"Sherlock..." he groaned in warning, until his dark eyes met the pair of excited, grey.
"I want to blow you and then fuck you, Lestrade. Now."
Before Lestrade had a chance to even process what the man had said a hand was in his trousers, fishing his already firming cock out of his pants. He couldn't help but moan softly as Sherlock guided him back against the cement of the building that was sheltering them.
"Sh-it, Sh-Sherlock. We can't...oh fuck. We-we're not doing this here," he groaned, already putty in the younger man's hands as he heard that deep baritone voice rumble near his ear. The heat of Sherlock's body, his hand wrapped around Lestrade's cock, those eyes, that perfect face, those fuckable lips, all driving the detective insane as Sherlock began to whisper. That damned voice purring obscenities would get him every time.
"Oh, do shut up, Lestrade. You love it. You know you love it when I touch you. You love it even more when I push you. Don't you remember how you begged for it a month ago, how good I felt inside you. Stop telling me no when every move you make, every breath you draw has been begging me for it again ever since."
Sherlock's thumb brushed over the head of Lestrade's cock, making the older man shudder weakly as he tried to control himself. He wasn't even sure if the man was wrong. It had only been a few days since Sherlock had finished his program and while Lestrade hadn't thought he'd showed signs when he'd visited the man in treatment, he had been thinking about their last party together.
"You love to watch me, like the way I move, the way I look when I take you in my mouth. You love shutting me up with that big, fat cock of yours. You wish your cheating, slut of a wife could see the hot, eager piece of ass that you've found to play with and you don't feel guilty because she betrayed you long before we started. You want to experience everything with me so don't be so boring and say no because you think you're supposed to. Now I'm going to get to my knees, swallow your cock and you're going to come. Then you're going to turn around, spread your legs and take my cock up your tight, tan ass because we both know you want to."
Greg was already seconds away from exploding as Sherlock sunk to the pavement, a weak whimper leaving his throat as he buried his hands into the dark curls. He looked along his body, seeing that perfect, young, lanky form holding his hips and bobbing on his cock once, twice, on the third press of his cock against the back of Sherlock's throat, the man swallowed, squeezing him in the tight confines of his esophagus. Lestrade came, hard, just like Sherlock had ordered him to.
Moaning as he tried to get himself under control, Greg barely resisted at all a Sherlock turned him and pressed his face against the concrete, pulling down his pants. And when the younger man ordered him to spread himself, Lestrade's hands reached back to part his cheeks at once. Sherlock was exactly right, of course. He wanted every dirty thing that overactive mind could come up with.
A quick, rough preparation with some sort of lubricant that Sherlock must have had on him and Lestrade was biting hard at the scarf wrapped around his mouth to muffle his sounds, that gorgeous, long cock pressing into him insistently. It hurt so perfectly, just enough to send adrenaline coursing through his body as the little nymph behind him hammered him against the building.
"Oh fuck, Lestrade. That's good, that's so good," Sherlock purred against the back of his ear and Greg didn't hold back the whimpers and moans as the younger man took him hard in the dirty alley, the choked sounds only driving Sherlock faster and deeper.
"Mmm, yes. That's such a good boy, Lestrade. I'm going to come up with something extra special to reward you for-ngh...for being so good," Sherlock whispered just before he spilled himself inside the detective's body.
"Mmm, now clean me off so we can get back. Wouldn't want someone to come looking for us, now would we?" Sherlock teased, pressing Greg to his knees and hissing as the hot mouth cleaned his sensitive cock. "I have to say, I barely miss the cocain now. And Mycroft thought nothing would be able to divert me from how good it felt" Sherlock pet the greying hair as his eyes flicked up to the black dome carefully concealed above them, the faint whir of the camera making him smirk. Mycroft always did love to watch.