FILL (7/?): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock
anonymous
February 1 2011, 20:57:15 UTC
Sherlock gasps and lets out another sob around the gag.
John’s never seen Sherlock this wrecked before, and it goes against everything John has to leave him on the floor like this. John would like to pull Sherlock into his arms, hold him, and kiss him.
But there’s nothing for it - this is what Sherlock needs. And John wants to give him that, always. And how lucky is John, and Lestrade too, that what Sherlock needs involves this: wild and reckless desire, Sherlock rocking back against John, moaning, low noises, deep in this throat.
Lestrade gives John a small grin. “Christ, look at him. The way he wants it. He’ll give me a heart attack yet.” He shakes his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.” Lestrade looks rueful now. “Untouchable, he was. Wasn’t until you came along that he let me get close to him.”
Lestrade is right, Sherlock undone like this is hot. Unspeakably hot, but even more appealing is Sherlock’s trust, that he now gives openly to the both of them. “I’m glad that he did. For all of us.” John feels a soft smile spread over his face. He finds that he’s grown quite fond of Lestrade too.
John likes to think of himself as traditional, but when it comes down to it, there isn’t much about him that’s vanilla, not at all. He’s the one who’d suggested bringing Lestrade into this, wasn’t he? John had seen the way Lestrade looked at Sherlock. And Sherlock, once certain of John’s devotion, was always up for a little more attention. Then, fairly quickly, Sherlock had had come to care about Lestrade too, as more than someone to provide cases and challenges.
So that’s how they’d come to this, John and Sherlock, and Lestrade joining them whenever he could, on the weekends when his teenagers were with their mother, or when the Met wasn’t keeping him working at all hours.
“You still with us?” Lestrade asks, poking John, and John nods in reply.
Time to focus. He adds a second finger, then a third, keeping up the steady, unrelenting pace. “Lestrade, I think it’s time for you.”
Lestrade moves in front of Sherlock. “Up you go.” He pulls Sherlock up, arranging him until he’s supporting himself on his hands and knees. “Sherlock. What do you want? Tell me,” Lestrade demands.
Sherlock lets the gag fall from his mouth. “I want-“ He lifts his head up higher. “I want to suck you,” Sherlock says.
“Got it in one,” Lestrade says. “Before you put those lips on my cock, tell us what else you want.”
John chooses that moment to twist his fingers, rubbing the tips over Sherlock’s prostate.
Sherlock whines and bucks, back arching.
Lestrade grips Sherlock’s black curls and tilts his head up. “Tell us.”
“I want John to fuck me.” Sherlock pants. “While you fuck my mouth.”
Now it’s John’s turn to groan. Hearing Sherlock speak like that -- filthy, coarse words spilling out of his mouth -- makes John insane with want.
“Right,” Lestrade says, turning his grip into a caress as he strokes his hand through Sherlock’s hair. “So let’s get on with it.”
Re: FILL (7/?): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock
anonymous
February 2 2011, 01:54:57 UTC
This keeps getting better and better and better.
My heart kind of melted at “Untouchable, he was. Wasn’t until you came along that he let me get close to him.” You've written this in a very poignant way. I really enjoy how you've developed the chemistry between the three.
FILL (8/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock
anonymous
February 16 2011, 00:53:05 UTC
John, for his part, cannot properly concentrate.
Because there in front of him, is Sherlock, on his knees, with John’s cock in his arse. And beyond that, is Sherlock, lips open wide, with Lestrade’s cock in his mouth.
John slides his hand down and forward, letting his palm brush over Sherlock’s cock. It’s hard, so very hard. And slick. John rubs his index finger through the wetness at the tip of Sherlock’s cock, then brings his hand up and rubs it over Sherlock’s bottom lip.
“You taste that?” John pushes his finger into Sherlock’s mouth, alongside Lestrade’s cock. “You taste how much you want this?”
Sherlock nods, pressing against John’s finger with his tongue.
“God help me,” Lestrade says, and now he’s got his eyes closed.
John removes his fingers from Sherlock's mouth -- reluctantly -- and sets the rhythm for the three of them. He thrusts, holding Sherlock’s hips tight, while Lestrade holds Sherlock’s head still. John and Lestrade move in tandem, fucking Sherlock with firm strokes until he is quivering and shaking and moaning non-stop.
“I’m so close,” John says, going faster and harder. “I’m going to pound you, and then I’m going to come inside you.”
“Christ,” Lestrade says, and he pulls back, out of Sherlock’s mouth, coming all over Sherlock’s face. Sherlock keeps his face upturned, letting the come cover his mouth and cheeks.
John’s view of Sherlock isn’t great, but John leans around, fascinated by the way Sherlock licks Lestrade’s come from his lips.
Lestrade is kneeling, panting, trying to get his breath back. “Your turn,” he says to John.
So John gives Sherlock what he wants, rough thrusts into his arse, and a hard grip on his hips until John finally comes. It’s so good, God, it’s perfect, letting himself go inside Sherlock.
John could die happy now that he’s had this with Sherlock and with Lestrade yet again, and more realistically, he could pass out and stay that way for hours, but they’re not done yet. He stays where he is for long seconds, taking great heaving breaths until his legs feel a little more stable. Then he runs one hand down Sherlock’s back. “You’ve been so good, Sherlock. You’d like to come, wouldn’t you?”
Sherlock nods. “Yes. Please,” he says, voice hoarse.
John pulls out as gently as he can, and gives himself a quick wipe down. He manages to drag himself around to where Lestrade is sitting. “Pull him up,” he says to Lestrade. “I want you to watch him get off.”
Sherlock clearly has no strength left, so Lestrade pulls up Sherlock off his hands, until Sherlock’s upright on his knees. Lestrade keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Sherlock’s chest, supporting his weight.
“You’ve been so good, good enough that I’m going to use my mouth to bring you off. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” John asks.
Sherlock’s eyes roll back in his head, and then his head drops forward. Now Sherlock’s the one that looks dangerously close to passing out, so John goes down on his hands and knees, ducking his head until he can find the right angle. The position’s a bit awkward, but John’ll manage. Sherlock deserves it.
Besides, John’ll never say it out loud, but he loves having Sherlock’s cock in his mouth. John closes his lips around Sherlock’s cock and sucks, going down as far as he can. He pulls back, tongue pressed to the underside - and before he can do anything more, Sherlock cries out, coming down John’s throat.
John hides a smile and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, while Lestrade catches Sherlock -- whose knees have buckled -- and guides him carefully to the floor.
OP - Re: FILL (8/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock
anonymous
February 16 2011, 05:40:53 UTC
The OP has died of HOMG HGNNN!!! and from the lethal levels of self-restraint required to not read this update while at work, and is writing from porn heaven to drool happily at you. 89~~~
FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (END)
anonymous
February 23 2011, 19:23:55 UTC
Lestrade leaves the blindfold on - Sherlock prefers it that way.
John takes a second to run his hand down Sherlock’s back, and then he pushes himself up and staggers to the washbasin. He’s on autopilot - and if he feels this dazed, he can’t imagine how Sherlock is feeling. John scrubs his hands with soap and splashes a little water on his face, hoping to ground himself.
That reminds John. “Give him the water,” he says to Lestrade, who looks as unsteady as John feels. John holds onto the edge of the basin as the train rattles along -- his legs still haven’t recovered from kneeling for so long. Maybe they never will. John smiles at the thought.
Lestrade groans - apparently, wrestling a blissed-out Sherlock into a half sitting position is strenuous work.
“Don’t want to,” Sherlock says, but Lestrade ignores it, and gives him a good tug up. He helps Sherlock lean to the side, so that most of his weight's not on his backside.
John laughs and grabs the pillows from each bunk, tossing them to the floor. Then he unfolds a second blanket from one of the beds and dumps it on Lestrade’s lap.
That’s far longer than he wants to be up moving about, so finally, John lowers himself to the floor. He rubs his thumb over Sherlock’s lower lip. “Take a sip,” John says, while Lestrade holds the bottle of water up to Sherlock’s mouth.
Sherlock does take a drink, despite his protest, and then another, while John unfolds the extra blanket and covers Sherlock up the waist.
Lestrade pokes John with his elbow. “Never going to be able to look at a train the same after this,” he says. “You’re a bloody menace.”
“Right,” John says, smiling over at Lestrade. “Always dreaded them myself. Maybe not now.” John nudges Sherlock. “Okay you, roll over on your side. Right one,” John says. “I need to clean that bite.”
“It’s fine as it is,” Sherlock mutters.
“No arguing.”
Sherlock grumbles, but he complies, lying still while John dabs at the broken skin with alcohol. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Sherlock says. “Can’t feel it at all.”
“It’ll sting tomorrow, most likely. But you’ve had worse,” Johns says.
“I’ll quite like it,” Sherlock says. “It’ll remind me of today.”
John knows Sherlock loves what they have, that he wants it, but still, hearing him say it… John’s stomach flips over, and he feels like he’s fifteen again. He takes a minute to bask in that feeling before returning to his task.
He tapes a bandage over the bite, and leans down to kiss Sherlock on the forehead, in the space where his curls meet the fabric of the blindfold. John’s so far gone on Sherlock -- smitten, really. It’s pathetic.
He looks at Lestrade, who’s been watching them this whole time with a soft smile. And bloody hell, John’s grown more than fond of Lestrade too. It’s insane, all of it.
“Christ, but that was amazing,” Lestrade says, as if he can read John's mind. He puts his palm over Sherlock’s forehead, right on top of the spot John kissed. Lestrade pushes the curls back. “You were amazing,” he says to Sherlock.
“Mmm.” Sherlock sighs and stretches, wiggling down under the blanket, a content smile on his face.
John doesn’t try and clean Sherlock up - that’s another thing Sherlock doesn’t care for. But John does slather cream all over Sherlock’s backside while Lestrade massages Sherlock’s shoulders.
John is feeling even more sentimental than usual. He leans forward and kisses Lestrade on the cheek.
Lestrade’s eyes light up and he grins at John, something John doesn’t see often enough.
“See you in a bit,” John says, and he gets up to shut the overhead light off, happy that he chose the train to Iverness - they’ll need every second to recover from this one.
John rearranges the blanket, covering all three of them with it, and he and Lestrade settle on either side of Sherlock, right where they want to be.
Re: FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (END)s0mmerspr0ssenFebruary 23 2011, 21:21:05 UTC
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 I've been obessively checking up on this and it's done and I'm happy. *sighs* Earlier parts: HOT Last part: happy tingles. Well, well done!
OP Re: FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (END)
anonymous
February 24 2011, 04:05:05 UTC
Besides the scorching hot, what I really love is the depth of care and caring between all of them, their emotional connection to each other. No one is left out, and all of them are loved by each other.
I'm not sure what I was hoping for when I posted this prompt, but your fill has surpassed all my grandest hopes. Thank you so much!
John’s never seen Sherlock this wrecked before, and it goes against everything John has to leave him on the floor like this. John would like to pull Sherlock into his arms, hold him, and kiss him.
But there’s nothing for it - this is what Sherlock needs. And John wants to give him that, always. And how lucky is John, and Lestrade too, that what Sherlock needs involves this: wild and reckless desire, Sherlock rocking back against John, moaning, low noises, deep in this throat.
Lestrade gives John a small grin. “Christ, look at him. The way he wants it. He’ll give me a heart attack yet.” He shakes his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.” Lestrade looks rueful now. “Untouchable, he was. Wasn’t until you came along that he let me get close to him.”
Lestrade is right, Sherlock undone like this is hot. Unspeakably hot, but even more appealing is Sherlock’s trust, that he now gives openly to the both of them. “I’m glad that he did. For all of us.” John feels a soft smile spread over his face. He finds that he’s grown quite fond of Lestrade too.
John likes to think of himself as traditional, but when it comes down to it, there isn’t much about him that’s vanilla, not at all. He’s the one who’d suggested bringing Lestrade into this, wasn’t he? John had seen the way Lestrade looked at Sherlock. And Sherlock, once certain of John’s devotion, was always up for a little more attention. Then, fairly quickly, Sherlock had had come to care about Lestrade too, as more than someone to provide cases and challenges.
So that’s how they’d come to this, John and Sherlock, and Lestrade joining them whenever he could, on the weekends when his teenagers were with their mother, or when the Met wasn’t keeping him working at all hours.
“You still with us?” Lestrade asks, poking John, and John nods in reply.
Time to focus. He adds a second finger, then a third, keeping up the steady, unrelenting pace. “Lestrade, I think it’s time for you.”
Lestrade moves in front of Sherlock. “Up you go.” He pulls Sherlock up, arranging him until he’s supporting himself on his hands and knees. “Sherlock. What do you want? Tell me,” Lestrade demands.
Sherlock lets the gag fall from his mouth. “I want-“ He lifts his head up higher. “I want to suck you,” Sherlock says.
“Got it in one,” Lestrade says. “Before you put those lips on my cock, tell us what else you want.”
John chooses that moment to twist his fingers, rubbing the tips over Sherlock’s prostate.
Sherlock whines and bucks, back arching.
Lestrade grips Sherlock’s black curls and tilts his head up. “Tell us.”
“I want John to fuck me.” Sherlock pants. “While you fuck my mouth.”
Now it’s John’s turn to groan. Hearing Sherlock speak like that -- filthy, coarse words spilling out of his mouth -- makes John insane with want.
“Right,” Lestrade says, turning his grip into a caress as he strokes his hand through Sherlock’s hair. “So let’s get on with it.”
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My heart kind of melted at “Untouchable, he was. Wasn’t until you came along that he let me get close to him.” You've written this in a very poignant way. I really enjoy how you've developed the chemistry between the three.
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Am dead from hot. Yes. You're nailing kinks I didn't know I had along with the ones I already knew about!:D
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Because there in front of him, is Sherlock, on his knees, with John’s cock in his arse. And beyond that, is Sherlock, lips open wide, with Lestrade’s cock in his mouth.
John slides his hand down and forward, letting his palm brush over Sherlock’s cock. It’s hard, so very hard. And slick. John rubs his index finger through the wetness at the tip of Sherlock’s cock, then brings his hand up and rubs it over Sherlock’s bottom lip.
“You taste that?” John pushes his finger into Sherlock’s mouth, alongside Lestrade’s cock. “You taste how much you want this?”
Sherlock nods, pressing against John’s finger with his tongue.
“God help me,” Lestrade says, and now he’s got his eyes closed.
John removes his fingers from Sherlock's mouth -- reluctantly -- and sets the rhythm for the three of them. He thrusts, holding Sherlock’s hips tight, while Lestrade holds Sherlock’s head still. John and Lestrade move in tandem, fucking Sherlock with firm strokes until he is quivering and shaking and moaning non-stop.
“I’m so close,” John says, going faster and harder. “I’m going to pound you, and then I’m going to come inside you.”
“Christ,” Lestrade says, and he pulls back, out of Sherlock’s mouth, coming all over Sherlock’s face. Sherlock keeps his face upturned, letting the come cover his mouth and cheeks.
John’s view of Sherlock isn’t great, but John leans around, fascinated by the way Sherlock licks Lestrade’s come from his lips.
Lestrade is kneeling, panting, trying to get his breath back. “Your turn,” he says to John.
So John gives Sherlock what he wants, rough thrusts into his arse, and a hard grip on his hips until John finally comes. It’s so good, God, it’s perfect, letting himself go inside Sherlock.
John could die happy now that he’s had this with Sherlock and with Lestrade yet again, and more realistically, he could pass out and stay that way for hours, but they’re not done yet. He stays where he is for long seconds, taking great heaving breaths until his legs feel a little more stable. Then he runs one hand down Sherlock’s back. “You’ve been so good, Sherlock. You’d like to come, wouldn’t you?”
Sherlock nods. “Yes. Please,” he says, voice hoarse.
John pulls out as gently as he can, and gives himself a quick wipe down. He manages to drag himself around to where Lestrade is sitting. “Pull him up,” he says to Lestrade. “I want you to watch him get off.”
Sherlock clearly has no strength left, so Lestrade pulls up Sherlock off his hands, until Sherlock’s upright on his knees. Lestrade keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Sherlock’s chest, supporting his weight.
“You’ve been so good, good enough that I’m going to use my mouth to bring you off. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” John asks.
Sherlock’s eyes roll back in his head, and then his head drops forward. Now Sherlock’s the one that looks dangerously close to passing out, so John goes down on his hands and knees, ducking his head until he can find the right angle. The position’s a bit awkward, but John’ll manage. Sherlock deserves it.
Besides, John’ll never say it out loud, but he loves having Sherlock’s cock in his mouth. John closes his lips around Sherlock’s cock and sucks, going down as far as he can. He pulls back, tongue pressed to the underside - and before he can do anything more, Sherlock cries out, coming down John’s throat.
John hides a smile and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, while Lestrade catches Sherlock -- whose knees have buckled -- and guides him carefully to the floor.
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John takes a second to run his hand down Sherlock’s back, and then he pushes himself up and staggers to the washbasin. He’s on autopilot - and if he feels this dazed, he can’t imagine how Sherlock is feeling. John scrubs his hands with soap and splashes a little water on his face, hoping to ground himself.
That reminds John. “Give him the water,” he says to Lestrade, who looks as unsteady as John feels. John holds onto the edge of the basin as the train rattles along -- his legs still haven’t recovered from kneeling for so long. Maybe they never will. John smiles at the thought.
Lestrade groans - apparently, wrestling a blissed-out Sherlock into a half sitting position is strenuous work.
“Don’t want to,” Sherlock says, but Lestrade ignores it, and gives him a good tug up. He helps Sherlock lean to the side, so that most of his weight's not on his backside.
John laughs and grabs the pillows from each bunk, tossing them to the floor. Then he unfolds a second blanket from one of the beds and dumps it on Lestrade’s lap.
That’s far longer than he wants to be up moving about, so finally, John lowers himself to the floor. He rubs his thumb over Sherlock’s lower lip. “Take a sip,” John says, while Lestrade holds the bottle of water up to Sherlock’s mouth.
Sherlock does take a drink, despite his protest, and then another, while John unfolds the extra blanket and covers Sherlock up the waist.
Lestrade pokes John with his elbow. “Never going to be able to look at a train the same after this,” he says. “You’re a bloody menace.”
“Right,” John says, smiling over at Lestrade. “Always dreaded them myself. Maybe not now.” John nudges Sherlock. “Okay you, roll over on your side. Right one,” John says. “I need to clean that bite.”
“It’s fine as it is,” Sherlock mutters.
“No arguing.”
Sherlock grumbles, but he complies, lying still while John dabs at the broken skin with alcohol. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Sherlock says. “Can’t feel it at all.”
“It’ll sting tomorrow, most likely. But you’ve had worse,” Johns says.
“I’ll quite like it,” Sherlock says. “It’ll remind me of today.”
John knows Sherlock loves what they have, that he wants it, but still, hearing him say it… John’s stomach flips over, and he feels like he’s fifteen again. He takes a minute to bask in that feeling before returning to his task.
He tapes a bandage over the bite, and leans down to kiss Sherlock on the forehead, in the space where his curls meet the fabric of the blindfold. John’s so far gone on Sherlock -- smitten, really. It’s pathetic.
He looks at Lestrade, who’s been watching them this whole time with a soft smile. And bloody hell, John’s grown more than fond of Lestrade too. It’s insane, all of it.
“Christ, but that was amazing,” Lestrade says, as if he can read John's mind. He puts his palm over Sherlock’s forehead, right on top of the spot John kissed. Lestrade pushes the curls back. “You were amazing,” he says to Sherlock.
“Mmm.” Sherlock sighs and stretches, wiggling down under the blanket, a content smile on his face.
John doesn’t try and clean Sherlock up - that’s another thing Sherlock doesn’t care for. But John does slather cream all over Sherlock’s backside while Lestrade massages Sherlock’s shoulders.
John is feeling even more sentimental than usual. He leans forward and kisses Lestrade on the cheek.
Lestrade’s eyes light up and he grins at John, something John doesn’t see often enough.
“See you in a bit,” John says, and he gets up to shut the overhead light off, happy that he chose the train to Iverness - they’ll need every second to recover from this one.
John rearranges the blanket, covering all three of them with it, and he and Lestrade settle on either side of Sherlock, right where they want to be.
END. :)
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I've been obessively checking up on this and it's done and I'm happy.
*sighs*
Earlier parts: HOT
Last part: happy tingles.
Well, well done!
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This has been a wonderful story! Thanks for sharing it!
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as intense as this story got, what I liked best about it was the love that was bouncing around all three of them. Very nicely done.
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I'm not sure what I was hoping for when I posted this prompt, but your fill has surpassed all my grandest hopes. Thank you so much!
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