Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6632938.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Mycroft_Holmes/Sherlock_Holmes
  Character:
      Mummy_(Sherlock), Mycroft_Holmes, Sherlock_Holmes
  Additional Tags:
      Public_Hand_Jobs, What_Have_I_Done, Incest, Consensual_Underage_Sex, It's
      not_underage_in_the_UK, How_Do_I_Tag, Internal_Conflict, Blackmail_
      (Kinda), Sibling_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-23 Words: 1562
****** Blackmail and Tableclothes ******
by kaffee_mit_zucker
Summary
     Sherlock is sick of boring dinners, so he decides to kill two birds
     with one stone - making them interesting and pissing off Mycroft.
Notes
     While Sherlock is sixteen in this fic, making it perfectly legal for
     him to have sex in the UK, I have tagged as underage to cover my
     back.
     I don't endorse incest, this is merely a work of fiction.
Sherlock really disliked, no, make that hated, when his parents forced him to
play the role of a perfect son for visiting business men or heads of companies.
He was sixteen, for heaven's sakes, he was far too old to keep spending his
time pandering to ageing men whose sole interest was money.

The entire situation was only made worse by Mycroft who, when he was around,
was the perfect son his parents tried to make him be, at least in their eyes.
Sherlock could tell that he was smoking (the ash on his sleeve and the burn on
his hand), drinking far too much (three sets of keys lost in a month) and
shagging his thirty something year old male professor (the look on his face
when he receives a text). He was almost tempted to tell his parents, just to
get them to stop telling him to be more like his brother. Then again, having
something over Mycroft is always entertaining...

Three hours later, forced into a slightly ill fitting suit (brilliant side
effect of growth spurts), Sherlock was seated opposite his brother at a dining
room table filled with overly self-absorbed rich men. They were at the end of
the table, and were more than close enough to kick each other. Sherlock knew.
He'd done it enough times.

To distract himself from the dull conversation to his right, Sherlock decided
to come up with some evil scheme to embarrass his brother. He stared intently
at his soup as he pondered, in an effort to avoid Mycroft deducing his
intentions. The tap of a foot against his shin suggested he had failed in that
objective.

Looking up, Sherlock had to resist the temptation to breathe a sigh of relief.
The stare that Mycroft gave him showed that while he could tell there was
scheming ongoing, he didn't have any idea what exactly would happen next.

Rather than immediately revealing his plan when his elder brother expected it,
Sherlock returned to barely eating his food. The clink of a spoon against the
edge of a bowl opposite him betrayed his brother's slight nervousness. Good,
Sherlock thought with an internal grin.

After a short while and a bowl of soup had gone by, Sherlock finally moved to
put his plan into action. Under the table, he carefully peeled his feet from
his shoes, as silently as possible. Doing his best to avoid brushing against
anybody, he placed his foot at the very edge of Mycroft's chair, between his
slightly parted legs. This, Sherlock, thought to himself, had to be his best
idea for embarrassing his sibling so far. Mycroft could never actually blame
him, not with what that would mean. Even better, he finally had a way to act on
the desires he had been hiding for years.

Inching his sock clad toes forwards, the younger brother finally reached his
target- the elder brother's fabric-clad cock. He pressed against it in a way
that was a little on the rough side, but probably still pleasurable for his
brother. Judging by the sudden gasp Mycroft gave and the twitch of his quickly
filling cock, it was very pleasurable. Instantly, Mycroft grabbed for his
brother's foot, only to be interrupted by a ping from his pocket.

"You choose. Walk away, and embarrass our dear parents. Stop me, and I tell
them about the professor. Or try and keep up your perfect mask while I keep
doing that."

Mycroft almost, so very nearly, stood and left. But he knew how important this
business deal was to his parents, and they would be ever so disappointed if he
messed it up for them. Still, Sherlock was his brother. It wouldn't be right...
Even without the blackmail, it was tempting to do nothing, but it was his
brother...

Had Sherlock even had sex? Mycroft thought for a moment. Judging by his current
confidence (and the look on his face the last time anybody had mentioned his
friend Victor), he started having sex months ago. It wouldn't be like he was
taking his brother's virginity

Instead of moving, either himself or the foot, Mycroft text his brother back.

"Sherlock, it's wrong. It's incest! You can't seriously think this is a good
idea."

The raised eyebrow Sherlock gave told him one thing- he knew. Oh dear God, he
knew. He knew that his elder brother wanted to grab him and screw him into the
mattress, even before. He was doomed. Either Sherlock would taunt and tease and
flirt with him, or he would use it as blackmail to ruin him. His panic was
interrupted by another ping.

"Calm down. It's not like I'm going to call the police. I'm doing this of my
own free will. Now hurry up and choose."

Mycroft sighed. There was no choice, not really, and he knew it. Part of him
was well aware of how wrong this was, but the other, larger part was insisting
that Sherlock only does what he wants to and was old enough to consent.
Swallowing his pride, Mycroft tapped out two words.

"I'll stay."

The slight smirk on Sherlock's face was perturbing to say the least.
Uncontrollably, Mycroft's cock got harder as he wondered what his brother was
scheming. A moment or so passed, as he typed and then:

"For what, brother mine?"

The toes against the older of the pair's cock twitched. Internally, Mycroft
groaned. He knew what Sherlock wanted of him, but he had some pride. He wasn't
going to say it. He most certainly wasn't going to ask for it. Even if the idea
of it did make him even harder. With an outward sigh, he replied:

"So you can blackmail me, and take sick pleasure in making everybody here think
less of me"

Sherlock glanced at his brother as the text came through. Mycroft really
believed that was the only reason that he was doing this. Internally, he rolled
his eyes. Obviously, his brother was too scared of what Sherlock might think of
him to see what was right in front of him. At that moment, Mycroft was focussed
intently on his food.

"Look at me."

Slightly confused, Mycroft did so. For the first time in months, he actually
looked at his brother and didn't just see- he observed. He noticed Sherlock's
slightly enlarged pupils, the soft flush in his cheeks and the measured length
of his breaths. And he finally understood.

"You like me?"

The snort Sherlock gave drew the attention of the nearby businessmen. Sherlock
waved them off, excusing his actions when he caught his mother's glare from
down the table.

"You really think that I would get you off at a table full of potential
business partners of the family if I didn't?"

"Of course you would!"

This, Sherlock conceded, was probably true.

"Yes, I do, idiot. Now, what do you want me to do to you?"

Hundreds of wonderful possibilities rushed through Mycroft's head, but there
was only one that he really wanted at that moment. With slightly unsteady
fingers, a straining cock and a glance to his fellow diners, Mycroft slowly
tapped out,

"Whatever you want."

Sherlock's jaws dropped, and for a moment his eyes fluttered shut. He quickly
righted himself, checking that nobody had noticed. This was so much more than
he had expected. He had thought his brother would tell him to sod off or to
wait, at least. But this... His brother had a submissive streak! How had he
missed that?

For a moment, Sherlock contemplated his options. He could do so much... For
now, however, he would settle for sticking with his original plan.

He tapped his foot against Mycroft's clothed erection, and the elder twitched.
While stroking his foot up and down, he pondered whether or not he could make
his brother come like this. Even if he could, he decided, he wouldn't. He'd
just keep Mycroft hard and desperate. He'd spend the entire meal making him
squirm.

Mycroft was completely focussed on not letting his pleasure show on his face
when his phone buzzed.

"Can you get your cock out without anyone seeing?"

Mycroft sucked in a sharp breath. God, that was a hot idea. But was it safe? Of
course not. Then again, that was part of the thrill... Slowly and ever so
carefully, he slipped his zip down, and slid his erection free, under the cover
of the long tablecloth. His hand brush against Sherlock's leg, and their eyes
met above the table.

And then the teasing started in earnest.

Sherlock spent what felt to Mycroft like hours stroking and pressing and
grinding his foot against him. It was almost too much, it nearly pushed him
over the edge. Still, somehow, he managed to maintain control. At least, he did
until Sherlock slid under the table under the pretext of retrieving a fallen
napkin (not that there was anybody paying attention who needed the lie).

All it took was three tugs of his brother's hand on his dick, and he came.
Through it all, he forced himself to remain staring at his food, and to stay
silent. When Sherlock reappeared from underneath the table, he had a huge grin
on his face. Mycroft was certain that was a bad sign, and he was sure he would
soon start to feel the guilt, but for now at least, he enjoyed the high.
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