Night One, Or 'Sherlock, Please Never Procreate.'
A/N: This is set before Sherlock meets John, because S/J is my OTP, but if I pretend John doesn't exist then it's all good. Also, I kind of see 'Lestrade' as his first name, so I use it as much as I'd use 'Sherlock'.
Sherlock/Lestrade
NC-17
Even though Lestrade had woken up only hours ago, his exhausted body decided it was beddy time. He raided the bedside table on his side – what! He, Lestrade, did not have a side, and certainly not in a bed he was forced to share with Sherlock Holmes – to see what treasures he could find. Toothbrush, toothpaste, underwear (oh good), a bible, a Koran, a USB, a water bottle, a belt, a chessboard, condoms and lubricant, a camera, a flashlight, a notepad, three different colour pencils, five Jack Collins books and rose petals. How… unusual.
Lestrade changed into the pyjamas provided (silk, deep maroon) and brushed his teeth, discovering alcohol wash, a pack of four-blade razor's, cough medicine and a month's supply of the pill along the way.
As he strode out to the tiny living room to grab a drink of milk he saw Sherlock sitting in the armchair, staring at the floor with his hands in prayer position. He looked up at Lestrade as he walked in and sat down.
"Sherlock," Lestrade began, and Sherlock began staring intently, and he decided not to say what he was going to say. "Next time you speak to Mycroft, can you ask him to call Tamara and tell her I won't be able to take Kate this weekend, then?"
Sherlock looked at him in confusion briefly before realisation struck and he nodded. Just as Lestrade was pushing himself off the couch, Sherlock said, "I would like some children."
Lestrade, struck dumb, fell back onto the couch.
"Really?" he exclaimed.
Sherlock nodded. "Because the clever ones I could teach deduction methods and the stupid ones would be brilliant for experiments!" He said with pure earnest.
Lestrade let out a loud 'Hah!" before letting head his head fall into his hands. "Sherlock, please never procreate."
Sherlock's face fell. "Why on earth not?"
"Because, Sherlock, I'm pretty sure experimenting on children breaks about three hundred laws, and the world really does not need more than one of you!"
However, Lestrade felt his point had not been made when Sherlock took that last part as a compliment.
"Well, I'm going to bed," Lestrade said some time later, after Sherlock had explained, in explicit detail, his latest experiment about quail urine and black and white photographs and Lestrade had attempted to explain the latest Doctor Who episode to him: "Once you turn away from them, you completely forget about them." "But how can anybody be so stupid?"
Sherlock nodded and stood up, "I think I might too."
Obviously it was too boring here for Sherlock to remain conscious. When he went to change into his pyjamas, Lestrade snuggled under the covers of the bed and turned out his light. Sherlock emerged with his wrists and ankles sticking out of his pyjamas and shuffled in next to him. Lestrade drifted off seconds later.
Sherlock's leg was between his thighs, thrusting up gently, rolling his sack over his thigh. Precome was leaking onto Lestrade's silk pyjamas and Sherlock's arms were around him, lying flush against his back. His erection was smooshed between them, but Sherlock didn't seem to mind, he was panting heavily into Lestrade's ear. He could feel Sherlock cold hands splayed on his hips and the dull thrust of Sherlock's hips. Pushing himself up on one elbow, Sherlock leaned over him and opened his mouth to speak. However, instead of hearing the customary 'I love you,' Lestrade found his face showered in quail urine.
Sherlock's leg was, indeed, between his thighs when Lestrade woke with a start, however there was no thrusting involved. Somehow, while sleeping, Sherlock had managed to wrap his arms around Lestrade and was now secreting (welcome) warmth on Lestrade back. Lestrade glanced at the digital clock (kitchen pantry, batteries in the office) and saw that it was only 2:45am. He snuggled back into Sherlock and fell back to sleep.