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holmestice2019-06-04 09:17 pm
holmesticemods) wrote in holmestice2019-06-04 09:17 pm
Entry tags:
Fic for Johnlockismyreligion: Calm After The Storm
Title: Calm After The Storm
Recipient:johnlockismyreligion
Author:belle82devart
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Characters/Pairings: Gregory Lestrade / Mycroft Holmes
Rating: Explicit sexual content (M for Mature)
Warnings: Mentions of past sex and suggestive acts, smoking, alcohol use, Sex, M/M, Rough Sex. Accidental hurting, Use of a safe word, Aftercare, Angst, Regret.
Word Count: 2,347
Summary: After a hard, stressful day, Mycroft Holmes returns home to dispose of his built up frustration, but will it end up backfiring on him?
Cognac, an old friend to a powerful bastard as he sits in his plush leather chair and debates on slamming his head against a desk or retiring to bed for the man he loved. Swaying, the room was swaying in such a motion as to dull his tiring senses that were drawn on and played all day. Playing, these petty humans he had wrapped around his little pinky danced a waltz to shattering glass and screeching violins that trampled all over his authority and insisted on pushing lines that should never be pushed. As the British government in one man, a sigh was all he could manage before refilling his glass to half way and stealing another long sip. Cognac was a dear friend and the bottle followed him to a standing position when the door of the home closed and echoed down the halls. "Mycroft, I'm home!" Called the voice of a man oh so dear to the drunken queen's militaries heart. Stumbling, the hand placed on the walls and Cognac laced lips meeting those of unsuspecting delicate texture. A murmur of surprise and the taller, bigger of the two had the other up against the doorframe, scattering fingers tracing along his sides and simply tempting the fabric to loosen. "Mycroft, what has gotten into you?" The man asked with a bit of humor to his tone, those delicate lips that once wrapped around the glass edge teased a soft suckle at the juncture of the man's lower jaw and neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin before his darkened eyes met those of the man who looked on.
A question hung in the air despite the way hands grabbed and tugged at clothing to loosen and dislodge it from a tucked in position within the mans belt. “Mycroft, darling-” “On your knees, Gregory.” The man commanded harshly against his skin, darken, alcohol laced gaze looking on to the other and watching as his lower lip trembled. A hesitant motion and a moment passed before the click of a unbuckling belt and a back braced against a wall and wrinkling fabric sounded in the quiet air. The detective inspector looked on with a shaky breath, pulling the mans trousers down to expose the semi-hard tent forming behind thin expensive cotton briefs. A tug to the material and the object that was in the inspectors mind when the command was given sprung up, hitting the mans button up and vest covered abdomen before slowly lowering due to the state it was in. Calloused fingers with the scent of cigarette ash and cheap bathroom hand soap took the object in hand, feeling the way it throbbed and began to stiffen just by his hot breath brushing over it. A grip on his graying locks and a pull forward to the pink tip with need leaking out was enough indication for the flavor to be spread on a skilled tongue that learned all the right bits to toy with when the man was in a state of want. It wasn’t his teasing the taller needed and when those sinful lips on a innocent man wrapped around his member, he didn’t hold back his voice. It came out in a harsh motion and a word of ‘fuck’ leaving his generally clean lips. His hips move in such a motion as to make the inspector relax his throat and allow the motions to further down in his wet, hot cavern. It wasn’t nice, none of this was nice, and Mycroft could only savor the motion as his hips met the soft features of the mans face as they slip and hit in a fast fucking motion. His noises of huffs and miniature groans caused the one below to simply stare and tent form in constricting trousers. The taller refused to spill his sweet cream down the mans throat even as it constricted in the most delicious of ways. A quick removal, a grab of his chin with a squish of his cheeks by extended fingers and the lift to view him, Mycroft made the man stand and replaced where his back had rested against the wall of the interior of the home.
“There will be no request tonight, no demands. I am in charge and you will do what I say, do as I please. Do you understand, Gregory?” Slowly the man nods in turn, his body dragged along by loosened tie to the bedroom for the two to continue, placed before the bed and firm hand pushing back against the others chest, sending the graying inspector to the bed to watch as the other sets his bottle aside and took a moment to straighten. “Undress.” Numbly, fingers of the shaking variety worked the buttons free from their loops and sent the article to the side as the tie was soon to join. The taller watched with devious eyes, a noticeable twitch of a reddened appendage being taken note and the subtle lick of lips when the man turned to remove his trousers and boxers beneath. A harsh slap to the rear cheeks of the man and the detective inspector gave a startled noise in the steamy air. Alcohol was taken from the bottle in a direct sip, making the investigator wonder just what was causing such behavior, yet he couldn’t dwell too long when the other climbed onto the bed and pushed his body down to bend, hips pulled up to line up with a certain extended area. Mycroft was a master of preparation, always using the right amount of this or that to bring the man to a ready stance for his entrance. It wasn’t the length Gregory Lestrade had to worry of, but rather the girth, and when the man barely hooked a finger in his rear hole with a bit of spit to be considered ‘open’, it drove his worried state even further.
A harsh suckle of air as the man moved his finger, adding a second and in what felt like only minutes passed by in what was truly seconds, removed altogether. “M-Mycroft-” “Gregory, what did I say.” His hips pushed forward and the monster of girth tried to push beyond the tight ring of muscle, making the man beneath him whimper out and bite on his lip to near blood was drawn. Hammering hearts and one to the point it deafened the world around him as the tip pushed past in the worst way possible. The spit had dried and it felt damn near like sandpaper, making a squeak of a voice come out in a single word that sent the man aboves blood to run cold.
“A-Apricot!”
“Apricot?”
“Yes, Apricot.”
The taller man looked down to what he was doing and for a moment, he sobered enough to realize just what pain he was causing to his dear inspector. A quick withdrawal and a noise of pain, the taller could feel his heart quicken further at the way the other moved to push up closer to the headboard of the bed, to stray away from his motions and watched the shorter who held a pillow over his member and kept his eyes downcast in a way that made the other feel shame for his actions. "Gregory, I-"
"What has gotten into you, Mycroft? You're usually so tender and sweet…You reek of alcohol, and your bloody arse is so rough.." "I..Gregory, I must apologize. How I am acting is very unorthodox from how I should be treating you, I should never treat you in such a way again." His hand reached out and felt the mans cheek before it was swatted away, pushing those shaking digits away and standing from the bed. All the British Government himself could do was watch as the Detective Inspector pulled his undergarments on and left the room. For a moment, the government couldn't quite help the way his emotions took, taking the bottle and tossing it in the bin before straightening out the sheets and bedspread. The least he could do was set the bedding back in order for the man to return.. That is if he even decided to return. The man mentally damned himself for his idiocracy tendencies and he huffed when minutes went one without a sound or word. He rose, going to check on the other and followed the smell of smoke to his resting room where the man sat with a saddened expression as he smoked on a cancer stick. Quiet feet padded along to the mans back, hands timidly placing on his shoulders and feeling the muscles tense beneath his fingers. A gentle motion and a pressure of his thumb and the graying inspector looked to the other with a raised brow. "Come back to bed, I want to make it up to you, Gregory. You can set the pace, we can take it slow and-" "Mycroft, slow down." The man placed a hand over the others and brings it to his lips, lightly pecking the knuckles that brushed so lovingly against his cheek. "Let's go back to bed, Mycroft. Maybe we can wait for a moment?" "Of course, my love." The shorter led the taller back to the room, lying beneath the covers with him and simply savoring the way he kept pressed against his spine and those soft lips that had been so harsh before kissing so sweetly.
A hand slowly reached back in the wee hours of the night, taking the others rear in hand and causing the near sleeping man to stir. He looked to his sweet inspector who gave a soft look and the note was given to start. Soft lips trail along the mans neck and shoulder, keeping a slow and soft motion as the skim along the sweetened skin to find all the sensitive little spots that made the man go 'oh'. Years of contact, years of being held in one another's arms with slick bodies and huffs and moans. The nips and kisses that left marks on the skin that only the other would know of, memorizing every detail of his form.
Greg's breath hitched when a nip was delivered to a spot between his jugular and collarbone, a dark mark suckled on the fleshy path and making the man shiver due to such. Fingers explore soft patches of well kept hair and soothing along the mans strong chest. Mycroft inhaled his scent as the man shifted against his body, the sweet treatment making his form mewl in delight and bend in perfect aim when those fingers brushed a rose bud delicate to the cold. He bites down on his lip when he feels the other man hardened against his rear, a glance sent back to the man and shivering when those hands that touched him in all the right places went to where he needed him most. Mycroft occupied his shaft with a few lazy pumps, thumb brushing over the tip and gathering the pre-cum that accumulated there. He used it to pump him much more freely but the friction was a bit off for Mycrofts taste. He reached back to the nightside drawer, pulling the small bottle out and popping the cap much to Greg's satisfaction. He dripped a few drops onto the mans member, pumping him much more freely and allowing those sweet sounds to follow out of his lips.
His eyes flutter at the motions that pump him to hardness, whimpering out when more of the cold liquid is dripped along his crack and flowing down to his puckered ring of muscle. Mycroft hummed his approval at the woman Greg mewled and purred in such a soft motion of moans as a finger entered him, then a second and by the end, a third. He pumped them slowly, keeping the motion simple and sweet and making sure to hit all the right places that had Greg's voice growing in volume. "R-right there, Mycroft." "Ah, yes." A brief chuckle against his skin as he poked and prodded his prostate, making the man jerk and shake each time the area was hit. His hips rocked, and yet he whimpered when the sensation was gone. Slick fingers rub along his length and prepare it for entrance, placing the tip against his entrance and slowly easing in with a huff and groan of approval. He pushed in slowly, slowly easing himself to near fully settled and allowing the man to adjust just like he always had… That is, until earlier that night. His hips began a slow motion, pressing the man against his form and burying his face away in his neck. Light pecks and soft noises fall from his lips as he moved within the other, watching as Gregory bent and moaned. His head fell back, giving better access to his neck and allowing the other to suckle another mark. He played with his body, hips moving in such a blissful way and toying with his hair as their bodies move in sync. Such a blissful song to be played, such a dirty rhythm they both could move to. It was the final grasp of his member and pumping of it that sent Gregory Lestrade over the edge and his body to tighten and spasm. That reaction is what always sent the government himself over, spilling deep within with a hellish groan and body clinging as he milked them both to empty. A soft peck to his cheek, hands reaching back for a towel kept stashed away in the drawer and the cleaning of their of their spilled messes. Mycroft slowly pulled himself from the mans rear, watching as it leaked his sweet seed and wiping it away as the other huffed and suckled in as much air as possible. "Sleep, Gregory. You're exhausted." A turn and the man smiled sleepily to the other, fingers brushing his cheek in a soft motion. "And so are you." A soft chuckle and they pressed closer. Mycroft shook his head, smile keeping in place and stole a final kiss.
Recipient:
johnlockismyreligionAuthor:
belle82devartVerse: Sherlock BBC
Characters/Pairings: Gregory Lestrade / Mycroft Holmes
Rating: Explicit sexual content (M for Mature)
Warnings: Mentions of past sex and suggestive acts, smoking, alcohol use, Sex, M/M, Rough Sex. Accidental hurting, Use of a safe word, Aftercare, Angst, Regret.
Word Count: 2,347
Summary: After a hard, stressful day, Mycroft Holmes returns home to dispose of his built up frustration, but will it end up backfiring on him?
Cognac, an old friend to a powerful bastard as he sits in his plush leather chair and debates on slamming his head against a desk or retiring to bed for the man he loved. Swaying, the room was swaying in such a motion as to dull his tiring senses that were drawn on and played all day. Playing, these petty humans he had wrapped around his little pinky danced a waltz to shattering glass and screeching violins that trampled all over his authority and insisted on pushing lines that should never be pushed. As the British government in one man, a sigh was all he could manage before refilling his glass to half way and stealing another long sip. Cognac was a dear friend and the bottle followed him to a standing position when the door of the home closed and echoed down the halls. "Mycroft, I'm home!" Called the voice of a man oh so dear to the drunken queen's militaries heart. Stumbling, the hand placed on the walls and Cognac laced lips meeting those of unsuspecting delicate texture. A murmur of surprise and the taller, bigger of the two had the other up against the doorframe, scattering fingers tracing along his sides and simply tempting the fabric to loosen. "Mycroft, what has gotten into you?" The man asked with a bit of humor to his tone, those delicate lips that once wrapped around the glass edge teased a soft suckle at the juncture of the man's lower jaw and neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin before his darkened eyes met those of the man who looked on.
A question hung in the air despite the way hands grabbed and tugged at clothing to loosen and dislodge it from a tucked in position within the mans belt. “Mycroft, darling-” “On your knees, Gregory.” The man commanded harshly against his skin, darken, alcohol laced gaze looking on to the other and watching as his lower lip trembled. A hesitant motion and a moment passed before the click of a unbuckling belt and a back braced against a wall and wrinkling fabric sounded in the quiet air. The detective inspector looked on with a shaky breath, pulling the mans trousers down to expose the semi-hard tent forming behind thin expensive cotton briefs. A tug to the material and the object that was in the inspectors mind when the command was given sprung up, hitting the mans button up and vest covered abdomen before slowly lowering due to the state it was in. Calloused fingers with the scent of cigarette ash and cheap bathroom hand soap took the object in hand, feeling the way it throbbed and began to stiffen just by his hot breath brushing over it. A grip on his graying locks and a pull forward to the pink tip with need leaking out was enough indication for the flavor to be spread on a skilled tongue that learned all the right bits to toy with when the man was in a state of want. It wasn’t his teasing the taller needed and when those sinful lips on a innocent man wrapped around his member, he didn’t hold back his voice. It came out in a harsh motion and a word of ‘fuck’ leaving his generally clean lips. His hips move in such a motion as to make the inspector relax his throat and allow the motions to further down in his wet, hot cavern. It wasn’t nice, none of this was nice, and Mycroft could only savor the motion as his hips met the soft features of the mans face as they slip and hit in a fast fucking motion. His noises of huffs and miniature groans caused the one below to simply stare and tent form in constricting trousers. The taller refused to spill his sweet cream down the mans throat even as it constricted in the most delicious of ways. A quick removal, a grab of his chin with a squish of his cheeks by extended fingers and the lift to view him, Mycroft made the man stand and replaced where his back had rested against the wall of the interior of the home.
“There will be no request tonight, no demands. I am in charge and you will do what I say, do as I please. Do you understand, Gregory?” Slowly the man nods in turn, his body dragged along by loosened tie to the bedroom for the two to continue, placed before the bed and firm hand pushing back against the others chest, sending the graying inspector to the bed to watch as the other sets his bottle aside and took a moment to straighten. “Undress.” Numbly, fingers of the shaking variety worked the buttons free from their loops and sent the article to the side as the tie was soon to join. The taller watched with devious eyes, a noticeable twitch of a reddened appendage being taken note and the subtle lick of lips when the man turned to remove his trousers and boxers beneath. A harsh slap to the rear cheeks of the man and the detective inspector gave a startled noise in the steamy air. Alcohol was taken from the bottle in a direct sip, making the investigator wonder just what was causing such behavior, yet he couldn’t dwell too long when the other climbed onto the bed and pushed his body down to bend, hips pulled up to line up with a certain extended area. Mycroft was a master of preparation, always using the right amount of this or that to bring the man to a ready stance for his entrance. It wasn’t the length Gregory Lestrade had to worry of, but rather the girth, and when the man barely hooked a finger in his rear hole with a bit of spit to be considered ‘open’, it drove his worried state even further.
A harsh suckle of air as the man moved his finger, adding a second and in what felt like only minutes passed by in what was truly seconds, removed altogether. “M-Mycroft-” “Gregory, what did I say.” His hips pushed forward and the monster of girth tried to push beyond the tight ring of muscle, making the man beneath him whimper out and bite on his lip to near blood was drawn. Hammering hearts and one to the point it deafened the world around him as the tip pushed past in the worst way possible. The spit had dried and it felt damn near like sandpaper, making a squeak of a voice come out in a single word that sent the man aboves blood to run cold.
“A-Apricot!”
“Apricot?”
“Yes, Apricot.”
The taller man looked down to what he was doing and for a moment, he sobered enough to realize just what pain he was causing to his dear inspector. A quick withdrawal and a noise of pain, the taller could feel his heart quicken further at the way the other moved to push up closer to the headboard of the bed, to stray away from his motions and watched the shorter who held a pillow over his member and kept his eyes downcast in a way that made the other feel shame for his actions. "Gregory, I-"
"What has gotten into you, Mycroft? You're usually so tender and sweet…You reek of alcohol, and your bloody arse is so rough.." "I..Gregory, I must apologize. How I am acting is very unorthodox from how I should be treating you, I should never treat you in such a way again." His hand reached out and felt the mans cheek before it was swatted away, pushing those shaking digits away and standing from the bed. All the British Government himself could do was watch as the Detective Inspector pulled his undergarments on and left the room. For a moment, the government couldn't quite help the way his emotions took, taking the bottle and tossing it in the bin before straightening out the sheets and bedspread. The least he could do was set the bedding back in order for the man to return.. That is if he even decided to return. The man mentally damned himself for his idiocracy tendencies and he huffed when minutes went one without a sound or word. He rose, going to check on the other and followed the smell of smoke to his resting room where the man sat with a saddened expression as he smoked on a cancer stick. Quiet feet padded along to the mans back, hands timidly placing on his shoulders and feeling the muscles tense beneath his fingers. A gentle motion and a pressure of his thumb and the graying inspector looked to the other with a raised brow. "Come back to bed, I want to make it up to you, Gregory. You can set the pace, we can take it slow and-" "Mycroft, slow down." The man placed a hand over the others and brings it to his lips, lightly pecking the knuckles that brushed so lovingly against his cheek. "Let's go back to bed, Mycroft. Maybe we can wait for a moment?" "Of course, my love." The shorter led the taller back to the room, lying beneath the covers with him and simply savoring the way he kept pressed against his spine and those soft lips that had been so harsh before kissing so sweetly.
A hand slowly reached back in the wee hours of the night, taking the others rear in hand and causing the near sleeping man to stir. He looked to his sweet inspector who gave a soft look and the note was given to start. Soft lips trail along the mans neck and shoulder, keeping a slow and soft motion as the skim along the sweetened skin to find all the sensitive little spots that made the man go 'oh'. Years of contact, years of being held in one another's arms with slick bodies and huffs and moans. The nips and kisses that left marks on the skin that only the other would know of, memorizing every detail of his form.
Greg's breath hitched when a nip was delivered to a spot between his jugular and collarbone, a dark mark suckled on the fleshy path and making the man shiver due to such. Fingers explore soft patches of well kept hair and soothing along the mans strong chest. Mycroft inhaled his scent as the man shifted against his body, the sweet treatment making his form mewl in delight and bend in perfect aim when those fingers brushed a rose bud delicate to the cold. He bites down on his lip when he feels the other man hardened against his rear, a glance sent back to the man and shivering when those hands that touched him in all the right places went to where he needed him most. Mycroft occupied his shaft with a few lazy pumps, thumb brushing over the tip and gathering the pre-cum that accumulated there. He used it to pump him much more freely but the friction was a bit off for Mycrofts taste. He reached back to the nightside drawer, pulling the small bottle out and popping the cap much to Greg's satisfaction. He dripped a few drops onto the mans member, pumping him much more freely and allowing those sweet sounds to follow out of his lips.
His eyes flutter at the motions that pump him to hardness, whimpering out when more of the cold liquid is dripped along his crack and flowing down to his puckered ring of muscle. Mycroft hummed his approval at the woman Greg mewled and purred in such a soft motion of moans as a finger entered him, then a second and by the end, a third. He pumped them slowly, keeping the motion simple and sweet and making sure to hit all the right places that had Greg's voice growing in volume. "R-right there, Mycroft." "Ah, yes." A brief chuckle against his skin as he poked and prodded his prostate, making the man jerk and shake each time the area was hit. His hips rocked, and yet he whimpered when the sensation was gone. Slick fingers rub along his length and prepare it for entrance, placing the tip against his entrance and slowly easing in with a huff and groan of approval. He pushed in slowly, slowly easing himself to near fully settled and allowing the man to adjust just like he always had… That is, until earlier that night. His hips began a slow motion, pressing the man against his form and burying his face away in his neck. Light pecks and soft noises fall from his lips as he moved within the other, watching as Gregory bent and moaned. His head fell back, giving better access to his neck and allowing the other to suckle another mark. He played with his body, hips moving in such a blissful way and toying with his hair as their bodies move in sync. Such a blissful song to be played, such a dirty rhythm they both could move to. It was the final grasp of his member and pumping of it that sent Gregory Lestrade over the edge and his body to tighten and spasm. That reaction is what always sent the government himself over, spilling deep within with a hellish groan and body clinging as he milked them both to empty. A soft peck to his cheek, hands reaching back for a towel kept stashed away in the drawer and the cleaning of their of their spilled messes. Mycroft slowly pulled himself from the mans rear, watching as it leaked his sweet seed and wiping it away as the other huffed and suckled in as much air as possible. "Sleep, Gregory. You're exhausted." A turn and the man smiled sleepily to the other, fingers brushing his cheek in a soft motion. "And so are you." A soft chuckle and they pressed closer. Mycroft shook his head, smile keeping in place and stole a final kiss.
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