
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/813125.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Greg_Lestrade/John_Watson
  Character:
      Greg_Lestrade, John_Watson
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Teacher-Student_Relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-22 Words: 1891
****** Some Rules Are Made to Be Broken ******
by Persiflager
Summary
     John is fifteen and Greg is not a good man.
Notes
     Originally posted here on the kink meme.
Thirty-one pairs of eyes watch the clock on the classroom wall as it ticks
inexorably towards three o’clock. There’s over a month left to go til the end
of school and it’s far too warm.
Finally, the bell rings.
“Alright you lot, off you go,” says Greg from behind his desk as chaos erupts
in front of him. “And I’ll have your essays on Monday.” His year 8 History
class stream out, dropping their tests on his desk as they pass. He counts
them, packs them away in his bag, and heads to the car park.
A couple of the girls from his sixth-form class wave and giggle at him as he
crosses the playground. He waves back politely. He used to find it embarrassing
when pupils had a crush on him, but he’s pretty inured to it now.
“Bloody hell,” says Seb Wilkes, maths teacher and self-appointed best mate, as
he comes up behind Greg. “Are those skirts or belts?”
“They’re children,” says Greg firmly. They might be the only two male teachers
under thirty at the school, but he hates thinking they’ve got anything in
common.
“Right,” says Seb unconvincingly, still staring. “You’re a stronger man than I
am.”
Greg winces because he’s really, really not.
“Anyway, have a good weekend. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Seb winks at
Greg and peels off towards his unnecessarily flash car.
Greg sort of feels sorry for Seb, when he’s not busy wanting to punch him. He
used to work in the City doing something clever with money, and claims that he
found it all too shallow and wanted to devote his life to something more
meaningful. The rumour is that he got caught fiddling the books and only
escaped prison by the skin of his teeth.
Anyway, now Seb’s teaching at one of Watford’s shittier comprehensives and his
social life consists of trying to drag a newly divorced history teacher out on
the pull, so he’s probably suffered enough.
Greg opens the front door of his car and stands there while the hot air seeps
out. He’s not sure if he’s trying to delay the disappointment when John doesn’t
show up, or give his conscience time to kick in in case John does.
He doesn’t know if he wants John to be there.
(That’s a lie – he very badly wants John to be there.)
He drives slowly home. It’s been a week since John last came round and he
hasn’t got any reason to expect that he’ll come round tonight. It’s highly
unlikely that Greg will pull into his drive and see John’s battered old bike
chained to his fence –
It’s there.
Greg takes a deep breath and lets himself into the house.
.....
Greg finds John leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking a can of Coke.
His jacket is on the back of a chair and there’s a washed-up plate and bread-
knife in the dish-rack, meaning that he’s already made himself a sandwich.
(John cleans up after himself partly out of habit, and partly to try and show
Greg that he’s more mature than most fifteen-year-olds).
Not tall for his age any more, since everyone else overtook him, John’s still
strong and supple. His light brown hair is getting shaggy – Greg makes a mental
note to send him to the barber. His eyes light up when he sees Greg, and he
licks his lovely lips.
Greg should say any of a number of things that he’s rehearsed. Instead he
crosses the room, curls his hand around John’s neck, and kisses him.
John puts the can down and digs his fingers into Greg’s waist as he kisses him
back, rough and clumsy. Greg steps closer, between John’s legs, and presses the
heel of his hand against the obvious bulge in his school uniform trousers.
John groans.
“How did they go?”
“Fine, I think.” John’s voice still cracks a little when he’s distracted.
“Good.”
Greg unbuttons John’s trousers with practiced ease. He slides his hand down
into John’s underwear and wraps it around John’s warm cock even as John bucks
and presses against Greg. He kisses John again, hard and unforgiving, and a few
minutes later he’s got a teenager’s come all over his hand.
He disengages gently, wiping his hand on his shirt. “When do you have to be
back?”
“I don’t,” says John, still gripping Greg’s waist.
“John-“
“I don’t,” he insists. “They’ve gone away and won’t be back til Sunday.”
Greg rests his forehead against John’s. “Come upstairs then,” he says.
And John does.
.....
Greg is not a good man. He knows this, and knows that he can’t trust himself to
do the right thing, which is why he made the rules.
1. Don’t mix with students outside of school.
He blames the breaking of this one on his loneliness following the divorce. It
had been nice having someone around the house, even just for half an hour of
tutoring, and John was bright and funny and opened up in a way he didn’t at
school.
And when John opened up a little bit more, and it became apparent that ‘not
technically abusive or negligent’ was the nicest thing Greg could say about
John’s parents, then it seemed like the right thing to show him where the spare
key was kept and say he was welcome to do his homework at Greg’s.
And, for a few months (while Greg pretended not to notice John’s pretty mouth
and flat stomach and pert bottom and hungry eyes), it was.
2. Don’t touch students
This one was for his own protection as much as theirs, but it had only taken
John’s hand on his knee to break it (oh, and how he’d broken it).
3. Always use condoms
To be fair, this one was never intended to apply to students.
(But because he still has some illusion of being a responsible adult, he tries
to pass this rule onto John.
“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” John says into the pillow as he
spread his legs wider.
“You will when you’re older.” Greg pulls all the way out and pushes back in
again, enjoying the sight nearly as much as the noise John makes.
“I won’t.”
“John.” Greg, exasperated, gives him a few hard thrusts. “Promise me. Remember
– other people are bastards.”
“Except you.” John doesn’t trust anyone else, as far as Greg can tell, but he
trusts Greg completely. It makes Greg’s heart ache and, because it shows how
terribly misguided John’s judgement is, makes him worry about John’s future.
“Especially me. Promise or I won’t suck you off.” It’s an empty threat – Greg
loves going down on John – but it works.
“Fine,” says John, reluctantly.
Greg makes it up to him later by teaching him about rimming.)
4. Don’t get caught.
This one had been added after rules one and two were broken, and comes with an
increasing number of associated rules: no dirty texts, no pictures saved on
their phones, no incriminating emails. Greg never gives John a lift. Never on
school grounds, not even if John finds Greg in an empty classroom after hours
and is certain no-one else is around.
Don’t tell anyone.
(“I mean it,” he says, the second time he has John in his bed.
Of course, he’d also meant to tell John that it couldn’t happen again.
John laughs, though it doesn’t sound like he finds it very funny. “Who would I
tell?”)
5. Don’t hurt John.
This is the golden rule, and he spends most of his waking hours worrying about
it.
Greg does what he can to tip the scales towards good (or at least ‘less bad’).
He makes John eat his vegetables, patches up his post-fight scrapes, gives him
what advice he can, and helps him revise for his GCSEs (not that testing a
student on their German vocabulary while you’re balls-deep in them is standard
practice, but it seems to work.)
It doesn’t do much to ease his conscience, but it helps Greg convince himself
of the one belief he still clings to – that although he’s a weak man, if it
became clear that he was doing irreparable harm, then he would stop.
Some days that lie is easier to believe than others.
.....
Greg fingers John for ages, ignoring the insistent throb of his erection, until
John’s wide open and dripping with lube. Greg rocks his way into John’s body
with slow, careful strokes until he’s fully seated, then finally lets himself
look at John’s face – flushed and adoring and too much.
Greg kisses him throughout, because John loves to be kissed more than almost
anything else, and fucks him through one orgasm and into a second.
Afterwards, they lie there sticky and panting in the humid room, and John rests
his head on Greg’s chest.
“Are you gay?” he asks.
Greg smiles at the ceiling – John has figured out that Greg is much more
susceptible to personal questions after sex, and has started taking advantage
of that fact.
“No. I was married, remember?”
“Some gay men marry women, to hide.”
“Yes, well I didn’t.”
“Are you bisexual, then?”
“If you like.”
John’s quiet for a minute. “Do you think I’m gay?”
“No – you keep trying to look down Sarah Sawyer’s top.” Greg wraps his arm
round John and strokes his shoulder. He wishes he didn’t know why John cared,
but the plain truth is that, as far as John’s schoolmates are concerned, being
gay is the single worst thing any person can be.
John hums peacefully and traces a pattern on Greg’s chest. “It’s my birthday in
a couple of weeks.”
“Is it now.” Greg knows that from John’s file, of course, but he likes it when
John tells him things of his own accord. “What do you want?”
“Can I fuck you?”
“Can you fuck me? I’m sure you can. Whether or not you may-“
John pokes him in the side.
“Ow! Fine, yes, you can fuck me if you want.”
“Do you like it?”
Greg shrugs. “I can take it or leave it.”
“I like it.” John sounds matter-of-fact, and it charms Greg completely.
“I know,” he says grinning. “But not everyone’s wired the same way.”
John smiles against Greg’s chest.
“I’ll be sixteen,” he says eventually.
“Mm.” Greg doesn’t particularly enjoy being reminded of that.
“I’ll be legal-“
“Not while I’m a teacher at your school.”
“I could change school. Or you could.”
“John, stop.” Greg tilts John’s head up so that he can look at him properly.
“Stop thinking about this. Next year you need to concentrate on your A-levels,
and I need to make sure you stay out of trouble.”
John looks mutinous. “You’re treating me like a child.”
Greg bites back the obvious response. “We’ll talk about it in the summer, if
that’s what you want – a proper, serious, grown-up talk.”
“Do you promise?”
“Always.” Greg kisses John’s forehead. “But I’m not going to promise that
you’ll like it.”
John snorts. “I like you.”
Greg squeezes him tightly in response.
.....
Next October, Greg breaks up a fight at school and gets a knife in the ribs for
his trouble. No-one’s surprised when he retires from teaching and moves away.
And, amid all the excitement of the court case, no-one really notices when
quiet little John Watson drops out of school.
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