The Workings of Two Dorky Sherlockians

we are just this cool.

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A John Sandwich on Sherlock Bread Topped With Crazy Science Shit Because Reasons

3


Well fuck. How do you answer something like that? He stuttered out an uncertain “What?”

 

Mirrored annoyance flashed across both Sherlocks’ faces before it was replaced with a look of slightly condescending, ‘aww-isn’t-he-adorable’ understanding.

 

“Well,” one of them said. “I think we may need to help him out a bit—give him some data to observe. That way he can make an informed decision.”

 

The other’s grin widened. Good lord, they looked like a pair of demons sent to tempt him into sin. It was both intimidating and—heavenly.

 

It was at that moment that that he finally found out what they meant by ‘data to observe’.

 

The two Sherlocks pulled each other into a sloppy kiss.

 

Besides being incredibly arousing, it was really quite entertaining to watch the two detectives fight over control in the kiss, each just as dominating and stubborn as the other.

 

The original glanced over at John as his clone closed his eyes, but Sherlock’s attention was quickly turned back to his own body, his hand moving to the back of his double’s neck and threading through his hair. He gave a small tug and felt a puff of air against his mouth, his clone seeming to crumble under his touch and giving a quiet whimper.

 

John had never thought that someone like Sherlock would be capable of making a sound that helpless and hopeful and needy, and he certainly had never thought he’d be able to hear it in person.

 

Wait, make that in person in surround sound, because the clone was regaining his spine and had tugged his Sherlock’s hips, grinding them together and earning a low groan.

 

“Whoa, hey, hang on a second.” It was all going too fast for John. Both Sherlocks opened their eyes lazily, half-lidded with pupils blown so wide that their irises were thin strips around the edges. They continued with their mouths, the original Sherlock’s leg moving between those of his clones, perching him halfway up his thigh and grind him down, forcing him to break the kiss and let his head fall back in pleasure, eyes closed.

 

John forgot what he had been about to say.

 

And though the clone’s eyes were shut tight, his Sherlock kept his eyes on John. Kept his smouldering gaze on him even as he smoothed his hand down to cup the growing hardness beneath the loose jeans Molly had fetched for the clone.

 

John heard himself gasp along with the clone, who looked up at him with those eerily familiar eyes.

 

“You can touch yourself if you want, John. We won’t mind,” the clone purred.

 

John realized his mouth was open. He closed it abruptly. He tried to say something but no words came out. He slumped into a chair conveniently placed behind him and debated whether or not he should unzip his pants while those two were watching.

 

They seemed to be content with letting him debate with himself, going back to the task at hand. The original leaned forward, moving his lips over his double’s jaw and down to his neck. John felt his breath hitch as the clone muffled a groan.

 

Oh God no. How are you even watching this?


Sherlock had the clone backed against the wall, bringing his leg up and forcing it around his own. His clone was so obviously submitting, and making a damn good show of it. He was giving exaggerated groans when his original began leaving small love bites along his shoulder, hands slipping up his shirt and taking it off.


The original seemed to be enjoying himself as well. The clone was rocking his hips up against him, trying to gain friction but instead getting frustration. The clone’s hands moved down his sides beneath his coat, nails scratching.


“J…” The original began pushing his hips against his double as well, both of them breathing too fast and neither giving in. At the same moment, there was some silent cue, and John watched them suspiciously as their eyes came open hesitantly.


The original Sherlock nuzzled into his clone’s collarbone, biting another mark in as he grabbed his hips, pulling him up and grinding against him harder.


They both looked over at John, who was currently sitting and blushing in a chair, and looking very uncomfortable in a multitude of ways.


Through some unidentifiable power that all Sherlocks apparently had, they both knew exactly when to moan, the sound coming into both of John’s ears and shooting straight to his groin.


John…


Oh fucking hell. Well that got him to finally open his pants.


John fumbled out of his clothing and was welcomed into the sexual frenzy going on before his eyes.


And then he sort of just stood there, not sure what to do. He hadn’t been able to keep up a proper relationship the entire three years Sherlock had been gone, and it wasn’t as though he’d ever been with a man. Or two men.


The Sherlocks grinned, knowing they’d finally broken his patience.


“Well?” The original asked.


“Aren’t you going to join us?” The clone finished for him. John frowned.


“…Yes.” The original grinned harder. That was an expression he certainly wouldn’t get tired of.


“Then join us.” John blushed, closing his eyes tightly. Maybe if he just pretended he wasn’t here…


“Fuck you.” His voice surprised himself. Damn you Sherlock, for making me wait like this. For embarrassing me like this, for teasing me like this.


His Sherlock pecked his clone on the lips before setting him down, moving to John instead.


“It’s okay,” he whispered, mouth moving to lick over his ear. “We’ll show you.”

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