Fic: Greedy (Sherlock) (Big fat ADULTS ONLY)
Title: Greedy
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson mention of Mycroft Holmes
Rating: 18+
Summary: Moment before having sex together for the first time is not the time to drop bombshells about your brother. Written for this prompt.
Warnings: Explicit sex. Discussion of incest.
John broke the kiss with a gasp, staring dumbfounded up at Sherlock. “You... But...”
“I’m human, John. I have needs. I have urges and sometimes it’s much more satisfying to fulfil them than ignore them.” He ran his hands up John’s stomach, over his chest to hold his shoulders. “I’d like to satisfy them with you,” he breathed out.
John stared up at Sherlock, at those flushed, full lips and dilated pupils. “God, yes.”
Sherlock smiled. “Good.” And then they were crashing together again, mouths slick against one another as they kissed, John sucking on Sherlock’s lower lip as those elegant, long fingered hands slid back down his body and around his waist, pushing up under his clothes to grasp at the skin of his back.
In return, John pushed Sherlock back against the wall, pushing his way between his legs as he came in for another, deeper kiss. His hands tugged to get Sherlock’s shirt from his belt, to start pulling it open so that he could feel Sherlock’s body, run his hands over that perfectly pale skin as their tongues met and tangled.
Sherlock’s body rolled against his, slow and sensuous, moaning into their kiss. His hands pushed down under John’s pants to grab his arse, tugging him in sharply and sending a spike of heat up John’s spine and through his cock.
The kiss broke so they could both gasp a breath, gasp moans as John’s body rolled into Sherlock’s, the movement met to grind their bodies along one another. Sherlock shimmied and leaned back into the wall, tipping his head back in invitation for John to kiss and bite at his throat, which he readily did.
Getting the shirt open, John nipped and kissed and lapped his way down Sherlock’s throat to his collarbones, leaving pale pink marks with his teeth, tasting the slowly gathering sweat on his skin and feeling the rising heat against his hands and mouth, along his body. Sherlock moaned, a hand tangling in John’s hair and urging him on.
Pulling on his shirt, he slid it off Sherlock’s shoulders, down his arms and then neatly twisted it, pinning Sherlock’s hands behind him as he bent to close his lips on one nipple, sucking wetly and then blowing a stream of cool air over the spot. He was rewarded with a low sound of want and felt tugging against the cloth he held; he smiled to himself and repeated the gesture on the other side to draw more sounds and flinches of desire.
“John...”
His name was said as a drawn out moan, Sherlock’s body rolling against him again. He came up for another kiss, pressing close and rocking into Sherlock’s body in return.
“Bed,” Sherlock whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe and tugging on it. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Christ,” John exhaled. “You got-”
“Condoms and lubricant, in my room.” His mouth closed on John’s ear, sucking on the lobe.
They moved together, John keeping hold of Sherlock’s shirt, keeping his hands pinned as they kissed their way to Sherlock’s bedroom. It was chaotic, but at least he didn’t complain when John let him go to pull the blankets and piles of paperwork off of the mattress. He took the chance to free his hands and get his shoes and socks off, working on his belt when John looked back at him. “Strip. It’s quicker.”
John swallowed dryly and nodded, pulling off his jumper and tossing it aside, losing his shoes and pants as fast as he could. Sherlock stretched out on the bed once he had stripped, all long, lean lines and pale skin against the dark sheets.
John couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone so desperately. He almost fell onto the bed and Sherlock’s body, swiftly being wrapped in Sherlock’s arms and legs, their naked bodies sliding against one another, and electric shock through his body as their bare cocks touched and rubbed and made them both moan.
One of Sherlock’s hands was grabbing at his bedside table, pulling it open and blindly pulling out what was inside. A handful of condoms, a bottle of lube and a half melted phone case were dropped on the pillow; John chucked the melted phone away and grabbed the lube, distracted as Sherlock grabbed his neck and pulled him down into another spine tingling kiss.
A couple of drops of lube spilled across Sherlock’s stomach and their cocks as John managed to get it open and get his fingers slicked up. Seizing on the oppourtunity, Sherlock waited until John was pushing a finger into him to grasp their erections together and tug.
It was liquid heat and perfect sensuality, kissing each other over and over as John worked his fingers into Sherlock’s body, both of them rolling and shifting with the movements, with one another.
As he eased out three fingers, Sherlock grabbed a pack and opened it deftly, grabbing John’s cock and stroking it as he rolled the condom on. “Mm, I’m looking forward to this,” he murmured, biting John’s ear again. “Much more satisfactory than Mycroft.”
The heat of lust didn’t just fade. It was a candle faced with an Arctic blizzard. “What?”
Sherlock paused, seeming to pick up something was wrong. “What?”
“I... must have misheard you then.” He must have. “Because I thought you said that us having sex was going to be much better than... with Mycroft. Your brother.”
There was another pause. “Not good?”
“Not... Sherlock, you can’t actually mean that you’ve had sex with Mycroft,” John choked out.
“Well... not recently,” he agreed amicably. “He’s been too busy and I’ve been more interested in-”
“No, no, no, stop, stop right there.” John sat back on his heels, ignoring the way Sherlock pouted at him for moving away. “You have- sex. Sex with your brother?” Manipulative, overbearing Mycroft and suddenly he realised just why Sherlock hated his brother and avoided being around him. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him, then put him back together and kill him again.”
“John, kindly don’t try to kill my brother, Mummy would be terribly upset about the resulting mess.” Sherlock leaned up on his elbows. “Does this mean you’re not going to have sex with me? Because I really would like to get back to it if we are.”
“What did he do to you, Sherlock?” John leaned to cup Sherlock’s face with his hands. “Tell me what he did.”
“Kinky...” Sherlock purred with a smug smile.
“What? No! I mean what he did to make you go along with that, with... having sex with him!”
“He... asked?” He sighed theatrically. “Honestly, it’s not that big a deal, John. On odd occasions, Mycroft and I have had sex. I don’t trust many people, he’s too busy to find someone with enough security clearance to have an affair with. It’s convenient.”
“He’s your brother!” John felt slightly sick.
“It’s not like we’re going to inbreed,” Sherlock argued. “It’s a purely physical arrangement. We both have urges. We find each other convenient for venting them. Mycroft likes to take, I enjoy being taken and we know exactly how much the other can take.”
“It’s incest.”
“It’s logical.” Sherlock sat up, shifting closer to John, wrapping his long legs around his waist. “Stop thinking with societal expectations. They don’t apply to me or my brother. Or you.”
“Your brother...”
“Yes, and it helps him keep the weight down too... Isn’t that some people’s fantasy, a pair of twins, a set of siblings in a threesome?” He leaned in, kissing John’s jaw. “We could make it happen if you would like, sometime. Right now, I would really prefer to get back to what we were doing.” His hand slid down to John’s flagging erection and started touching, to urge heat back into the moment.
“Sherlock, that is so wrong.” He was telling himself as much as Sherlock, that he shouldn’t even begin thinking about it.
“No more wrong than shooting an unarmed serial killer. We’re not hurting anyone. Except occasionally when we feel like getting a bit rough. He does like putting me over a desk and taking me hard. He’s a prat, but he can be a wonderfully masterful one sometimes.” Sherlock’s voice was liquid sex, coaxing John onwards, past the shock and horror and towards heated acceptance. “I’d love to see him at work on you. I think you’d enjoy it, you’re strong, solid, you could take anything he gave you.”
“Sherlock,” he groaned, hips twitching as he was stroked firmly.
“But really, I would much prefer you in my bed. I like you. I respect you. You have a beautifully firm, toned body and so much passion hidden under that cool soldier mask.” Their lips met in another slow, deep kiss, tongues stroking against one another.
Somewhere along the way, Sherlock had leaned back and John was over him again.
“I’m happy to use Mycroft but I really would prefer this between us. You pour emotion into every kiss and revel not in the power but the pleasure you can bring. I’m selfish and you love to give.” Another hard, heady kiss and Sherlock’s fingers were guiding him to his body.
John gave in and pushed, inhaling at the tight clench around him and the soft noise of pure desire that Sherlock made, stretching himself out under John with a luxurious movement. “Yes. More. Don’t go easy, I’m ready.”
John wasn’t strong enough to argue with that. He leaned on his hands over his lover and moved, pushing deep in a smooth movement that made him feel like he was on fire.
Sherlock twisted and tensed his body, eyes heavy lidded and kiss dark lips curled into a faint smile. He pressed with his feet against John, urging him to move, to take and John obliged, driving into Sherlock with long, firm thrusts, watching his face as he reacted each time, their breaths mingling as they panted for breath.
It only took a nudge to make Sherlock curve his spine and shift the angle. The next thrust drew a low cry from him, made him tense around John in the most delicious way. Sherlock’s legs untangled from his waist, feet pressing to the bed, on his toes and panting and gasping as John wrapped his arms around that slim waist and took with merciless passion, driving into his prostate over and over. Sweat coated that pale skin in a sheen that he eagerly lapped at, chasing the lines of muscle that showed every time Sherlock twisted or ached or stretched for more.
It was when Sherlock’s breath shortened further, his low sounds becoming barely gasped and that tightness gripping John’s cock tensed further that he was coming hard, bucking sharp and erratic into Sherlock. His mouth sucked and bit at Sherlock’s skin, grinding into him and against him until he was coming with a near pained sounding sob, jerking as his come slicked their stomachs.
Slowly, John let Sherlock back to the bed, carefully moving out of him and disposing of the condom in the waste bin nearby before flopping down next to his flatmate.
Sherlock’s eyes were close, mouth curved in a smug smile. “I knew it would be better,” he murmured. “I feel fantastic.”
“I feel exhausted,” John sighed.
“Then sleep for a while. I’m going to enjoy the endorphins.” He flopped an arm out and John hesitated, then took the invitation to rest his head on Sherlock’s shoulder.
He was nearly asleep when he felt Sherlock kiss his ear and murmur, “But I’m still looking forward to sandwiching you between us and shagging you stupid.”
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson mention of Mycroft Holmes
Rating: 18+
Summary: Moment before having sex together for the first time is not the time to drop bombshells about your brother. Written for this prompt.
Warnings: Explicit sex. Discussion of incest.
John broke the kiss with a gasp, staring dumbfounded up at Sherlock. “You... But...”
“I’m human, John. I have needs. I have urges and sometimes it’s much more satisfying to fulfil them than ignore them.” He ran his hands up John’s stomach, over his chest to hold his shoulders. “I’d like to satisfy them with you,” he breathed out.
John stared up at Sherlock, at those flushed, full lips and dilated pupils. “God, yes.”
Sherlock smiled. “Good.” And then they were crashing together again, mouths slick against one another as they kissed, John sucking on Sherlock’s lower lip as those elegant, long fingered hands slid back down his body and around his waist, pushing up under his clothes to grasp at the skin of his back.
In return, John pushed Sherlock back against the wall, pushing his way between his legs as he came in for another, deeper kiss. His hands tugged to get Sherlock’s shirt from his belt, to start pulling it open so that he could feel Sherlock’s body, run his hands over that perfectly pale skin as their tongues met and tangled.
Sherlock’s body rolled against his, slow and sensuous, moaning into their kiss. His hands pushed down under John’s pants to grab his arse, tugging him in sharply and sending a spike of heat up John’s spine and through his cock.
The kiss broke so they could both gasp a breath, gasp moans as John’s body rolled into Sherlock’s, the movement met to grind their bodies along one another. Sherlock shimmied and leaned back into the wall, tipping his head back in invitation for John to kiss and bite at his throat, which he readily did.
Getting the shirt open, John nipped and kissed and lapped his way down Sherlock’s throat to his collarbones, leaving pale pink marks with his teeth, tasting the slowly gathering sweat on his skin and feeling the rising heat against his hands and mouth, along his body. Sherlock moaned, a hand tangling in John’s hair and urging him on.
Pulling on his shirt, he slid it off Sherlock’s shoulders, down his arms and then neatly twisted it, pinning Sherlock’s hands behind him as he bent to close his lips on one nipple, sucking wetly and then blowing a stream of cool air over the spot. He was rewarded with a low sound of want and felt tugging against the cloth he held; he smiled to himself and repeated the gesture on the other side to draw more sounds and flinches of desire.
“John...”
His name was said as a drawn out moan, Sherlock’s body rolling against him again. He came up for another kiss, pressing close and rocking into Sherlock’s body in return.
“Bed,” Sherlock whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe and tugging on it. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Christ,” John exhaled. “You got-”
“Condoms and lubricant, in my room.” His mouth closed on John’s ear, sucking on the lobe.
They moved together, John keeping hold of Sherlock’s shirt, keeping his hands pinned as they kissed their way to Sherlock’s bedroom. It was chaotic, but at least he didn’t complain when John let him go to pull the blankets and piles of paperwork off of the mattress. He took the chance to free his hands and get his shoes and socks off, working on his belt when John looked back at him. “Strip. It’s quicker.”
John swallowed dryly and nodded, pulling off his jumper and tossing it aside, losing his shoes and pants as fast as he could. Sherlock stretched out on the bed once he had stripped, all long, lean lines and pale skin against the dark sheets.
John couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone so desperately. He almost fell onto the bed and Sherlock’s body, swiftly being wrapped in Sherlock’s arms and legs, their naked bodies sliding against one another, and electric shock through his body as their bare cocks touched and rubbed and made them both moan.
One of Sherlock’s hands was grabbing at his bedside table, pulling it open and blindly pulling out what was inside. A handful of condoms, a bottle of lube and a half melted phone case were dropped on the pillow; John chucked the melted phone away and grabbed the lube, distracted as Sherlock grabbed his neck and pulled him down into another spine tingling kiss.
A couple of drops of lube spilled across Sherlock’s stomach and their cocks as John managed to get it open and get his fingers slicked up. Seizing on the oppourtunity, Sherlock waited until John was pushing a finger into him to grasp their erections together and tug.
It was liquid heat and perfect sensuality, kissing each other over and over as John worked his fingers into Sherlock’s body, both of them rolling and shifting with the movements, with one another.
As he eased out three fingers, Sherlock grabbed a pack and opened it deftly, grabbing John’s cock and stroking it as he rolled the condom on. “Mm, I’m looking forward to this,” he murmured, biting John’s ear again. “Much more satisfactory than Mycroft.”
The heat of lust didn’t just fade. It was a candle faced with an Arctic blizzard. “What?”
Sherlock paused, seeming to pick up something was wrong. “What?”
“I... must have misheard you then.” He must have. “Because I thought you said that us having sex was going to be much better than... with Mycroft. Your brother.”
There was another pause. “Not good?”
“Not... Sherlock, you can’t actually mean that you’ve had sex with Mycroft,” John choked out.
“Well... not recently,” he agreed amicably. “He’s been too busy and I’ve been more interested in-”
“No, no, no, stop, stop right there.” John sat back on his heels, ignoring the way Sherlock pouted at him for moving away. “You have- sex. Sex with your brother?” Manipulative, overbearing Mycroft and suddenly he realised just why Sherlock hated his brother and avoided being around him. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him, then put him back together and kill him again.”
“John, kindly don’t try to kill my brother, Mummy would be terribly upset about the resulting mess.” Sherlock leaned up on his elbows. “Does this mean you’re not going to have sex with me? Because I really would like to get back to it if we are.”
“What did he do to you, Sherlock?” John leaned to cup Sherlock’s face with his hands. “Tell me what he did.”
“Kinky...” Sherlock purred with a smug smile.
“What? No! I mean what he did to make you go along with that, with... having sex with him!”
“He... asked?” He sighed theatrically. “Honestly, it’s not that big a deal, John. On odd occasions, Mycroft and I have had sex. I don’t trust many people, he’s too busy to find someone with enough security clearance to have an affair with. It’s convenient.”
“He’s your brother!” John felt slightly sick.
“It’s not like we’re going to inbreed,” Sherlock argued. “It’s a purely physical arrangement. We both have urges. We find each other convenient for venting them. Mycroft likes to take, I enjoy being taken and we know exactly how much the other can take.”
“It’s incest.”
“It’s logical.” Sherlock sat up, shifting closer to John, wrapping his long legs around his waist. “Stop thinking with societal expectations. They don’t apply to me or my brother. Or you.”
“Your brother...”
“Yes, and it helps him keep the weight down too... Isn’t that some people’s fantasy, a pair of twins, a set of siblings in a threesome?” He leaned in, kissing John’s jaw. “We could make it happen if you would like, sometime. Right now, I would really prefer to get back to what we were doing.” His hand slid down to John’s flagging erection and started touching, to urge heat back into the moment.
“Sherlock, that is so wrong.” He was telling himself as much as Sherlock, that he shouldn’t even begin thinking about it.
“No more wrong than shooting an unarmed serial killer. We’re not hurting anyone. Except occasionally when we feel like getting a bit rough. He does like putting me over a desk and taking me hard. He’s a prat, but he can be a wonderfully masterful one sometimes.” Sherlock’s voice was liquid sex, coaxing John onwards, past the shock and horror and towards heated acceptance. “I’d love to see him at work on you. I think you’d enjoy it, you’re strong, solid, you could take anything he gave you.”
“Sherlock,” he groaned, hips twitching as he was stroked firmly.
“But really, I would much prefer you in my bed. I like you. I respect you. You have a beautifully firm, toned body and so much passion hidden under that cool soldier mask.” Their lips met in another slow, deep kiss, tongues stroking against one another.
Somewhere along the way, Sherlock had leaned back and John was over him again.
“I’m happy to use Mycroft but I really would prefer this between us. You pour emotion into every kiss and revel not in the power but the pleasure you can bring. I’m selfish and you love to give.” Another hard, heady kiss and Sherlock’s fingers were guiding him to his body.
John gave in and pushed, inhaling at the tight clench around him and the soft noise of pure desire that Sherlock made, stretching himself out under John with a luxurious movement. “Yes. More. Don’t go easy, I’m ready.”
John wasn’t strong enough to argue with that. He leaned on his hands over his lover and moved, pushing deep in a smooth movement that made him feel like he was on fire.
Sherlock twisted and tensed his body, eyes heavy lidded and kiss dark lips curled into a faint smile. He pressed with his feet against John, urging him to move, to take and John obliged, driving into Sherlock with long, firm thrusts, watching his face as he reacted each time, their breaths mingling as they panted for breath.
It only took a nudge to make Sherlock curve his spine and shift the angle. The next thrust drew a low cry from him, made him tense around John in the most delicious way. Sherlock’s legs untangled from his waist, feet pressing to the bed, on his toes and panting and gasping as John wrapped his arms around that slim waist and took with merciless passion, driving into his prostate over and over. Sweat coated that pale skin in a sheen that he eagerly lapped at, chasing the lines of muscle that showed every time Sherlock twisted or ached or stretched for more.
It was when Sherlock’s breath shortened further, his low sounds becoming barely gasped and that tightness gripping John’s cock tensed further that he was coming hard, bucking sharp and erratic into Sherlock. His mouth sucked and bit at Sherlock’s skin, grinding into him and against him until he was coming with a near pained sounding sob, jerking as his come slicked their stomachs.
Slowly, John let Sherlock back to the bed, carefully moving out of him and disposing of the condom in the waste bin nearby before flopping down next to his flatmate.
Sherlock’s eyes were close, mouth curved in a smug smile. “I knew it would be better,” he murmured. “I feel fantastic.”
“I feel exhausted,” John sighed.
“Then sleep for a while. I’m going to enjoy the endorphins.” He flopped an arm out and John hesitated, then took the invitation to rest his head on Sherlock’s shoulder.
He was nearly asleep when he felt Sherlock kiss his ear and murmur, “But I’m still looking forward to sandwiching you between us and shagging you stupid.”