Sexting Sherlock [Sherstrade One-Shot] [Student/Teacher]

Sexting Sherlock

"Oh my God, guys! C'mon. Right, which one of you dick's decided to do this, hm?" Greg looks round at the small group of people sat at the table, holding his phone up for them to see.

Why he called these people his friends, Greg will never understand.

Currently, they're all sat in the small pub like they do every Friday night after they all get out of work for the week. Each man has his chosen poison in front of himself and all of them are looking at Greg with confused eyes. Minus one.

Opposite Greg sits his opposite. A short man with tossed brown hair, unwise green eyes and perfect features that looked like he'd been pulled out of a modelling magazine and sat at their table. He was sitting forward and grinning at Greg like he'd won a prize.

"Ronnie..." Greg sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He looks down at his phone is despair. "One or two, fair enough. But all of them? That's a bit far, mate, and these names are ridiculous"

Ronnie shrugs his small shoulders, bringing his drink to his lips. "Oops" He murmurs innocently before he drinks.

In absolutely no mood to fight or argue, Greg slumps and clicks a few things on his phone to begin a new message.

Hello. This is Greg Lestrade. All my contacts have been changed by a friend who thought it'd be amusing. Who is this?

He then clicks on 'send to All Contacts'.

To be fair, he only had around twenty contacts. Five of which are the men sitting here with him. As the thought crosses his mind, all the men's phone beep or buzz to inform them of the new message.

Taking pity on their tired friend who'd had a long week teaching seventeen to nineteen year olds about the law, they send a reply message to tell Greg know what contact they were. For the next fifteen minutes, Greg's phone goes off like crazy as people reply to him so he can change their contact names back too.

Two hours pass and there's a few numbers that still have their 'funny' changed names. Greg sighs, not bothering to text any of the numbers again before he drinks the last mouthful of his pint and bids his friend's a good night.

This week had been more intense than usual. Ofsted were in, so naturally the teacher's were all high strung and being the head of the Law Studies department, Greg's lessons were observed more than once. And being the little gits they are, his students were no help at all during any of the lessons he was assessed.

When he enters his cold and lonely flat, Greg immediately kicks off his shoes and turns up the heating as he passed the thermostat. Within another five minutes, Greg has stripped down to his boxer shorts and climbed into his bed.

A sigh leaves his lips and his eyes droop before his head had even come in contact with his pillow.

Unfortunately, just as Greg thinks he's about to slip off into dream land, his phone gives a loud ping! from it's position on the bed side table. Groaning in frustration, Greg rolls over and snatches the phone up.

New Message from Sexy Little Tart.

"Very original, Ronnie" Greg murmurs sarcastically.

When Greg unlocks his phone and clicks on the message, he almost groans again. Whoever this was clearly wasn't in the mood to just answer his question and leave it at that. So instead of a name, Greg had a message that reads: What's my contact name now?