FIC: The Opposite of Afterglow
Title: The Opposite of Afterglow
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Word Count: ~600
Rating: PG, barely
Pairing: Kind of Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade. Kind of.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
A/N: I read a cracky prompt on the kink meme ("Sherlock. John. Mycroft. Lestrade. In one bed.") and this sprung into my brain nearly fully formed. Which is so bizarre, because I never write crack. I do now, apparently!
PSA: Light text on a dark background can spoil afterglows of all sorts. Click here to read in your own LJ format.
* * * * *
This only works if you know how they’re arranged. So if you’re standing at the foot of the bed looking at them... (you need a minute, don’t you..... okay, come on back!) from your left to your right: Mycroft, Lestrade, Sherlock, John.
John: There are too many people in this bed.
Sherlock: It was your idea.
John: It bloody well was not. Shove over.
Sherlock: There’s nowhere to go.
John: Well, if I take a deep breath, I’ll fall out, so shove over.
Maneuvering ensues.
Lestrade: Ow.
Mycroft: What?
Lestrade: Your elbow.
Mycroft: What about it?
Lestrade: It's digging into my side.
Mycroft: That’s not my elbow.
John: Oh, please.
Mycroft: I mean, it’s not my elbow.
Lestrade: Sherlock?
Sherlock: It’s my elbow?
John: See, when you lose track of whose elbow is where, you know there’s too many people in one bed.
Lestrade (to no one in particular): How did I get here?
Mycroft: Look to your left.
Sherlock: Oh, sing a different song, would you please.
Mycroft: Excuse me?
Sherlock: My whole life, whatever happens, let's just blame Sherlock. Ever since we were kids...
Lestrade: Oh, God. Can we please not talk about how some of us are related?
Mycroft snorts.
Lestrade: What?
Mycroft: You are one of four naked men in a bed...
John (under his breath): Which is TOO MANY.
Mycroft: And you’re disturbed that two of us are...
Lestrade (cringing): Please don't say it out loud.
Mycroft: ...brothers?
Lestrade: Oh, bloody hell.
Sherlock: God, you smell good.
John and Lestrade: Thank you.
They raise their heads to peer at each other. Sherlock chuckles.
Mycroft: It just seems an odd time to concern yourself with taboos.
Sherlock: It's not a big deal, Greg.
Lestrade: Are you saying you've done this before?
Mycroft: Well... Sherlock: Sort of.
John: Sort of?
Sherlock: By accident.
Lestrade: How does this happen by accident?
Mycroft: You'd be surprised.
John: At this point, I really wouldn't. Sherlock, can we please go back to my room?
Sherlock: But Lestrade smells nice.
Lestrade: Thank you! John: Oi!
Mycroft: You are aware that in ancient Egypt...
Three of the four men groan.
Mycroft: Brothers and sisters married each other all the time.
Three of the four men make noises of disgust.
Mycroft: It was the only way to protect the family fortune.
John: Can't you make him stop talking?
Sherlock: There's been no evidence of it so far.
Lestrade: Maybe we can just... sleep...
John: Yes, with half of us in a different bed.
Sherlock: I'm too tired to move.
John (getting up): I'm not. I'm going to a different bed.
Lestrade: No, wait! Please, you cannot leave me here with them.
John: You're welcome to come with me.
Mycroft: No. Sherlock: Hey!
John: Sherlock, I'm not kidding, get up, or I take Lestrade.
Sherlock: You could take Mycroft.
Mycroft and John: NO.
Lestrade (to no one in particular): God, I need a cigarette.
John: Sherlock, I swear, I will carry you upstairs if I have to.
Sherlock: As if you could.
John: SHERLOCK. COME ON.
Sherlock: All right, all right.
Sherlock gets up slowly. Mycroft gets up quickly.
Lestrade: Where are you going?
Mycroft (getting dressed): Can't stay. I have an early meeting.
Sherlock: Thank God.
He falls back into the bed.
John: Oh, for fuck's sake.
Lestrade: Do you want me to come with you?
Mycroft: No, stay. Get some sleep.
John: What a novel idea.
He climbs in after Sherlock, pushing him toward the middle. Sherlock groans but moves over.
Mycroft leans down, kisses Lestrade.
Lestrade: Good night.
Mycroft: I'll see you later. Good night, John.
John (his eyes closed): Whatever.
Mycroft: Sherlock, don't forget... it's Mummy's birthday on Sunday.
Lestrade: Oh, God. John: GET OUT.
Sherlock snores.
#
Now with sequel!
Author: Ella Jane (roquentine)
Word Count: ~600
Rating: PG, barely
Pairing: Kind of Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade. Kind of.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
A/N: I read a cracky prompt on the kink meme ("Sherlock. John. Mycroft. Lestrade. In one bed.") and this sprung into my brain nearly fully formed. Which is so bizarre, because I never write crack. I do now, apparently!
PSA: Light text on a dark background can spoil afterglows of all sorts. Click here to read in your own LJ format.
* * * * *
This only works if you know how they’re arranged. So if you’re standing at the foot of the bed looking at them... (you need a minute, don’t you..... okay, come on back!) from your left to your right: Mycroft, Lestrade, Sherlock, John.
John: There are too many people in this bed.
Sherlock: It was your idea.
John: It bloody well was not. Shove over.
Sherlock: There’s nowhere to go.
John: Well, if I take a deep breath, I’ll fall out, so shove over.
Maneuvering ensues.
Lestrade: Ow.
Mycroft: What?
Lestrade: Your elbow.
Mycroft: What about it?
Lestrade: It's digging into my side.
Mycroft: That’s not my elbow.
John: Oh, please.
Mycroft: I mean, it’s not my elbow.
Lestrade: Sherlock?
Sherlock: It’s my elbow?
John: See, when you lose track of whose elbow is where, you know there’s too many people in one bed.
Lestrade (to no one in particular): How did I get here?
Mycroft: Look to your left.
Sherlock: Oh, sing a different song, would you please.
Mycroft: Excuse me?
Sherlock: My whole life, whatever happens, let's just blame Sherlock. Ever since we were kids...
Lestrade: Oh, God. Can we please not talk about how some of us are related?
Mycroft snorts.
Lestrade: What?
Mycroft: You are one of four naked men in a bed...
John (under his breath): Which is TOO MANY.
Mycroft: And you’re disturbed that two of us are...
Lestrade (cringing): Please don't say it out loud.
Mycroft: ...brothers?
Lestrade: Oh, bloody hell.
Sherlock: God, you smell good.
John and Lestrade: Thank you.
They raise their heads to peer at each other. Sherlock chuckles.
Mycroft: It just seems an odd time to concern yourself with taboos.
Sherlock: It's not a big deal, Greg.
Lestrade: Are you saying you've done this before?
Mycroft: Well... Sherlock: Sort of.
John: Sort of?
Sherlock: By accident.
Lestrade: How does this happen by accident?
Mycroft: You'd be surprised.
John: At this point, I really wouldn't. Sherlock, can we please go back to my room?
Sherlock: But Lestrade smells nice.
Lestrade: Thank you! John: Oi!
Mycroft: You are aware that in ancient Egypt...
Three of the four men groan.
Mycroft: Brothers and sisters married each other all the time.
Three of the four men make noises of disgust.
Mycroft: It was the only way to protect the family fortune.
John: Can't you make him stop talking?
Sherlock: There's been no evidence of it so far.
Lestrade: Maybe we can just... sleep...
John: Yes, with half of us in a different bed.
Sherlock: I'm too tired to move.
John (getting up): I'm not. I'm going to a different bed.
Lestrade: No, wait! Please, you cannot leave me here with them.
John: You're welcome to come with me.
Mycroft: No. Sherlock: Hey!
John: Sherlock, I'm not kidding, get up, or I take Lestrade.
Sherlock: You could take Mycroft.
Mycroft and John: NO.
Lestrade (to no one in particular): God, I need a cigarette.
John: Sherlock, I swear, I will carry you upstairs if I have to.
Sherlock: As if you could.
John: SHERLOCK. COME ON.
Sherlock: All right, all right.
Sherlock gets up slowly. Mycroft gets up quickly.
Lestrade: Where are you going?
Mycroft (getting dressed): Can't stay. I have an early meeting.
Sherlock: Thank God.
He falls back into the bed.
John: Oh, for fuck's sake.
Lestrade: Do you want me to come with you?
Mycroft: No, stay. Get some sleep.
John: What a novel idea.
He climbs in after Sherlock, pushing him toward the middle. Sherlock groans but moves over.
Mycroft leans down, kisses Lestrade.
Lestrade: Good night.
Mycroft: I'll see you later. Good night, John.
John (his eyes closed): Whatever.
Mycroft: Sherlock, don't forget... it's Mummy's birthday on Sunday.
Lestrade: Oh, God. John: GET OUT.
Sherlock snores.
#
Now with sequel!