Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1412158.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Other, F/F, Multi
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson
  Additional Tags:
      AU, Barlock
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-04 Chapters: 1/? Words: 448
****** Bug Collecting ******
by RandyRandii
Summary
     John has finally drummed up enough courage to walk into his first gay
     bar, you'll never guess who's working there. (You will, it's in the
     tags. IT SOUNDS BETTER IF WORDED ALL SUSPENSEFUL)
Notes
     Inspired by:
     Anonymous asked: Sherlock working in a gay bar and it is part of his
     job to wear short shorts and fish nets.
     ewmartin:
     johnlock au first meeting. john goes to that gay bar to try to become
     more comfortable with being finally being open about his bisexuality
     and when he goes to get a drink, he meets sherlock (he’s all smirks
     and cheekbones.) they end up talking all night and go home together
     so sherlock can show him his bug collection, e.g. ‘i want to suck
     your dick, john’
John’s hands clenched as he walked up to the innocuous black door and he
hesitated for half a beat before he opened the door.
A blast of warm sweaty air and thumping music hit John as soon as he opened the
door and his eyes widened fractionally as he swept the curtain aside and saw
the body count on the dance floor downstairs. He made his way down the metal
stairs, winding through twerking grinding bodies and grabbing hands, to the
bar. “Two fingers of whiskey please, straight,” he said as his eyes roamed
behind the bar at the many different kinds of alcohol.
"None of those will catch your eye, you’re better off sticking with the
whisky," a voice said. John looked towards the bar tender and everything seemed
to slow down. The man was wearing a plum coloured t-shirt that was one size too
small with black shorts and fishnets, his brown hair falling in neat curls
around his ears and his mercurial blue eyes that were lightly lined in black
that were focused on John.
"Er," John patted his back pocket pulling his wallet out and handing the man a
twenty pound note "thanks. How can you tell about the drinks?"
The man smirked, “Your shirt is new, but has been washed several more times
than it has been worn, your jacket is freshly pressed but it’s over ten years
old, you put it in storage when you signed up to the army, so obviously you
don’t like any new kind of alcohol that these pubescent twats do. Am I right,
sir?” he finished, laying his elbows on the counter and lining his hands prayer
like up to his mouth.
"Y-" John coughed and took a drink of his whisky, "Yes. That’s amazing," he
said, awestruck.
"Really?" The man looked perplexed.
"Of course! How did you know I was in the army?" John sat on the bar stool and
sipped his whisky.
"Tan that doesn’t extend up your wrists or below your collar, either you
weren’t very into your vacation or you weren’t on one, army hair cut that has
had time to grow out but you have kept it up, means you were out on the field
long enough that it is habit, and a slight limp with a tight shoulder, tells me
that where ever you were you got hurt." He moved one of his fingers against his
mouth, and John felt a tingle run up his own fingers.
"Right about all of that, you are bloody excellent!" John laughed and shot back
his whisky. "I’m John, by the way, mister…"
"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes," The man smiled, "But you can call me Sherlock."
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