Work Text:
The text came in a few days after he had finally and thoroughly claimed John as his own.
Double murder on 421 Arlington St. GL
Sherlock had been expecting one of those for a while, but for the first time since he had created his job he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to take it... not when there was still so much to discover about his mate. Sherlock put the mobile aside before turning over to kiss his lover’s neck just over the ever-present mark while his fingers touched the scar that had sent this man back home, to him, reverently.
Watson muttered something quite unintelligible and moved a little in his sleep to put some distance between them. The consulting detective felt a little rejected but then he remembered that the blond had tried to follow him up to the fifth round the day before… And, they had been having a sex marathon since that first time when John’s sweet smell had reached his nose, so maybe he should let the man rest for a while.
Five minutes later, the doctor’s mobile rang loudly. The man moved, his eyes still half closed, to read the message, expecting it to be from Sarah asking him to go to the clinic. He had asked for a few days off from his actual work when it had become obvious that the younger Holmes wasn’t letting him go for the time being… and the fact that he felt equally disinclined to try and get away from their home the moment that the brunette did so much as bat an eyelash.
The time off had been mysteriously granted without as many protests as he was used to hearing every time he had to run off because the consulting detective called him for a case. He suspected Mycroft’s influence but he couldn’t prove it. It could very well be that he was getting a little paranoid though he knew it was only thanks to the ginger haired man that he hadn’t lost his job. Yet he certainly wasn’t going to say anything to the British Government’s brother who was so intent on bedding him at every possible chance!
He hadn’t had so much sexual activity since he was a teenager, and even then he had never had a partner quite like his present one.
Could you bring Sherlock to 421 Arlington St? Fresh double murder and who knows what else. GL
Watson was surprised. After so many days without a case he would have thought that his lover would jump at the chance to solve a new puzzle and one that sounded so promising. He turned around to speak to his mate, the word was still a little strange for him but it sent a satisfied feeling down his body every time he said it, even to himself.
“Lestrade has a fresh homicide for you… don’t you want it?” John asked, uncertain of what was wrong with Sherlock if was letting a double murder pass.
“Yes, I want it, but… I want you more,” he said with hunger in his voice.
In between their bursts of action he had explained to the smaller one that he wouldn’t be so greedy for much longer. But they were early in their mating so he always wanted to be in his lover, to feed from him, experience the satisfaction only he could provide.
“I think we should go, Sherlock,” Watson said firmly. It would be a good thing for the brunette to go back to solving crimes, since it would give him something else to focus on apart from the former soldier’s body.
He loved the younger Holmes dearly, but he didn’t really think he could take much more of their recent sex filled routine without fainting from exhaustion. Moreover, he needed to get out of the flat, since he hadn’t been allowed to from the moment they had mated. He suspected that if Sherlock got his way he would be kept inside 221b for the rest of his life, hard and ready to sate his partner’s lust at any moment of the day or the night. And it was becoming more and more difficult to think of a reason why that was wrong.
The brunette caressed his lover’s arm, trying to make his forget all about leaving their nest but the doctor stood up without another word and began to walk to his closet to look for some clothes. Sherlock pouted at being so pointedly ignored but decided that it wouldn’t do any good to fight the stubborn man, so he picked up his mobile and let the detective inspector know they would be there soon enough… after he had made love to his partner once more, that was. He needed to be sure that his mate was properly marked with his scent and seed if he was showing him outside so early on in their mating.
We'll be there in an hour. SH
With the message sent he walked to the shower where his little blond riding hood was taken an unsuspecting, and what would seem like a quick, bath.
“If you are not careful enough, John...” he began to say while invading the small space “The big bad wolf could eat you up.” His words were dark and dangerous, and he could feel his mate hardening against his will at them.
“Sherlock! We don’t have the time!” he protested as he was pushed against the tiles of the wall, his back exposed to the predator who was parting his cheeks with ease, while his mouth, once again, made him bleed at his neck.
“I told Lestrade we would be at the scene in an hour, so there’s plenty of time… and you made me so hungry…” he pressed on, urging the man to give up any pretense of resisting his sensual assault.
“You’re a beast!” Watson growled, but let himself be taken once more, not finding it in himself to resist.
Sometime later, while they dressed to go, John turned around to look at his partner. He was as handsome as ever, with his expensive clothing covering his body. He felt a sudden desire to peel them from him. He hadn’t had the chance before since all that Sherlock was wearing at the time he had attacked him was the blue dressing gown and then they had been very much naked. He wanted to see the strong muscles unravel under his hands…
“John…” the younger Holmes warned the smaller man. “If you keep up that train of thought we’ll not make it to Lestrade's crime scene.”
“You can read my thoughts now?” the former soldier claimed in wonder and worry.
“Only if they are lustful…” he said shrugging his shoulders and making a huge effort to keep his mask in place and not jump the smaller one.
The blond smiled, nodded and tried to keep his appreciation of his mate’s figure to himself. The taller one felt grateful for his doctor’s efforts. It still took him another five minutes for his dark orbs to recede and for him to regain some semblance of control over his urges.
They finally were able to leave the house and hail a cab without incident. The ride started silent and comfortable. The former soldier was thankful for the break. He was starting to get concerned about his health if they kept having intercourse at the pace they were… But what a way to go! He thought, smiling to himself while looking out the window. Suddenly his mind took him to the past, to the first time they had gone together to a crime scene. They had been exactly like this, side by side, sharing their space, each one in his little world… until the brunette had decided to show his deductive powers.
“I fell for you when you told me I was brilliant…” The whispered words startled him and he turned around to look at the other who was intensely focused on him, as if Sherlock wanted to read every secret that Watson had managed to keep up to this moment.
“You told me you were married to your work!” he objected.
“You weren’t ready to admit you were attracted to me out loud,” he explained simply “And I didn’t know if you were going to stay…” the taller one said in a strange voice.
“So you lied to protect yourself,” the smaller one concluded.
Sherlock nodded, not really wanting to continue that conversation. He had known the moment the man had given him his phone so easily at Bart’s that he would be special. And something had rebelled at the thought of letting him go. He had made the invitation to share his living quarters before really thinking it through; such had been his sudden need to make sure the former soldier wouldn’t slip to another man... or to one of his kind.
Silence fell between them for a short while before reaching their destination.
It was a nice neighborhood, the doctor noticed. The houses around them were big and looked well built; money was certainly not a problem for the people living there.
They approached the yellow tape with sure steps. Donovan waiting for them. She looked at the men and half smiled before raising the line so they could pass under.
“Nice going, freak,” she said while eyeing Watson speculatively.
The consulting detective growled at her before pulling the blond first to his body and then behind his back, as if trying to shield him from the female yarder.
“Sherlock, what are you doing?” the man protested not quite understanding the other’s sudden reaction to the yarder’s words. Even if he had to admit the way her orbs had fixed on him for a moment had made him inexplicably nervous.
Instead of answering his question the consulting detective turned swiftly to usher his blogger to the relative safety of the house.
“Sherlock, John, nice to see you both!” Gregory Lestrade greeted the men with a smile while approaching them, but then he stopped, shocked and looked alternatively from one to the other.
The doctor watched the officer surprised at his reaction. He didn’t understand what the hell was happening around him; everyone seemed to be acting half crazy. Then he turned to his lover who looked so full of pride he was almost shinning.
The detective inspector reached the pair and seemed to study Watson before looking at the brunette.
“Does your brother know? Are you sure it’s safe to be here?” he asked in a very low, hurried voice.
“Not yet,” the consulting detective said, not caring to elaborate.
“To which one, Sherlock? I can’t have you on board if you’re going to start attacking people,” the man urged the other on.
Watson was surprised to find out that the silver haired man was talking about them as if he knew exactly what had happened, like he had insight into the matter that even John didn’t know about.
“John said he wanted to come,” the younger Holmes supplied. “So I complied. Don’t blame me for actually listening to my mate.”
“What do you mean he’ll start attacking people?” John asked suddenly.
Lestrade looked at the former soldier with something akin to sympathy in his brown eyes.
“Your bond is too recent for him to be able to control his more… base instincts,” the man explained at last before turning to the taller one. “Haven’t you told this to him?”
“No, he didn’t!” The doctor answered before looking at his lover angrily.
“You said we should come… and it was the only way for me to stop having sex with you,” he almost whispered to the other almost in apology.
“Sherlock, you need to tell me these things! They’re important, you know?” he chastised the younger Holmes sternly. “If we need to stay at home you have to tell me! You don’t get to make all the calls on your own anymore, are we clear?”
The consultant detective had never desired his mate more than that very second. He could feel the need arising at once and his eyes darkened beyond his control.
Earlier, he had known of his lover’s worry about the amount of sex they were having. But he had mistakenly read John’s concern as rejection instead of a simple worry over their health. Now, he stood corrected and later he would explain that indulging themselves wasn’t going to have a lasting effect on either of them, it was rather the opposite.
“John…” Lestrade called from somewhere at his side keeping his voice low. “Take him home, now!”
The blond nodded without looking at the yarder, his whole attention focused on his mate. They had to leave at once, or find a little, private spot to shag each other senseless… However, the former soldier found himself a bit troubled about Sherlock showing his beautiful self to these people who couldn’t possibly began to understand what he was, who he was. They had to leave safely, but he couldn’t quite see how to do it.
And the brunette was so breathtaking like this; Watson found it more and more difficult to care for where they were. His need was beginning to overrule his common sense, his protective nature fighting with his desire. He wanted nothing more that to walk over to the taller man and let Sherlock take possession of his body once more, consequences be damned. His exhaustion was completely forgotten. He had been such an idiot for making them both get out of bed!
Watson was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t noticed the detective inspector taking them both by the elbows and dragging them out of the crime scene and into a black car. The silver haired man opened the door and pushed the recently mated couple into the back seat before closing it swiftly. Without so much as a backward glance he returned to the house slowly, the whole situation with the two men had affected him more than he was ready to admit.
Sally looked at her boss with a knowing smile.
“Maybe you should go too, sir,” she said respectfully.
Even if he tolerated the freak that refused to feed like a true and proper incubus should, she respected the officer. He was a good boss, and the only thing that had stopped her from trying to seduce him was the fact that Lestrade was mated. Not everyone would be able to tell, of course, but being a succubus, she could.
“I’m fine, Sally,” he said, thankful for the woman’s concern.
“I beg to differ, Detective Inspector.”
The voice at his back made him shiver with anticipation. It’s been so damn long since his partner appeared suddenly at his job and dragged him away... He turned around slowly to take in Mycroft Holmes’ appearance. The man was as elegant as ever in a grey suit, with the umbrella’s handle firmly in his hand, the tip against the floor and close to his impeccable shoes.
The officer smiled at him, his eyes shining with a foreign light. Being so close to the younger Holmes when he was still in a mating frenzy had affected Greg more than anyone else since he his own mating. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he had begun to run a fever.
“You should come with me, Detective Inspector,” the taller man said with a dangerous smile but a deceptively soft tone.
“Go, sir. I’ll take care of everything until your return,” the woman at his back said, shooing him away.
Greg walked to his mate with trembling legs. Damn the consulting detective and Doctor Watson for not being more careful! he thought at once.
His mate took him by the waist and guided them to another car parked close by.
“I sorry about having to bother you with…” he began but was abruptly interrupted by the ginger haired man’s lips on his.
A moment later they were kissing passionately.
“Its okay,” the other one said at last. “I knew something was amiss when Sherlock didn’t contact me for several days…” he went on while unbuttoning the yarder’s shirt. “But I didn’t think he would be this careless… my little sibling.” Mycroft said against his mate’s neck, affection clear in his words. Once he said it Mycroft bit down on the special place that marked the silver haired man as his own.
Lestrade moaned. That spot was so sensitive… and the other always took advantage of it.
“He thought he was… being a good mate…” he explained at the same time his right hand came to rest on his lover’s head, pushing him to make the bite deeper. “Giving John what he asked for.”
“Mmm…” The older Holmes murmured, and let his teeth sink into the tempting skin, finally tasting the sweet coppery blood that was so freely given.
“Mycroft! Please,” Gregory begged at once, while moving his other hand to cup the man’s erection through his trousers.
“You shouldn’t play such a dangerous game, my Gregory…” the man said in a husky, dark voice as he lapped the other’s neck. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to properly sate my hunger on you…”
Those words ignited something in the older yarder, making him moan and push the fly of his partner down.
“It’s not my fault you… preferred to run Britain from the shadows… rather than… making me melt under your touch…” he provoked, knowing perfectly well he would enjoy the results.
The sudden pitch black in his mate’s eyes told him he had achieved his goal and he braced himself for the ride. It was so exhilarating to see the composed Mycroft Holmes lose it and let his inner demon out to play Greg’s body like a well-attuned instrument.
The ginger haired man pushed him against the back of the seat and laid him out. Once the smaller man was comfortably positioned, he proceeded to make short work of their pants and began to quickly pump the officer’s manhood.
“Don’t be such an evil mate…” Greg begged, knowing perfectly well that the other could keep doing that for ages without allowing him any release, such was the command the incubus had over his body.
Trying to make things a little easier on himself and move things along he tried to open his legs in a silent invitation.
“Please, Mycroft... just take me… and then when can… go and do it in your big bed…” he kept on while his hands brought his partner to him and they shared a heated kiss.
After a moment, the older Holmes latched once more onto the marking point.
“I won’t do any such thing…” he whispered, still massaging the engorged flesh and letting his lover feel his own hardness against the firm thigh of the one beneath him.
“Mycroft…?” His mind refused to form the whole question, but his eyes showed his renewed desperation.
“I’ll take you in our bed… where you haven’t been sleeping as the good mate… you… should… be,” he punctuated each word with a particularly strong squeeze.
“I’ve been working nonstop!” Gregory protested while his back arched on its own. “Murders don’t… solve themselves!” he finished growing desperate, his voice ragged and his perspiration visible on his forehead.
“I suppose not…” the ginger haired man gave him a treacherous smile, making the smaller one shudder. “Maybe I should make sure that you get assigned to fewer cases?”
“No!” he growled in response. “You promised!”
“I told you I wouldn’t take your work from you, my beautiful. I never said anything about not influencing it… to ensure you get to sleep in our home at least once a week!”
It was the truth, of course. At the time, the only thing that had worried Lestrade had been the fact that the older Holmes could force him out of the NSY. But the man had eased his worry by telling Greg he would never do that to him. He understood how important doing the right thing was for his lover. Moreover, he understood what having a demanding job was like. And he didn’t want Gregory to be alone most of the time because he was away securing his power and Britain’s position in the world. So letting him keep his job seemed like the best solution for all parties involved.
“Missed me?” the detective inspector asked with a teasing smile.
“You don’t even begin to suspect how much…” the incubus said at last.
“Then show it to me!” he ordered.
Mycroft smiled. “It doesn’t work… quite that way… and you know it, Gregory.”
Damn the man and his self-control! Time to change tactics, he decided. “Please, please, Mycroft… I need to come… I’ll give you whatever you want…”
“Whatever I want? What a careless promise to make, my mate,” he whispered against his ear. “How does the next forty eight hours being fucked by me sound, Gregory?”
Hearing his always-proper lover use such a crude word made him grasp for air and cry while his body tried to fight the other’s hold on it.
“Its okay, Gregory… just say yes to me… and I’ll let you come…” the voice was so seductive…
“Yes!” he shouted. “To whatever you want just… let me come!”
The older Holmes’ eyes shone delighted. He loved to make his mate wild with desire, to have him so desperate and needy he only could think of him.
“By all means, my beautiful Gregory, come.”
The yarder’s release was the strongest he had experienced in a while. It made him think of their first times, while the mating was so new and every time was more complex and strangely more fulfilling than the last.
The detective inspector hugged his lover, pulling him over, until the taller one was completely on top of him, and then maneuvered his own body until he had managed to trap the other’s prick between his thighs.
“You too, Mycroft… please, let me feel you… paint me with your seed… it’s been so long since I felt your come between my legs…”
There was no way he could deny his partner anything when he begged like that, fresh from his orgasm. With the energy pouring freely into him, nourishing his powers and allowing him to become stronger, and strengthening their bond, he slid back and forth in the tight space his mate had created for him, until he achieved his own release.
Lestrade keep him in a firm embrace, trapping the other with his body while their breaths returned to normal and their heart rate slowed. Suddenly, the officer realized they weren’t moving anymore.
“How long have we been in your garage?” he asked half ashamed and half amused
“Near the last five minutes…” the other said, sounding all too satisfied and tenderly caressing his lover.
“We should go inside. After this… I’m really looking forward to you taking me, Mycroft.”
The older Holmes looked at his lover with adoration. He had chosen well making the detective inspector his mate!
“For the next two days, Gregory…” he reminded the other hotly. “I’m going to drown you in pleasure.”