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!
Re: FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (Thanks!)kellen_leeFebruary 24 2011, 23:22:11 UTC
OP, thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I just started writing in this fandom in January, so I was a bit nervous!
And to everyone else who commented or read, THANK YOU as well. I'd never written a threesome before, so it was quite the experience! I loved every second. :D
Re: FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (END)julietbeyondJune 21 2011, 14:46:29 UTC
Okey, that fic was very very VERY hot. It was so hot I almost fainted while reading it because, really, that was amazing, fantastic and fucking sexy. I've never read a fic this sexy and it has all my damned kinks in it, too! And Sherlock, John and Lestrade and sex, now that's what I call a relationship.
Re: FILL (9/9): D/D/s -- John/Lestrade/Sherlock (END)shadowfireflameSeptember 30 2012, 05:12:27 UTC
OMG that was totally amazing. This fic had me absolutely squirming, it’s so much fun and hits all my kinks at once. The love, care, and communication between them all really shines through beautifully. Thank you for sharing this!!!
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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And to everyone else who commented or read, THANK YOU as well. I'd never written a threesome before, so it was quite the experience! I loved every second. :D
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I don't even think my bunk can handle me right now, I'm that hot and bothered having read this scorching brilliance.
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I love you for writing this. Love, love, love.
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