Note: Please, forgive me for the quickness of this story. It was really a 'of the moment' sort of story which was added to every now and then. It's a little miss-matched but I just wanted to get some things off my chest. It certainly helped. I only hope others can enjoy it. Thanks for reading~!

Warning: Smut. That is all.

The cool drink felt nice to the dry throat, the bubbles tickling the tongue and bringing the much needed relief to the thirsty lips. The glass came back down with a slight thump as the man sat there, a small sigh echoing through his lips.

"You okay?" Came a small question from across the bar. There were a number of people chatting softly through the busy pub. It seemed for a Wednesday night there were a lot of people out in need of a drink. It seemed that John wasn't the only one who needed one… or four. Slowly, the ex-military man lifted his head, the usually perky eyes tired and aching. "John?" Came the same voice; deep, similar- ah- Greg.

"Hm?" The shorter replied, shaking his head as he gave a small and weary yawn. "Oh- Lestrade- I didn't see you there."

"Obviously." The detective muttered, sitting himself down on the bar stool beside him, ordering a pint for himself. For a moment not a word was said, that was until Lestrade took a gulp of lager and sat up straight. "So- what's happened now? Found another finger in the cutlery? Sherlock finally found himself caught by a Russian mafia group? Or has he not come back yet?"

"The last thing…" John muttered, rubbing his eyes with an annoyed groan. "That bastard hasn't said anything for two days straight- he's left the occasional note or the occasional text but hasn't said where he is or what the hell he's doing. Sometimes I wish I didn't bloody worry about him…" He hissed in annoyance, running his fingers through his hair.

Lestrade gave a small snort, rolling his eyes as a tinge of annoyance tightened his chest. "And you wonder why people think you two are gay."

"I'm not with him!" John retaliated. "Why do people think that?! Can't two guys just be friends without people thinking they're gay?! I mean seriously! I- Just- gaah!" The doctor's hand swooped down, grasping the cool pint glass and swallowed a large gulp of beer. He drank and drank before the last drop was gone and the glass was left empty, ready for the bartender to give him a fresh one.

For once he wasn't in the mood for any playing around. John Watson wasn't one for getting angry but lately… Sherlock had been getting on his nerves. Well… more than usual. It had been about two years since they had begun their little 'adventures' and their friendship did have its good times! But… ever since Sherlock had fallen into the obsession of Moriarty it- well- it was difficult to even be around the grand consulting detective. There was barely anything he spoke about… or at least, when he did speak.

Sure the man was good at is work but lately he was literally MARRIED to it! John knew himself that he should be used to it by now but- It just felt that he could barely be around him, or without him. The man was used to worrying… But every moment, thinking about what damn danger he could get in- it was freaking killing him! What was the point?! It wasn't like Sherlock worried about him at all? It was… just… painful.

Greg furrowed his brow and merely sighed loudly. "You worry too much for someone who's old enough to get himself out of trouble- or at least into it and then out of it again. I've seen him get into worst stuff before you showed up." The man sipped his drink and chuckled, placing his hand on the others back. He gave it a small pat before sitting straight and smiling. "I'm sure he's fine. You should think about trying not to worry so much."

"Easier said than done…" Watson chuckled, lifting his head to glance at the detective beside him. "I'm sure you've been the same."

The other frowned for a second and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah- once. When the missus was around but… since she's run off with the P.E teacher I guess I haven't felt worried about someone for a while."

"Why don't you find someone to?"

"…" Greg couldn't help but blink at the question. That was certainly something to think about. Why didn't he? He was divorced now, a free man! He could choose whoever he wanted to be with. It shouldn't be that bad right? Then again… it hadn't taken him long to find someone… He cleared his throat awkwardly and drank his drink, licking the residue from his lips silently. "Perhaps… What about you? Maybe you should find someone else to worry about. Sherlock can't be a healthy friend to be around."

That made John think; instead he just wrinkled his nose and sighed. "The last person I was with was Sarah but… thanks to Sherlock she didn't stay long because of the all- Chinese incident. I don't think anyone wants to hang around us unless they have a problem or kinda, weird. What person would want a guy with a psychotic friend?"

"You would be surprised." Greg muttered beneath his breath, waving his hand to the pub owner, ordering a couple of drinks for himself and John.

For two hours the two seemed to wander into a slur of drinks and conversation. For weeks, even months, they had seemed to find themselves here, drinking and talking as though they had known each other for years. It was getting true though. Especially with the number of chats and drinks they had shared. Little would John know of one of the reasons Lestrade enjoyed his company. It was an unlikely though to anyone that the detective would find appeal from the ex-military doctor. But it wasn't just a sudden feeling… over the years, watching the way John thought and acted- it just made the man realise some of the things in life he had pushed aside. All of those things he craved… loved.

A small ripple of chuckles and giggles echoed from the corner. A couple of glasses dotted around the table. John sat with a glass of brandy in one hand while Lestrade had the same in the opposite hand.

"Okay- you know the funny thing? He was bloody right- she was sleeping with the P.E teacher and that wasn't the worst of it, when she left- she took the bloody cat!" Greg suddenly laughed, getting the same reaction from John who patted the detective on the shoulder, shaking his head.

"Least you don't worry about the catty remarks- and your cat!"

Another roar of laughter echoed from the corner as the two slightly drunk companions finally decided to take their conversation outside of the pub. The sky was thick with black clouds, gently illuminated by London's street lights.

Lestrade continued to chuckle away as he glanced to the man before him, finishing the giggle-fit they had got themselves into before smiling. "It was nice talking to you again John-"

But before their goodbyes could be said, the skies opened up. Rain slowly began to drizzle down upon them. The rain was first a small haze, a curtain of drizzle. Before it became worse. John blinked, placing the hood up of his parka before cursing at the harder downpour following.

The other glanced up and did the same, looking back to John with a sigh. "Want to stop by mine? It's just round the corner- you can stay the night if the rain doesn't let up- that is… if your boyfriend doesn't like it." He smirked, teasing the doctor with a smile.

John pouted, huffing as he stared at the other man. Dammit, that was pissing him off. With a drunken sulk the man stomped his foot and grumbled. "HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND! I can do anything I want without him, I'm a big boy now Mr Detective!" John slurred, pointing at Lestrade.

With a triumphant grin Lestrade chuckled and waved his hand as the rain continued to pour. "Come on then, follow me~" He cooed, walking towards his home in hopes the man would follow. And that was exactly what happened. It was almost expected from a man like John.

It wasn't his fault. He was a soldier. Used to following and taking orders. It just depended on who was giving the orders.

The two eventually ended up walking home. Back to Lestrade's home which (of course) didn't seem far, just like he said at the pub.

Lestrade's home was a terraced house on the outskirts of the city. It was obviously paid by the wage Greg's wife and his own salary could afford. It was rather decent. The man lead John up the stairs and through the hallway. Already the house was screaming of what womanly influence was once there… Everything matched in a red and black combo- the wallpaper matching the odd décor which was scattered so precisely on the furniture. Pictures have been removed, clearly from the dust marks.

There was the awkward silence as the two men walked into the warm home. There was warmth in the room where the heating turned on at a daily basis. With a small wave of the hand, Lestrade waved his companion into the living room where a black leather sofa sat in front of a fire while the room was decorated with some rather wonderful looking photos and personal belongings.

"Make yourself comfortable." Greg called out, walking through one space and into the kitchen in the other room. "Do you like wine?"

"I thought people had coffee when they found themselves going home with another person?" John joked as he slipped off his parka, shrugging it off his own shoulders while draping it over a chair next to the burning wood. "Yes, thank you." He soon continued, even removing his damp shoes. The rain truly was powerful. Slowly, he sat back down and placed his hands on his knees, looking around with the same straight posture he was known for.

He was already beginning to sober from the giggling mess he was before. Yes, there was still alcohol coursing through his brain, but at least he wasn't slurring his words. The man's mind was wandering, unable to focus as he stared warily into the fire place.

Eventually the sound of clinking glasses caught his attention, his deep grey eyes staring up the empty glass passed to him and the wine which was poured. Greg had removed his blazer, tie and shoes, looking a little more comfortable then he usually was. The red liquid tumbled into the glass and was filled half way before Lestrade did the same for himself. The glass was then placed down and he then joined the other.

A small sigh of relief peeped through his lips as he took one gulp and then stretched out his legs. "Much better, don't you think?" He asked with a warm smile, looking at the other.

John merely blinked and took a sip himself, sitting back.

"Yeah. Your house is nice. Loving the colours." John pointed out, trying to make some sort of conversations.

Greg shrugged his shoulder with an uncertain crooked smile. There was a painful feeling that he couldn't express. It was awkward and it was uncertain, both about talking about his wife and his current state of mind. "Thanks. It was all the ex-wife's doing with the odd input about DVD's and music." He chuckled. "But I'm glad she's gone actually… It was a painful few weeks. Your friend was right, especially with the P.E teacher. Maybe she just liked men in tight shorts shouting at kids rather than a man with a badge."

"She's missing out on a good guy."

"Really?" Greg asked, eyes looking up from his wine glass. It seemed a slight look of happiness flickered over his face.

With a small smile, John gave a nod. "Of course. You're funny, sure you can bore someone to death with your stories about Anderson but you're a decent bloke. Much more decent then any P.E teacher."

"Thanks John. What about you? What about your love life? No one in mind since Sarah?" Lestrade asked curiously as he swirled the red wine and glanced over to the military man.

A look of uncertainty appeared on John's face, especially as he twirled the glass between his thumb and forefinger. "Not with a flat mate and life like mine. It's worse than actually being back in the army. Seems no one wants to be around a sociopath and his doctor." John spoke with a shrug of his shoulders and an exasperated chuckle.

"And here you are trying to make me think I'm a good guy. Have you looked at yourself lately? You're a war hero, you've saved hundreds of lives, you've helped catch deadly criminals and you're a doctor. I'm sure women must love the idea of a crime fighting ex-military man who works as a doctor by day and wears adorable jumpers-" Immediately Lestrade's lips fell closed, silence hitting him immediately.

John didn't realise it, until his eyes suddenly looked up- realization hitting him suddenly. He blinked, bringing his head up as he subconsciously grabbed and groped at the hem of his striped jumper. Warmth trickled over his cheeks as he sat quietly.

Adorable…?

"You think my jumpers are adorable?"

"Well…"

"Do you like me?" John asked, plain and simple. There would be no other way to say it. "If you like guys then- that's okay, I just… was wondering if…" He asked, unsure what to say as he furrowed his brow and raised his eyes towards the slightly flustered detective. Greg was unsure what to say, staring into his wine. If he was sober he would have probably huffed out his chest and placed on that 'tough man' that he tried to do. But there was nothing. He seemed to be… contemplating. "Greg?"

"And what if I said yeah?"

"…" The man turned silent. He stared for a moment, taking a small gulp before clearing his throat. Well... what could he say? It wasn't something he hadn't thought of. It was something he thought about when he was with Sherlock.

It just seemed strange.

But Lestrade- Greg? And the whole being men thing… that was strange.

"Haven't you ever been curious?" Greg suddenly asked, licking a small drop of wine from his lips. Slowly he turned himself to the shocked military man. He just sat there, unsure what to say, taking a brief bite of his bottom lip and soon found himself frozen.

"Maybe- I just never thought about… well…"

Before he could continue, the detective took a deep breath and took in all the courage that he needed.

Greg came forward, lips brushing over John's. The doctor stiffened. Greg pressed forward and kissed him deeply. Both of them seemed stunned. Not for a second did they move away, John sat there and stared. Well, this was escalating into something into much more than a simple night out… However he didn't move when he was left to stand there. It felt strange really- he never had a kiss from another man. He had thought about it- a few times. Especially in the army.

But this… it was- well. More than he thought.

Lestrade's lips quivered gently before opening a little more, a curious tongue gently pressing into John's tightly closed lips. As the kiss continued, the doctor felt his head waver- was it the alcohol? Was it curiosity? Or was it just shock?

Who would think Lestrade was gay? Or at least curious. And what was worst of it all he was interested in John! Which was more of a surprise to him than anyone else.

"Mmn." John shuddered and leaned back, feeling the sofa arm on his lower back. The small gasp gave Greg the chance to explore the man's mouth further. With an extra boost of confidence, he pressed forward, kissing Watson with a little more passion and curiosity. John shuddered.

It felt as though he was getting intoxicated by those lips; there was a mixture of bitter alcohol and the depth of tobacco. It became apparent that Greg had taken on smoking since his divorce. John placed his palms on the other's chest, his fingers fanning across the white shirt and gave a gentle push. Eventually their lips separated and gave the man a small moment to breath- yet that moment didn't last long as the detectives' thirsty lips came forward once more .

Another groan rumbled from John's throat. They continued to kiss for moments until Lestrade pulled away.

His breath fogged over John's lips as he stared deep into the uncertain orbs looking back at him dazed. Greg stared, drunk with lust.

The man was quick to get to his feet and grabbed John's hand, pulling the shorter of the two onto his feet and proceeded to lead him through his house. There wasn't anything John could do- in his mind he was trying to figure why he didn't just stop and leave. Dammit, this wasn't good.

The two continued to walk through the home, moving up the stairs, passing old rooms and disappearing into a beautifully decorated bedroom. The feminine touch of matching bedsheets and neat room had yet to be dishevelled by Lestrade's lack of focus on such details. Of course the mess had begun with some strewn clothes on the floor and the odd discarded possession.

However it wasn't a time for observations, not when the doctor found himself pushed back onto a large double bed and being pinned by a simple Scotland Yard detective.

"Greg-" John suddenly spoke up, trying to sit up as the other was just that bit heavier to keep him down. "I- I don't know how much we've had but we can't-"

"Why?" The man simply asked, raising a brow. "Because your boyfriend will be mad?"

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Then why shouldn't we? You haven't pushed me away- and I certainly seen you bring bigger guys then me down to size without breaking a sweat. If you didn't want to then why don't you stop me now?"

"…" Oh God… that was a point… Why didn't he stop him? It's been a god damn while since he's been able to have any sort of relief- Greg was there, he wasn't really one for relationships. Least it was some stranger then if Sherlock did find out it wouldn't be so painful. There was still something that was riddling him with judgement. Should he? Shouldn't he? He and Lestrade were pretty good friends, couldn't this ruin it? And yet, Greg was pretty eager and John felt sympathy for him… Maybe they would forget about it in the morning?

They could laugh about it later…

With a small frown, John cleared his throat and was about to reply before Lestrade came down once more. He kissed him warmly. It was apparent that John had made up his mind and Greg couldn't wait any longer.

It didn't take long before the first layer was removed.

The jumper was thrown to the floor, the doctor's shirt undone and opened wide. Lestrade softly pecked his lips down the thick neck, lingering now and then to leave the odd mark. John merely laid there and felt his body quiver.

Every peck of those lips sent shivers down his spine. Even in the alcoholic fuelled state, Greg continued to show some focused gentility behind his actions. It was strange, less frightening then Watson first thought. A small sound peeped from his lips as soon as the warm, thin lips brushed over one of his nipples. His cheeks grew warm as Lestrade's decent down his body continued.

The detective's rough hands smoothed over John's hips. His fingers brushed down every curve, his eyes lapping up every detail and his tasting every inch. It seemed the alcohol was slowly dispersing in his system but was now becoming drunk with emotion. This was better than he thought, John was sweeter then he imagined and the very moment was more powerful than he could possibly think. He feared he was going to get addicted to this… and so merely continued his pursuit in order not to let this moment go.

Seconds later there were trousers thrown everywhere- Lestrade's had been dropped to the floor while John's had been eagerly tossed over a poor chair. There was only John's underwear left to tackle. However it was far too interesting to watch his drinking partner squirm and shudder.

Currently, the detective had his fingers trailing over the bulge in the doctor's underwear. John bit his bottom lip, his erection had already become strong ever since Lestrade's sexual advances. Slight moans were lingering from Watson's lips, only to grow slightly louder as soon as the long fingers curled around his cock. The warm skin on skin sent a hot spark shooting up his spine.

The man's body arched, John gasped and Lestrade merely smiled.

It was getting more and more difficult to control himself.

Without much more need for teasing, Lestrade knew himself that it was becoming painful to wait anymore. He was beginning to grow worried he would pass out from their own drinking or John would change his mind- it was now or never and his own erection was straining in the black briefs.

He was quick to sit on his knees and grabbed a small bottle of lube from his top draw. He poured a generous amount into his palm before pulling down his own underwear. John couldn't help but feel nerves linger in his chest and throat. Greg was going to do it- he was actually going to do it.

"Ah-" John gave another surprised gasp as the same slick hand slid between his legs and rubbed the slick lubricant over his hole. The doctor blushed, nay, his cheeks and neck flustered in embarrassment and nerves. He bit his bottom lip hard and grunted as the first finger was pushed in. John wasn't sure how to react, his lips merely opened and sounds of confused pleasure soon trickled out.

A second finger was soon added and John was laid back on the bed with his hands grasping the poor bed sheets. The fabric suffocated under his grip. He continued to squirm and moan, panting gently before Lestrade twisted his fingers and brushed against the untouched spot deep within. "Gah!"

A smile curled on Greg's face which gave him enough notice to know John was ready.

Quietly he positioned himself between the other's thighs…

"John… I can't wait anymore…" He muttered, rubbing his cock softly against the others prepared entrance.

John merely laid there, watching the other with a nervous shimmer in his eyes. He himself wasn't sure what to say, yet the current moment in time seemed to be passing him by without much of his choice. Without an answer, Greg pushed on anyway and began to press his hips forward.

A small grunt was all John could manage as he felt the other man slowly begin to enter him. The ex-soldier shivered and whined softly.

His body stiffened while a breathless tone struggled from John's throat. "G-Greg-"

A small incoherent mumble echoed from beneath the dishevelled sheets. The scent of musk lingered in the air with the hint of tobacco. The remains of a cigarette butt lingered in the cigarette tray on the bed while the morning rays crawled through the small space between curtains.

It was early in the morning and the only person awake in Lestrade's home was Greg, he was sat up, feeling a little more refreshed after finishing having a smoke while his eyes lingered on the sleeping doctor beside him. John looked so peaceful- so quiet and calm. Was this the only time he had slept so well? Usually he would find him looking tired at crime scenes… was It because of Sherlock?

Greg took in a small breath of air and was about to move until the other shifted in his sleep. John rolled onto his side and buried his face in Greg's side. It appeared he was dreaming about something- or at least thinking about something.

The man shivered and nuzzled in close only to mumble the one thing Lestrade wouldn't think to hear from those dreamy lips:

"Mnn… Greg…" Came a tired sigh.

Lestrade was certainly taken but- but flattered! To think, John was actually thinking about him in his sleep! It brought a warm smile to his lips. Slowly he raised a caring hand and began to gently stroke through the short acorn hair.

After a few more moment of peace, John began to stir. His nose softly rubbed over the skin on Lestrade's thigh and took in the deep scent. His eyes tiredly opened and he peered upwards dreamily to the detective beside him. Slowly things began to register- a small blush bloomed over his cheeks and a slight bashfulness appeared over his expression.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Greg chuckled quietly. John cleared his throat and rubbed his eye, pushing himself up so he leant on an elbow.

"Mmm… Mornin'." He muttered tiredly.

"Good sleep?"

John just nodded in reply and laid back down. All the other man did was smile and run his fingers through the man's hair once more. The doctor laid there while he tried to consider his next move. He was at a loss… he never thought he would wake up in Lestrades' bed…

Awkward.

That was what he would consider this moment. It was different, that was for sure. Surreal.

All John managed from his aching mind was what was going on- and what had happened. They did it- he and Greg actually did it…. And what was weirder, it was amazing.

"Got work today?" Greg spoke, peering to the weary doctor.

John merely shook his head like before.

"… Look- I know it sounds like a weird thing but- you wanna stay here? My phone hasn't gone off and I was wondering if you wanted breakfast… Unless you want to go, I don't mind. I'm sure you've got a lot to do."

With a small frown, John looked back to Lestrade. There was a mix of emotions running through him: shock, uncertainty and… happiness. As John's phone buzzed in his pocket, the doctor finally sat up, smiling to the other.

"… Sure… Why not?"