Title: Intimate Relations

Author: Sad Eyed Lady

Beta: fortheloveoftea(you can blame her)

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Sherlock and Intimate Relations

Pairing: Sherlock/Lestrade mentions of John/Lestrade

Status: Complete

Warnings: Slash and aural pornography

Spoilers: None really but... I have shamelessly stolen most of this scene and dialog from the Rupert Graves movie Intimate Relations which is where all this pure aural pornography comes from...

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock...unfortunately... or Lestrade... (also very unfortunate) and don't own Intimate Relations.

Summary: Sherlock keeps messing with Lestrade by trying to seduce him but Lestrade quickly turns the tables.

Before I start to anyone currently reading my fic Assumptions don't worry! The next chapter is currently in the process of being written so... this was just an idea that came to me due to the ever wonderful Rupert Graves... sighs

Greg Lestrade was woken up by elegant fingers rubbing against his cheek, as a deep sultry voice whispered in his ear. 'You need a shave.'

The early morning light streamed in through the open curtains, across Greg's face. The window had been left open, and it was obvious how the intruder had gotten in.

The man who was lying in the bed behind Greg wasn't there last night when he went to bed, nor was he welcome in the house without Gregs permission. However this didn't seem to deter him from the constant breaking and entering that he had been inclined to inflict on Lestrade on a near weekly basis.

'Do I.' Greg replied simply. It had been more of a statement than a question. He yawned loudly.

'John never has to shave. He has more... fluff... on his face.' The man continued to rub Greg's face lovingly, adding lowly. 'I like it. It's very masculine...'

Greg resolutely ignored this comment, for three reasons. One: it was too early in the morning to be dealing with Sherlock, and after the fiasco at the crime scene last night, all Greg wanted was a lie in. Two: That the voice was not of his boyfriend, John Watson, but of John's sociopathic (it didn't matter if he is high-functioning or not) house mate Sherlock. And finally, Three: He had a tendency to feel very uncomfortable when Sherlock talks about John when John isn't around.

However, Sherlock seemed ignorant to Greg's indifference and continued to caress his face, which caused Greg to abruptly jump out of the bed, wearing only his boxers. He grabbed his black denim jeans from the floor and pulled them on. He didn't need this. Sherlock had been messing with him for weeks now and it was beginning to get on his nerves.

Greg looked over his shoulder at Sherlock, who's eyes had not left him since he had gotten up out of bed.

'You are playing a dangerous game Sherlock.' He warned.

'You mustn't go around with a chip on your shoulder Greg...' Sherlock spoke as he sat up on the bed.

'Don't lecture me Sherlock.' Greg snapped as he finished fastening his buttons. 'I didn't ask you to come into my home, and lie in my bed... touching me. I can have a chip on my shoulder if I want to about all this.'

'I'm interested in you Greg.' Sherlock replied in defense of his behaviour, his eyes trailing down Gregs naked chest.

'Look Sherlock. I am not a game to be played between John and yourself. Stop trying to get me into bed. Stop messing around with me.'

'I'm not messing around! I like you! I really like you...' Sherlock whispered, his voice lowered darkly.

'You don't. You see me as a pawn, that I am someone you can use.'

Sherlock laughed at this. 'What are you going on about Greg?'

Greg lost all sense of control and jumped over Sherlock, grabbed him by the wrist and pinned him to the bed.

'LEAVE ME ALONE!' He shouted. 'You don't give a damn about me! You're just playing games. You just want a quick and easy fuck. I won't let you use me.'

Sherlock looked up in shock, however he quickly recovered and calmly spoke. 'I don't want to fuck you Greg, and your hurting me.'

Greg let go of Sherlock's wrists, but grabbed his shoulders instead. Sherlock took this moment to try and push him away from him.

A wicked glint came to Greg's eye. 'Alright,' he murmured, 'tell me you didn't think about me this morning, as you lay down beside me.'

'Greg, please...' Sherlock said in a patronising tone, but Greg had seen the flicker. The flicker of Sherlock's eyes, as they dilated in arousal. He let go completely and stood up. Sherlock sat up on opposite side of the bed. Greg circled the bed, like a shark.

'Tell me you didn't lie in bed and imagine me... pressing against you... naked.' he rasped.

Sherlock flinched and moved away from him further on the bed, but Greg just knelt behind him, pressing close to him and effectively trapping Sherlock between his knees.

'Even with your eyes closed you can still see me can't you?' he whispered dangerously as he moved his mouth closer to Sherlock.

'Every detail. You always remember the details Sherlock. The feel of my breath, hot against your cheek, the shape of my mouth, the smoothness of my skin...' he bent low to Sherlock's ear to continue.

'Imagine my skin rubbing against you, through your shirt... my hips against your hips.'

Sherlock shivered at the roughness to his voice as he continued his wicked words.

'My hands all over you. Everywhere.' he paused for a moment. 'Imagine... undressing you...'

'Greg...' Sherlock hissed out, the detective inspectors words shot straight to his cock and the heat rose up his chest and neck.

'You explore me now, with those... delicate hands. Those delicate, elegant hands. Touching every inch of me. You want me to push you down on the bed don't you?' Greg hissed.

A rough hand pulled at Sherlock's shoulder and lay him down on the bed, Greg following him, laying stretched out beside him. Sherlock moaned lightly and closed his eyes - from embarrassment or arousal he wasn't sure, all he knew was that he couldn't bare to look him in the eye.

'You want me to take all your clothes off...' the rough and raspy voice sent tremors throughout Sherlock's body.

'You want me to climb on to you...and in to you... deeply.' His voice is lowered now. It's husky and gentle. 'Deep inside of you...' He murmured against Sherlock's pale cheek, his lips a hair away from Sherlocks skin, and Sherlock want's so desperately for Greg to kiss him. Sherlock opens his eyes and turns his head slightly to look at Greg.

'It doesn't go away when you close your eyes does it?' Greg asked him, which caused Sherlock to look away in embarrassment.

'Look at me.' Greg whispered tenderly.

Sherlock looks and he immediately wished he didn't. Those dark eyes, those beautiful orbs. His breath hitches. He wants this so badly. Greg saw this. Greg saw the haze of lust as it descended across the face of the man beside him.

'You can still feel me... can't you Sherlock... Inside you...?' he murmured.

When Sherlock finally finds his voice, a desperate 'Yes, I feel you.' escaped his lips. His head angled toward Greg's.

'Sherlock...?' he murmured huskily, bringing his own thin lips closer to Sherlock's gaping mouth.

'Yes...?' He moaned, closing the gap just that bit more, his lips almost brushing the older mans lips.

'I hope you didn't forget to wash your hands after dealing with that body last night, eh?' Greg chirped rather happily as he sat up, leaving Sherlock shell shocked on the bed. Greg headed out to the bathroom and before closing the door, he turned back and leant in.

'Now you know what it feels like to have somebody messing with you!' before slamming the door behind him.

Authors Note: I did warn you... it is shamelessly stolen from the movie so if you watch it and its exactly the same you can't say i didn't warn you! Read and Review if you would be so kind...