A/N: I don't know why I'm uploading this. I've casually been writing a fic, not in chronological order, and this is possibly the only part of it that's actually finished so I thought I'd upload a preview of it to see if anyone's interested.

The fic I'm writing is younger Sherlock, younger Mycroft and younger Greg Lestrade - which means younger everyone else too. Sherlock and Greg are pretty much slags, and Mycroft... well, he's been drawn in by Gregory.

I started writing this for my own amusement, and it kicked off with an idea of Sherlock dragging Mycroft to a house party. Them little creatures in my head supplying me with stories enjoyed it far too much and gave me more ideas to indulge in.

So far, the main characters are just them 3, but I'm working on getting John involved later. I mean, how can I include Sherlock and Sex without his John? It should be illegal.

This fic is pretty much just sex and emotions. Nothing more, nothing less. Possibly less on the emotions side, but I will work on that, because I practically live off emotional banter.

~~ This isn't the first time Sherlock and Greg have got with each other either. ENJOY and please, tell me if you're interested...

Sherlock started to make his way up the stairs, reaching only half way before giving up and perching on one of the steps. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his index finger and thumb against both, sighing heavily as he rubbed his hand over his face, attempting to shut out the loud, busy sounds, the smells of aftershave, perfume and alcohol surrounding him. He stared straight ahead of him at the front door, squinting and frowning as he tried to force his vision to focus. He suddenly felt a foot nudge gently into his side, he didn't look up until the foot nudged again, much more prominently. He turned and looked up to find Greg Lestrade looking down on him with a smirk spread wide across his face.

"Urgh, Greg. Make yourself scarce, will you. I've had enough of being in the presence of Mycroft all day." He frowned as Greg grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "What- Greg. Get off, let go." He protested, but he didn't have the strength to fight Greg, and he didn't like the idea of falling down the stairs after a minor squabble. He allowed Greg to pull him up the stairs and into one of the rooms. He didn't know which room it was, and quite frankly he didn't care. He felt dizzy and his head was pounding, he just wanted it to go away, and if Greg had a solution to it all, he'd willingly accept.

Greg pulled him into one of the rooms, closing the door after him. He guided him to the bed in the middle of the room and forced him to sit down, although the force wasn't needed, Sherlock was dying to sit down. "Greg, I'm not up for this. Not tonight." He said as he pushed himself backwards onto the bed, encouraged by Greg's hands pushing lightly on his shoulders. He made to protest again, but was silenced by Greg's lips meeting his.

He sighed into the kiss, his hands moving to Greg's hips, Greg's gripping at his shoulders as he moved to crawl on top of him, forcing Sherlock to lie down. He straddled Sherlock's stomach, his feet digging into his hips whilst his knees dug into his rib cage. His hands moved to Sherlock's neck, caressing the sides, moving round slowly, caressing more gently and thoughtfully on the nape of his neck as he continued to work on Sherlock's mouth with his.

Sherlock pulled out of the kiss, the only way possible in the position he was in, lifting his head back slightly, giving Greg's mouth something else to show attention too. "Greg, we shouldn't. What about Mycroft? He'll kill me."

Greg sighed against Sherlock's flush skin, whispering softly as he pressed gentle kisses to his out stretched, pale neck "Don't worry about him." His fingers unwrapped themselves from the back of his neck and gripped at the hem on Sherlock's t-shirt. "He's not important, not anymore."

He sat up, pulling Sherlock up to rest on his elbows by his t-shirt. He tugged at the bottom, hinting for its disappearance as soon as possible before removing his own. He threw his own to the floor, soon followed by Sherlock's. He bent over Sherlock, their tongues colliding in a deep messy, kiss as Sherlock got pushed backwards again, lying back onto the sheets and spreading his legs instinctively as Greg grinded his clothed cock against Sherlock's stomach.

He shifted down Sherlock's body, straddling his thighs, his fingertips dancing over white as snow skin, which despite the impression the colour gave, was practically radiating heat at this point, tiny specs of sweat appearing.

Sherlock's body arched at the contact of cool fingertips brushing lightly over the sensitive area under his navel, gasping as he felt a warm, wet line drawn over the skin above the waistband of his jeans.

A few moments passed of gasps and moans from Sherlock, his hands lost somewhere in Greg's hair. He couldn't clearly tell what was going on until he moaned far too loud and had to bite into his hand to prevent anymore unrecognised sounds from escaping as he felt warmth and dampness envelope his cock, which had been exposed in the blurry moments that passed.

Sherlock was far too gone, pleasure was pulsating through his body and he was intoxicated with whatever vile beverages he'd drank whilst he was down stairs. He couldn't control his movements, he had tried to control himself, but everything had overwhelmed him and he couldn't concentrate. Greg was too much, he was much better than Greg knew himself and couldn't control the compliments leaving his mouth as he called out in response to Greg's actions on his now extremely hard and aching cock.

His hips bucked freely into Greg's mouth, his free hand tangling itself into the mess of hair upon Greg's head, his other hand stuffed into his mouth, failing to prevent any other noises escaping. He was moaning uncontrollably and loudly, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried out so much over a blowjob, but he wasn't going complain. "Greg! Urgh... soon. I can't... Please..."

Greg's lips pulled at the corners as he continued to attend to Sherlock's needs, eventually slowly pulling up and sucking harshly on the head, causing Sherlock to reach his climax and cry out his name repeatedly as he thrusted sporadically into his mouth. Greg swallowed every last bit of him and moved up Sherlock's body, running his hand through his hair as he kissed him deeply, before falling to the side of him and staring at the ceiling.

Sherlock began to slow his breathing, turning his head to face Greg, a hazy expression taken over his soft, gentle features as he tried to not close his eyes. "He'll kill me."

"He won't know. He can guess, but he won't know." Greg said softly, avoiding making eye contact with the body next to him.

"He will..." Sherlock whispered as is body succumbed, his hand falling to rest on top of Greg's.

Greg looked down at the hand on top of his, feeling a sudden, unwelcome burn in his stomach. He wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or the guilt from the nights events, but it was there and he was certain it was the latter.

He moved up off the bed, grabbing a blanket from the side and pulling it over Sherlock. He sighed as he looked over the body sprawled over the bed and cursed himself for thinking of Mycroft. A sudden feeling of guilt overwhelmed him, even more than before, as he realised he hadn't just got himself into a little bit of trouble, but he'd dragged Sherlock down with him. He walked over to the door and turned the lock, remembering that he wanted it unlocked for the danger side of the activity, which had taken place not even 5 minutes ago.

He undid his belt and took of his jeans, before climbing onto the bed and settling himself down next to Sherlock, running his hand through the dark brown, chocolatey coloured locks as he whispered "sorry" and allowed himself to fall victim to sleep.