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Tandem (784 words) by janto321
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Nightmares, Watching Someone Sleep, Frottage, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Summary:

Two relationships, each unique, but also mirrors of one another in ways their participants never know.

This was me comparing and contrasting johnlock and mystrade. How they’re the same, how they’re different. All in a 780 word smutfic.

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And I wrote a mystrade. It might be multichapter, if folks want:

A Cabin Hideaway – Mycroft takes Greg out to a cabin for some alone time.

teaser below the cut

reg frowned as he pulled up to a quiet parking lot and found Mycroft waiting next to his usual black car. He parked and got out. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Gregory, please, get in.” Mycroft was as imperious as ever, offering no other explanation.

At least this time, he seemed to be giving Greg a choice.

Sighing a bit, Greg got in and scooted across the back seat. Mycroft joined him and the car started. The windows were shaded so Greg had no idea where they were going. Fear tickled his spine. But this was Mycroft. While fear was probably not an unreasonable reaction to have with Mycroft Holmes, he knew this man. They’d been lovers for over a year now. And he always kept careful control until they were safely ensconced in a bedroom. And sometimes even then,, Greg had to coax him out of his shell, spending an what seemed like an hour slowly licking him open or sucking his cock until his lover was a moaning, writhing mess. If he was very lucky or had done particularly well, Mycroft would beg for his cock.

Just thinking about it made Greg have to adjust his trousers. Mycroft, of course, did not miss the movement. He didn’t turn his gaze towards Greg, but his hand slid across the seat and over his thigh until he could touch the growing bulge. Greg was surprised, but he leaned back and let Mycroft do what he wanted, biting back a moan as he wasn’t sure that Mycroft wanted the driver to know exactly what they were doing back here.

continue on AO3

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Do you happen to know any good mystrade fanfics by chance? :)

aconissa:

I sure do! These are all mystrade-centric or primarily mystrade, because there are loads of johnlock fics with background mystrade out there.

Thank you for reccing me!

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And here is my AU exchangelock gift for plummydear:

The Dean – When security guard Greg brings Sherlock back to his brothers house, he’s surprised to find Dean Mycroft in heat.

Alternate professions, omegaverse mystrade pwp.

teaser below the cut

Greg Lestrade has been working security at this school a long time. Long enough to see students and staff come and go. Mycroft Holmes had taken over as Dean only two years previous. Young for the job and an omega, he’d proved more than capable of the position. Greg was secretly pleased to see how thoroughly he proved his doubters wrong.

The only thorn now in Mycroft’s side was his younger brother. Sherlock was brilliant, but perpetually in trouble. Where Mycroft had been studious and hard-working, Sherlock came across as lazy and uncaring. Only his brother’s position had kept him in the school at all.

So it wasn’t entirely unsurprising when Greg found Sherlock in the chemistry lab after curfew. For as much as the boy loathed school, this wasn’t the first time Greg had caught him like this. He waited until he knew startling Sherlock wouldn’t make him drop a dangerous chemical or anything and strode into the classroom.

Sherlock jumped. The guilt on his face made Greg glad he changed up his schedule enough to keep the students on their toes; the loss of a little sleep was better than finding the chemistry lab blown up or the school on fire. Not that Sherlock was ever intentionally destructive. But things could happen and he’d stopped more than one case of vandalism in the past from others. “Let’s get this cleaned up,” he said, not unkindly.

Grumbling, Sherlock made some notes and quickly closed his composition book. Greg helped him get everything put away. “This isn’t the first time, Sherlock and I don’t want to wake your roommates. I’m going to take you to your brother.”

continue on AO3

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prettyvk:

tea-n-brains replied to your post:drabble call
Johnlock/mystrade/fifa

Sherlock isn’t quite sure why he agreed anymore. Or rather, yes, he knows; at some point he’s bound to develop some minimum of immunity to John turning on the charm… right?

Bad enough he’s being forced to watch a football game, but to do so, of all places, in a pub? And with not only Lestrade but also Mycroft for companions? No sexual favor is worth that kind of torture.

And it’s only been twenty minutes. Although it is rather satisfying to watch Mycroft be even more uncomfortable and out of place than Sherlock feels. Every so often, he starts to raise his glass to his lips, but then he gets a whiff of the wine and grimaces. He has yet to take a sip.

As the entirety of the pub erupts in disgusted groans, Sherlock looks up at the screen again. He’s obviously missed something. Judging from the exclamations around him, the referee did… something. Or didn’t do something. The players in white – is that England? – are apparently arguing with him about something. Out comes a little red rectangle, and the groaning in the pub redoubles.

“They bought that guy!” Lestrade exclaims. “No other explanation!!”

John agrees heartily, and the two of them, along with the rest of the room, continues to verbally abuse a man who stands on a football field on the other side of the world. Sherlock looks at Mycroft, desperate for confirmation that yes, this is all very stupid, but Mycroft has pulled his phone out and is typing furiously. It’d be useless to try to have a phone conversation in here.

“That bored?” Lestrade asks, leaning closer to him. “If you want to leave…”

“No, I said I’d come and I’ll stay until the end. Let me just forward this to the FIFA… Here we go. That should do it.” With a satisfied smirk, he pockets his phone again.

“What did you just do?” John asks, sounding equal parts amused and wary.

“I just sent a copy of the latest statement from that referee’s Swiss bank account to the committee in charge of referees’ assignations. It seems he did indeed receive a bribe.”

Both Lestrade and John stare at him. Honestly, they should have stopped being impressed by this kind of tricks a long time ago. What a show off…

After half-time, the referee doesn’t come back. Apparently, he took ill very suddenly. Unheard of, but the game must go on. Or something.

His replacement, according to the general mood, seems to be an improvement. England even ends up winning. Mycroft is insufferably smug for the rest of the evening. Next time Sherlock is definitely staying home.