Deduction #24 Turn-on/Sherlock100 #98 Writer's Choice

Jan 28, 2012 22:29

Title: You don't have to be sick to work here, but it helps
Prompt: Turn-on
Author/Artist: marill_chan
Summary: Moriarty has his way with Mycroft
Warnings: Implied non-con and implied character death
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.

How easy it was to undo a man when you'd had 12 straight hours to study him. The same man who was in your face, sneering as another, more hardened man struck you again and again and again until you were a pulp, a bruised and bleeding pulp of flesh. The same man who was Sherlock's older brother. Older, but no more unique, sad. It could've been good. It could've been priceless! If Mycroft Holmes had been everything the rumors said about him. If he'd been half as mysterious, or a third as powerful. But, alas, just like the sinking, lonely feeling when you unwrapped Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes had been simply another pair of socks at Christmas.

"You disappoint me," you whisper into his ear the second he knows it's too late. You smile, biting your lip to keep it from ripping your face apart.

He's a bit unfocused. He doesn't know what to say, this Mycroft Holmes. Obviously, he's never been caught in his own little nest. Maybe he'll say How did you get in? Which is obvious. You know his security codes, and you know how to make a key copy. Or perhaps he'll lead with What do you want? Fractionally less obvious. But still, Mycroft, really. It's child's play. You want to do everything he did to you. You want to make him tell you all his secrets, and all the ones about Sherlock that he might have let out. You want to torture him. But you won't. You won't. It's okay. A more annoying thing would be to refuse all questions entirely. Which is what he's doing. Making you work for it. Hah. Hah hah hah.

"Moriarty," he says. His perfect lilt just purrs into your ear. And that pisses you off. You are not here to be seduced. You were seduced a long, long time ago. Maybe it wasn't this Holmes that seduced you, but visiting his brother. That's just more flirting. More hand holding.

"You know what I'll do if you don't do every. Thing. I want."

"I do," he replies, hiding his compulsion to swallow down bile and saliva. Who would know better than Mycroft Holmes what you are capable of doing to his precious Sherlock. YOURS! Your Sherlock now. Forever.

"Go to your bedroom. Leave your clothes in the hall."

His hesitation is scrumptious. It's a full second of sweets. You follow him, watching him taking off every piece of his clothing like a little robot. Suit jacket. Little robot man. Cufflinks. Where do you think you're going? Suspenders. You're looking quite thin these days. Slowly goes the polished shirt. Have you been worried about my Sherlock? Belt. Don't worry. Trousers. I treat him well. Underwear. Oooh, now you've got me distracted...good job.

You follow him into his bedroom. He stands perfectly positioned behind a bedpost as you enter the room. So modest. It's almost too much to bear.

You let the silence linger. You're staring into each other's eyes, like a mouse and falcon the moment before capture. Make that a snake. A pit viper. A python. About to swallow little mouse Mycroft whole.

You close the distance, forcing him to back away from his hiding spot. You have him on the ropes now. All you have to do is put one foot between his and he falls over on his bed.

You lean over him, smelling his skin and flicking your tongue over the rivulets of sweat. Fear. Fear and remorse. You spread his legs roughly apart.

"Please," he injects. Your head tilts, and you are unsure whether to silence him or listen. "Just tell me--is he alright?"

Your mouth curls and you lick your lips. Well that is a secret between you and Sherlock's remains, isn't it?
Previous post Next post
Up