Title: Thief
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Length: 221
Rating: PG-13/R
Pairing: John/Lestrade
Content notes: no warnings apply
Author note: Part of the Bad Language 'verse. 221b ficlet: 221 words, the last of which begins with B.
Summary: Watson's a restless sleeper.



Watson’s a restless sleeper. Be a surprise if he weren’t, Afghanistan and all things considered. Human bloody radiator too, it turns out. That’ll be a trial come the summer. If they last that long. Lestrade still can’t quite believe they’ve made it this far.

Right now, he’ll take all the heat he can get. It’s brass monkey weather, and the bedclothes keep migrating to Watson’s side of the bed. Lestrade grabs a fistful of duvet and tugs it back. John makes a whuffling noise of sleepy protest and shoves backwards, pressing his arse distractingly against Lestrade’s cock.

This won’t do; the alarm’s set for 5. Lestrade turns over reluctantly, tugging at the bedclothes again.

“Oi!” John yelps, as Lestrade’s backside makes contact. “Your arse is bloody freezing.”

“Oh yeah?” Lestrade says. “Can’t imagine why. Oh hang on, yes I can, it’s because some thieving sod keeps nicking the duvet.”

“Are you going to arrest me?” John says hopefully. He kisses the back of Lestrade’s neck and gives his cock an exploratory squeeze.

“Not tonight, Josephine,” Lestrade says, removing his hand firmly. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

“Promises, promises – Fucking hell, your feet are like blocks of ice!”

“And whose fault is that?” Lestrade says, pressing them against John’s warm shins. “Stop moaning, Watson, you know you’ve nobody but yourself to blame.”