New Year's Day, 3AM (Sherlock/Lestrade) (NC-17)
Title: New Years Day, 3AM
Author: Jenny Starseed
Rating: NC-17
Character(s): Sherlock/Lestrade
Summary: Lestrade had a tiring and busy New Year’s Eve.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 775
Author's Notes: Written for this prompt on the Sherlock Rare Pair Fest that just asked for Sherlock/Lestrade Celebrating. This pair really isn’t my head canon, but I somehow ended up writing an NC-17 fic around them. There's a sequel, January 6, 2012, if anyone is interested.
Written before series two aired, so no spoilers.
None of these characters are mine. Unbeta-ed and Unbrit-picked.
Lestrade came home at 3am on New Year’s Day. New Years Eve was often a busy time for the Met. All hands on deck to deal with any sort of crime that might occur on New Year’s Eve. There were multiple parties everywhere where heavy drinking was involved, often a few bar fights, drug use and people generally being stupid. So after all the paper work had been done and all the minor hooligans were processed, Lestrade arrived exhausted and tired in his flat at 3am.
“Happy New Years, Gregory,” said a voice from the dark.
“Sherlock! You scared me to death,” exhaled Lestrade. He turned on the lights. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Picked your locks,” Sherlock replied.
“I didn’t ask how, I asked why,” said Lestrade. “Don’t you have random spores to observe?”
Sherlock got off from the sofa and planted a warm kiss on Lestrade’s lips. “Ridiculous. Spores are boring when I have an exhausted Detective Inspector to harass. Shut the door and come in, I’ve brought your favourite whiskey to celebrate.”
“How is it that I allow you to invite me into my own flat?” asked Lestrade as he closed the door. “And isn’t sparkling wine more appropriate for New Years?”
Sherlock scoffed, taking the scotch and the two shot glasses into the sitting room. “Sparkling wine? How typically common, unlike this well aged 30 year old single malt whiskey I stole from Mycroft.”
Lestrade took off his coat and undid his tie. He sat next to Sherlock as he poured him a generous shot glass of the expensive spirit and handed to Lestrade.
“That’s quite a shot full, Sherlock,” said Lestrade, settling next to Sherlock comfortably. He turned on the telly. “Are you trying to get me sloshed?”
“I’m trying to get into your bed, actually,” replied Sherlock. “I’m not picky. Sex or sleep is optional. Come here, shut up and enjoy your scotch and bad telly.”
“It’s only you who would ever consider sleep optional, Sherlock,” retorted Lestrade.
Sherlock put his head on Lestrade’s shoulder and sighed. “Sex it is then.”
“Wh-what?”
Sherlock kissed Lestrade’s cheek. “Sex. You’re being stroppy again; you obviously hadn’t had a proper orgasm in a long time.”
“And sex cures my stroppiness, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does,” Sherlock simply replied. “Both of us are too tired for anything vigorous, so I will give you a choice of either oral sex or manual stimulation. Which do you prefer?”
“Sherlock!”
Sherlock smirked. “Oral sex it is.”
He got up and began to unbutton his shirt. “Come on Lestrade, get into the bedroom. I’d much rather we do it on your bed where we can fall asleep comfortably after I perform fellatio on you.”
“What about you?” asked Lestrade numbly as he followed Sherlock into the bedroom. “I’m not protesting, but isn’t this all a bit one sided?”
Sherlock shut the door as soon as Lestrade entered the bedroom. Sherlock kissed him tenderly and then continued to strip down to his pants. He sat on the bed with a look of waiting. Lestrade quickly stripped out of his clothes and sat beside Sherlock, who continued to kiss Lestrade.
“I’m not quite in the mood for any sex tonight,” murmured Sherlock. “Stop asking questions, you idiot. I have no ulterior motive other than providing myself with some new masturbatory images to be filed away for a later date.”
Nothing was said after that. Sherlock continued to kiss Lestrade deeply, his hand trailing to his penis. He took it and stroked it slowly; he paid careful attention to Lestrade’s relaxed face and increased breath. Sherlock lowered his lips down Lestrade’s chest, caressing him lovingly, moving slowly down his body until his mouth was on his penis. It was an obscenely arousing sight for Lestrade to see Sherlock bent over him, his lips over the head while his hands slowly and methodically caressed his shaft. He felt his breath quicken, his eyes fell shut as the warm feeling of pleasure came over him. A quiet moan and a few gasps left his mouth as he felt his orgasm rack his body. When it was over, he felt wonderfully and bonelessly relaxed. Sherlock reached for some tissues to clean Lestrade off. Sherlock pulled the covers over Lestrade went to the bathroom to brush his teeth to get ready for bed.
Lestrade was almost asleep before he felt Sherlock get into bed to embrace him, his body heavy and warm against him. He was too tired to protest and smiled tiredly against Sherlock. Sherlock gave Lestrade a quick kiss, turned off the light and slept soundly next to him.
Author: Jenny Starseed
Rating: NC-17
Character(s): Sherlock/Lestrade
Summary: Lestrade had a tiring and busy New Year’s Eve.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 775
Author's Notes: Written for this prompt on the Sherlock Rare Pair Fest that just asked for Sherlock/Lestrade Celebrating. This pair really isn’t my head canon, but I somehow ended up writing an NC-17 fic around them. There's a sequel, January 6, 2012, if anyone is interested.
Written before series two aired, so no spoilers.
None of these characters are mine. Unbeta-ed and Unbrit-picked.
Lestrade came home at 3am on New Year’s Day. New Years Eve was often a busy time for the Met. All hands on deck to deal with any sort of crime that might occur on New Year’s Eve. There were multiple parties everywhere where heavy drinking was involved, often a few bar fights, drug use and people generally being stupid. So after all the paper work had been done and all the minor hooligans were processed, Lestrade arrived exhausted and tired in his flat at 3am.
“Happy New Years, Gregory,” said a voice from the dark.
“Sherlock! You scared me to death,” exhaled Lestrade. He turned on the lights. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Picked your locks,” Sherlock replied.
“I didn’t ask how, I asked why,” said Lestrade. “Don’t you have random spores to observe?”
Sherlock got off from the sofa and planted a warm kiss on Lestrade’s lips. “Ridiculous. Spores are boring when I have an exhausted Detective Inspector to harass. Shut the door and come in, I’ve brought your favourite whiskey to celebrate.”
“How is it that I allow you to invite me into my own flat?” asked Lestrade as he closed the door. “And isn’t sparkling wine more appropriate for New Years?”
Sherlock scoffed, taking the scotch and the two shot glasses into the sitting room. “Sparkling wine? How typically common, unlike this well aged 30 year old single malt whiskey I stole from Mycroft.”
Lestrade took off his coat and undid his tie. He sat next to Sherlock as he poured him a generous shot glass of the expensive spirit and handed to Lestrade.
“That’s quite a shot full, Sherlock,” said Lestrade, settling next to Sherlock comfortably. He turned on the telly. “Are you trying to get me sloshed?”
“I’m trying to get into your bed, actually,” replied Sherlock. “I’m not picky. Sex or sleep is optional. Come here, shut up and enjoy your scotch and bad telly.”
“It’s only you who would ever consider sleep optional, Sherlock,” retorted Lestrade.
Sherlock put his head on Lestrade’s shoulder and sighed. “Sex it is then.”
“Wh-what?”
Sherlock kissed Lestrade’s cheek. “Sex. You’re being stroppy again; you obviously hadn’t had a proper orgasm in a long time.”
“And sex cures my stroppiness, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does,” Sherlock simply replied. “Both of us are too tired for anything vigorous, so I will give you a choice of either oral sex or manual stimulation. Which do you prefer?”
“Sherlock!”
Sherlock smirked. “Oral sex it is.”
He got up and began to unbutton his shirt. “Come on Lestrade, get into the bedroom. I’d much rather we do it on your bed where we can fall asleep comfortably after I perform fellatio on you.”
“What about you?” asked Lestrade numbly as he followed Sherlock into the bedroom. “I’m not protesting, but isn’t this all a bit one sided?”
Sherlock shut the door as soon as Lestrade entered the bedroom. Sherlock kissed him tenderly and then continued to strip down to his pants. He sat on the bed with a look of waiting. Lestrade quickly stripped out of his clothes and sat beside Sherlock, who continued to kiss Lestrade.
“I’m not quite in the mood for any sex tonight,” murmured Sherlock. “Stop asking questions, you idiot. I have no ulterior motive other than providing myself with some new masturbatory images to be filed away for a later date.”
Nothing was said after that. Sherlock continued to kiss Lestrade deeply, his hand trailing to his penis. He took it and stroked it slowly; he paid careful attention to Lestrade’s relaxed face and increased breath. Sherlock lowered his lips down Lestrade’s chest, caressing him lovingly, moving slowly down his body until his mouth was on his penis. It was an obscenely arousing sight for Lestrade to see Sherlock bent over him, his lips over the head while his hands slowly and methodically caressed his shaft. He felt his breath quicken, his eyes fell shut as the warm feeling of pleasure came over him. A quiet moan and a few gasps left his mouth as he felt his orgasm rack his body. When it was over, he felt wonderfully and bonelessly relaxed. Sherlock reached for some tissues to clean Lestrade off. Sherlock pulled the covers over Lestrade went to the bathroom to brush his teeth to get ready for bed.
Lestrade was almost asleep before he felt Sherlock get into bed to embrace him, his body heavy and warm against him. He was too tired to protest and smiled tiredly against Sherlock. Sherlock gave Lestrade a quick kiss, turned off the light and slept soundly next to him.