, hands held together under the table sharing a kiss. It made Greg a little jealous. He was getting sex but he hadn't been on a date in months, he missed the tenderness you got with an actual relationship.
The couple pulled apart and Greg's jaw nearly hit the floor. It was John. John "three continents" Watson- the straightest man on God's green earth, who had turned Greg down flat. And he was with a man so stunning Greg could barely process it, with fair hair and a trim waist and a leading man jawline. They were grinning at each other inanely, wrapped up in their own world. Greg panicked and tried to find somewhere else to go but he was trapped. Then the inevitable happened. John caught his eye.
"Hey isn't that John?" Dimmock waved "Hey John" Greg followed Tom as he walked over to the table where John and the other man were sitting. John looked like a rabbit in the headlights. "Heya John, good to see you. I haven't seen you around since that strangulation in Bow."
"Yeah, erm, good to see you Tom. Hi Greg."
"Hi John."
Greg looked at John, he had no idea what to say. He was aware that the silence was getting longer and that Tom and the mystery man were looking a little confused but he couldn't open his mouth. Finally John broke the silence.
"Oh, I'm sorry, introductions, David- this is Greg Lestrade and this is Tom Dimmock- they both work for the Met, I know them from the work I'm doing with Sherlock. This is David McDonald, I... we met a conference, he works at Barts."
Greg held out his hand. "Good to meet you."
David grasped his hand and shook it, eyeing him shrewdly. There was no malice in it, but Greg got the impression that David was not just a pretty face...
Tom it seemed, had finally caught up with the fact they might have been interrupting something. "We should probably head off, good to see you John, we should all go out for a drink sometime soon, though maybe leave the flatmate at home."
"Yeah sure Tom, that sounds good, see you both later."
As they walked away Greg's mind was racing. So John was interested in men. Why had he said he wasn't then? He'd been quite clear that night that while it was "all fine" it wasn't something he was interested in.
"Greg are you listening?"
"Huh? Sorry, what?"
"I just said that I didn't know John was gay."
"No, neither did I."