His Sniper

hermajestyscivilservant:

hissnipermormor:

hermajestyscivilservant:

holmescest-sub:

hermajestyscivilservant:

holmescest-sub:

Sherlock wandered through the flat at 221B Baker Street absently, his robe hanging off his shoulder haphazardly. He was in a deep state of thinking and there was no bringing him out of this easily. He had been unusually overworked recently, cases just piling up out of nowhere, and he hadn’t been…

The fact that his brother seemed to be falling victim to his own mind was nothing Mycroft didn’t know beforehand. He kept careful track of all those little signs that would give away the fact that Sherlock needed him and he let those feelings grow and fester since it didn’t benefit him to intervene before Sherlock was truly ready. It was like make a hollandaise sauce, careful timing necessary to make sure everything turned out perfectly. And from what he knew of his brother’s behaviour as of late, Sherlock was more than a bit ready for him.

Of course, Sherlock wasn’t the only one with a busy life and Mycroft could hardly cast aside the ongoing troubles in the government to tend to his brother’s needs. Nor did he want to, given that he knew that it would only give Sherlock the idea that he held the control between the two of them. So, he went about the motions of his day, making sure that no one would bother him for him anything short of an international catastrophe, before going to 221B. Making his way inside, he looked around the living room with a slight grimace. “You really should try harder to keep this place… more presentable than it is.”

Sherlock barely noticed the presence of another human being in the room as he continued his insistant pacing, his eyes closed and eyelids fluttering as he tried to fix his mind, trying to reorganize everything that had somehow recently become a mess. He didn’t notice Mycroft, until he bumped into him and nearly fell backwards.

“Mycroft!” he exclaimed, looking up at his brother and blinking. “You’ve come…Why did it take you so unbelievably long?” he grumbled, scratching at his arms, his arms already raw with the scratching he had been doing.

“I know it may be hard for you to believe given your self-interest and lack of knowledge on the solar system, but the world doesn’t revolve around you,” he pointed out, only briefly glancing at Sherlock’s arm. He didn’t necessarily like what he saw, but it wasn’t unexpected.

 

Grabbing Sherlock’s hand to keep him from scratching at himself, Mycroft gave him a warning look before letting go of him, trusting him to stop doing any further damage to himself. Looking his brother over, Mycroft couldn’t say that he was surprised by the state of his brother, nor was he particularly pleased, though all that would be fixed eventually, he was certain. “What is it you need Sherlock?”

Sherlock subtly looked his brother up and down. It seems that he too had been having some stress in his life. Perhaps his job, most likely, but there was undoubtedly other things that were factoring in, but his mind was too cluttered to think straight, to find all the details. He closed his eyes, tempted to scratch at his arm again, but restrained himself from doing so.

“Mycroft please….you know what I need…” he whispered. “I need…I need a distraction…I need to stop this…” he whispered. “I need your help….Mycroft please…” he pleaded. He hadn’t gotten this far away from himself in years now. And he knew that if Mycroft denied him now, he would turn straight back to the drugs, and he didn’t want that, not now.

While he would’ve loved to have indulged in making his brother beg, even Mycroft wasn’t cruel enough to make him suffer more than he already was. Sighing, he nodded along to what his brother said, half listening while he thought through what it was he wanted from Sherlock. Looking at him, he frowned slightly before deciding.

Nudging Sherlock’s leg with his umbrella. “On your knees, Sherlock,” he said, getting right down to business, given that it was what they both needed, even though Mycroft would never admit to needing it as badly as Sherlock did.

Sherlock gasped and nodded, falling to his knees, not even minding that it hurt a bit to fall onto the hardwood floor. “Mycroft yes…thank you….” he whispered, looking up at his brother. From this angle, he could see right into his brother’s eyes, those dark, beautiful eyes. They were so entrancing. “Please….” he whispered. “Tell me what you want me to do….” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment, accepting his role in submission.

hermajestyscivilservant:

holmescest-sub:

hermajestyscivilservant:

holmescest-sub:

Sherlock wandered through the flat at 221B Baker Street absently, his robe hanging off his shoulder haphazardly. He was in a deep state of thinking and there was no bringing him out of this easily. He had been unusually overworked recently, cases just piling up out of nowhere, and he hadn’t been…

The fact that his brother seemed to be falling victim to his own mind was nothing Mycroft didn’t know beforehand. He kept careful track of all those little signs that would give away the fact that Sherlock needed him and he let those feelings grow and fester since it didn’t benefit him to intervene before Sherlock was truly ready. It was like make a hollandaise sauce, careful timing necessary to make sure everything turned out perfectly. And from what he knew of his brother’s behaviour as of late, Sherlock was more than a bit ready for him.

Of course, Sherlock wasn’t the only one with a busy life and Mycroft could hardly cast aside the ongoing troubles in the government to tend to his brother’s needs. Nor did he want to, given that he knew that it would only give Sherlock the idea that he held the control between the two of them. So, he went about the motions of his day, making sure that no one would bother him for him anything short of an international catastrophe, before going to 221B. Making his way inside, he looked around the living room with a slight grimace. “You really should try harder to keep this place… more presentable than it is.”

Sherlock barely noticed the presence of another human being in the room as he continued his insistant pacing, his eyes closed and eyelids fluttering as he tried to fix his mind, trying to reorganize everything that had somehow recently become a mess. He didn’t notice Mycroft, until he bumped into him and nearly fell backwards.

“Mycroft!” he exclaimed, looking up at his brother and blinking. “You’ve come…Why did it take you so unbelievably long?” he grumbled, scratching at his arms, his arms already raw with the scratching he had been doing.

“I know it may be hard for you to believe given your self-interest and lack of knowledge on the solar system, but the world doesn’t revolve around you,” he pointed out, only briefly glancing at Sherlock’s arm. He didn’t necessarily like what he saw, but it wasn’t unexpected.

 

Grabbing Sherlock’s hand to keep him from scratching at himself, Mycroft gave him a warning look before letting go of him, trusting him to stop doing any further damage to himself. Looking his brother over, Mycroft couldn’t say that he was surprised by the state of his brother, nor was he particularly pleased, though all that would be fixed eventually, he was certain. “What is it you need Sherlock?”

Sherlock subtly looked his brother up and down. It seems that he too had been having some stress in his life. Perhaps his job, most likely, but there was undoubtedly other things that were factoring in, but his mind was too cluttered to think straight, to find all the details. He closed his eyes, tempted to scratch at his arm again, but restrained himself from doing so.

“Mycroft please….you know what I need…” he whispered. “I need…I need a distraction…I need to stop this…” he whispered. “I need your help….Mycroft please…” he pleaded. He hadn’t gotten this far away from himself in years now. And he knew that if Mycroft denied him now, he would turn straight back to the drugs, and he didn’t want that, not now.

hissnipermormor:

Seb smiled and nipped his lower lip, trying to control himself, feeling himself losing control over his actions, over everything. Everything was just blurring together. It was a wonderful feeling, after being so long without it, it was a blessing. “Jim…” he breathed, feeling…

Sebastian chuckled and planted light kisses on Jim’s neck, sucking on the soft skin, bringing bruises to the surface. “Come for me Jim…” he whispered hotly against the smaller man’s ear. He slid his tongue along the lobe, tracing Jim’s ears. “Let me watch you fall apart for me…” he whispered seductively. He’d been wanting this for months, wanting Jim back, wanting to watch him fall apart like he always did, melting into a pile of moaning, pleading man.

hissnipermormor:

Sebastian pondered the question a moment, trying to think about himself for once, which was a strange thing for him to be doing. He closed his eyes. “I smoke.” he said quickly, glancing over at the smaller man. “I like to drink, but don’t get around to it often, but even…

Sebastian started slightly, glancing a bit bewildered at the smaller man for such a question. “My sex life preferences?” he asked curiously. “Uhm…well….I don’t particularly enjoy women. And I don’t particularly like to be the one in control, if you’ll believe that.” he murmured. “I need a Dom, if you get my drift.” he said and chuckled lightly.

hissnipermormor:

“Sadly, no sir. I…I’m not a very good flyer at all.” he said and sighed. “Was never a strong point with me, anyway. I was usually a man on the ground or up in the trees, tall buildings. I was hardly ever in a plane, unless we had a moving target that needed to be taken out.”…

Sebastian pondered the question a moment, trying to think about himself for once, which was a strange thing for him to be doing. He closed his eyes. “I smoke.” he said quickly, glancing over at the smaller man. “I like to drink, but don’t get around to it often, but even when I do, I’m still a damn good shot.” he murmured, chewing his lip, thinking hard. He’d never had to think about things that characterized himself before; he found it was actually relatively difficult. “I think that’s it…” he added finally, still thinking he was missing something, but unsure as to what.

hissnipermormor:

Seb grinned and brushed his lips against Jim’s forehead. “Out here? Can’t we at least…go back inside?” he whispered, breath hitching with each stroke, feeling himself getting closer to his climax already. He really had missed this, missed Jim’s touch, his voice, those eyes…

Seb smiled and nipped his lower lip, trying to control himself, feeling himself losing control over his actions, over everything. Everything was just blurring together. It was a wonderful feeling, after being so long without it, it was a blessing. “Jim…” he breathed, feeling himself close. He turned his boss and lover around, to get better access, and stretched him briefly, barely able to wait long enough. He pushed himself in suddenly with a low groan, holding Jim to his body, keeping him close.