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fic: A Burst Pipe Problem

Title: A Burst Pipe Problem
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing(s): John/Lestrade, implied Sherlock/Lestrade.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: some sexual content and swearing, but no warnings as such
Wordcount: ~1500
Disclaimer: They're still not mine.
Summary: The thing about mulled wine, Lestrade remembers too late, is that it's a great loosener of inhibitions.  All the same, he wasn't expecting Christmas at 221b to turn out quite like this.
A/N: Thank you to the amazing ginbitch for the beta!  This was written as a Secret Santa gift for m_steelgrave at 221b_slash_fest.  Loads of good fic over there, not all of it Christmassy - check it out! 
I hope it's not bad luck to put your Christmas fics up after Twelfth Night, but I couldn't do it before...



A Burst Pipe Problem

You can't get a plumber on Christmas Eve for love or money, and Lestrade had tried both. The cute young man from Boys On Tap sounded tempted by the offer of a drink and a shag, but he was up to his elbows like all the rest. No-one available till at least the 27th to deal with a burst pipe.

When John Watson rang, Lestrade didn’t think twice. He and Watson still weren't exactly friends, though they mostly got on OK. But the prospect of Christmas in Baker Street was a fuck of a lot more attractive than his uninhabitable flat.

Sherlock wouldn't be there, of course: spending Christmas with Mummy and Mycroft. Lestrade had put his foot in it, saying he was surprised John wasn’t invited.

“For fuck's sake, why does everyone think we’re a couple?” Watson exploded. “I  don't do blokes, and Sherlock doesn't do anyone as far as I can see, never has.”

Lestrade knew the last bit wasn’t true, but sometimes it’s best to keep your trap shut. That thing with Sherlock was all a long time ago now.

“And anyway,” Watson finished, furiously, “he's not my type!”

Odd for someone who doesn't do blokes to have a type, Lestrade thought, wondering what John’s type was if not Sherlock. Probably never find out, though. Man like that has far too many inhibitions ever to let his guard down.


The thing about mulled wine, Lestrade remembers too late, is that it's a great loosener of inhibitions. Even so, he wasn’t expecting Christmas at 221b to turn out quite like this.


The night before Christmas hadn't been the most comfortable he'd ever spent; but the sofa was bearable and certainly safer than Sherlock's bed. John had brought him tea in the morning, which was nice – long time since anyone did that. And then they'd both set to, preparing sprouts and parsnips and potatoes, roasting the chicken (no point in a turkey for two people, especially since Sherlock didn’t eat leftovers on principle) and arguing about bread sauce (rival family traditions – Lestrade could have told him that stuff wasn't going to ackle). Christmas lunch had gone surprisingly well and they'd settled down to watch TV with a sense of achievement and a pleasant afterglow.

Then, two minutes into the Queen's Speech, the power went off. No TV, no lights, and no central heating. Fuck. Someone up there really didn't want Lestrade to have a merry Christmas, did they?

Still, takes more than a power cut to floor the British Army. Or indeed the Met. Watson and Lestrade, veteran campers both, soon had the 221b fireplace back in use, burning apple-wood logs (and sod the Clean Air Act). Lit all the candles they could find, even if some of them looked like Sherlock had been using them for experiments. Once the fire was blazing they’d got a batch of mulled wine on the go (used the poker, very Dickensian). Turned out well. Turned out very well, in fact, and when it's that nice you don't always remember to stop after the first glass.

They hadn't remembered to stop after the first glass.

And then they’d got bored with having nothing to do.

Apart from dealing with Sherlock’s increasingly annoying text messages, that is. It wasn’t John and Lestrade's fault Sherlock wanted to kill Mycroft by now (it was teatime on Christmas Day, after all). If a grown man couldn’t get it together to say he wasn’t “coming home for Christmas”, John said bitterly, he deserved everything he got.

“You're missing him,” Lestrade said incautiously.

“Shut up,” John said, going a bit red. “I'm not the one who fancies him.”

“Fuck off,” Lestrade said, going red in his turn.

An awkward silence.

“Fancy a game of cards?” Lestrade asked. “Board game, even?” Clutching at straws now.

No playing-cards anywhere, apparently.

“Only Scrabble,” John said disgustedly.

Naturally the Holmes brothers have their own twisted version of this, which John always loses by miles.



Afterwards John says that playing dirty-word Scrabble was Lestrade's idea and Lestrade says it was John's. One of many things they don't agree on. John claims Lestrade made up that rule about foreign words being allowed and Lestrade says he's never played a game of dirty-word Scrabble where you can't use those. Not his fault John didn't take advantage of his foreign travels to widen his vocabulary. And just rude to accuse Lestrade of inventing that Hungarian word for frottage.

Next thing you know, Lestrade has got John by the scruff of the neck, saying “Take that back or else”, and John is grabbing his wrists and saying “Gerroff” and “You and whose army?”, and then they're rolling around on the sofa, laughing and swearing, scuffling like a couple of overgrown kids.

And then John kisses Lestrade.

For a man who doesn't do blokes, he's a bloody enthusiastic kisser. Free with his hands, too, yanking Lestrade's shirt clear of his trousers. Lestrade gasps as warm fingers and cool air hit his bare skin.

Right. Two can play at that game. Lestrade kisses John deliberately, slowly, teasing his lips with his tongue and then probing, invading, making John moan and arch his back. Lestrade pulls away, tantalizing him, and strokes his thumb across John's mouth. John nips at him and then yelps as Lestrade's other hand gropes his cock roughly through his trousers.

“You are so going to get it,” Lestrade says.

John tries to shove his hands down the back of Lestrade's trousers. Fails.

“Oh for crying out loud!” Lestrade says, undoing them himself.

Doesn't say anything coherent for a while after that because John's hands stroking and squeezing his arse feel so good they should probably be illegal.

They don’t hear the next half-dozen texts from Sherlock come in, which isn’t surprising. Making too much noise. They’ll catch up with all that later. Deal with the fallout, too.

Right now, though, there’s nothing in the world but two bodies ravenously taking their pleasure from each other, a sweaty slippery greedy tangle of limbs. Hands gripping, sliding, stroking, teasing, urging. Mouths licking, sucking, biting; the scrape of teeth against a jaw or a collarbone, the rasp of stubble against lips already swollen from prolonged desperate kissing. Unbearable arousal, delicious friction, gasping, groaning. Faces lost and changed, gone frantic, animal. On the edge of collapse, everything gathering and bursting. Shattered. Gone.

Lestrade comes back to himself in pieces, dizzy and confused, in a blaze of light and sound.

A voice that isn’t his or John’s is saying “That was A-MA-ZING!” Which is fair comment, but what the fuck...?

“Oh God, it’s Strictly Come Dancing,” John groans.

Right. The power’s come back on. Explains a lot.

“Do you think we’ll get a 10 for that?” Lestrade asks.

“I should bloody well hope so,” John says, his hands burrowing under Lestrade’s thighs.

“Stop it!” Lestrade says, giggling feebly.

“Looking for the remote,” John explains.

“I think it fell on the floor,” Lestrade says. “You could just get up and switch it off.”

You get up and switch it off, if your legs are working,” John says. “Mine aren’t, just now.”

Lestrade kisses him again, then leans over to retrieve the remote, nearly falling off the sofa in the process.

“Dizzy,” he complains.

“Whose fault is that?” John says.

“Yours, I think,” Lestrade says, switching the TV off.

“Mm,” John says luxuriously, sprawling across Lestrade’s chest. “God, that was good.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Lestrade says.

“Bloody marvellous,” says John.

Lestrade strokes his hair and John sighs contentedly.

“Going to change your mind about doing blokes then?” Lestrade teases him.

“Might do,” John says. “Taking it one bloke at a time, see how I go. Ow. Don’t pull my hair like that, you brute! It’s my first time, you’re supposed to be nice to me afterwards.”

“Cheeky sod,” Lestrade says. “So am I your type?”

John looks up at him, and Lestrade catches his breath at John’s expression - happy, but also vulnerable and tentative, like he doesn't quite believe he's going to say this.

“I think you must be,” John says. “Am I yours?”

“I didn’t think you were,” Lestrade says, because he can’t lie about it. “But I think I was wrong.”


“Heating’s come back on again,” John says. “Do you fancy going to bed for a bit?”

“That would be nice,” Lestrade says, rather breathlessly.

John’s phone beeps again. They look at each other for a moment, uncertainly. Has to be Sherlock.

“Deal with that later,” John says firmly, shoving the phone under the Union Jack cushion. “Bed first.”

“OK,” Lestrade says. “If you’re very good, I’ll teach you some more new vocabulary.”

“Fine,” John says. “How do you say fuck me harder in Hungarian?”

“You have to work up to that one,” Lestrade says. “But you’re a quick learner, so I expect you’ll soon get the hang of it.”

Comments

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kalypso_v
Jan. 7th, 2011 03:13 pm (UTC)
I do like Lestrade's approach to hiring a plumber. Though I think he was better off with John, even if the bread sauce went wrong, because I'm sure the Strictly judge was quite right.

I'm awfully curious to know what Sherlock made of things when he got back.
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 06:11 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! I think Lestrade was better off with John as well.

in my first draft I had a string of increasingly suspicious and pissed-off texts from Sherlock but I couldn't fit them into the word limit. that's not to say that pissed-off is the only reaction he could have had to this development: I read one fic by sarren called Common Interest where Sherlock's quite pleased that Lestrade and John get together because Lestrade won't distract John from cases the way Sarah would...
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aynslee
Jan. 7th, 2011 03:41 pm (UTC)
That was really funny, and sweet! It's so interesting how Sherlock is such a presence for both of them, even when he's gone. Which I find accurate; he's a presence to me too, LOL. :D Lovely fic -- I really enjoyed it. :D
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 06:16 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! yes, he is, isn't he? even when sulking by text rather than in person... very glad you enjoyed it.
thimpressionist
Jan. 7th, 2011 06:44 pm (UTC)
You do sweet and funny (and hot!) like no one else. “Do you think we’ll get a 10 for that?” Lestrade asks They had better!

It’s my first time, you’re supposed to be nice to me afterwards This made me giggle madly.

Also, I can probably turn the heat down.
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 06:47 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! that's a lovely comment. *blushes and squeaks*

I increasingly like these two together, though I am fickle in my pairings. well, it would feel wrong to me to confine the glory that is Lestrade to any one lover...
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2ndskin
Jan. 7th, 2011 07:11 pm (UTC)
mmmmmmm! UNF to the nth (love the pacing!) plus so many funny lines! Shame on Lestrade for bribing plumbers with sex! (I'm sure it usually works, though) love that they got some cooking in first--giving them the stamina for several more bouts before Sherlock gets home . . . love the little Scrabble fight . . . and scoring for the "dance"! and--I agree that John was seducing L the whole time. He's such a slut in mild-mannered disguise. Looking forward to perhaps seeing Sherlock come home and sniff out the truth. Knowing you, he'll join them for round three or four . . . ;-)
(please notice how I'm repressing all my urges to be angry with John for seducing Mycroft's boyfriend--actively pushing that right out of my mind for the sake of your fiction)
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 07:16 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! *beams*

I had a lot of fun writing this, apart from wrestling with the pesky word limit.

if Mystrade existed in this story I don't think Lestrade could have a burst pipe problem for longer than it took him to mention it to Mycroft - or indeed Mycroft would have the thing fixed before Lestrade had even mentioned it!
(no subject) - kalypso_v - Jan. 7th, 2011 08:43 pm (UTC) - Expand
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megan_moonlight
Jan. 7th, 2011 07:19 pm (UTC)
OMG, that was exactly what I needed right now XDDD

Poor Sherlock must have feel very ignored, but well, John and Lestrade need some time for themselves ;D
Bloody marvellous! You deserve lots of hugs for this!

And now the only thing that could be better it'd be Sherlock finding them sleeping and waking them up XDDD
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 07:25 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! very glad you enjoyed it.

hmm, plotbunnies. now how do we think Sherlock would wake them up...?
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greenhoodloxley
Jan. 7th, 2011 09:39 pm (UTC)
I think that was a very nice Christmas after all. I'm sure Lestrade doesn't mind about the pipes. Not really. ;)
fengirl88
Jan. 7th, 2011 09:46 pm (UTC)
yes, it turned out well for him - and the plumber will fix the pipes eventually! meanwhile, he can share John's bed instead of having to sleep on the sofa, which is an improvement...
ginbitch
Jan. 8th, 2011 01:03 am (UTC)
YAY! Loved betaing this, loved re-reading it even more!!

Pure joy throughout!

<3
fengirl88
Jan. 8th, 2011 01:13 am (UTC)
thank you so much - and thank you again for betaing!

*whirls you around excitedly*
chaosmaster
Jan. 8th, 2011 05:14 am (UTC)
And just rude to accuse Lestrade of inventing that Hungarian word for frottage.

Ooooh. I know a Hungarian. I might have to ask him the proper term for this. In case I ever find myself in the middle of a dirty-word Scrabble tourney. (You just know I'm going to suggest this at the next games night.)

Though, as I come to think of it, I might not know the Hungarian quite well enough to ask. I'll send my ex. Everyone questions his team affiliations anyway. That should get the rumor mill going and lead into a delightful game of d-w-S.

Yay! You give me pr0n *and* plots! :D
fengirl88
Jan. 8th, 2011 02:42 pm (UTC)
*giggles*

thank you very much! I'm betting it has a Z in it...

hope your plots turn out well - and please tell us what you find out!
turante
Jan. 8th, 2011 09:43 am (UTC)
:D
I never suspected this was yours, but I loved it on the secret santa...
(I was so sure I had commented, but apparently my phone doesn't want to post comments.. ç_ç)
Lovely, really funny and so cute!
And do I have to say that you make this pairing really, really work?

*kiss*
fengirl88
Jan. 8th, 2011 02:43 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! I'm so glad you liked it. *beams*

I'm getting very fond of the two of them...
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rusty_armour
Jan. 8th, 2011 11:15 pm (UTC)
I know I read this at the time, but I think I failed to comment. This story is funny, clever and incredibly HOT! You've got some brilliant lines, such as these ones:

Once the fire was blazing they’d got a batch of mulled wine on the go used the poker, very Dickensian). Turned out well. Turned out very well, in fact, and when it's that nice you don't always remember to stop after the first glass.

They hadn't remembered to stop after the first glass.


I love the idea of John and Lestrade being so desperately bored that they ended up playing dirty-word Scrabble! I wonder if Lestrade suggested it just so that he could use that Hungarian word for "frottage"! *g* I also got a kick out of them ignoring Sherlock's many texts and that voice saying “That was A-MA-ZING!” after the power returned and they had just finished having sex.
fengirl88
Jan. 8th, 2011 11:29 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! very glad you enjoyed it. *beams*

it wouldn't surprise me at all if Lestrade suggested it for that reason...

I assume the voice is that of Craig Revel Horwood, one of the Strictly judges - he does say "amazing" like that when he says it (which isn't often)!

*beams at your appropriate icon*
(Deleted comment)
fengirl88
Jan. 9th, 2011 10:15 pm (UTC)
thank you! very glad you enjoyed this so much. I had written it before the pirate talk fic, but couldn't mention it then as it was a secret santa... I like them as a couple as well, which I never thought I would at first.

*hugs*
mariole
Jan. 11th, 2011 04:33 am (UTC)
So very cute! You won my heart with the scenario, and especially with this:

> just rude to accuse Lestrade of inventing that Hungarian word for frottage.

I just lost Scrabble to my niece twice in a row. *sympathizes*
fengirl88
Jan. 11th, 2011 01:07 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! very glad you enjoyed it. *beams*

I haven't played Scrabble for a long time, but always used to lose because I'd get distracted by interesting words rather than working out what would score most...
darthhellokitty
Jan. 11th, 2011 10:26 pm (UTC)
Oh, this is great! Hot and crazy!

Oh ho, Lestrade knows something about Sherlock that John doesn't... I wonder if John's going to find out? :-) I love Lestrade's suspicion about John being straight, and yet having a "type" in guys...

especially since Sherlock didn’t eat leftovers on principle

LITTLE WONDER considering what he keeps in the fridge! XD

I love how just goofing around being bored leads to scrabble, which leads to HOT SEX.

Which leads to “That was A-MA-ZING!” Which it was!

“You have to work up to that one,” Lestrade says. “But you’re a quick learner, so I expect you’ll soon get the hang of it.”

HAH! I don't doubt that for a minute...

(I worried that the last few texts they ignored were something like "escaped Mummy, home in ten minutes"!)

Excellent fic! Plus, it reminds me I bought some foam to put on the pipes in the basement so that doesn't happen here, because it's not 221b that we'd end up taking refuge in... so down I go...
fengirl88
Jan. 11th, 2011 10:37 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! I kept worrying while I was away for Christmas that I'd come home to burst pipes as a cosmic punishment for visiting them on Lestrade, though I do think it turned out quite nicely for him... *grins*

I hadn't thought about why Sherlock doesn't eat leftovers but you are quite right that it would be dangerous!

in the original draft I had a string of increasingly suspicious and grumpy texts from Sherlock working out what must be going on as John wasn't answering his messages, but I had to cut them out because of the word limit.

hadn't thought of continuing this, but it is tempting, particularly given megan_moonlight's suggestions and kalypso_v's comment!fic...
et_cetera55
Jan. 14th, 2011 09:09 pm (UTC)
Finally getting chance to read the secret santa fics.
This is wonderful! It's always good to see some Lestrade/John but you write it so well, it's just fantastic. I esp love the scrabble game!
fengirl88
Jan. 14th, 2011 09:18 pm (UTC)
*blushes and squeaks*

thank you so much! when I first started writing Sherlock fic I could only see them as rivals, but I increasingly like the idea of them together.
samjohnsson
Apr. 10th, 2011 09:17 pm (UTC)
Wonder how John is at plumbing, see if he can get the original deal Lestrade was shopping for.

Very nice imagery and believable, so score!
fengirl88
Apr. 10th, 2011 09:29 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! glad you enjoyed it. don't know about John's plumbing skills, but I can imagine he's good at most practical things...
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