BBC Sherlock fic: Everyone Loves Mycroft
Title: Everyone Loves Mycroft
Pairing(s): Mycroft/Lestrade, Mycroft/Sally Donovan, Mycroft/Anderson, Mycroft/Molly, Mycroft/Dimmock.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM one part. A bit cracky.
Word count: 1745
A/N: Written for this prompt: Mycroft/Anderson, Mycroft/Sally. Turned into Mycroft/Everyone. You know, I swore I'd never write one of those 5+1 things. And here I am. I'm a bloody hypocrite.
I. Lestrade
Greg Lestrade had never slept with a man before, and he was pretty sure after this he'd never sleep with one again. But sometimes you have to do things just that once, even if they are out of your comfort zone, just so you can look back on your life and say, "Yeah, I've done that."
No strings. That was what he was promised. Curiosity satisfied and nothing but memories. Greg wasn't sure he totally believed that part. Not when Mycroft was involved.
"Shhh," Mycroft whispered into his ear. "You are over thinking things."
"That's your job," Greg murmured back with a chuckle. Then Mycroft moved again, and that burning, over-filled-but-yet-still-needy feeling intensified. It was hard to think of anything else but the careful way Mycroft's hand slid over his slick cock and the rocking pressure inside him that made everything Just. So. God, oh God.
And then it was over, except for the gasping breaths and the heady afterglow. As Mycroft leaned down to kiss his cheek, his ear, he let out a little laugh.
"Sherlock is going to hate me for this."
"Only if you tell him," said Mycroft smiling.
II. Sally
No one had ever taken her to the ballet before. She'd had a few videos as a child and had taken classes. But the actual ballet - with the £80 seats and world famous dancers flitting across the stage like they were feathers floating in the wind. No. So bloody beautiful.
"How did you know," she asked Mycroft as he lowered the zip on her most flattering, most expensive black dress. His fingers traced the line of her bare spine and made her thighs suddenly shudder and her belly tingle. "I've been dreaming of that for years but I never told anyone. How did you know?"
Mycroft hummed. She could feel him smiling. Then she felt his lips on her shoulder blade, a soft kiss that told her to stop blathering on. This was a gift horse, this was.
Hullo, Freak, I'm shagging your brother. She laughed.
The catch on her bra released and her nipples started tingling in expectation. Sure enough, Mycroft slid his hands under her dress, lifting the underwires away to cup her breasts. His hands were so warm. The pressure, just perfect.
"Try not to gloat too much about this to my brother," said Mycroft.
She was about to feel defensive, but then Mycroft started nibbling her ear lobe and she forgot what she was thinking about.
III. Anderson
This man's seduction technique is truly amazing, Anderson thought. I should take notes. Really, everything he did seemed perfectly geared to getting him in bed. From the oh-so-casual discussion outside the crime scene that just so happened to segue to Anderson's hobbies, to the offer to take the discussion to the pub, to finally ending up at Mycroft's opulent flat, where he just so happened to have some actual dinosaur fossils on display.
"May I touch it," Anderson asked with reverence.
"Gently. It's very old."
"Of course," He ran his finger down a pterodactyl femur. "Incredible. This should be in a museum."
Mycroft reached an arm around him to touch the bone as well, and as if by chance his finger met the side of Anderson's hand. Anderson breathed in and smelled Mycroft's cologne and the sharper smell of interest. His entire body became aware of their positions, him leaning forward over the table, Mycroft standing just behind. It was a vulnerable position. One with possibilities.
Anderson had slept with men before. Not many. Enough to know some of these moves. Enough to have done them himself.
Mycroft's hand slid over his, then moved up his arm to his shoulder, then squeezed. "You know where this is going, don't you," he said softly.
"For a couple of hours," admitted Anderson. "You aren't really interested in dinosaurs are you?"
"Not to the extent you are, but yes, I am. They ruled the Earth for a very long time. As such, I find them … intriguing."
"You know that it's an office joke about me and dinosaurs. I just like them as a hobby, not a turn on. I mean, how would that even work."
"Yes, I already know, Tommy."
"How did you know - no one uses my--" said Anderson.
"I know everything about you." Mycroft slid an arm around his waist. "And I know it's time to move this on." The hand reached down and cupped him through his trousers, stroking his hardening manhood.
Anderson spun around and kissed him. He wanted it to be a surprise, show that himself for the take-charge kind of bloke that he was. But if it took Mycroft off guard, the man adjusted fast enough. Mycroft caught him up in that position, took his kiss, commanded and deepened it.
By mutual decision they decided that the sitting room rug was as good a place as any. Anderson wasn't surprised that Mycroft had condoms and lube stuffed in his pocket. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to let someone else take the lead, he thought.
IV. Molly
"Oh look at this handsome fellow," she knelt down to coo over the puppy. The excited pup jumped up and down and tangled himself in his lead in his eagerness to be petted. "Look at you! Look at you!" She ran her hand over his bristly fur. Then she looked up into Mycroft's eyes. "He's beautiful. How old is he?"
"Eight months," said Mycroft. "He belonged to a good friend of mine who just succumbed to cancer."
Molly stood up, her eyes practically glowing. "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss."
Mycroft nodded, his face grew sad. "It was expected. Tobi here made his last months better, but his job is done. He needs a new home. I was wondering if you knew anyone who could take him on."
"You mean you don't want him yourself?"
"I'm afraid I'm far too busy to keep a dog. They need someone who will love and take care of them. Put them first. They need someone loyal and caring and trustworthy. That's why I thought of you."
He reached down and petted the dog, who was now so frantic with pleasure his tail appeared to be wagging the rest of his body.
"Oh, then, I'll take him," said Molly. "Of course I will. He's a sweetie-pie!"
"If you care to come with me, we can walk him back to my place. I can gather up his things. I'm afraid I rather over indulged him with toys." He paused, "Unless of course, you are busy. In which case we can do this another time."
Molly's eyes were round with joy. Her heart hammered. "I was meaning to go to Tescos, but that can wait."
Mycroft held out his arm to her, and Molly, let out a little squeak as she took it. She could feel her face turning a bit pink, and down below she felt a little pleasant tension. My goodness Mycroft was so charming, she thought.
Two hours later she'd forgotten all about Tobi, even though occasionally she could hear him clicking about on the hardwood floors outside the closed door to Mycroft's bedroom. Her hands were buried in short soft hair, while Mycroft's head nodded between her thighs and his tongue brought her to orgasm for the third time.
This was the best day ever.
V. Dimmock
"You are a dirty boy," the man growled in his ear. "Take your punishment."
Dimmock tensed in anticipation of the paddle. Then it came with all the cathartic release of pain and heat and pressure. His erection slapped against his leather chaps as his hips bent under the blow. This man was strong. He was going to walk funny tomorrow for sure.
"Thank you, sir," he gasped, feeling the tears welling up and threatening to spill over his cheeks.
"You let Lestrade beat you again, didn't you. His record is better than yours, and it always will be. Do you know why?"
The sound of the spank rang in his ears. Oh, god it hurt. He was bruising, definitely.
"Yes, Sir. I'm stupid. I'm arrogant. I make assumptions I shouldn't."
"You need to be humbled."
"Yes, sir."
The next blow was certainly humbling. Tears flowed freely down Dimmock's face. Oh god, he needed this. It hurt so bad.
"You let Sherlock show you up again, didn't you? He took two seconds and saw twenty things you missed. Important things. You should have seen them, boy."
"Yes, I should have. Punish me. I need to learn." He felt Mycroft's hands over his heated flesh, stroking the sensitive, injured buttocks.
Then the touch was gone and the paddle came, and everything went away again. The job, the stress, the need to be best. He was in the moment, in the BDSM club, with a new dom who somehow knew everything about him. Knew everything he needed.
"Very good," murmured Mycroft, reaching forward and giving his cock a tug. Dimmock came so hard his legs gave way and nothing but the ropes around his wrists kept him from falling to the rubber matted floor.
-I. John
"That's enough, Mycroft," said Sherlock. "I draw the line."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Mycroft letting himself settle more comfortably in the cushions of John's favorite chair. "What gives you the idea that I'm out to seduce John."
"Because it's what you do, you man-whore," said Sherlock. "It's some sort of weird game for you. You seduce everyone in my life. Friends. Enemies. People I barely know. I can't fathom why you do it. And no-" he said preemptively. "I don't want to know either. It's your randy libido, it's your problem."
"Then why are you even discussing it?"
"Because John is mine and I'm not going to let you do it to him."
"I haven't made a move on him," said Mycroft innocently.
"And you won't," said Sherlock. "Promise."
Mycroft's face settled into annoyance. "I really don't think -"
"Promise." There was a sound of footsteps faintly outside the door. The man of the hour was coming.
Reluctantly Mycroft nodded. "Very well. He's all yours."
The door opened and John stepped in. He looked from Sherlock to Mycroft. "Oh, hello again."
Mycroft looked John over with palpable longing, then grabbed his umbrella and headed to the door. As it shut he heard John's voice.
"What was that about?"
Pairing(s): Mycroft/Lestrade, Mycroft/Sally Donovan, Mycroft/Anderson, Mycroft/Molly, Mycroft/Dimmock.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM one part. A bit cracky.
Word count: 1745
A/N: Written for this prompt: Mycroft/Anderson, Mycroft/Sally. Turned into Mycroft/Everyone. You know, I swore I'd never write one of those 5+1 things. And here I am. I'm a bloody hypocrite.
I. Lestrade
Greg Lestrade had never slept with a man before, and he was pretty sure after this he'd never sleep with one again. But sometimes you have to do things just that once, even if they are out of your comfort zone, just so you can look back on your life and say, "Yeah, I've done that."
No strings. That was what he was promised. Curiosity satisfied and nothing but memories. Greg wasn't sure he totally believed that part. Not when Mycroft was involved.
"Shhh," Mycroft whispered into his ear. "You are over thinking things."
"That's your job," Greg murmured back with a chuckle. Then Mycroft moved again, and that burning, over-filled-but-yet-still-needy feeling intensified. It was hard to think of anything else but the careful way Mycroft's hand slid over his slick cock and the rocking pressure inside him that made everything Just. So. God, oh God.
And then it was over, except for the gasping breaths and the heady afterglow. As Mycroft leaned down to kiss his cheek, his ear, he let out a little laugh.
"Sherlock is going to hate me for this."
"Only if you tell him," said Mycroft smiling.
II. Sally
No one had ever taken her to the ballet before. She'd had a few videos as a child and had taken classes. But the actual ballet - with the £80 seats and world famous dancers flitting across the stage like they were feathers floating in the wind. No. So bloody beautiful.
"How did you know," she asked Mycroft as he lowered the zip on her most flattering, most expensive black dress. His fingers traced the line of her bare spine and made her thighs suddenly shudder and her belly tingle. "I've been dreaming of that for years but I never told anyone. How did you know?"
Mycroft hummed. She could feel him smiling. Then she felt his lips on her shoulder blade, a soft kiss that told her to stop blathering on. This was a gift horse, this was.
Hullo, Freak, I'm shagging your brother. She laughed.
The catch on her bra released and her nipples started tingling in expectation. Sure enough, Mycroft slid his hands under her dress, lifting the underwires away to cup her breasts. His hands were so warm. The pressure, just perfect.
"Try not to gloat too much about this to my brother," said Mycroft.
She was about to feel defensive, but then Mycroft started nibbling her ear lobe and she forgot what she was thinking about.
III. Anderson
This man's seduction technique is truly amazing, Anderson thought. I should take notes. Really, everything he did seemed perfectly geared to getting him in bed. From the oh-so-casual discussion outside the crime scene that just so happened to segue to Anderson's hobbies, to the offer to take the discussion to the pub, to finally ending up at Mycroft's opulent flat, where he just so happened to have some actual dinosaur fossils on display.
"May I touch it," Anderson asked with reverence.
"Gently. It's very old."
"Of course," He ran his finger down a pterodactyl femur. "Incredible. This should be in a museum."
Mycroft reached an arm around him to touch the bone as well, and as if by chance his finger met the side of Anderson's hand. Anderson breathed in and smelled Mycroft's cologne and the sharper smell of interest. His entire body became aware of their positions, him leaning forward over the table, Mycroft standing just behind. It was a vulnerable position. One with possibilities.
Anderson had slept with men before. Not many. Enough to know some of these moves. Enough to have done them himself.
Mycroft's hand slid over his, then moved up his arm to his shoulder, then squeezed. "You know where this is going, don't you," he said softly.
"For a couple of hours," admitted Anderson. "You aren't really interested in dinosaurs are you?"
"Not to the extent you are, but yes, I am. They ruled the Earth for a very long time. As such, I find them … intriguing."
"You know that it's an office joke about me and dinosaurs. I just like them as a hobby, not a turn on. I mean, how would that even work."
"Yes, I already know, Tommy."
"How did you know - no one uses my--" said Anderson.
"I know everything about you." Mycroft slid an arm around his waist. "And I know it's time to move this on." The hand reached down and cupped him through his trousers, stroking his hardening manhood.
Anderson spun around and kissed him. He wanted it to be a surprise, show that himself for the take-charge kind of bloke that he was. But if it took Mycroft off guard, the man adjusted fast enough. Mycroft caught him up in that position, took his kiss, commanded and deepened it.
By mutual decision they decided that the sitting room rug was as good a place as any. Anderson wasn't surprised that Mycroft had condoms and lube stuffed in his pocket. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to let someone else take the lead, he thought.
IV. Molly
"Oh look at this handsome fellow," she knelt down to coo over the puppy. The excited pup jumped up and down and tangled himself in his lead in his eagerness to be petted. "Look at you! Look at you!" She ran her hand over his bristly fur. Then she looked up into Mycroft's eyes. "He's beautiful. How old is he?"
"Eight months," said Mycroft. "He belonged to a good friend of mine who just succumbed to cancer."
Molly stood up, her eyes practically glowing. "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss."
Mycroft nodded, his face grew sad. "It was expected. Tobi here made his last months better, but his job is done. He needs a new home. I was wondering if you knew anyone who could take him on."
"You mean you don't want him yourself?"
"I'm afraid I'm far too busy to keep a dog. They need someone who will love and take care of them. Put them first. They need someone loyal and caring and trustworthy. That's why I thought of you."
He reached down and petted the dog, who was now so frantic with pleasure his tail appeared to be wagging the rest of his body.
"Oh, then, I'll take him," said Molly. "Of course I will. He's a sweetie-pie!"
"If you care to come with me, we can walk him back to my place. I can gather up his things. I'm afraid I rather over indulged him with toys." He paused, "Unless of course, you are busy. In which case we can do this another time."
Molly's eyes were round with joy. Her heart hammered. "I was meaning to go to Tescos, but that can wait."
Mycroft held out his arm to her, and Molly, let out a little squeak as she took it. She could feel her face turning a bit pink, and down below she felt a little pleasant tension. My goodness Mycroft was so charming, she thought.
Two hours later she'd forgotten all about Tobi, even though occasionally she could hear him clicking about on the hardwood floors outside the closed door to Mycroft's bedroom. Her hands were buried in short soft hair, while Mycroft's head nodded between her thighs and his tongue brought her to orgasm for the third time.
This was the best day ever.
V. Dimmock
"You are a dirty boy," the man growled in his ear. "Take your punishment."
Dimmock tensed in anticipation of the paddle. Then it came with all the cathartic release of pain and heat and pressure. His erection slapped against his leather chaps as his hips bent under the blow. This man was strong. He was going to walk funny tomorrow for sure.
"Thank you, sir," he gasped, feeling the tears welling up and threatening to spill over his cheeks.
"You let Lestrade beat you again, didn't you. His record is better than yours, and it always will be. Do you know why?"
The sound of the spank rang in his ears. Oh, god it hurt. He was bruising, definitely.
"Yes, Sir. I'm stupid. I'm arrogant. I make assumptions I shouldn't."
"You need to be humbled."
"Yes, sir."
The next blow was certainly humbling. Tears flowed freely down Dimmock's face. Oh god, he needed this. It hurt so bad.
"You let Sherlock show you up again, didn't you? He took two seconds and saw twenty things you missed. Important things. You should have seen them, boy."
"Yes, I should have. Punish me. I need to learn." He felt Mycroft's hands over his heated flesh, stroking the sensitive, injured buttocks.
Then the touch was gone and the paddle came, and everything went away again. The job, the stress, the need to be best. He was in the moment, in the BDSM club, with a new dom who somehow knew everything about him. Knew everything he needed.
"Very good," murmured Mycroft, reaching forward and giving his cock a tug. Dimmock came so hard his legs gave way and nothing but the ropes around his wrists kept him from falling to the rubber matted floor.
-I. John
"That's enough, Mycroft," said Sherlock. "I draw the line."
"I don't know what you are talking about," said Mycroft letting himself settle more comfortably in the cushions of John's favorite chair. "What gives you the idea that I'm out to seduce John."
"Because it's what you do, you man-whore," said Sherlock. "It's some sort of weird game for you. You seduce everyone in my life. Friends. Enemies. People I barely know. I can't fathom why you do it. And no-" he said preemptively. "I don't want to know either. It's your randy libido, it's your problem."
"Then why are you even discussing it?"
"Because John is mine and I'm not going to let you do it to him."
"I haven't made a move on him," said Mycroft innocently.
"And you won't," said Sherlock. "Promise."
Mycroft's face settled into annoyance. "I really don't think -"
"Promise." There was a sound of footsteps faintly outside the door. The man of the hour was coming.
Reluctantly Mycroft nodded. "Very well. He's all yours."
The door opened and John stepped in. He looked from Sherlock to Mycroft. "Oh, hello again."
Mycroft looked John over with palpable longing, then grabbed his umbrella and headed to the door. As it shut he heard John's voice.
"What was that about?"