The lights of the club glint off the mirrors on the walls reflecting back the sweating and gyrating bodies packed into the dance floor. There is a certain kind of smell that comes with these clubs. It's a mix of alcohol, sweat, body sprays, and sex that is equal parts disgusting and arousing.

"Sherlock I'm going to get a drink. Want one?"

Even though John had shouted at top volume his words had been lost; swept up by the crowd and the thrum of music currently bending the tall body of Sherlock Holmes to its every whim.

Sometimes John has to take a break from the almost violent sway of the dancers. He's never been bothered by this need; it's almost as much fun to watch the interplay between the men as it is to be in the thick of it.

John had been surprised when Sherlock had announced that they were going to this particular club and even more surprised with his outfit for the night. Leather stretched skin-tight across the consulting detective's long legs. The pants coupled with his tight fitting purple button up did interesting things to John's body. John no longer worried about the way he had begun reacting to Sherlock; the man was an enigma, who could blame themself for being drawn to him in such a way?

As John sat at the bar sipping a cold beer he realized that not only were men circled around Sherlock watching his body undulate beneath the spinning lights, they also appeared to be gathered around another man who John couldn't seem to get a glimpse of. Soon enough a gap appeared in the crowd giving John a spectacular view of the attraction.

A small dark haired man was grinding against a tall blonde. The moves Sherlock were doing may have been hot, but what these two men were doing was positively pornographic. Their hips were moving in smooth thrusts against each other, their mouths unattached only when the smaller man threw his head back and gasped, their hands roamed obviously between each other's clothing stroking and tugging. John, like the other men in the club, was mesmerized.

The smaller dark haired man broke away with a shove and began twirling in circles like a whirling dervish. He stopped for a second and that's when John recognized him. It was Jim. Jim from IT. Jim from next door.

"Bloody hell."

Just as John recognized the annoying little man Jim's eyes snapped open catching John's.


Jim grabbed the tall man's hand (presumably Sebastian, his husband) and shoved his way through the crowd towards John.

"John! I didn't know you came here!" Jim stood in front of John in an even more skin tight outfit than Sherlock; John hadn't thought such a thing was possible but the evidence was right in front of him. His white jeans must have been painted on and his shirt was thin enough to be completely see through. Sebastian was dressed much more casually in a beef-eater and what appeared to be old army camo pants.

"So, did you come here alone or did you bring that delicious boyfriend here with you for some fun? I would sure love to see him in action." Jim winked and giggled lightly, showing pointed teeth that managed to catch the lights.

Sebastian cleared his throat lightly and gave Jim a pointed look.

"Oops! Sorry. Seb says I can be a little bit over-sexed, but I say can there ever be too much sex?"

John tried to smile. He really did. Somehow though he ended up feeling as if his face was cracking in half. Usually John liked people in general, most were a good lot, but there was something about this Jim, and even his husband, that caused John's skin to crawl.

"Nice to see you two. Looked like you were having fun out there."

Sebastian chuckled in a sort of rumbling rusty-sounding way.

"Oh yes. Jim is quite a dancer."

"Seems to be." John set his now empty beer down and decided to make a break for it. "Well, gotta get back on the floor myself. Bye."

Suddenly Jim's hand shot out and gripped John's upper arm in a claw like vice. He looked into the spritely man's eyes; they were dead, flat and hard as a doll's eyes. John's heart felt as if it had been injected with ice. He had seen that sort of look in some men's eyes back in Afghanistan; those men were the type that relished the kill, the type that you stayed far away from.

"Not so fast Johnny boy" Jim's voice was smooth and oiled, "where's Sherly?"

"Right here."

Jim let John go and as suddenly as the change had come over him he was back to his usual self giggling and batting his eyes up at Sherlock.

"Why hello again gorgeous."

"What were you doing with John?" Sherlock's voice was sharper than his cheekbones, his eyes furious as they glared down upon a simpering Jim.

"Oh just interrogating Johnny about your whereabouts. A little harmless fun. Sorry if I got too rough; I'm a little hard to control sometimes in that area." Another salacious wink.

"Keep your hands off of him. Come along John."

Sherlock marched off, dragging John behind him out into the middle of the floor. Once there he began moving, roughly crashing his body against John's to the beat of the reverberating bass. John saw caught up in the movement, drug along by Sherlock into the sweating, pounding madness. Sherlock grabbed John's hips and drug them to his own swaying them back and forth. He leaned down to John's ear.

"I couldn't stand to see the way he put his hands on you John. I'll kill him if he touches you again."

Somehow their mouths found each other and they were kissing. John's hands tangled in Sherlock's hair and pulled his face closer then shoved him away with a gasp.

"Bathroom. Now."

He grabbed Sherlock's hand and, this time, it was him dragging Sherlock, dragging him off the dance floor, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Which, much to their surprise was already occupied with an equally, if not more, amorous couple than they.

"Seb, god yes!" the door to the first stall rattled on its hinges in a way that seemed highly likely to break it. " Harder! Bite me, right there bite" the voice suddenly stopped, bitten off by a high pitched sort of moan-scream. The noise was followed by intelligible mutterings coming from the other man currently occupied in what seemed like some very good sex.

John pulled Sherlock out back the way they came.

"Umm I guess that will have to wait till the flat."

"Oh no John, we are going to wait right here until they finish which, judging by the pitch of the moans, won't be too long."


"Mmmm Sebby I think somebody's listening in." Jim whispered into Sebastian's ear as the other man bit him once more on the neck. "Better. Make. This. Good. Uhhhh Faster, ohhh!"

Seb just chuckled and complied with his husband's wishes. "Like this?"


Seb gasped as Jim dug his nails into his back, he could feel blood slowly oozing out of the scratches and the matching bite marks on his own neck. He just smiled and fucked Jim harder.


John had felt extremely uncomfortable waiting for the two men to finish in the bathroom. On the one hand just looking at Sherlock had him half-hard at this point, but on the other voyeurism was not his thing.

Finally the door opened and the two men came out. And of course, because this was the life of John H. Watson, it was Jim and Seb.

Both men looked extremely rumpled and extremely smug.

"All yours boys!" Jim sing-songed as he waved them into the bathroom. His fingertips were slightly red, almost as if stained with recent blood. But just as soon as John thought this Jim and Sebastian rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. He was a bit concerned but didn't get to dwell upon the fact because soon enough his mind and body were otherwise occupied. Sherlock was just as talented as his dancing had promised.