Eighteen: The Source
Greg woke to sunlight beaming down on his skin through the thin curtains of his bedroom. And he was about to wake up happy that Mycroft was here, but then there was a whisper, and it was not the one he wanted. "Gregory," it giggled. Mycroft shot up from behind the DI.
"Gregory," Greg gave up on trying to get Mycroft to call him anything else, so he hummed and Mycroft continued, "That thing really is annoying," and Greg nodded.
"Yes, but we can't do anything about it," he huffed and rolled over to meet his lover's eyes. Mycroft looked down on him, and Greg knew that look.
Greg rolled his eyes and sat up to meet Mycroft's height, or try to. "Gregory," Mycroft said again. Greg leaned into his chest and hummed once more, "would you be comfortable bringing my brother into this?" it was the only reason he hadn't texted or called to give Sherlock the details.
Greg glanced up to his lover and sat up again, "Do you really think Sherlock can find out what the hell is going on?" he was truly curious. Sherlock's always has been able to solve these kinds of weird things.
"Not just Sherlock alone. But you get the whole family together, and perhaps," he shrugged and Greg rolled his eyes, placing his head against Mycroft's shoulder.
"You're not bringing that little girl into this," he mumbled.
"If the detective and the soldier are in it, so is the innocent girl. There's no stopping that, Gregory," he reasoned and Greg sighed.
"Fuck it, then," he agreed. But he wanted something else at this moment in time. He laid back down and pulled Mycroft down upon him. Their lips met and Greg exhaled in contentment….
Back to last night at Baker Street :P
"You promised," he whispered to John's neck and the blond shivered. "Don't break your promises, John," the brunette purred. Then he added, "Especially when they're so…" he kissed the skin under his lips, "…interesting…" he breathed.
John leaned into Sherlock, groaning as he was already half hard from that voice. Then again, the detective knew the soldier loved his voice, and he always used it to his advantage. "Sherlock," John growled as he turned to face the idiot.
"Come now, you promised," he stressed and John placed his lips to Sherlock's so he would just shut up. Though, at this moment in time, John loved any noise he could get to come from Sherlock. Sherlock kissed back as John pushed him to the opposite wall of the hall. "As much as I love the idea of sex in the hallway, Aveen is sleeping right there," he pointed lazily over John's shoulder.
Sherlock's forearms landed on John's shoulders, but quickly tightened around his neck as John easily picked him up off his feet. Sherlock wrapped himself around John in this alarming move, and loved every second of it at the same time.
John deliberately grabbed at Sherlock's ass while he took the man down the stairs and past the kitchen back to their room. And while he did this, he was kissing up and down Sherlock's neck and part of his shoulder. He could feel Sherlock blushing through his trousers.
John slammed the door shut with Sherlock's slim figure and he dropped his feet to the floor as his fingers were tangled in John's hair. John kept kissing down and when it was blocked by a shirt, he started unbuttoning said shirt.
His eyes glazed over the scar on Sherlock's shoulder and the many other little ones. He kissed each one, and he found a new spot on Sherlock that made him writhe and moan John's name like a prayer. A prayer saying, 'Please don't stop'. And he didn't as he got lower.
The shirt slipped from Sherlock's shoulders and onto the floor with John's knees. He grabbed Sherlock's hips and unbuttoned his trousers with his teeth. It was an act that made Sherlock wonder why he'd never done it before. He was good at it, too, as the trousers dropped and he gave teasing kisses to Sherlock's hips.
"Mmmm," they both hummed, both in satisfaction, but one wanting more than this. John's grip became slightly harder as he slipped Sherlock's pants from those pale and perfect hips. And even in these actions, John was dominant as he breathed on Sherlock's groin.
His fingers made shapes upon Sherlock's thighs briefly before they reached behind and grabbed Sherlock's arse and brought him closer. But he didn't press his lips to Sherlock's cock, no, Sherlock's member was simply pressed to his mouth. He did nothing intentionally as Sherlock grabbed at his shoulders.
He did eventually do something when his tongue parted his thin lips and pressed hotly to Sherlock's head. He licked over the slit and down Sherlock's shaft all the way to the hilt where he nipped at it. Sherlock groaned at his teasing as that tongue slicked back up and his teeth grazed over the slit once more.
That was when his pants dropped to his ankles and John stood. Sherlock stepped out of his clothes and landed on top of John on the bed and he proceeded to undress his lover and John pressed kisses and his tongue to Sherlock's neck and shoulder. "If that's your attempt at dis-" and he moaned when John grabbed his cock in hand.
"Quiet," John warned as Sherlock continued, pulling off John's shirt and then his trousers. They scattered over the floor as John's pants joined it all. Sherlock ground his hips to John's, rubbing their groins to one another. They both moaned and John's pelvis lifted from the bed, bringing them together again.
His fingers gripped Sherlock's hips as he couldn't stop the friction. He loved it so much more than Sherlock will ever know. It was a bit weird at first, yeah. But now he couldn't go without it. He also couldn't go without the want he had right about now.
Sherlock could tell that he was to be under John's rule, again. But as a ruler, this rule will be bent…
"S is for the simple need, E is for the ecstasy, X is just to mark the spot, 'cause that's the one you really want!" The flat was filled with this atrocity as Mary walked into the kitchen and Ivan was in Eve's arms as she 'danced' with him.
"There's something really wrong with this picture," Mary laughed as she slipped her coat from her shoulders and draped it over the chair.
But Eve simply sang, "Sex is always the answer, it doesn't matter the question, 'cause the answer's yes…" and Mary rolled her eyes. Then she proceeded to take Ivan from Eve's arms as she danced around the kitchen alone, and now making tea, apparently.
Though Mary was annoyed by the lyrics, the way Eve was moving was very interesting as she couldn't stop staring. But that song was over and it was changed to something even more stupid. "Sexin' on the dance floor… getting' hot, hot, sexin' on the dance floor…" Mary rolled her eyes again as Eve just kept going round and round in the kitchen, and somehow still accomplishing her task.
Mary gave a loving look to her baby and wondered if he could understand what was in the lyrics. But that didn't matter anymore as Eve settled and turned to the song on her phone to a softer one, instead of 'club bullshit', as Mary liked to call it.
"Hey, listen to this, you might like it," she suggested as something came over Eve's phone's speakers that Mary had never heard before. It was a strange beat as she perked up her ears.
"What is that?" she stood, rocking Ivan in her arms slightly as she looked at the screen of the IPhone. It was this weird band with the name of 'All Time Low' and Mary was intrigued. "It sounds like something for teenagers," she complained as she sat down once again.
"Sh, just listen with me," she dropped the phone to the table as she grabbed Mary's hand. "… There's room for two, six feet under the stars…" Mary shrugged as Eve was humming along. "Mary," she smirked, "will you join me six feet under the stars?" and Mary laughed.
"This is more tolerable than your other stuff," she admitted.
"Oh, come on, you know you like it," Eve grinned and Mary shrugged again. Ivan giggled as he gripped at Mary's blouse. It was a fuchsia like color, but a bit darker and he grabbed it with both hands. He pulled at her collar before he pulled at the buttons.
"Looks like he'll be a ladies' man," Eve joked as one of the buttons came undone. Mary waved his hands away and buttoned it again as he giggled. "Anyway, what do you say, dinner and then bed? The three of us?" she suggested.
"Sounds lovely," Mary agreed. Eve smiled as she let the song fade and flip to something else. Mary had to say, it was a little enjoyable, and Ivan seemed to like it, as he wasn't crying…
This moment was completely full of heat, and John was panting as Sherlock kept grinding against him. But Sherlock didn't stay on top as his legs were wrapped around John's waist and his back hit the covers. He smirked and John rubbed them together one last time.
That last time was all he got before John slipped to where Sherlock's thighs were on his shoulders and his tongue was on Sherlock's member again. Sherlock moaned as John took half of him in his mouth. "John… mmm, more," he hummed.
John bit down briefly before returning to the original position he had taken and kissing Sherlock senseless as he finally reached over to dig around in the drawer of the night stand. Sherlock grinned through the kisses as the cap popped open and John only needed one hand to get his fingers wet.
It was a huge turn on and Sherlock was almost dripping before John actually got to teasing his entrance. Sherlock gripped John's shoulder and John's hip, where his hands had landed and held tight as John slipped in two digits.
He expertly found that bundle of nerves and Sherlock gasped which led to a moan and John's name being put to his lips and breath. John loved the sound of that and he curled his fingers once more to get that reaction. Sure enough, he got it again, with a louder moan. He smirked as his fingers scissored and he pulled them out agonizingly slow.
Sherlock writhed and wriggled in anticipation with what John was obviously going for. But Sherlock had his own ideas once John was settled inside him. John spread Sherlock's knees across his legs as well as his own knees on the bed as he slipped slowly in.
Sherlock groaned as his arms wrapped around John's neck. He brought John to a heated kiss and John's hips moved slowly and teasingly as Sherlock's tongue slipped through his teeth. Sherlock's fangs had taken longer to come out this time, but they were like that lately, what with them doing this every other fucking night. But neither was complaining as the sensation that always took place never faded.
Even now, Sherlock had to fight off the urge to bite, because John was just being so delicious. But he soon gave up. Although, not before he brought his fingers to his lips and John was confused a bit. But then he realized what Sherlock was doing, and he wondered how that would feel.
So he let Sherlock's fingertips tease his own entrance and his knees spread wider as his thrusts were a little faster. He tried to get Sherlock's fingers deeper, but he wanted to be deeper in Sherlock himself. It was confusing, but he finally found a good rhythm that didn't interrupt either action.
Sherlock was pleased with this and his digits were thrust all the way and his finger's tips brushed over John's sweet spot and his teeth traced the most prominent vein in John's lovely neck. John moaned and almost screamed as Sherlock's name was said as another sings an anthem.
The teeth and the fingers and the tight feeling was all too much yet not enough, as Sherlock swallowed and felt every movement, every sensation, every fervour kiss… This wasn't new to either of them, but as Sherlock lapped up the blood, it felt so much better than anything else. The wound was disappearing and that cute pink trying to help as well, as Sherlock's fingers curled.
They hit John's prostate several times and the jerking of his hips with each stroked left Sherlock a moaning mess. Both of them chanted each other's name and some other very dirty but somehow loving things. And when John's thrusts got faster, harder, Sherlock's fingers twisted again, and he was panting as Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. John needed to touch him, more.
He grabbed the blond's hand and both of their hands curled into a fist around the brunette's cock and John realized as Sherlock's movements mirrored his own. Sherlock was right, that was all he needed before he was over the edge and coming in John's hand.
John, upon hearing this and feeling that tight clenching around the base of his cock, was riding through a powerful orgasm as names were screamed and John collapsed. His knees couldn't hold him anymore and his arms were dead as he laid panting on Sherlock's chest.
Sherlock chuckled, "No matter what, I always leave you like that," he rubbed his hand over John's back and John shivered as he managed to pull himself off and out of Sherlock.
"Sorry," he breathed and tucked his head under Sherlock's chin, kissing the underside of his jaw.
"Don't be. I think it's adorable and sexy," he admitted. John had never heard those two words in the same sentence, and coming out of Sherlock's mouth. He smirked as he somehow found the energy to lift himself and give Sherlock a furtive and fervour kiss.
"I love you," he breathed as he settled again.
"I love you more."
"I love you most…"
Gregory huffed as Mycroft's lips left his. "Gregory, we have to get up."
Greg growled and pushed Mycroft to the sheets, "No," and he placed his lips to Mycroft's neck and soon his teeth joined.
"Gregory," Mycroft warned. This time Greg just whined something and it sounded like a complaint. Mycroft chuckled and pulled the silver haired man from his body to sit up.
"Why do I have to leave my comfort zone?" he rubbed his eyes and sat up to meet Mycroft. "I'm here, remember. I doubt you're comfortable with me around," it whispered in his ear. He shivered as Mycroft wasn't surprised when he jumped from the sheets. "Yup, let's go," he dressed again and Mycroft did join him, dressing as well.
But before he slid his phone in his pocket, he texted Sherlock, saying he was coming over because he wanted more information about this creature he thinks might be the one. Then he called a car of his own, because he is not using a cab. They always smell weird…
Sherlock was already awake, staring down on his lover's sleeping face. He smiled as his fingers traced down John's middle and back up to his lips. His fingertips danced over the blond's lips and he smiled wider when John hummed.
But a little *ding* ruined everything. John's eyes fluttered open as Sherlock regrettably rose from the bed and walked to pick up his discarded trousers. He dug through his pocket and pulled out his now lit up screen. He needs to charge this thing.
But he had a text from his brother, telling him he was coming over to discuss certain issues. No doubt, he was bringing Lestrade as well, as this problem obviously has something to do with him, too. John sat up and asked what was going on. "Mycroft's visiting," he snorted at that word his brother had used.
"So we should get up?" John asked and already he didn't like it.
"I already am, it's you that has to get up. Although, I don't think my brother would like to see us naked, so get dressed," John rolled his eyes at the obvious being stated, but he did stand up. Sherlock stared. John looked about the room and sighed as he could feel Sherlock's eyes on him.
Particularly his body, but still. Sherlock eyed every inch of John. His shoulders and the way he never fixed his small posture problem, the way his hips somehow stood out with the smallest of curves from his abdomen and how he was so skinny yet had muscle. And let's not forget being well-endowed. Sherlock smirked as he turned round again and looked to the mess they made last night.
John cleared this mess after he was dressed and Sherlock was in the kitchen with Aveen. Aveen was eating cereal, like always. John wanted to make her eat something else, but she would probably refuse. The soldier's feet hit the tile in the kitchen as Mycroft walked through the door. It was perfect timing.
But he didn't care if anyone heard, "You could at least help clean up our mess, Sherlock," and he sat in the third chair. Mycroft walked in, not questioning, as Greg walked in behind him.
That voice was whispering to Gregory things he didn't feel like hearing, and he was getting annoyed. Sherlock read this and looked to Mycroft, who seemed a little irritated as well. But as his weight shifted to the handle of the umbrella, he asked, "Tell me what you found on the creature."
"Oh, that yes," Sherlock closed his eyes briefly before opening them to a waiting Mycroft and a getting redder in the face, Lestrade. "It was one that deceived people into thinking it was a ghost, but in reality it's just a branch off of shape shifters, because it shifts to match its surroundings. It's very clever and when it's in that form you can't hear anything of its voice but a 'genderless' whisper. Sound like the one you're looking for?" he asked as his thumb rubbed across John's, as he had taken John's hand in his own.
Greg nodded, "That actually sounds right, how would you know?" he asked. Sherlock waved his hand about and was to explain how.
But Aveen stepped in, "We read books, and it was fun," she smiled and Greg rolled his eyes, Sherlock never ceased to amaze him with how normal he was sometimes. "Plus," she added, "we know more about the paranormal than you ever will," she smirked as he was completely confused.
But all the confusion faded as a woman materialized behind them, "Hello, Gregory," she giggled and placed a hand to his shoulder. He jumped at least a few inches in the air before he grabbed at Mycroft's arm and squeezed.
But he took a good look, "Morgan?" he recognized this annoyance.
"Hi," he let go of his lover's arm and she waved a little. Her brilliant grey eyes looked to the rest of the men and the one child in the kitchen. John observed her and her hair was a bit frizzy as it was cut short and fluffy brown. Sherlock gave her a studious look as she stared at him back. "The Holmes brothers get settled, then? Interesting," she smiled and Greg glared at her.
Mycroft studied her as well, and he looked to his brother. They both rolled their eyes and John was confused, as he had no idea what that look meant. He never did. But Sherlock gave him a look that said, 'deduce what I have'. He tried, but he couldn't see what was so special about her.
I mean, yeah, she can turn basically invisible and she's been stalking the shit out of Gregory and Mycroft, but what was so different? Aveen looked closer and she could see what Sherlock was seeing and only just then, with Aveen, did John realize what they were getting at.
Miranda looked homeless. They all knew she wasn't, but the way she dressed suggested otherwise: baggy jeans, sneakers, tank top covered by a simple grey hoodie and that was why her hair was a bit frazzled. John nodded and Greg was completely lost.
But once Sherlock asked, he could see it. "Been communicating with the homeless network, have we?" he seemed pleased somehow. John was confused as to why Sherlock was enjoying this as he rose from his chair and walked circles around her. She rolled her eyes and looked over the little girl that had caught her attention.
Aveen grinned as she knew what was catching her attention. Aveen had been practicing, and she thinks she finally has it down. And she flicked her fingers to Mycroft's umbrella. Sherlock saw that, and the umbrella slipped from his hand and he almost fell over.
He picked it up from the floor and studied what could have made it slip like that. It never slips. John watched as Aveen turned back around to her milk and simply acted like nothing happened. But John said nothing as Greg did ask, "You never slip, what happened?" he touched Mycroft's shoulder.
Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but it seemed as though he didn't know, and he hated admitting that he didn't know something. So instead he settled on, "I'm not sure," and Sherlock chuckled.
They all looked to him expecting an explanation for the umbrella, or simply why he felt the need to laugh."John, dear, you did see what I saw, correct?" and John smiled, nodding. "Everyone else, do try to keep up," he warned and continued. "He didn't slip, Lestrade. But you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. Though, I'm going to tell you anyway," he smiled.
"Get on with it, you git," Greg demanded.
"Right, it was Aveen," and John caught the blush that built up on her face. John grinned lightly as Sherlock continued. "It seems as though she's been practicing, when I have no idea, but do it again," he ordered her. Well, she had just finished her milk, so…
Her fingers danced in the air as her bowl, and the spoon floated into the sink. John leaned back a bit as they slammed to the bottom of the metal, "Fantastic!" and her blush grew deeper. Sherlock nodded once, as in, 'Kudos'.
John was used to this family's 'problems' by now, but Mycroft and Gregory were not, and the random 'Miranda' character wasn't too used to this type of magic. Sherlock simply shook it off as Miranda's eyes widened and Greg's grip on Mycroft's shoulder became tighter as he wanted to run.
"What the hell was that?" and if everyone hadn't been being quiet they wouldn't have heard Greg say this.
Aveen grinned as she permitted Sherlock to tell everyone else, "Aveen isn't exactly completely human. She's a… what did you call yourself?" she knew he knew, but he was trying to include her, as she hadn't spoken since this situation got sticky.
"I am a Wicken, not a Witch, don't get them confused, because I will punch your gut out through your throat." She softened from the glare, "But yes, I practice magic, and it's quite fun making people 'trip'," she giggled and Sherlock rolled his eyes as John simply shook his head through the smile he had built up, and it wasn't fading.
Mycroft understood now, and shrugged as Greg let go if his shoulder. Greg looked to everyone in the room, and seriously contemplated running out the door. Sherlock grinned and Greg glared. "My family was killed by you retches," Miranda suddenly spat. Her fists were curled and her knuckles white as her anger burned through her body.
"I hardly think it's the child's fault that your family was murdered," Sherlock pointed out and she threw a glare at him that John did not want to be under. He even shivered just looking at it from there.
Aveen rolled her eyes, "I probably wasn't even born when your family died," she scoffed. Miranda quirked and angry brow at her and she smiled. "I'm only nine," she said innocently.
"Are we done here?" Sherlock complained, "Lestrade, just arrest her or something," he waved her off and walked back over to John and sat in his chair once again.
John sighed, "Just do as he says and leave our flat. It would be appreciated greatly," he explained and Aveen smiled again. Lestrade exhaled in frustration as he grabbed Miranda's arm, and too shocked to do anything, she let him drag her out the door and down the stairs. Mycroft followed as he held tighter to his umbrella.
Sherlock waved goodbye and Mycroft glared shortly before walking down the stairs. The door closed and suddenly they all looked to each other and burst out laughing…
Yeah, I think I'm going to end it soon, I don't know. But, Reviews? Before I finish the last few chapters?