
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6546004.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Sherlock_Holmes/John_Watson, Mycroft_Holmes/Greg_Lestrade
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, John_Watson, Greg_Lestrade, Mycroft_Holmes
  Additional Tags:
      Teacher_John_Watson, Student_Sherlock, University_Student_Sherlock,
      Underage_Sex, Eventual_Sex, Eventual_Smut, Teacher-Student_Relationship,
      Alternate_Universe_-_College/University, Teacher_Greg_Lestrade,
      University_Student_Mycroft, Student_Mycroft, Slow_Burn, Sherlock_Has_a
      Military_Kink, Mycroft_Likes_Older_Men, Happy_Ending, Angst, Fluff, Smut,
      Mycroft_is_17, sherlock_is_16, Greg_is_51, John_is_40
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-13 Updated: 2016-05-04 Chapters: 6/? Words: 5610
****** What Could Go Wrong? Oh. That's What. ******
by GalaxyAce
Summary
     First attempt at writing a chapter fic. I'll update it if people like
     it, I guess.
     Dr. John Watson teaches psychology and calculus at Cambridge
     University. Dr. Greg Lestrade teaches physics and physics with
     calculus. They have something in common. They both have crushes on
     one of their students. Coincidentally, the students they like are
     brothers, and pretty young, which kind of turns them on; knowing it's
     kinda wrong. It also turns Sherlock and Mycroft on too. They just
     won't admit it.
***** First Day *****
7:00 am.
John Watson’s alarm clock rang, startling him awake. He sighed and reached over
to end the infernal buzzing. John brought his hands up to his face and shut his
eyes. It was the first day at his new job. He would be teaching psychology and
maths to students at Cambridge University. John groaned and rolled out of bed,
picking up a fresh set of clothes and underwear. He trudged into the bathroom
and turned the shower on, quickly popping out to grab a towel and sling it over
the bar. While he was waiting for the shower to warm up, he looked at himself
in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his short, dirty blond hair, tousling
it a bit. He sighed once more and looked disappointingly at his reflection in
the mirror. He was 40 years old and had never been married. It’s not that he
was a bad-looking fellow, he actually was quite attractive, he was just waiting
for the right person. The mirror had quickly fogged over with the steam of the
shower and John stripped himself of his pajamas and hopped inside. The hot
water felt great and relaxing on his body; he was actually quite nervous for
his first day on the job. He had never taught before. John shampooed his hair
and soaped up his body. He spent a few minutes just standing in the stream of
hot water, shutting his eyes and mentally preparing himself for work. He turned
the shower off and wrapped the towel around himself. After getting dried and
dressed, John made himself a cup of tea and two pieces of toast. Looking at the
clock and realising he had less than 30 minutes to get his ass to the
university, he finished up eating the toast and quickly brushed his teeth and
hair. He grabbed his car keys, briefcase and put on his shoes and dashed out of
his flat, locking the door behind him and running down the steps to get to his
car.
The drive took about 15 minutes and John walked in the door of the university,
introducing himself to some of the other staff and flashing his university ID
at some security guards. John walked down the hallway to his classroom and
situated himself, pulling out his laptop, papers, and mobile phone. He glanced
at the wall clock that read 8:30. John slumped down in his large chair and
sighed. His first class started at 9:00, so he was preparing syllabuses to hand
out. 9:00 came quicker than he thought and soon his classroom was filling up
with students.
“Hello, I’m Dr. John Watson. I’ll be your professor for this class, and
probably a few others if you’re taking other social science classes or maths
classes.” John paused a bit to look at the 40 pairs of eyes staring blankly at
him. He tensed up slightly.
“Are ther-“ John stopped mid-sentence to look at someone who came into class
late. John’s jaw nearly dropped. He was looking at who could possibly be the
most handsome lad he ever saw. He was tall and thin and had amazing bluish-
silver coloured eyes. He was wearing a long, black trench coat with more black
clothes underneath. The boy stood there close to the door, the 40 pairs of eyes
were quickly staring at him.
“Um, I got a bit lost…” The boy’s voice trailed off and he started walking
toward John. “This is the right room for Dr. John Watson’s class, yes?”
John blinked a bit and smiled nervously. “Yes, you’re in the right room.” John
pointed toward an empty seat in the first row. “Please take a seat.”
The boy nodded and clutched his backpack while making his way to the empty
seat, not making eye contact with anyone.
“So, are there any questions?” John finished what he was saying earlier.
A hand shot up from the middle of the room. John looked at the girl and
criticised her looks a bit in his head. She was quite unattractive with dyed
blonde hair and a bit too much makeup on.
“Yes?” John said.
The girl opened her mouth to ask her question and spoke with a thick Cockney
accent. “How much does the textbook cost for this class?”
John laughed quietly to himself, “I’m not actually sure, I’m afraid. This is my
first day on the job. I’ll be sure to find out and let you know later, though.”
“So, if there aren’t any more questions, you’ll find a syllabus on your desk.
Just read through that and you’ll get a feel of what the class will contain and
some important test dates.” John said while walking back over to his desk to
turn his laptop on. He pulled up a presentation on a few basic psychology
topics and answered a few other questions some students had. His class was over
at 11:15. All the students got up out of their seats and filed out the door.
John walked up to the front row. “What’s your name?”
The boy zipped up his backpack and looked at the man standing in front of him.
“Sherlock Holmes.” He answered while standing up, slinging the backpack over
his shoulder.
John was taken a bit aback. The boy was quite tall. And lovely.
“What other classes do you teach?” Sherlock asked.
“I teach this one, obviously, I teach Statistics from 12:25 to 2:00, and I
teach Calculus 3 from 3:45 to 5:15.” John answered him back.
Sherlock studied his schedule. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you again at 3:45 for
Calculus.” Sherlock nodded at John and started walking out the door.
John walked back to his chair and sat down, preparing himself for his class at
12:25. The class went by quicker than he thought and John walked to the
cafeteria to buy some lunch. He took his lunch back into his classroom and saw
a familiar face in a chemistry lab he passed by. It was Sherlock.
“Oh, he takes chemistry.” John said quietly to himself and took a bite out of
his turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich. He made his way to his classroom down the
hall and closed the door behind him. He ate and passed the time watching videos
on his phone. 3:40 rolled around and students were pouring into his classroom
for their afternoon calculus class. There were 65 students in his class this
time.
Sherlock walked in quietly, on time, and took his seat in the front row where
he sat during his first class. John observed him for a bit. Sherlock looked
quite young for a university student. John kept looking because Sherlock was
busy writing something down. He had a head full of beautiful, black curls and
they contrasted quite nicely against his rather pale complexion. The boy’s
defined cheekbones and full lips were quite attractive as well. Sherlock had a
rather vampirish look to him, tall, pale, thin, and covered in black clothes.
John thought it was bloody hot.
“Alright, I’m Dr. John Watson. There’s a copy of the syllabus on each of your
desks. Now, please raise your hand if you are currently a senior.”
40 students raised their hands.
“Okay. Juniors?” John asked.
20 students raised their hands.
“Sophomores?”
Only 4 students raised their hands.
“Any freshmen?”
Sherlock tentatively raised his hand, his eyes fixed on his desk, not wanting
to attract attention.
John looked at him. “Really? That’s quite amazing.” He smiled. “Now, any
questions or comments before we get started going through the syllabus?”
No one raised their hand and the class passed by quickly, ending at 5:15. The
students gathered their things and walked out of the classroom. John walked out
too, catching up to Sherlock in the hall.
“Hello, Mr. Holmes. Could you answer a question for me?” John asked the boy.
“Sure.” Sherlock shrugged.
“How old are you?” John looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face.
“I’m 16. Why?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
“You look much younger thank everyone in the class. I didn’t mean to make you
feel uncomfortable.” John chuckled a bit.
“Oh, I’m used to it, don’t worry.” Sherlock smiled. “See you tomorrow, Dr.
Watson.”
Sherlock turned on his heel and walked out of the building.
***** Second Day *****
John was ready to start another day at the university. He followed his usual
routine in the morning but splashed on a bit of expensive cologne. John walked
through the university, found his classroom, and plopped himself down on his
chair. He glanced at his phone. It was only 8:32 so he decided to look up
Sherlock in the student database. John was amazed at what he saw. Sherlock was
extremely bright.
“He’s a genius!” John exclaimed to himself. “No wonder he’s at one of the best
universities at this age.”
His first class passed slowly. John sneaked glances at Sherlock quite
frequently and Sherlock couldn’t help but notice from the corner of his eye.
John’s second class passed even slower and he was happy to finally eat. While
leaving the cafeteria, John bumped into someone. John looked up from his phone
to apologise and realised it was Sherlock.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry, S-sherlock.” John stammered out.
“It’s okay.” Sherlock shrugged. “I didn’t see you down there.” He laughed and
smacked John playfully on the arm.
They both continued on their way and John finally reached his classroom.
‘Had Sherlock just flirted with me?’ John thought.
Soon enough, 3:40 rolled around and students were piling into his classroom.
Sherlock walked in and took his seat at the front of the class. John taught his
class some simple limits and gave them a homework assignment to work on for the
remainder of the class. The clock hit 5:15 and the students placed their papers
on John’s desk, walking out the door after. Sherlock lingered a bit. When the
room was void of other students, Sherlock went up to John’s desk with his
assignment in his hand and his backpack on his shoulders.
“I want to apologise for what I said at the cafeteria. I didn’t mean any
offence, I just thought it might be funny, but saying a joke like that to
teacher might be a bit rude… not that I meant it in a mean way, short people
like yourself are quite adorable and… yeah.” Sherlock rambled and dropped his
paper on John’s desk, reaching a hand up to his head and running his fingers
through his curls.
“Oh, uh, it’s alright. I get it often, I mean, I am quite small.” John forced
out a chuckle and saw how uncomfortable Sherlock was. The boy was sweating a
bit and his eyes were darting nervously around the room. John cleared his
throat, “So, yeah, it-”
“Seeyoutomorrowbye” Sherlock mumbled out quickly and ran out of the classroom,
clutching the straps of his black backpack.
John chuckled a bit to himself because Sherlock was cute when he was nervous
and also, he called John ‘adorable’
Calculus 3 was John’s last class of the day, so he got back to his flat at
around 5:40. He decided to take a walk around the flat block today; he was in a
really good mood. After a few minutes, John swore he saw Sherlock going up the
steps to a flat in the building next to where John’s flat was. He shook his
head and thought he might be seeing things. And with that he hightailed it back
to his flat and decided to relax for the rest of the day. He made a simple
pasta dinner and sat down in front of the telly to watch a film and eat. Around
9:30, John decided to call it a night. He changed into his pajamas, set his
alarm for tomorrow, and fell asleep.
***** The Dream *****
“Looks like you need to stay after class for detention from yours truly.” John
smiled seductively to Sherlock.
“What if I decide not to? What if I just leave?” Asked Sherlock, returning the
smile.
“Then I guess you’ll have to be punished.” John stepped dangerously close to
the young, tall boy.
“Try me.” Sherlock stepped forward until he and John were centimetres apart.
“I will.” John grabbed Sherlock by the collar of his trench coat and pushed him
up against the wall, kissing the young boy with great force. He had been
meaning to do this since he first saw Sherlock walk into his classroom.
Sherlock sighed into John’s mouth and responded by grabbing the teacher’s hips
and pulling him sharply forward into Sherlock’s own hips and groin. This only
intensified John’s need for Sherlock; he stripped the boy of his long trench
coat and threw it on the floor as fast as he could. They broke apart for a few
short moments, ridding themselves of their shirts, then quickly resuming their
urgent kissing against the wall where Sherlock was pinned up by John. Sherlock
ran his hands up and down his teacher’s sides, finally wrapping his long arms
around the short teacher’s waist. John’s arms were around Sherlock’s neck, one
of his hands sneaking up to Sherlock’s hair and grabbing a handful.
Sherlock let out a moan into John’s open mouth and forced him backwards, onto
his own desk. It was quite a large desk. Sherlock pushed the teacher down on
the desk and climbed on top of the shorter man, straddling him. Sherlock’s
large hands were caressing John’s smooth body in an instant and their lips were
clashing against each other once more. John panted underneath Sherlock,
desperately needing more of the young boy, he reached for Sherlock’s cock and
grabbed it through his trousers. Sherlock shot John a disapproving look and
whispered into his teachers’ ear in a dangerously low voice, “I’m going to have
you right on this desk.”
7:00 am.
The damned alarm clock woke him up and John groaned.
“No! 5 more minutes, ugh.” John turned the alarm off and sat on the edge of his
bed. He then realised what he'd been dreaming of.
“Wait, was I having a sex dream with SHERLOCK?” John’s eyes were wide open. He
cupped his face with his hands and sighed in disbelief.
“Ugh, I'm a pervert! He's only 16! Jesus...” John shook his head in an attempt
to rid himself of what he had just dreamed of. Reluctantly, he went to take a
shower and carry on with his morning.
***** Well, This Will Be Awkward. *****
Chapter Summary
     Sherlock doesn't show up for class and John is disappointed. His
     friend, Gregory, confides in him about a problem exactly like John's
     and Greg finds out that his crush lives in the same flat block as
     John. They decide to get drunk and knock on the door. John is
     surprised at what he sees.
John arrived at the university a bit earlier than usual. He situated himself in
his classroom and pulled out his laptop to consult the student database. He
wanted to find out what Sherlock’s schedule was. John pulled up his list of
students and selected the name ‘Holmes, W. Sherlock S.’ Sherlock’s schedule was
pulled up on his screen immediately. The screen read:
Holmes, William Sherlock Scott
9:00-11:15/Psychology, Dr. John Watson
11:30-12:30/Advanced Organic Chemistry, Dr. Rosa Sciege
1:15-2:45/Physics with Calculus III, Dr. Gregory Lestrade
3:45-5:15/Calculus III, Dr. John Watson
5:30-6:40/Honours English Seminar, Dr. Carl Strong
John sighed. Sherlock was bloody impressive. He looked at the bottom right
corner of his computer screen which had the time and rolled his eyes. His class
would be starting in 6 minutes. And he’d have to see Sherlock. The boy who was
about fuck him in his dream. He sighed again, heavily, and loaded up the day’s
psychology presentation on the projector. Students poured into his classroom,
but he didn’t see Sherlock. John taught his lesson, eyeing the door frequently
in case Sherlock came in late. He didn’t. John wasn’t enthusiastic about his
lesson and talked in a monotone voice. He missed Sherlock sitting there in the
front row, writing and staring up at him with those pale blue eyes.
He went on with day, excited when his lunch break came so he could hopefully
see Sherlock in the cafeteria. But to no avail. He opened the cafeteria door
and saw a bunch students, none of them Sherlock. Disappointed, he left and made
his way back to his classroom, stopping to peer into the chemistry lab he saw
Sherlock in before. Met with more disappointment, John hung his head low and
trudged forward.
“John!”
John’s head perked up a bit, searching for the source of the shout. A tall, tan
man with silver hair walked quickly toward him. It was his friend Greg
Lestrade.
“Hey, Greg. How are you?” John walked toward his friend.
“I’ve been better, but I need to tell you something.” Greg looked around, “in
private. It’s a bit… personal and I trust you with everything.”
John smiled and reminisced a bit. They had been friends since John was in high
school and Greg was pursuing his doctorate. Greg was about 10 years older.
“Sure, mate. We can talk in my classroom; it’s just down the hall.”
“Alright.” Greg shuffled nervously and walked next to John to his classroom.
They got inside and Greg sat down at one of the student’s desks.
“So, what’s your dilemma, mate?” John put his hands on his hips and looked at
Greg.
Greg ran his fingers through his short, silver hair and sighed. “There’s a
student in my class… and I guess I’m kinda… attracted to him… you know? I know
it’s so wrong and I could lose my job, but he’s so amazing and handsome and
tall…” Greg’s voice trailed off and he cupped his face with hands.
John could see how distressed his poor friend was. He put his hand on Greg’s
shoulder, deciding whether or not to tell him about his own problem with
Sherlock.
“It’s funny you say that… because I’m in the same predicament as you.” Greg
looked up at John and thought he was just making fun of him. But then he saw
the seriousness in the younger teacher’s eyes and knew he wasn't playing.
John paced slowly around his desk, staring up at the ceiling with a dreamy look
on his face. “His name is Sherlock… he’s tall and beautiful. He’s got these
amazing silver eyes and his hair, ugh, it’s so curly, dark, and amazing… I wish
I could run my fingers through it. And his fashion sense is so mysterious, with
his dark coats and black clothes…”
John snapped back to reality and looked back at Greg.
Greg was smiling at him. “Sounds like you’re in deep.” He laughed. “His name is
Mycroft and he’s pretty tall too… He’s got blue eyes and auburn hair… He’s the
most exquisite human being I’ve ever seen in my 51 years of living. He’s got
these long legs… what I would give to have those legs wrapped around me…” Greg
stopped talking immediately and blushed.
John laughed. “Sounds like you’re in pretty deep too, mate.”
“Ah, bugger off. I’ve got to go get a presentation ready. Want to go out and
drunk after work?” Greg got up off the seat and started walking to the entrance
of the classroom.
“Sounds like a plan. Come back in here around 6.” John said.
“Gotcha, mate. I’ll be here.” Greg left the classroom and went to his own to
teach his class.
John’s classroom filled up with students once more, with no sight of Sherlock
again. He taught his lesson, praying that 6:00 came quick so he could leave.
Sure enough, it did and his class was leaving. John packed up his laptop and
waited for Greg. The door opened and Greg was standing there.
“Oi, mate, I found out that Mycroft lives in the same flat block as you.” Greg
looked a bit embarrassed and added, “It’s on the student database under
‘Personal Information’”
“Maybe we should get drunk and pay him a visit!” John said playfully.
“I’m down! We could just say it’s an innocent mistake!” Greg laughed and walked
out the door with John, making regular small talk as they exited the university
and got to their cars. They sped off to the nearest bar and ordered some
drinks.
“John, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get drunk and then drive to your flat.
I didn’t really think this through.”
“Fuck me, you’re right. God, we’re bloody calculus professors and we can’t even
think this shit through?” John laughed. “Maybe we should just go buy a bunch of
liquor down at the liquor store; it’s, like, 8 minutes away from here.”
“Let’s do that.” Greg agreed and finished his drink.
They both stood up and left the pub, walked to their cars and John led Greg to
the liquor store. They went in and bought a bunch of alcoholic drinks.
Satisfied with their picks, they nodded to each other and made their way to the
till. Grabbing the bag full of liquor, Greg held the door open for John and
they were on their way again, to John’s flat. They arrived and John grabbed the
bag with bottles out of his car while fumbling with his pocket to get his keys
out.
“Need some help, mate?” Greg called over to John from his car.
“Yeah, could you take the bag? I’ve got to open my flat.” John laughed and
handed the bag to Greg. They walked up a few steps and John opened his door.
“Alright, this is going to be a fun night!” Greg whooped and opened a bottle of
Bailey’s.
“I agree.” John closed the door to his flat and opened a bottle of Kahlua.
About an hour and half passed and their speech was becoming slurred so they
decided to go and knock on Mycroft’s door now. They left the flat, giggling
like teenage boys, with an open bottle of liquor in their hands. They stumbled
down the steps and looked for the number ‘221’ on the flat doors.
“Oi! I found it!” Greg shouted drunkenly to John and they both staggered to the
door, still giggling.
Greg knocked on the door and heard footsteps coming from inside.
“He’s coming.” Greg whispered while still laughing.
Much to both of their surprise, Sherlock opened the door.
“Can I help you?” Sherlock asked the drunk teachers.
John’s eyes widened. “Sherlock?!”
***** Holy Hell *****
Chapter Summary
     Mycroft and drunk Greg get it on. Sherlock and less drunk John start
     to get it on.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“Dr. Watson?” Sherlock returned the surprise John had in his voice, looking at
the short man up and down. “C-can I help you guys with something?” Sherlock
stammered a bit and blushed slightly. He was greatly amused by seeing two of
his professors drunk and giggling.
John looked at his drunk friend. He was bloody wasted. John was a bit more
sober. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, trying to stand up a
little bit straighter. Before John could say anything, he was interrupted by
Greg’s slurred speech.
“Where’s… your brother?” Greg propped himself up on the doorframe and looked at
Sherlock.
Sherlock stepped back a bit. “He’s inside, working on a research paper, Dr.
Lestrade.”
Greg’s eyes lit up. “C-can I see him?”
“Uh… do you think that’s a good idea? In your… um, current state?” Sherlock
shifted uncomfortably and shot Greg a look of worry.
“I won’t be long… I just want to tell him s-something.” Greg mumbled and looked
down, hiding his growing smile.
“Well, alright. Come in, guys.” Sherlock opened the door wider and two giggling
men stumbled into the flat. Sherlock turned toward Greg. “Mycroft is in there.”
He pointed to a white door with an Indiana Jones poster taped to it.
“Thanks, mate.” Greg drunkenly saluted Sherlock, touching two fingers to his
forehead and shuffled his way to Mycroft’s room.
Sherlock turned his attention to the short, blond man and smiled awkwardly.
“So, I, uh, didn’t know you and Dr. Lestrade were friends.” Sherlock attempted
to make small talk with his drunk professor.
“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time.” John tried his best not to slur his
words. “How long have you been Mycroft’s brother?” John asked and looked into
Sherlock’s eyes, realised what he said, and turned red.
Sherlock smiled and laughed.
“Wait, no, ignore that. I just realised what I said, stupid, I’m sorry. It’s
the alcohol.” John tried to hide his embarrassment and took deep breaths in an
attempt to stop blushing.
“It’s alright.” Sherlock put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Do you want some water
or tea or something? I think you should put that bottle down.” Sherlock walked
toward the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a cold bottle of water.
“I want to have you on that table.” John whispered under his breath, not
thinking Sherlock would hear.
“Why didn’t you just say so?” Sherlock took long strides toward John, grinning
widely.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.” John tried to play
innocent. That didn’t work with Sherlock.
Sherlock cocked his head and looked John in the eye. He paced around John with
his hands on hips, lifting them periodically to make gestures. “On the first
day of class you were completely fine. On the second day I noticed you had put
a little extra effort into your appearance. But for who? Me, obviously. We
exchanged glances quite frequently and words, albeit less frequently. But, each
time we talked, I noticed that your pupils dilated and your breathing pattern
changed ever so slightly. What are those symptoms of? Attraction.” Sherlock
grinned matter-of-factly and continued. “When we’d exchange looks in the
classroom, you would become noticeably flustered and try very hard not to look
at me again. You failed. Multiple times.” Sherlock stood just inches away from
John. “Am I right?”
John’s mouth was open. He was shocked. And amazed. “Y-y-yeah… you’re right.” He
stammered out, looking at the floor. “Stupid of me, wasn’t-“
Before John could finish what he saying, Sherlock grabbed him by his shirt
collar and hoisted him up on the kitchen counter. John’s legs spread apart and
Sherlock wiggled his way between them, sealing off the distance between their
faces with a tender kiss. John’s mouth tasted like alcohol, but Sherlock didn’t
mind. It only took mere seconds for the kiss to turn aggressive. Sherlock
wrapped his long arms around John’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
John’s hands found his way to Sherlock’s arse, pulling him sharply forward, but
his crotch only being met with the coldness of counter, much to Sherlock’s
chagrin.
“You’re such a tease, Sherlock.” John breathed into the taller man’s ear and
slid off the counter. He took Sherlock’s hands and led him toward his own
bedroom. Sherlock slammed the door shut and pushed John on the bed, climbing on
top of him and aggressively pinning the teacher’s short arms down.
They both stopped for a second. And looked at each other. Confusedly.
In the room next door, the faint sound of a squeaking bed was heard. Panting
and moaning were getting louder as Sherlock and John pressed their ears against
the wall.
“Ohhh… fuck, yes! Mycroft!… fuck!”
“Greg… ohh! God!”
John and Sherlock shrugged and resumed their positions.
Sherlock reached a hand inside John’s shirt, pulling out a silver necklace with
two metal squares attached to it that read:
John H. Watson
Rank: Captain
DOB: 08/09/1975
Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers
 
Sherlock grinned and licked the cold metal. John was a bit confused but he was
definitely getting aroused.
“I’ve got a bit of a penchant for army men.” Sherlock whispered dangerously
close to John’s ear, giving the tingling cartilage a soft lick. John’s eyes
fluttered and he got ready for the night of his life.
Chapter End Notes
     Heh, at first I kinda didn't want to keep going with this story but
     now it's getting fun to write. I hope you guys think the same!
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     Rewinding back a little bit to let you guys know what happened with
     Greg and Mycroft.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry this took so long :( I've been writing other stories and when I
     thought about this one, my mind went blank.
Greg opened the door to Mycroft’s room and stepped inside. He set his bottle
down on a nearby table and closed the door.
“Hey, Mycroft.” Greg saw Mycroft who was sitting at his desk, surrounded by
papers, books, and pencils.
“Hello Dr. Lestrade.” Mycroft was surprisingly calm, crossing his arms and
turning toward the handsome silver-haired man who was taking a seat on
Mycroft’s bed. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Greg looked at him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is something you can help
me with, Mycroft.” He stood up and walked toward Mycroft’s desk, stopping about
2 metres away from the boy. “Have you got a girlfriend?” Greg slurred his words
a little bit and Mycroft let out a small chuckle.
“I haven’t got a girlfriend, no. Not interested.” Mycroft looked down and
blushed a bit. “I have a… uh… different taste in people I choose to pursue a
relationship with.”
“Oh, like what?” Greg asked.
“Well, I prefer smart, good-looking, tall, older… men.” Mycroft made eye
contact with Greg for about half a second before looking away as quickly as he
could. He had hoped Greg caught on to what he was implying.
Greg did get what he was implying, and walked over to Mycroft’s desk. He took a
seat on the desk, directly in front of Mycroft, pushing Mycroft’s chair back a
little bit to situate himself, then pulling the chair, with Mycroft in it, back
to the desk, between Lestrade’s legs.
“So, would you fancy… someone like me?” Greg leaned down and breathed that
sentence into Mycroft’s ear. Mycroft could smell alcohol on the older man’s
breath, but neither of them cared.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Mycroft whispered back to Greg, their faces just
inches apart.
Greg grabbed Mycroft by his shirt and lifted him off the chair, pushing the boy
up against the wall of his room with his strong hands. Mycroft trembled with
excitement and nervousness. Mycroft opened his mouth to speak but he was
quickly cut off by a gentle, warm pressure against his lips. Greg was kissing
him. His teacher was kissing him. Mycroft couldn't be happier. Deep down
inside, Mycroft thought a teacher-student relationship was hot, but he never
thought he would actually have one!
Mycroft kissed Greg back a little harder, causing Greg to tighten his grip on
the boy's shirt. Mycroft smiled internally and began exploring the older man's
body with his pale hands. His hands moved over the teacher's strong arms,
coming to rest on the back of his neck. The kiss was broken and Greg finally
spoke.
"Well, this went better than expected." Greg smiled seductively at the younger
boy.
"I agree. But, don't stop now... I was just starting to have fun." Mycroft
pouted, trying to look as cute as he could.
Greg smirked. "Hm, well, would you like to continue? Because I don't object."
"I'd like to do something... else." Mycroft knelt on the floor in front of
Greg, situating himself so that his knees were comfortable and wouldn't hurt
after.
Greg opened his mouth in shock. "You... you mean?" 
"Oh, I mean." Mycroft's hand extended upward toward Greg's crotch, feeling his
cock hardening under the boy's slender hand. He rubbed the teacher's cock
teasingly until it was fully hard then moved his hand slightly upward to
unfasten his belt. When the belt came undone, Mycroft pulled Greg's pants and
trousers down as quickly as he could, eager to get started. 
The cool air brushed against the teacher's fully erect cock and it felt quite
pleasant. But feeling Mycroft's mouth on his fully erect cock might feel even
more pleasant.
Mycroft took Greg's cock in his hands and massaged it sensually.
"Oh, god" Greg moaned quietly.
Then Greg felt the cool air around his cock disappear into a warm, wet mouth.
He moaned slightly louder at this pleasant change in environment.
Mycroft took the teacher's cock out of his mouth with a 'pop' and looked up at
the grey-haired man. His eyes were half-lidded and his mouth was slightly
parted. The boy carefully placed his tongue underneath the head of his cock,
the most sensitive part. Mycroft felt Greg's body tense up a little bit, but
then the boy opened his mouth wider and took in all of Greg's cock. He began
sucking slowly but then picking up speed in less than a minute. Mycroft felt
large hands against his head, pushing him down further on the teacher's cock.
Greg was mumbling incoherently, every second bringing him closer to orgasm.
Mycroft felt the vibrations in Greg's body and that prompted him to go faster.
The boy began sucking furiously on the teacher's large cock and Greg continued
pushing Mycroft's head faster and faster onto his cock.
“Ohhh… fuck, yes! Mycroft!… fuck!” Greg threw his head back as his orgasm
ripped through his body and into Mycroft's mouth.
Mycroft looked up at the older man and didn't break eye contact while
swallowing the teacher's sticky, white liquid.
"Now, come here." Greg growled as he wriggled out of his trousers completely
and picked up the boy, throwing him on the bed. Mycroft's pants and trousers
were removed quickly and thrown on the floor. The boy already had an erection
from sucking off his teacher.
Greg's hands were cold but they felt good around Mycroft's cock. The boy
moaned, knowing he wouldn't last too long, and he brought Greg in for a kiss
while the older man was still gripping his cock. Greg stroked Mycroft harder
and faster and soon their kiss turned into Mycroft's open mouth panting inside
Greg's.
“Greg… ohh!  God!”
The young boy's moans grew louder and Greg felt his cock throb, releasing a
milky substance all over his hand. Mycroft shuddered at the intensity of this
orgasm. He quite enjoyed it.
Greg licked his hand clean and walked over to bring Mycroft his pants and
trousers, gathering his own along the way. The two men dressed their lower
halves and crawled into bed next to each other, not saying a word, just
smiling.
 
 
 
 
 
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