Sometimes Sex Alarms Me
Notes: My main excuse is red wine. This is my first attempt to broach the subject of negotiation of sexual activity in a relationship where one party is asexual.
Summary: Occasionally Sherlock joins Greg and John in bed. Sometimes it doesn’t end very well.
Time seemed to have come to a halt, just like everything else. The room - the bed - which just moments ago had been filled with passionate energy and heat was now still and quiet, the only sound being their low panting. Sherlock had rolled over on his back, pressing his hands against his eyes as he tried to force his heart rate and breathing down to normal. Greg and John looked at each other in understanding and with that weary disappointment they had silently vowed to never show Sherlock.
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock mumbled when his breathing was almost calm again and got out of the bed. He snatched his red dressing gown off the floor without putting it on, leaving the door opened as he walked out of the room.
Greg and John let him go without a word. They looked at each other, John shrugged and Greg shook his head, there wasn’t much to say. It wasn’t new - or unusual, though it had been a while since last time - that Sherlock walked out in the middle of sex and their most important bedroom-rule was that as soon as Sherlock said ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or in any way withdrew consent it was All Hands Off. Everything and Right Away. In the past they had tried to stop him from leaving, promising that they would just go to sleep, but experience had taught them that he never wanted to stay. Instead they raised their hands for a quick Rock-Paper-Scissors match to see who was going to go and check on him. On the third try John’s paper covered Greg’s rock and with a sigh John kissed Greg.
“I’ll be back,” he said, smiling wearily as he got up. “Feel free to finish.”
Greg made a face at the idea, making John’s smile less weary as he tried to find his bathrobe. Unlike Sherlock he put it on before leaving the bedroom.
“I’m all right,” Sherlock said as soon as John stepped into the sitting room. He was sitting on the sofa with his face in his hands, the dressing gown tightly closed around him now.
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” Sherlock took a deep breath and met John’s eyes, looking just as wrecked as he always did after abruptly withdrawing consent. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” John said. He nodded in the direction of the sofa to ask if he could sit. Sherlock nodded as well, but went back to hiding his face in his hands as John sat down.
They sat in silence at either ends of the sofa, Sherlock still trying to calm down and regain some control and John picking his fingernails, waiting for some sort of signal from Sherlock. John found it incredibly hard to just sit there, but at least they had a script to follow these days which made it that much easier. Through negotiations, trial and error, and what felt like constant re-negotiations and uncomfortable talks they had figured out a way to deal with this situation. It wasn’t perfect yet, none of them would argue that it was, but it worked without anyone falling to pieces or getting angry.
Finally Sherlock took a deep breath and looked up from his hands. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, turning to John. “Go back upstairs, I think Greg is about thirty seconds from coming down too.”
“You coming back up after the shower?”
Sherlock shook his head. “I’ll sleep in my bed.”
“Okay,” John said, taking Sherlock’s hand for a moment. “I love you.”
Sherlock squeezed his hand once but didn’t say anything else before going to the bathroom. John waited until he heard the shower running before he walked upstairs. Greg was already on his way out of bed when John came back to the bedroom and John couldn’t help smiling.
“Shower and bed,” he said as he walked up to Greg and kissed his forehead.
“Did you ask what happened?”
“No,” John said, tracing Greg’s neck with his fingers. “I just think it was… you know.”
“Yeah.” Greg pulled him closer. “You okay?”
John sighed. “Yes. You?”
“I’m fine,” Greg mumbled, slowly untying John’s bathrobe so that he could rest his head against John’s belly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They both sighed, there weren’t much more to say. John kept stroking Greg’s neck, treasuring being able to touch him. Sherlock claimed that it was fine by him if they continued to have sex after he left, sometimes he even encouraged them to, but having one of your partners flee the bedroom was a real mood killer and the idea of picking up where they’d left always felt very foreign. That didn’t mean that they didn’t appreciate the closeness and they had never quite figured out why Sherlock didn’t want it - when they both needed it - after something like this happened.
So they remained as they were, silently waiting to hear Sherlock turn off the shower and close his bedroom door.
Hoping and wishing that it wouldn’t take too long.
-x-
Chapter 2
Summary: Occasionally Sherlock joins Greg and John in bed. Sometimes it doesn’t end very well.
Time seemed to have come to a halt, just like everything else. The room - the bed - which just moments ago had been filled with passionate energy and heat was now still and quiet, the only sound being their low panting. Sherlock had rolled over on his back, pressing his hands against his eyes as he tried to force his heart rate and breathing down to normal. Greg and John looked at each other in understanding and with that weary disappointment they had silently vowed to never show Sherlock.
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock mumbled when his breathing was almost calm again and got out of the bed. He snatched his red dressing gown off the floor without putting it on, leaving the door opened as he walked out of the room.
Greg and John let him go without a word. They looked at each other, John shrugged and Greg shook his head, there wasn’t much to say. It wasn’t new - or unusual, though it had been a while since last time - that Sherlock walked out in the middle of sex and their most important bedroom-rule was that as soon as Sherlock said ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or in any way withdrew consent it was All Hands Off. Everything and Right Away. In the past they had tried to stop him from leaving, promising that they would just go to sleep, but experience had taught them that he never wanted to stay. Instead they raised their hands for a quick Rock-Paper-Scissors match to see who was going to go and check on him. On the third try John’s paper covered Greg’s rock and with a sigh John kissed Greg.
“I’ll be back,” he said, smiling wearily as he got up. “Feel free to finish.”
Greg made a face at the idea, making John’s smile less weary as he tried to find his bathrobe. Unlike Sherlock he put it on before leaving the bedroom.
“I’m all right,” Sherlock said as soon as John stepped into the sitting room. He was sitting on the sofa with his face in his hands, the dressing gown tightly closed around him now.
“Do you need anything?”
“No.” Sherlock took a deep breath and met John’s eyes, looking just as wrecked as he always did after abruptly withdrawing consent. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” John said. He nodded in the direction of the sofa to ask if he could sit. Sherlock nodded as well, but went back to hiding his face in his hands as John sat down.
They sat in silence at either ends of the sofa, Sherlock still trying to calm down and regain some control and John picking his fingernails, waiting for some sort of signal from Sherlock. John found it incredibly hard to just sit there, but at least they had a script to follow these days which made it that much easier. Through negotiations, trial and error, and what felt like constant re-negotiations and uncomfortable talks they had figured out a way to deal with this situation. It wasn’t perfect yet, none of them would argue that it was, but it worked without anyone falling to pieces or getting angry.
Finally Sherlock took a deep breath and looked up from his hands. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, turning to John. “Go back upstairs, I think Greg is about thirty seconds from coming down too.”
“You coming back up after the shower?”
Sherlock shook his head. “I’ll sleep in my bed.”
“Okay,” John said, taking Sherlock’s hand for a moment. “I love you.”
Sherlock squeezed his hand once but didn’t say anything else before going to the bathroom. John waited until he heard the shower running before he walked upstairs. Greg was already on his way out of bed when John came back to the bedroom and John couldn’t help smiling.
“Shower and bed,” he said as he walked up to Greg and kissed his forehead.
“Did you ask what happened?”
“No,” John said, tracing Greg’s neck with his fingers. “I just think it was… you know.”
“Yeah.” Greg pulled him closer. “You okay?”
John sighed. “Yes. You?”
“I’m fine,” Greg mumbled, slowly untying John’s bathrobe so that he could rest his head against John’s belly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They both sighed, there weren’t much more to say. John kept stroking Greg’s neck, treasuring being able to touch him. Sherlock claimed that it was fine by him if they continued to have sex after he left, sometimes he even encouraged them to, but having one of your partners flee the bedroom was a real mood killer and the idea of picking up where they’d left always felt very foreign. That didn’t mean that they didn’t appreciate the closeness and they had never quite figured out why Sherlock didn’t want it - when they both needed it - after something like this happened.
So they remained as they were, silently waiting to hear Sherlock turn off the shower and close his bedroom door.
Hoping and wishing that it wouldn’t take too long.
-x-
Chapter 2