Nothing had changed at home. When John came back after Harry's birthday party, Sherlock had already retired to his room. They had a case the next day and solved it one after. Everything was perfectly normal. One could almost forget about the club.
Consciously, that is. Because John's subconscious mind reminded him of it nightly. He could take it for two weeks and then, he couldn't anymore.
"I'm going out." He said to Sherlock and put on his jacket, checking if he had his wallet, phone and keys. "You coming along? For a pint?" He knew the answer, but he was nothing if not polite. Sherlock grunted dismissively, John wasn't even sure he had heard him. The only thing, though, Sherlock always heard him, he just didn't always want to acknowledge him.
"Okay. Don't stay up." With that he left the flat. When he stepped out the house it took John all he had not to turn around to see if Sherlock was watching him from the window. Of course he was, John was 99% sure about it, but he didn't check. So, slowly he turned right and walked towards the tube.
He arrived at the club twenty minutes later and settled at the bar, ordering a pint. John tingled all over his body but deterred from turning around for long minutes. After he did though, he let his eyes sweep the room. Of course he couldn't find Sherlock. He wasn't even sure whether he had followed him or, if he had, whether he was already here.
Taking his pint with him, John went to a lounge area, settling himself where he could be seen easily. He was determined to be seen but not see himself and he stayed where he was for another forty minutes, figuring that would have been enough time for Sherlock to arrive and find him, if he had followed.
Other men posed a problem John hadn't foreseen. As he found out it was something of a signal when a single man entered a gay club and made himself seen in a lounge area. He was chatted up frequently and was getting less polite at declination each time. At first the was flattered, then he was irritated, then he resolved to never chat up a pretty woman again. Poor women, the things they had to go through. Men were aggressive.
When he though enough time had passed, John got up and very slowly and deliberately made his way to the other side of the club were the dark room was. He was getting nervous now. He still kept himself from actively searching for Sherlock in the club, not quite keeping his gaze to the ground, but only looking a couple of steps ahead of him.
He entered the dark room. There were a few people already there, heavy at work, so to say. John couldn't make out singles and so started walking around, waiting, passing the time, getting into the mood. It was the same smell as before, it wasn't dirty or filthy, it smelled of pure, fresh sex, and it was getting to his head.
He had lost sight of the door for a moment and jumped when a light, big hand landed on his shoulder all of a sudden, not having seen someone new enter the room. It was a man, the man, behind him, leaning in and kissing his neck, going up and licking behind his ear, sucking his earlobe between his lips and nibbling lightly. John relaxed into the touch. The man steered him towards the wall and spun him around before they hit it, then pushing him up against it. He went straight for John's throat, licking, kissing, wetting it, air hitting the wet spots and making John shiver all the while the man tucked at his shirt to bring his hands under it and against John's stomach, letting them roam all over him, leaving a hot path behind them. His skin felt on fire, his throat a mixture of cold wetness and wet hotness under unrelenting lips and teeth and it took no time and then John was moaning, one constant sound.
He brought one hand up and tangled it in the long curls on the man's head, his other hand copying the man and pushing under his shirt, flat on the small of his back, pressing their hips and growing erections together. John's mouth fell open the better to suck in more air, his eyes were shut tightly, forgetting that he couldn't see anything anyway. He started fading out the other people in the room, forgetting about anything that weren't the other man's lips, teeth, hands where they touched him and that delicious smell that John had to bottle and spray all over his room at home, really.
He gained a grain of consciousness when he felt the man tuck at his belt and opened it and then his trousers. His hands, both hands, circled around John's hips and under the hem of his trousers, going straight for his arse cheeks and seized. His breath caught in his throat as the man stepped between his legs, closer, bringing their groins together with one less layer of clothing and bit at John's neck where it met his shoulder, sucking at the skin there.
"Jesus." John groaned. God it felt good. He didn't have time to bask in the feeling as the man slid down his body, going down on his knees, bringing John's jeans and pants down to pool around this ankles, cock exposed to the air, almost fully hard already. He felt lips lick at his right thigh, sucking, again those teeth, leaving a twin mark to the one he could already feel on his neck.
Then a hand out of nowhere rolled a condom over his length, immediately followed by the hot, wet warmth of a mouth as his glans slipped between lush lips.
"Fuck." He moaned. It was fast. A minute ago he was strolling around, now his cock was in someone's mouth. The mouth gave a tentative suck, than let go of him and John whimpered. A tongue replaced the sensation, licking its way up from his bollocks to the tip of his prick while a strong hand gripped what the tongue couldn't touch and then he was swallowed up again. It felt too good already, already too much. John's hand grabbed at the hair under his palm. He tried to not push but he knew he wouldn't succeed. He wanted more of that hotness.
Grateful for the numbing condom he none-the-less whimpered more with every passing five seconds, with every inch more of him that disappeared between those lips that by now must have shone with spit and God, John wished he could have seen it. The suction around his cock was so hard, so hard, so painfully hard, so tight, so hot. He lost all thought. Some part of him registered a hand on his balls, distracted later by a spit-slick finger circling his hole and pressing in lightly. Too many points to concentrate on, tongue and lips where he most wanted them, hot fingers grabbing his bollocks, a fingertip in his arse, each point mere centimetres from the other and they all morphed into one big area, an area made of John's lower body and that was all he could feel right now. The center of the universe. Everything became one, skillfully stimulated until it was too much and he fell over the edge, shaking, standing up on his own two legs by pure miracle, holding onto the skull under his one hand and a shoulder under the other.
It hadn't been more than two minutes.
He looked down at the man between his legs and startled when he got up in a flash, attacking John's mouth as if he was a man dying of thirst and John an oasis. John could feel his lips bruising under the kiss and didn't care, brought his arms up and hooked them behind the man's neck, forgetting he was naked from the waist down.
He fumbled for the other man's trousers intending to bare him just as much, loosening his pants and drew out his cock. The man moaned into his mouth at the first contact of skin on skin, never stopping his relentless kissing. He was hard and John started stroking, eliciting a whimper. He stopped the kiss and bringing up his hand, he licked it, using spit instead of lube, went back to kiss the man and went back to stroking him. Having gained back some blood for his brain John was glad to notice that at least it wouldn't take the other man long to come, too. He stroked, twisting his wrist a little on the upstroke, and the man came between them, spurting semen on both their shirts, no longer kissing, their mouths open against each other's, breathing heavily.
After a minute he started buttoning up his trousers and kissed John a last time on his jaw, gave one last, lingering lick over his bottom lip, before he left.
John gave him a five-minute head start, then followed.