Just wanted to follow up the last chapter with a little somethin' somethin'

Sweet fluffiness for three.

Humiliation and Frustration II: Kisses or Punches?

John and Sherlock finished their tea in silence. Sherlock was positively smirking, but he was able to get a hold of himself sufficiently that he stopped actually giggling to himself, and John's color had returned to its usual British pallor. Sherlock set his cup down at length.

"Well. I have some reading I wanted to -."

"I'll clean this up," John offered, rising to pick up the tray, but Sherlock stopped him.

"I'd rather you just sat there for a while, John. Thank you. Here, let me just -" Sherlock said, directing the doctor back to his chair, then digging his fingers into his friend's shoulders.

"Ah, Sherlock, I'm not an invalid." But John let his head drop forward and allowed Sherlock to knead his shoulders.

"I can get the tray, hmm? I want you to just relax, all right? Just take it easy, and relax. Molly will be here in a couple hours, I'll ring and have her bring in some take-out, and we'll have an early night, shall we? Hmm? Nice and simple. Nothing fancy."

"I'm still going to punch you. Really, really hard. Maybe tomorrow."

"That's fine. You punch me tomorrow, that will be fine, I have nothing on tomorrow, so I'm all yours."

Sherlock finished rubbing down his friend, and removed the tea tray. When he returned to the sitting room, John had slouched down into the armchair and had his eyes closed, a hand to his brow. While the detective was fairly sure his friend wasn't asleep just yet, he returned to the kitchen to call Lestrade to avoid disturbing John. Sherlock got an update on the case. Things were at a standstill until some lab results were in. It wasn't a pressing matter, other than the fact of such a lovely young girl meeting such an untimely end, so Sherlock didn't hurry it along as he might have under different circumstances. He took the opportunity to immerse himself in a study of aphids he'd been wanting to get to for some time.

Molly came home some minutes before six with the take-out, and Sherlock met her on the stair while John continued to sleep, in his chair. Sherlock filled her in on what had happened that morning, including the dead girl. Sherlock watched as her eyes filled with horror, not for the fact that the young woman had looked like her, Sherlock knew, but in empathy for the poor girl. Molly, he knew was a sensible woman, and though quite emotional, she was a scientist who generally defied augury and relied on her senses and logic. He was glad he had the opportunity to tell her about the girl without John present, preferring to avoid a return to the events of the morning. Sherlock then quickly told her about how John, disoriented from his bit of shock, had waxed quite affectionately toward him, and tried to kiss him.

"And you didn't let him? Oh, you are so mean!" Molly laughed quietly as they went up the stairs together to the flat. Sherlock appreciated Molly's penchant for gentle mischief, and sometimes turned into quite the 13-year-old himself, when they were together.

"When will he be well out of danger? For the shock, I mean?"

"He's probably fine, now, but 12 to 24 hours is a good rule of thumb. He did pass out briefly, you know. Fell on some gravel."

"Oh my god. Is he hurt at all?"

"No, no, I promise you, though I didn't actually have a look at his knees. Some scrapes on the fabric, absolutely no trauma to the head. I'm sure he's fine. Just sleeping tonight, ok?"

"Of course." Molly agreed but then fake pouted, "I'll just have to wake you up all the earlier in the morning, darling." Molly gently gripped Sherlock's backside with her free hand.

"That's fine, love, wake me any time you like." Sherlock pecked her on the cheek and took the take-away bags off to the kitchen to serve up the food.

Molly approached John's chair, and dropped to her knees before him as the doctor shrugged off sleep, having been roused somewhat by the sounds of Molly and Sherlock entering the flat. His legs were spread wide, and she knelt up between them, digging down, to wrap her arms around his waist as he sat in the chair. He took her face in his hands, smiling a sleepy smile.

"My darling sweet love – well, you seem ok?" Molly purred, and John drew her to him, until she was sitting in his lap.

"I am, love, I'm fine." He kissed her thoroughly, his hand already under her blouse when Sherlock poked his head out of the kitchen door, smiling.

Early in the morning, Sherlock woke to go to the loo, and returned to find John and Molly in an amorous embrace. Ah, now maybe we can have some fun with the good doctor. He slipped back into bed with his friends. John was just entering Molly as she whimpered and cooed to him. She lay on her back, and their movements were easy and lazy as Sherlock pulled in close to the pair. He aligned his head with Molly's and gazed up, smiling at his friend, as the pair moved against and into one another. John was only peripherally aware of Sherlock at first, and then he saw the expression in Sherlock's eyes: mischief and smugness. He continued to move against Molly as Sherlock reached up to John's nipple, and thumbed, it, then pinched it.

"Ah, what are you up to?" John smiled at his friend.

"I think you know, love," Sherlock reached down, and gripped John's bottom, squeezing a little harder than necessary.

"Oh, right. Ahaha." John remembered Sherlock's avowal to find out if it was just the shock talking when John had tried to kiss him the day before.

"So? Only interested in kissing me when you're in shock?" Sherlock reached up, stroking John's cheek, and pressed his thumb into the doctor's mouth. John sucked it, biting gently.

"Hmm. Interesting, Doctor." Sherlock pushed his thumb further in, exploring the inside of John's mouth, his tongue, his teeth, while John laved the thumb with his tongue, sucking. "Lovely, John."

"Hmmph," John was about to reach a plateau, Sherlock saw. Would he kiss him on his own, he wondered? Sherlock didn't even consider forcing the matter.

"John, love?" Sherlock removed his thumb and offered his neck to John who leaned down without further prompting, and kissed, and bit the skin. Ah, good boy, very well trained. Sherlock's breath drew more quickly at the touch, but now John was getting very close. Sherlock looked over at Molly who was watching this little drama unfold, smiling with her lips parted and wet, an enchanting vision as John fucked her into the sheets. Sherlock leaned over to kiss her, throwing an arm around John's shoulders, rubbing him.

"Come on, John, now's your chance, hmm?" Sherlock pressed his face closer to his friend, brushing his lips against his cheek, his chin, nipping the skin.

"You know you want to, love, hmm? I know I want you to."

"Oh, god, Sherlock, ahaha, Molly, ah-," John was getting very close, but he was smiling and laughing, too, which was gratifying for Sherlock to watch in and of itself. But the detective was out of tricks. He sighed heavily and lay on his back with his head next to Molly's looking up into John's eyes. Sherlock was not able to hide a slight disappointment in his expression. He reached with his hand and ran his fingers through John's short hair as John and Molly came almost at the same time.

Sherlock was usually overcome by John's and Molly's lovemaking, and couldn't get close enough to them after they'd finished, touching them kissing them talking to them. But he felt a little differently, this time, a little out of place.

"Sherlock, love? All right?" Molly purred to him, reaching a hand to his cheek.

"Mmm," Sherlock said in answer. Then John came to himself a little, and pulled out of Molly, dropping down between his friend and wife in the bed.

"Oh, darling," Molly felt the loss of him as he left her body.

"It's all right, I'm here," John said, kissing Molly, but after only a minute, he turned his focus on Sherlock. He rose up on his elbows, and pinned his friend arms at his head. Sherlock was unprepared for an attack of this nature, and just let himself be captured.

"I promised you a punch, you idiot, didn't I?"

Sherlock chuckled, letting his head loll off the pillow in defeat.

"Yes, all right, John, punch me if you must. But make the blow glance a bit, there's not much room in the bed for my head respond to a blow so you'll have to –"

John stopped his friend's words by pressing his thumb into Sherlock's mouth, exploring his mouth gently as Sherlock had done earlier. The doctor watched as Sherlock's eyes closed, and John took in the sensations of his friend sucking and gently biting him, licking him with his tongue.

Molly had propped herself up on an elbow and was watching the pair. She couldn't see their faces very clearly, but their features were silhouetted perfectly by the dim light on the bedside table across from her. They were in perfect profile. She wished she could help them out in some way, but they would have to figure things out on their own, she knew. He's going to do tonight, he's going to kiss him, I know it.

It was delicious to watch. She wondered if John liked it, the sensation of Sherlock sucking on his thumb, biting him no doubt. She watched Sherlock's mouth moving around John's thumb, and John smiling down at Sherlock, chuckling. He drew his thumb away from Sherlock's mouth, tracing the lines of his lips with his wet thumb, and then dipping his thumb in again, then thrusting tenderly a few times, fucking Sherlock's mouth with his thumb. Sherlock hummed quietly, and John was smiling. Then John drew his thumb away, and Molly felt herself grow faint as she watched her husband lean down and press his open mouth to Sherlock's, his tongue flicking quickly at Sherlock's upper lip, and then quickly pulling away. He stayed close, watching his friend's reaction. Sherlock's eyes snapped open, and he reached for John's face, involuntarily pulling him gently back, and John allowed it, flicking his tongue into Sherlock's mouth again, this time deeper, and pulling back slightly. Sherlock laughed, and John chuckled too, as he leaned in a again, flicking and pulling back. Sherlock waited then and lightly held John's face in his two hands, waiting, not wanting to push, waiting. At last, the doctor swooped in flicked, bit, kissed and licked Sherlock's lips in an attack that left Sherlock speechless and breathing hard. John stopped and looked down at his friend, Sherlock waited, his mouth open, waiting, waiting. Finally, John just sank down against Sherlock, chest to chest, his mouth melting against his friend's in a deep open mouthed kiss. Sherlock let out a long moan, which seemed to end in a whimper of relief as he clasped his friend to him, gripping him hard, their mouths melded together.

For the next half hour or so, Molly watched as the pair rolled back and forth in the bed in one another's arms, just kissing. From playful pecking and biting, to licking, to fully open mouths inseparable. At length, Molly giggled, and the two broke away from one another. Sherlock leaned over to her, kissing her.

"He kissed me, Molly, did you see?" Sherlock whispered, rolling Molly to her back, and quickly entering her. Then John was leaning over, kissing Molly.

"Did you watch us, Molly, sweetheart? Hmm?"

"Yes, I did, – ahh, darling - it was completely lovely, both of you."

"Mmm, come here, John."

John placed his head next to Molly's, and Sherlock leaned down to kiss him, then kissed Molly, then kissed John again. The three smiled and chuckled. Molly leaned her head in and stuck out her tongue, touching both men, all three entering into a mess of wet sloppy contact with lips and tongues. Then Molly backed off, as far as she could, as Sherlock started to thrust into her harder and with more heat. She watched as Sherlock leaned over to John while he remained still deep inside her and pumping her at a new and - oh - very interesting angle. Sherlock didn't miss a stroke as he smiled predatorily at John then descended on him in a barrage of kisses that would have left Molly breathless, she thought. John moaned into Sherlock's mouth, a hand on his face, another stroking his own length.

"Mmm, John, wait for one of us, hmm? We want – ah, Molly, we want to be with you."

"Move up, love," Molly suggested.

"Oh, Molly, Molly you are such an interesting woman," Sherlock growled and thrust into Molly hard and fast for a few moments.

"Oh, god, yes," she said, responding, bucking and writhing beneath him.

"Yes, yes, John, move up, move up," Sherlock directed.

John arranged himself to accommodate the couple and Sherlock took his friend's cock into his mouth.

"That's a lot of work you're taking on, mate," John chuckled, sitting up on his elbows.

"Don't you think I can manage it?" Sherlock left John for a moment, smiling.

"Only you, love," Molly cooed, a little breathless at the sensations she was having both visually and physically as she watched Sherlock swallow down John's erection again. Coordinating his movements above and below, Sherlock set an easy pace for himself at first. He revelled in the sensations he was having, lovely Molly, her soft skin, her sweet love sounds, her naughty responses to his own movements, then John, the novelty of the taste of his skin, his sweat, his newly uninhibited behavior, his willingness, his kisses. Sherlock quickened his pace at the thought of kissing John again, even as he had his cock in his mouth, stroking the base of him with his hand, occasionally dipping his fingers to John's testicles, stroking them. Then he felt John's hands in his hair, rubbing his scalp, gently pulling his hair and Sherlock hummed his contentment and bliss.

"Oh, god, oh, shit -," John responded to Sherlock's humming.

Sherlock started to lose a bit of control, his rhythm becoming more erratic, more spasmodic. His uneven rhythm brought Molly to a plateau, and she started feeling as though the universe were breaking up into bits and pixels and wandering off somewhere on their own. She felt her body take over, bucking and shaking and she came as she clung to Sherlock, biting into his shoulder. John was pushed over the edge watching Molly come to her finale, bucking into Sherlock, releasing himself into his mouth. As John finished, Sherlock allowed himself to let go, his orgasm shaking his body so severely that Molly was a little afraid he was going to knock his head into her face again the way he had in the past, bloodying her nose and lip. But she was able to keep her head out of his way until he collapsed onto her, fully, unaware for the moment of whether he was crushing her or not. She secretly relished this rough treatment, it was in such contrast to John's loving and gentlemanly attentiveness, but she never said anything about it. She knew Sherlock knew she liked it. They had a secret smile for it.

The three lay for several minutes, speechless and panting and Molly started laughing, John and Sherlock joined her, as they found comfortable places for themselves, holding one another in bed. They continued chuckling and laughing, though wordless for several more minutes, pausing more and more often, until the chuckling was over, and they each signed a satisfied sigh.

Morning. When John woke he found himself looking into Sherlock's eyes, which were open and sparkling in what little morning light was in the room.

"So? Are you – going to punch me today?" Sherlock asked, a soft smile on his lips.

"Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not today." John clasped his hand to the back of his friend's neck, and kissed him unreservedly.

I realize this isn't everyone's favorite ship, but if you did like it, please let me hear from you!

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