A/N So this started out as just a cute fluffy story and it kinda went another direction.....so SMUT WARNING!!!! Enjoy <3

"Sherlock, what the hell are we still doing here?" John shifted uncomfortably and shot his boyfriend a glare. They were in a gay bar, trying to gather information on a suspect, and John was having the worst time. The music was too loud, there were far too many people, and all of them seemed to have eyes for the great detective.

"John, you know why we came in here. If you are uncomfortable then feel free to leave, I will text you when I am finished."

"No, there is no way in hell I am leaving you here. Not when you are following a suspect. Especially not when you look like that." Sherlock smirked and took a sip of his water. He was wearing his purple shirt, the one that accented his pale skin, and a pair of too tight skinny jeans. He looked like he belonged in the club; the bright flashing lights catching his eyes, making them sparkle deviously. He swayed gently to the thumping music; his subtle actions making John's imagination wonder just what it would look like to see him dancing.

"Hey gorgeous, do you want to dance?" John shot a seething glare at the new man that was pressed far too close to Sherlock.

"No he doesn't." John growled, no longer able to contain his frustration. The man ignored him and continued trying to get Sherlock's attention. He was young, attractive, and looked like he would be a much better match for the detective. John felt his anger fizzle out as he thought about what an odd couple him and Sherlock made. He was old, grey, and his once firm body was starting to become more flab than muscle. Sherlock was still young, all pale skin and lean muscles.

"I appreciate the offer, but I am here with my boyfriend." Sherlock tried to reject the man as politely as possible. John was brooding now, having given up on being angry at the pair.

"He's your boyfriend? I thought he was your-" John felt his heart break at the young man's words.

"Before you finish that phrase, I should warn you that insulting the man I am with is really not a great idea if charming me is what you had planned. I have made my opinion clear, and I would appreciate it if you would leave us alone."

"Hey man, no need to be an asshole."

"I'm the asshole, you have just approached me asking me to dance with you hoping it would end with quick shagging in the bathroom, but I am the asshole? Why don't you scurry on back to your disappointing lover you left at home and get fucked?" John spewed his drink at those words, trying desperately to contain the laughter that threatened to spill from his lips. It wasn't often Sherlock cursed in front of strangers; keeping it reserved for people he was comfortable with and for moments of passion. The young man moved quicker than John would have thought possible, swinging his fist and catching Sherlock in the Jaw, sending him flying backwards off the stool.

"What the fuck!" John leapt to his feet and grabbed the guy, pushing him off Sherlock before sending him flying with his own punch. It didn't take long before the three of them were dragged from the club by the bouncer. As soon as they hit the pavement, the young man that had attacked them ran off, throwing obscenities back at them.

"Are you alright John?" Sherlock stumbled over to John, checking the doctor for any injuries.

"I'm fine." John brushed off the detective's hands, clambering to his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm going home. Call me when you are finished here." He turned to leave but was stopped by fingers gripping his elbow.

"John, what's wrong? Talk to me, please." John felt his heart break when he heard the concern in his lover's voice.

"He thought I was your father." The fingers on his elbow tightened slightly, but neither man moved.

"John-"

"No, it's fine. I should have known that would happen. Why don't you go back in there and find someone closer to your own age. This has been fun. I'll see you at home." He wrenched his arm from Sherlock's grip and started walking away. He tried to fight the tears that threatened to fall. He felt like an idiot, thinking he could be taken seriously with a man like Sherlock Holmes. After a while, he became aware of footsteps behind him and he glanced back to see a rather disheveled looking Sherlock following behind him. The detective was glaring at the ground, his hands shoved into his pockets and that stunning shirt practically clinging to him in the humidity. John stopped and spun around, ready to tell the younger man to sod off and leave him alone.

"Sherlock-"

"I love you." Sherlock cut him off, his words laden with emotion. John felt tears prick at the back of his eyes as his stomach tightened. They had never said that before, and John had always imagined he would be the first to say it. A part of him never imagined ever hearing Sherlock actually say those words.

"Sherlock-"

"No, John, please let me speak. I know I am a terrible lover, and a lousy friend, but you make me better. I have never felt anything that can come close to what I feel for you. I don't want anyone else, please don't leave." The normally stoic detective was trembling and babbling, and John had never felt more in love with the man. He walked closer to him, feeling his own emotions bubble over as he pulled the distressed man in for a hug.

"God Sherlock, I would never leave you. I was just uncomfortable, then that kid tried to hit on you and I suddenly became very aware as to how gorgeous you are and how-" Sherlock cut him off with a kiss, a deep, passionate one that left John a little weak in the knees.

"How far away is the flat?" Sherlock sounded breathless, his fingers tightening on John's hips and pulling him closer.

"It's a twenty minute cab ride." Sherlock let out a disappointed little whine, moving to nibble at John's neck. "What about your suspect?" John fought to keep his voice steady. He tangled his fingers in Sherlock's hair and pulled the taller man off his neck, hoping to get himself under control enough to get them home. Sherlock looked absolutely disheveled, his cheeks flushed and his unruly curls a tangled mess around the blogger's fingers. "God, I love you so much." John heard the gasp that fell from Sherlock's lips and smiled softly at the taller man.

Sherlock pressed another deep kiss to John, moaning softly as their tongues met. John felt long fingers grab his wrist and found Sherlock dragging him into a nearby alley. He winced as his head connected none too gently with the brick behind him, but soon forgot as Sherlock pressed against him, his lips returning to John's neck to bite and suck at the skin. John bit back a deep moan as Sherlock found his pulse point and sucked harshly.

"S-Sherlock we c-can't- we can't d-do this here. T-there's p-people-"

"Hmm don't care," Sherlock continued his ministrations, slowly taking John apart in the dark alley. John gave up protesting, realizing that it was pointless when both of them wanted this to happen. Sherlock dropped to his knees, fighting with John's belt and trousers. John moved to assist him, but found his hands pushed away. Sherlock finally worked his trousers open and pulled them down to his knees, shooting a mischievous grin at his blogger before taking his swollen member between his lips. John couldn't contain the whimper that fell from his throat as Sherlock teased the tip of his length with that clever tongue of his. He tangled his fist in Sherlock's dark curls and fought the urge to buck his hips.

"God Sherlock- fuck-" He felt the detective groan around him, using his cold fingers to tease the skin surrounding the base of his member. John felt his climax building and tried to warn the detective, but only managed a loud groan as he felt Sherlock's cold finger pressing against his entrance, sending him spiraling over the edge. He spilled into the detective's mouth, biting down on his fingers to contain his cries. His vision went white, and he was lost in the ecstasy for a while.

When he came to, Sherlock was fastening his trousers for him and adjusting his clothes.

"Jesus Sherlock, t-that was-" Sherlock chuckled, standing up and pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I love you John Hamish Watson." John kissed Sherlock deeply, dipping his tongue into his mouth and tasting himself on his lover's tongue. It was strange, but it sparked a bubble of arousal in his stomach. Sherlock obviously enjoyed it to, if the moan he made was any sign.

"I love you to Sherlock Holmes. Never call me Hamish again."

"But Hamish, I love your name."

"Sod off you git." They chuckled and kissed lightly. "Do you want me to-?"

"Not here love, I want to go home and let you take me in any way you desire." John groaned and nibbled at Sherlock's bottom lip, grinding his hips against his lover's, pulling a moan from the younger man's throat and feeling his hard length against his hip. "I am yours John, only yours. That will never change, I have never, nor will I ever want anyone else. I love you and only you." John felt his heart swell and kissed Sherlock again, never wanting to let the crazy man go.

"I know Sherlock, and I am yours. It's always been you, I was just an idiot."

"No arguments from me there." John scowled and punched the detective.

"Shut up, let me finish. I love you Sherlock."

"Can we go home now? I think I need my Doctor."

"Oh you are a bad man Mr. Holmes."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"Damn right I do."