trashchildren | For Joan

She laughs at his teasing, fully enjoying the banter, even as the pause in his attentions is now making her ache in need.

"No complaints," she says, her tone playfully casual even as her hips shift involuntarily, yearning toward those fingers. "You can keep doing what you were doing if you want." Like she doesn't really care, even if her wetness and heat and yearning tell a much different tale.

"Yeah, I'll consider it," he answers mirroring her tone of playful casualness. He lets the moment drag out just a little bit, giving her just that little bit of touch, just to intensify that yearning and ache.

And then he does return to it, though there's no slow ramp up this time, just immediately giving her the full attention of his mouth.

And then he pulls back again, letting her catch her breath for a moment, as he reaches down to gently stroke himself a bit, biting his lip, making sure his yearning is similarly great. (It is.)

That pause gets her giggling, and with every moment he waits, every moment her yearning intensifies, the giggling grows until she's laughing. And then when his mouth returns to her clit she's laughing and moaning at the same time, her back arched slightly and her head back, reaching down with one trembling hand to touch his hair.

Then he stops, and despite her need being near maddening she's grateful for the moment to catch her breath. She looks down her body at him, and smiles to watch him preparing himself, loving the sight of him touching himself, as well as the sight of that hard cock that shows her he's just as needy as she is.

If there's anything Ted thinks is extremely underappreciated about sex, it's laughing. Regardless of the reason, as long as you're laughing together. Whether it's because something silly or awkward happened, or because you're playing around, or because you're just so happy about being together. Hearing Joan laugh just fills him with joy. Especially when it's mixed with moans of pleasure.

"I love you so much," he says, voice breathy with both affection and arousal. He moves up, needing to kiss her, almost more than he needs to be inside her.

Though he still needs that quite a bit too, so while he kisses her, he reaches down to get into position. And as he thrusts inside her, he moans deeply into her mouth. The sensation is almost overwhelming, and he has to stay there to steady himself, breath shuddering a little.

Joan has never had this much laughter, nor this much joy, in her sex life. Nor in her romantic relationships in general, really. Ted brings it out in her. He makes her so happy, in so many ways.

"I love you too," she responds, gazing into his eyes, her own shining. When he moves up to kiss her she lifts her hands to cup his cheeks, wanting so badly to hold his face as they kiss, even if her fingers tremble with the effort.

Then he thrusts into her, and she moans along with him, the feeling causing her muscles to flutter around his cock, a small orgasm just from the intensity of penetration after being made so sensitive.

"Oh, boy.." he breathes, and then he laughs a little, looking down at her. Both of them flushed and happy and full of pleasure and need. This is probably not going to take very long, so he takes a moment to kiss her, softly and sweetly.

"Remember to think of England," he jokes, feeling silly and mildly delirious with pleasure.

She laughs with him, near delirious herself, and again when he brings back her joke.

"England," she says, smiling mischievously. "Where they call elevators lifts, and apartments flats, and soccer football. Where they eat Marmite of all things, and have a love-hate relationship with the royal family." Her smile warms, and she strokes his cheek. "And most importantly, the home of the man I love."

Ted laughs at her list of things about England. And then when she reaches the last bit, her smile warming, Ted's face couldn't look more adoring. There's practically hearts in his eyes.

He kisses her again, so soft and loving, reaching up to cup her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His heart is so full.

And then he pulls his hips back, and he thrusts firmly into her again, a small moan escaping his lips. And then again, firm but with small a small pause in-between each thrust, basking in the sensation of each one. It feels absolutely incredible.

That kiss is so sweet, and Joan sighs softly into it, touching his cheek, so much in love with this wonderful man.

Then he thrusts into her again and she gasps softly, and the next thrust draws a soft cry. Every single thrust feels amazing, and she keeps her eyes locked on Ted's, their pleasure as intermingled as their moans.

It doesn't take too long before the thrusts get more frequent, a bit less deliberate, as desire starts to take over. He keeps his eyes on hers, though they're half-lidded with pleasure now, and he knows he's close. He slides his hand down to massage her breast again, playing with her nipple, and then pinching it in time with a thrust.

She knows it's coming, and it's perfect, drawing a soft cry from her. Joan wishes there was some little thing like that she knew would drive Ted wild. To the extent her pleasure-suffused brain allows, she resolves to find every little thing that thrills him.

It's tempting to close her eyes and just let the sensation wash over her, but she keeps her eyes open and locked on his, because that connection is what's important, and what takes the pleasure to a whole new level than mere sensation.

"Ted," she pants. "I'm close..."

Ted can only manage to nod, breathing heavily and having trouble forming words, so lost in the pleasure, both hers and his own. He always tries to make her come first - the way her muscles clench around him usually brings him over the edge right after anyway.

But then suddenly he can't hold on any longer, the orgasm rushing through him unexpectedly and thoroughly, and he gasps, his eyes sliding shut despite all effort to keep them open, his face blissful surprise.

The feel of him pulsing inside her, the sound of that gasp, the beautiful look of bliss on his face, all is sufficient to send Joan over the edge as well, and she cries out his name as she comes, her body shuddering with pleasure beneath him, her muscles pulsing on his cock inside her. It's perfect, and she just allows her body to relax completely, her arms coming to rest on the bed, her eyes closed, breathing deep in the warm wash of ecstasy flowing through her.

It seems to last longer than usual, because of how even as he's started, she comes as well, and the sound of his name, the way she tightens, the way he can feel her body shaking underneath him... It's an amazing cascade of sensations, and he manages to open his eyes just in time to see the end of her orgasm and watch her relax into the bed.

He collapses onto his elbows, his body pressed against her but propped up so he doesn't put his full weight on her. He rests his head on her shoulder as he takes a moment to catch his breath, just staying there for a little bit. He feels so warm and pleasant and utterly content.

Her eyes are still closed, and her whole body is warm and comfortable and feels almost boneless. It takes some effort to move her right arm to wrap it around him and rest it on the back of his head, fingers sliding into his hair.

"That was amazing," she whispers.

She's drifting, her body responding to the exertion and the comfort, and she doesn't have sufficient mental cohesion to wonder if Ted might fall asleep too, much less if it's a good idea.

Ted nods a little, nuzzling her neck. "It was," he agrees softly, slightly muffled against her skin.

He absolutely wants to just roll over and take a nap next to her, all cuddled up. He almost does, in a 'just gonna close by eyes for 5 minutes' way, but thankfully he has just enough willpower (not to mention remaining worry) to resist doing that.

So when he does finally roll off her, he sits up and makes sure she's nice and comfy under the covers, and he gives her a kiss, and then he gets up to get cleaned up. He wipes himself off with some tissues, and wraps the condom in them before he tosses it in the trashcan. (He's sure Sherlock will figure out they've had sex, but for his own peace of mind, he doesn't want to be blatant about it.) Then he goes and takes the sock off the door, and he gets dressed. He can help her get dressed after she's had a nap though.

Joan is completely tuckered out. Every bit of strength she had was used up in the best of ways, and now she is sleeping soundly, warm and comfortable and safe and so loved.

Sherlock has been awake for a bit, long enough to be quite cognizant of what is going on in the bedroom. It pleases him that Watson and Ted are having sex, as it will be a good source of stress relief for them both. Once the sounds have ceased, Sherlock waits for the amount of time it would take for Ted to clean up and get dressed (he knows Watson is likely conked out from the effort). Then he gets up, goes to the room, and softly knocks on the door.

Ted's had just about enough time to sit back down next to Joan and grab his laptop when Sherlock knocks on the door. He glances down at Joan just to make sure she's properly covered (she looks very comfortably snuggled up). He did also make sure that her clothes weren't strewn around.

"Come on in," he answers, once he's established it's safe, hopefully quiet enough not to wake her, but loud enough for Sherlock to hear.

Sherlock enters as quietly as possible so as to not disturb Watson. Ted has tidied up, but Sherlock can still smell sex, still see the subtle changes in Ted's body language and demeanor that indicate a recent orgasm. He manages not to say anything.

"I am awake, if you would like to rest. Alternately, I could make us smoothies for breakfast, if you wish. And for Watson when she wakes. She will also need her medication shortly. As will you, I believe."

Ted is incredibly grateful that Sherlock lets it go unremarked. It's better for everyone involved to let it be an open secret. If nothing else, he'd be able to tell by Joan not wearing her jersey anymore.

"Yeah, smoothies sounds great," he answers with a smile. "Shaun will be coming by soon though, so you'll need to keep her company if she's still asleep."

He appreciates the reminder about medication, though this time he hadn't forgotten, thankfully.

Sherlock still thinks it silly to be so secretive about what is a biological need, but he respects Ted and Watson enough to let them be silly if they wish.

Sherlock looks at Watson for a moment, observing the depth of her breath and the movement of her eyes behind the lids. "If we manage to not wake her, she should sleep for at least an hour, probably two. When is your physical therapist coming?"

Well you don't just magically stop being silly about something like that overnight. And it is low on his list of things to work on right now.

Ted looks down at his laptop to check the time. "About an hour," he answers. He'd enjoy Joan meeting him, but he doesn't think it's important enough to wake her.

Sherlock nods. "If Watson is still sleeping I would be quite happy to watch over her. In the meantime, I will make smoothies for you and me. Is there anything else you require?"

"Not right now no, thanks, Sherlock," he answers with a grateful smile. "Ooh, I'll text you a recipe," he adds, reaching for his phone. He did order groceries specifically with some recipes in mind, so might as well share it. He assumes following instructions will make it a lot simpler.

Sherlock gets the text, and follows the recipe mostly to the letter, although he adds in pineapple in order to give just a hint of sour to the otherwise sweet concoction. He pours out three glasses and puts one in the fridge before carrying the other two to the bedroom. He offers one to Ted.

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