John and Greg lay on either side of Sherlock in the large bed that they shared at 221B. John stroked Sherlock's curls and teased his fingers through them to massage his scalp. On the other side, Greg massaged Sherlock's hands, switching from one to the other and giving each finger loving attention. It was the best way to get Sherlock to finally relax after a long and grueling case.
When Sherlock finally drifted off to sleep, still fully dressed, John and Greg climbed quietly from the bed. Working together, they got their partner's shoes off of him, then covered him with a blanket. Together, they tiptoed from the room. John, the last to exit, shut the door silently behind him.
Completely exhausted, but not yet ready for sleep, Greg had already got two beers from the fridge and opened them. He handed one to John, then they both went into the living room and collapsed on the sofa.
"He looks angelic when he sleeps," John noted, a tired smile on his face.
Lestrade took a pull on his beer, then nodded. "Amazing, considering what a wanker he can be."
"Yeah, but he's our wanker." John kicked off his shoes and propped his feet on the coffee table.
Not having done so before, Lestrade removed his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. When he dropped his hand, it landed on John's thigh. They sat like that for several minutes, drinking their beers and not bothering to turn on the telly.
Eventually, John leant against Greg, resting his head on Greg's shoulder. It felt comfortable resting it there.
Greg looked down at John, then kissed the side of his head. When John turned his face up towards him, Greg dipped down and pressed their lips together.
The kiss, sweet and unhurried, blossomed slowly, John's lips parting to grant Greg entrance. The rough feel of stubble and the taste of beer was perfect.
Sometime during the kiss, they turned to face each other. John's hand found the back of Greg's neck and his fingers splayed there. Greg's hands found their way beneath John's jumper and explored the expanse of his back.
They kissed and kissed, unhurried. The act of kissing in and of itself enough to satisfy.
John broke away, breathless and feeling lightheaded. It had been far too long since he had slept or had anything to eat. "I'll call for takeaway. Do you want your usual?"
"Curry, yeah. And those tiny spring rolls from that place Sherlock likes," Greg agreed, stretching lazily. He felt aroused, but was too knackered to do anything about it.
After John had placed the order, he straddled Greg's lap and kissed him once again. He slid his lips to the side, along Greg's jawline, and finally nipped at his earlobe. Greg turned his head and recaptured John's lips. They kissed long and slow. John tugged Greg's shirt and vest out of his trousers and rested his hands on his sides. At the same time, Greg cupped John's face. They kissed and nipped at one another, sometimes coming up for air and resting their foreheads against one another.
After several minutes, their food arrived. John sighed. "Bollocks. I'd best get that before Mrs. Hudson wakes up." He jogged downstairs and fetched their order, then came back up.
Sitting next to each other, they ate. Greg finished first. By the time John was done, Greg slipped sideways, falling against John, asleep.
John chuckled. It was tempting to just sleep there on the sofa, but he knew they would both regret it in the morning. "Wake up, Greg. It's time for bed."
"Don't wanna."
"Now you sound like Sherlock. Come on. Up." John pulled Greg to his feet and they made their way to the bedroom.
John got in on one side and Greg on the other. They cuddled up with Sherlock. Later there would be time for celebrating a case well resolved. There would be time for more than simple cuddles. For now, this was enough.