(no subject)
Fandom: Sherlock
Title: Six for Sex
Pairing(s): Moriarty/Sherlock, Sherlock/Lestrade, Sherlock/Sally/Anderson, Sherlock/Molly, Molly/Jim, Sherlock/John
Summary: Five people who called Sherlock up after the events of "Phone Sex"
Warnings: CRACK. Also, this was written very quickly, and very early in the morning, so it may have a few sneaky typos and failtastic attempts at sexiness.
Disclaimer: Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss are responisible for the BBC's Sherlock. Arthur Conan Doyle is responsible for Sherlock Holmes. I am responsisible for absolutely nothing.
“Do you like to play?”
“Oh Sherly, you know that I do.” That voice. Oh God, this was bigger than the case, this was bigger than any stupid ten a penny serial killer.
“Heey, sexy, did you miss me? I’m afraid you won’t be able to trace me through the call, if that worked I’d have been in the naughty corner a long time ago.”
“Moriarty.”
“I love it when you say my name.”
“I will catch you.”
“Will you? Oooh, this is exciting, say something else. I’ve got goosebumps, really.”
He let the silence drag out.
“No? You’re such a spoilsport. Ciao, ciao, babes. We’ll play again later.”
********
“I want to kiss down your stomach and play with your nipples-”
“Urgh, Sherlock!”
“Lestrade,” he sat bold upright in his swivel chair (frankly, the best part of this job). “Any news?”
“Did you have to? Urgh, don’t you let the other person say something first?”
“Sometimes they get embarrassed if you don’t steer them a bit. If they have something specific in mind they generally tell me what they want. What. News?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Lestrade.” He growled in a way that he’d learned from Gavin in booth seven (classically trained actor, stammered when he wasn’t ‘in character’).
“Right, well, still no sign of a fourth victim-”
********
He let the giggling persist for twenty seconds.
“This is a very expensive practical joke,” he remarked mildly. Bloody Lestrade. Gossipy old besom.
“G’wan then, Freak, talk dirty to us,” Sally Donovan snickered. From the muffled sound of Anderson’s voice, his head was tight against her shoulder. Right.
“Are you wet for me, Sally?” He let his voice get husky and even deeper. “Put your hand in your knickers and then taste yourself for me. I want to taste you, I want to fuck you with my tongue until-”
“See here!”
“Anderson!” Sherlock said with faux bonhomie, “Mustn’t leave you out, mustn’t we. Have you ever kissed a man, Anderson? Have you ever been pushed against a wall and felt a big hard cock against your leg? Well, stomach, I am quite a bit taller than you. Regardless... I’ll put you over my knee and finger your arsehole until-”
He smiled beatifically at the sound of the dial tone.
********
“Hi!” He would have known that cheerful, overly optimistic voice anywhere. Molly hearts-and-flowers Hooper calling up a sex line. Interesting. And a bit awkward.
“Right, is it ok if I call you, Jim? I’ve never called one of these numbers before!” Suddenly her voice shifted deeper into her throat, “You’re a bad boy, Jim. I’m going to tie you up and make you watch while I-”
“Molly! I... JIM? You still bloody... Jim? Seriously? I thought you fancied me!”
“Sherlock, is that you?”
“... Hi. How’s Toby?”
********
“I’m so hard, I wish you were here to suck my cock” Sherlock purred absently.
“Hi, me again. Did you borrow my stethoscope?”
“John, will you please, stop ringing me, I’m trying to work! Do you know how much this is costing?”
There was a huff of amused laughter at the other end of the line.
“Your brother said he’d pay my half of the utilities this month.”
Well of all the bloody nerve! Fatty and Thicky conspiring against him.
“Keep running up the phone bill and you can pay my half,” he snapped. Stacy in the booth to his right raised an eyebrow at him. He covered the receiver and mouthed ‘domestic roleplay’ at her.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your ‘work’” He could hear the inverted commas, and John’s damn smile.
“Good,” he sniffed.
“So....” He could hear the metallic rustle of a zip. John must have been holding the phone to his crotch. “Off you go, I’m waiting.”
He held his breath for three seconds before replying.
“You don’t want to get into a pissing contest with me, John Watson. You know you don’t.” His voice was steady and half an octave below his normal register.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You were mentioning your cock earlier?”
“It’s hard.” His voice was dripping with want. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. All day, I have to listen to these stupid morons and try to be sexy. I have to think about you, John, how else could I do it?” He ends the sentence with just enough whine and whisper.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Watson. 15-Love to Holmes. Gratifyingly, he could hear John shuffling around in his seat awkwardly.
“Sherlock-”
“Oh god, the things I’m going to do to you when I get home-”
“You’ve made your point-”
“When I come through the door, you’ll be waiting for me. We’ll pretend this is all a big joke, but we know that you’ll be waiting for me. We won’t say anything and I’ll watch while you strip for me and you still won’t be sure if I was serious, but you’ll want me to have been so badly that you’ll do it anyway. And then, just as you start to think I’ve lead you on, I’m going to kiss every inch of you, except your mouth, I’ll wait until you’re begging me to before I take your bottom lip and suck it into my mouth.”
“Um.”
“I’m going to take you apart, piece by piece, until the only thing you remember is how to say my name while I fuck you into the floor.”
“Sherlock”
Mwahahahaha.
“I’ll go slowly first, gently, and then faster once I know you can handle it. It’ll be strange at first, being so full with me inside you, but you will love it.”
“Sherlock, please-”
“Will you let me come inside you, John? Please let me.”
He heard a slight hitch in John’s breath, and then he knew he had him.
“See you at six, John,” he smiled and hung up.
Title: Six for Sex
Pairing(s): Moriarty/Sherlock, Sherlock/Lestrade, Sherlock/Sally/Anderson, Sherlock/Molly, Molly/Jim, Sherlock/John
Summary: Five people who called Sherlock up after the events of "Phone Sex"
Warnings: CRACK. Also, this was written very quickly, and very early in the morning, so it may have a few sneaky typos and failtastic attempts at sexiness.
Disclaimer: Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss are responisible for the BBC's Sherlock. Arthur Conan Doyle is responsible for Sherlock Holmes. I am responsisible for absolutely nothing.
“Do you like to play?”
“Oh Sherly, you know that I do.” That voice. Oh God, this was bigger than the case, this was bigger than any stupid ten a penny serial killer.
“Heey, sexy, did you miss me? I’m afraid you won’t be able to trace me through the call, if that worked I’d have been in the naughty corner a long time ago.”
“Moriarty.”
“I love it when you say my name.”
“I will catch you.”
“Will you? Oooh, this is exciting, say something else. I’ve got goosebumps, really.”
He let the silence drag out.
“No? You’re such a spoilsport. Ciao, ciao, babes. We’ll play again later.”
********
“I want to kiss down your stomach and play with your nipples-”
“Urgh, Sherlock!”
“Lestrade,” he sat bold upright in his swivel chair (frankly, the best part of this job). “Any news?”
“Did you have to? Urgh, don’t you let the other person say something first?”
“Sometimes they get embarrassed if you don’t steer them a bit. If they have something specific in mind they generally tell me what they want. What. News?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Lestrade.” He growled in a way that he’d learned from Gavin in booth seven (classically trained actor, stammered when he wasn’t ‘in character’).
“Right, well, still no sign of a fourth victim-”
********
He let the giggling persist for twenty seconds.
“This is a very expensive practical joke,” he remarked mildly. Bloody Lestrade. Gossipy old besom.
“G’wan then, Freak, talk dirty to us,” Sally Donovan snickered. From the muffled sound of Anderson’s voice, his head was tight against her shoulder. Right.
“Are you wet for me, Sally?” He let his voice get husky and even deeper. “Put your hand in your knickers and then taste yourself for me. I want to taste you, I want to fuck you with my tongue until-”
“See here!”
“Anderson!” Sherlock said with faux bonhomie, “Mustn’t leave you out, mustn’t we. Have you ever kissed a man, Anderson? Have you ever been pushed against a wall and felt a big hard cock against your leg? Well, stomach, I am quite a bit taller than you. Regardless... I’ll put you over my knee and finger your arsehole until-”
He smiled beatifically at the sound of the dial tone.
********
“Hi!” He would have known that cheerful, overly optimistic voice anywhere. Molly hearts-and-flowers Hooper calling up a sex line. Interesting. And a bit awkward.
“Right, is it ok if I call you, Jim? I’ve never called one of these numbers before!” Suddenly her voice shifted deeper into her throat, “You’re a bad boy, Jim. I’m going to tie you up and make you watch while I-”
“Molly! I... JIM? You still bloody... Jim? Seriously? I thought you fancied me!”
“Sherlock, is that you?”
“... Hi. How’s Toby?”
********
“I’m so hard, I wish you were here to suck my cock” Sherlock purred absently.
“Hi, me again. Did you borrow my stethoscope?”
“John, will you please, stop ringing me, I’m trying to work! Do you know how much this is costing?”
There was a huff of amused laughter at the other end of the line.
“Your brother said he’d pay my half of the utilities this month.”
Well of all the bloody nerve! Fatty and Thicky conspiring against him.
“Keep running up the phone bill and you can pay my half,” he snapped. Stacy in the booth to his right raised an eyebrow at him. He covered the receiver and mouthed ‘domestic roleplay’ at her.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your ‘work’” He could hear the inverted commas, and John’s damn smile.
“Good,” he sniffed.
“So....” He could hear the metallic rustle of a zip. John must have been holding the phone to his crotch. “Off you go, I’m waiting.”
He held his breath for three seconds before replying.
“You don’t want to get into a pissing contest with me, John Watson. You know you don’t.” His voice was steady and half an octave below his normal register.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You were mentioning your cock earlier?”
“It’s hard.” His voice was dripping with want. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. All day, I have to listen to these stupid morons and try to be sexy. I have to think about you, John, how else could I do it?” He ends the sentence with just enough whine and whisper.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Watson. 15-Love to Holmes. Gratifyingly, he could hear John shuffling around in his seat awkwardly.
“Sherlock-”
“Oh god, the things I’m going to do to you when I get home-”
“You’ve made your point-”
“When I come through the door, you’ll be waiting for me. We’ll pretend this is all a big joke, but we know that you’ll be waiting for me. We won’t say anything and I’ll watch while you strip for me and you still won’t be sure if I was serious, but you’ll want me to have been so badly that you’ll do it anyway. And then, just as you start to think I’ve lead you on, I’m going to kiss every inch of you, except your mouth, I’ll wait until you’re begging me to before I take your bottom lip and suck it into my mouth.”
“Um.”
“I’m going to take you apart, piece by piece, until the only thing you remember is how to say my name while I fuck you into the floor.”
“Sherlock”
Mwahahahaha.
“I’ll go slowly first, gently, and then faster once I know you can handle it. It’ll be strange at first, being so full with me inside you, but you will love it.”
“Sherlock, please-”
“Will you let me come inside you, John? Please let me.”
He heard a slight hitch in John’s breath, and then he knew he had him.
“See you at six, John,” he smiled and hung up.