When John came home from a frustrating day at work, he was welcomed by... groaning. There was also some gasping, a very whiny moan and slick noises to go with it.
He walked through and found Mary and Sherlock on the sofa, sitting next to each other. Sherlock was leaning back, Mary forward on the edge of the sofa, but both were staring intently at the telly, where the camera was on a man's pale arse and a dark man rolling a condom onto his own cock behind him, straddling two hairy legs belonging to a third actor.
"What... What are you watching?" John asked, startling both of his partners.
Quickly turning her attention back to the screen, Mary answered: "Jim made a new film. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen."
Sherlock cleared his throat and Mary quickly added: "Hottest thing without Sherwood, of course."
Sherlock chuckled and turned to John. "Come join us," he said. "It's almost finished."
"You're watching Jim? Jim Moriarty?" John asked. The camera now moved around and he did indeed recognise the dark-haired man in the middle, who was begging and cursing, and the blond giant under him: Moriarty's bodyguard-like boyfriend, Moran. He didn't know the dark-skinned actor. "Is this some form of Stockholm syndrome? Watching the man you've finally escaped from?" He crossed his arms and looked down at Sherlock.
"They were both my colleagues," Sherlock said. "It's interesting. And they're trying new things with this. James has improved his oral skills immensely."
"Not to mention that," Mary said, gesturing at the screen where the third man, who was tall and lean, was pushing his long but slender cock into Jim's arse, which was already more than filled by Moran's.
John huffed. "It looks painful. I wouldn't have thought Moriarty would put himself in that position, being the boss and all."
"It's not as bad as he's making it look." Sherlock said. "I could do that easily. Besides, he was well prepared. They even showed most of it."
"That plug..." Mary shivered. "Have you ever taken anything that big?"
Sherlock shrugged and shook his head.
"Just..." John took a deep breath through his nose. "Just let me get this straight. You're spending your days off watching new films with that fucking bastard who had Sherlock sedated just so he could hurt him badly? And I'm supposed to think that this is okay?"
"We're watching Jim get fucked six ways from Sunday," Mary said.
"And I'm considering working with that third actor," Sherlock added. "He's both skilled and very charismatic."
"Isn't he just another Moran if he wants to work with Moriarty?" John said. "Or is that exactly what you're hoping for?"
"He's gorgeous," Sherlock said calmly. "And he can act. I suppose in that way he is quite similar to Jim."
"John, see this," Mary said, pausing the film. "Look. There. In the background. Isn't that the sexiest car you've ever seen?"
"I don't care about the car," John snapped, too busy glaring at Sherlock. He wasn't quite sure why he'd gotten so angry. It made sense that Sherlock watched films for inspiration, but... This was Jim Moriarty. He just couldn't stand hearing Sherlock speak of him with such admiration. Almost as though he missed working for him. Missed being with him.
"You shouldn't," Sherlock said, focusing on the screen. "It's poorly chosen for this movie. It's American, it's vintage and it's just not believable that those men would drive a car like that." He shook his head. "So typically James. He just goes for the shiniest object. Never any thought. Any substance... Git."
"He definitely is a git," John said, relaxing slightly. "I don't know what you two see in him."
"Talent," Sherlock said.
"A cute arse," Mary added.
They both giggled and gestured for John to come sit between them.
John rolled his eyes but complied anyway. The moans coming from the television were quickly becoming ridiculously loud and he tried to look anywhere but at the screen. "Do we have to keep watching this?"
"Only a few more minutes," Sherlock said. "He's about to..."
"Whoop..." Mary laughed. "There he goes."
From the sounds of it, Jim's orgasm set off the other two men who pounded into him even harder.
Sherlock leaned back and sighed. "The idea was good, but why did it have to be so crude?"
Mary frowned. "You didn't like it? I thought it was hot."
"It had its moments," Sherlock said. "But look at it logically. The premise itself. Whenever Moran is involved, it always turns into some kind of abuse. I mean, you've seen the army one." He turned to John. "And that one at the garage. Sex always becomes punishment with him. And this one started out as actual rape. Never mind that their victim was obviously enjoying himself. Throwing someone bound and gagged into the trunk of your car should not be considered foreplay."
"Unless you're into that kind of thing," Mary said. "If it's a roleplay."
"But is anyone actually into that?" John asked, pulling a face.
"Oh yes," Mary said. "I've read some stories..."
Suddenly Sherlock gasped. "Mary!" he cried, pushing John aside so he could lean over and kiss her cheek. "You're a genius. James wasn't sloppy. He was subtle!"
"I... Oh... What?" Mary was blushing a little, but smiling at the rare compliment.
"Yes, what?" John repeated, staring at Sherlock leaning over his lap. "How was that subtle?"
Sherlock snorted and then gave John a quick kiss before getting to his feet. He began pacing the room as he explained: "It's a fantasy. Jim's fantasy... Or rather his character's. It makes perfect sense. The exaggerated car. The quick change from struggling victim to eager participant. It was all set up for his benefit. Those two were his lovers, giving him a treat."
Mary shook her head. "But if that's the premise, why didn't they ever make it clear?"
"Because this film is aimed at two audiences," Sherlock said, his grin almost maniacal. "That's the most brilliant part. Those who'll get off on the rape-story and those who'll pick up on how it's all staged and just see it as some hot consensual roleplaying."
"Yes, Moriarty is really brilliant," John said flatly. "He should hear you. He'd immediately conclude that you're ready to marry him..."
"I can respect him professionally without having any personal interest in him," Sherlock said, looking confused.
Mary laughed.
"Besides," Sherlock added. "He's not that brilliant. He missed a much larger audience. If I were to do a film about one man being treated by his two lovers, I would go about it much differently."
"Fine, I'll ask," John said, rolling his eyes again. "You're going to tell us anyway. What would you do?"
"I wasn't going to tell you," Sherlock said, his frown turning into a smirk. "I was going to show you. Mary?" He held a hand out to her. "A word, please."
John stared at him. "I... erm. You mean...?" He cleared his throat and crossed his arms even more tightly in front of his chest, this time more to feel in control than out of anger. "As long as you don't expect me to like being put in a boot..."
Sherlock pulled Mary to the other end of the room and whispered to her for several minutes. She looked hesitant, but then nodded. Sherlock hugged her and took her hand before walking back to where John was sitting.
"Don't worry," he said. "It's nothing as elaborate. Just... a small sample to give you an idea." Letting go of Mary's hand, he bent down to give John a deep kiss. When he pulled away, Mary took his place.
While she was kissing John, Sherlock knelt down in front of him and began opening his jeans.
John squirmed a bit to help Sherlock pull them down, but he found he couldn't quite lose himself in the kisses. Somehow he was all too aware that it was Moriarty and Moran who had inspired Sherlock and Mary to do this. That he was in Moriarty's place. He suppressed a shiver.
Once John's clothes were out of the way, Mary knelt too. She smiled shyly up at John and then turned her head to kiss Sherlock. They each placed a hand on one of John's knees and they stroked slowly up his thigh until their hands met.
John shivered again, but this time in pleasure. Seeing how fond Sherlock and Mary were of each other always gave him a warm feeling, but the rare times they actually kissed or touched in a more than friendly way... It was wonderful. And these soft touches were nothing like what would happen in Moriarty's films. Maybe he could forget what had put them up to this. He let out a sigh and reached out to pet their heads.
As Mary's hand wrapped around John's cock, Sherlock's covered it and guided her in long, languid strokes. Their kiss deepened and a small trembling moan escaped Mary, making Sherlock smile against her lips. With his free hand, Sherlock pushed John's legs further apart and then they were both leaning closer. They broke apart when their mouths were inches away from John's cock and with a mischievous glance up at him, Mary leaned in for the first lick, quickly followed by Sherlock.
"Fuck," John moaned, throwing his head back. Then he looked back down and let out a whimper. "Oh, God..."
By now they both had their lips on his cock, moving up and down, chasing each other playfully, their tongues meeting and tangling, then breaking apart again. Sherlock moved to the tip and sucked John in, then pulled away and let Mary have a go.
John groaned. "This... is definitely working as a fantasy... coming true..." He gasped and tried not to buck his hips too much.
They both glanced up at him and then continued snogging each other eagerly around his cock.
John forced himself to keep watching them, and all too soon he gasped out: "Close..."
There was a small friendly struggle and then Mary wrapped her lips around the head and Sherlock moved down to lick his balls.
John came with a loud groan, finally allowing himself to close his eyes for a moment. "Oh fuck," he panted. "You two are going to be the end of me..."
Mary swallowed and then giggled as Sherlock kissed her, licking her lips eagerly. Then they both looked up at John, beaming.
John smiled back at them. "That was amazing. Thank you." He held out a hand to each of them. "Come here."
Taking John's hands they moved up to sit next to him. Mary kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you like it," she said. "I don't remember ever being so nervous before."
John chuckled. "You didn't look nervous..." He kissed her and then turned to Sherlock to kiss him too. "It was brilliant. And now I really want to thank you properly, but I only have one mouth..."
They both laughed at this.
"I guess one of us will have to wait their turn," Mary said. "And since I'm not absolutely horrible at waiting..." She looked pointedly at Sherlock.
"No," Sherlock said at once. "You should take care of Mary. She did a very brave and special thing for you, John."
"And now he'll reward me by fulfilling one of my fantasies," she countered. "So you might as well strip, Sherlock. You know we've already seen it all anyway."
John grinned. "I agree. Sherlock first." He shifted on the sofa and started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt.
Sherlock put his hands over John's. "You really don't have to," he said. "You should start with Mary."
John lifted his knuckles to kiss them. "But I'd like to. And you know Mary is more than okay with watching us. I don't want you to think that this has to be a one-way thing. I'm not Moran..."
"I don't think it's like that," Sherlock said. "It's just... I already feel good. I enjoy making you feel good."
John sat back a little, but stroked the back of Sherlock's hands gently. "Well, obviously it's fine if you don't want this. But if you do, I'd really enjoy making you feel even better."
Mary leaned against John's shoulder, and reached over to take Sherlock's hand. "It'll be okay," she said. "Just relax."
Sherlock looked back and forth between them. Then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Just... don't expect... anything..."
John raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't I be the one telling you not to expect too much? I've never done this, remember. You just sit back and relax and if there's something I can do better, tell me." He gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze and continued with his buttons, then pushed the shirt off Sherlock's shoulders and trailed his hands down his arms before he started on his trousers.
Sherlock closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow but other than that he seemed perfectly at ease.
John smiled and gave him a soft kiss before he sank to his knees and pulled Sherlock's trousers down. Then he leaned in and nuzzled his cock through the fabric of his pants. "Okay?" he asked, looking up at Sherlock as he hooked his fingers behind the waistband.
Sherlock gave a single nod.
Mary settled on the other end of the sofa, watching them.
John pulled Sherlock's pants down and smiled a little as he saw that Sherlock wasn't hard yet. Earlier he would have been disappointed, but he knew by now how much control Sherlock had over his body. He wrapped a hand around him and started stroking slowly.
A tiny, surprised gasp turned into a deep moan and Sherlock's cock began to grow in his hand.
John kissed up his thigh as he continued stroking him, and then finally wrapped his lips around the head of Sherlock's cock, giving a few experimental licks.
Sherlock's moan changed to an impossibly low rumble. "Oh John..." he muttered.
Encouraged by the sound, John took him a little further and sucked. He felt a little self-conscious, wishing he'd paid more attention to technique when this had been done to him, but judging by Sherlock's deep purr he wasn't doing too badly.
Sherlock reached out to stroke John's cheek gently. He kept moaning softly and then began trembling. "John... It's... It feels so..." His words were lost in a strange keening sound, unlike anything John had ever heard from him.
John considered pulling back to ask him if he was doing alright, but instead he indulged and took him deeper yet, stroking his thighs and humming a little.
Suddenly Mary was by his side. "It's okay," she said soothingly to Sherlock. "Go ahead. It feels so good, doesn't it? Just enjoy it. Give into it."
Sherlock made a sound very much like a sob and he grasped John's shoulder, clinging to it as his cock began to twitch with approaching orgasm.
Feeling smug, John pulled back a little, not wanting to ruin things by gagging. But he stayed in place, swallowing and licking Sherlock clean, revelling in the idea that he was the only one Sherlock would do this with off camera.
"Mine," he growled, sitting up on his knees to pet Sherlock's neck and shoulders.
Sherlock was panting and looking very dazed. But he smiled and nodded. "All yours," he said.
Mary squeaked happily and then hurried away. John glanced up at her, but as he saw that she was beaming at them before she disappeared into the bathroom, he realised that she was letting them have the moment to themselves and pulled Sherlock down into a long, tender kiss.
Sherlock wrapped his arms tightly around John. When they finally broke apart, he said, almost shyly: "I know I was supposed to go home because you both have work in the morning but... If I promise not to bitch too much when you get up, can I... can I spend the night?"
John smiled. Usually Sherlock only slept with them in the weekends, if he didn't have a project to work on. But the one time when Sherlock had stayed a night longer, he'd been so unpleasant when their alarm went off that they'd all decided it was best if he went home in the evenings before workdays. However, his eyes were so wide and pleading now that John didn't even consider telling him to leave. "Of course," he said, giving Sherlock another soft kiss, before getting up from his protesting knees.
Sitting down next to Sherlock, he put an arm around him and nuzzled his neck. "I'm so glad you let me do this for you."
"I'm sorry I made such a fuss," Sherlock said. "It's just... I felt very exposed. Naked."
"You didn't make a fuss," John said, meeting his eyes and stroking his shoulder. "Is that why you never let me return the favour before? Because you feel... out of control?"
Sherlock bit his lip and nodded. "It's easy when I'm Sherwood. But I don't want it to be like that. Not when I'm with you."
John smiled and kissed his cheek. "I appreciate that. I really am the only one who gets the real you, then," he said happily.
Sherlock nodded. "The only one who ever has," he said.
John beamed. "And I affected you more than Moriarty." He gestured at Sherlock's cock. "Which makes me better than a professional..."
"Is that what's got you so worked up?" Sherlock asked, laughing. "James never affected me like that. He was a good actor and I admire his work. But it was always acting when we were together. Even when the cameras weren't running."
John shrugged, a little sheepish, but at the same time still feeling very smug. "I guess I know that. But when I came in and saw you two watching that scene... Well. That whole power play really isn't something I can offer. And combined with the thought that you'd been with him... I felt a little... possessive."
"You?" Mary said, still drying her hair as she walked out of the bathroom. "Possessive? Never!" She giggled.
"Right." Sherlock laughed too, turning towards her. "How is David doing? Didn't he ask you to spend a weekend with him in France?"
John was already glaring at him before he realised what Sherlock was doing and snorted. "You horrible man!" he exclaimed. He threw himself on Sherlock and began tickling him.
Sherlock cried out and tried to defend himself. A moment later they both tumbled to the floor, laughing while Mary looked on, slowly shaking her head in exasperation.