Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9665165.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Mycroft_Holmes/Sherlock_Holmes, Mycroft_Holmes_&_Sherlock_Holmes,
      Sherlock_Holmes_&_Greg_Lestrade, Sherlock_Holmes/Greg_Lestrade
  Character:
      Sherlock_Holmes, Mycroft_Holmes, Greg_Lestrade
  Additional Tags:
      Omega_Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Omega_Sherlock,
      Alpha_Mycroft, Alpha_Greg_Lestrade, Breeding, Mounting, Mating_Cycles/In
      Heat, Mates, Puppy_Play, Dynamics, Kinda, BDSM, Bad_BDSM_Etiquette, Not
      Safe_Sane_and_Consensual, Breeding_stand, Sibling_Incest, Incest,
      Siblings, Sibling_Rivalry, Discussion_of_mpreg, No_actual_mpreg, Smut,
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Dark, Dark_Mycroft, Poor_Sherlock,
      Power_Play, Power_Dynamics, Sex_Toys, Toys, Vibrators, Weird_Biology, Age
      Difference, age_gap, Knotting, Bondage, Punishment, Corporal_Punishment,
      Sexual_Abuse, Sherlock_likes_it, And_Mycroft_tries_to_do_what_is_'best
      for_him', Doesn't_make_this_any_less_good, tho, unprotected_sex, Sex,
      Anal_Sex, Rough_Sex, Underage_Sex, Mating
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-12 Completed: 2017-03-06 Chapters: 5/5 Words: 16124
****** Learning his place ******
by Violencio
Summary
     Omega!Sherlock (16) was sent to live with Alpha!Mycroft (mid
     thirties) in a try to make him finally behave like a good Omega
     should. And in a way, it might have worked. After two months,
     Sherlock was eating at least twice a day, was going to nicely to his
     Omega-schooling twice a week and to bed at ten every night, didn't go
     out on his own anymore, woke up early and even put the kettle on for
     Mycroft's tea without him having to ask. And still... Mummy will not
     quite be satisfied until Sherlock learns how to take a knot. And with
     a little help, Mycroft has just found what is going to keep his sweet
     baby brother in place.
     Needless to say, Sherlock is not very... happy with the breeding
     stand, standing proudly in the middle of the living room.
Notes
     Script of a brilliant RP I have. Of course, posted with the agreement
     of my partner, who'd prefer to stay anonymous. Minor editing for
     reading flow etc. happened -- but please keep in mind that the RP
     hasn't been originally written to be published.
     This is some pretty dark shit. I'm sure you will like it, if the tags
     didn't throw you of. x
     Updates will probably follow two, three times a week in about this
     size, and will also probably just be the key smut scenes.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
When Mummy had sent Sherlock to live with his older brother Mycroft, the
sixteen-year-old thought he knew exactly why. He was petulant and stubborn and
disrespectful and very, very little interested in being mounted, mated, bonded.
And Mycroft was simply meant to fix that, stricter and more dominating and more
Alpha than Mummy and Father ever were. And in a way, it might have worked.
After two months, Sherlock was eating at least twice a day, was going to nicely
to his Omega-schooling twice a week and to bed at ten every night, didn't go
out on his own anymore, woke up early and even put the kettle on for Mycroft's
tea without him having to ask. But... It was still clear that he was rejecting
any Alpha. He was growling at any of Mycroft's friends that just glanced too
long at him, he might have bitten one, even, he was rejecting any showcase of
respect, didn't present or expose himself in any way that might seem to be
desirable to an Alpha.
Sherlock heard Mycroft and Mummy phone often lately. He assumed it was because
his heat was approaching - and certainly he couldn't stay with his Alpha
brother for that week. He heard Mummy sob about 'how proud she'd be if he just
accepted the knot of an Alpha' - but Sherlock just rolled his eyes and ignored
that otherwise. He even ignored Mycroft promising that he'd make sure of that.
Something about a friend having some equipment... No equipment of the world
could make Sherlock want to stay with an Alpha. Or so he thought.
It was the day before his heat, he already felt it slowly approaching, probably
going to hit him this night. Mycroft hasn't mentioned it, but he was sure Mummy
was going to pick him up this afternoon. Right after his Omega class. Right?
A thick metal framework was placed into the living room. A large metal base,
nearly the length of Sherlock's body and twice the width, two thick metal
poles, one a bit taller than the other, protruded it, lined with soft leather,
six thick leather buckles set at it, meant to secure hips, neck, arms, feet. A
breeding stand.
Sherlock knew that they were used for dogs that couldn't be trusted to stay
still during mating, but somehow he knew that this one wasn't meant for dogs at
all. "Mycroft?", he called loudly, his voice a little hoarse. He had run up the
stairs to Mycroft's apartment after he was picked up from school, Mycroft as
always taking his time. The breeding stand... It wasn't there before Sherlock
had been brought to school, he knew that. "What is that?", he asked as his
brother finally appeared in the door, looking a bit alarmed, pointing at the
large gear standing in the middle of the living room.
It was time that Sherlock was put in his place, no matter what it took. Mummy
had made that very clear to him, and he was happy to accept the challenge.
Mycroft had made plenty of progress in the way he was behaving, making sure he
was doing what Omegas his age should. The only problem that he'd had was
keeping him used to other Alphas. Yes, Sherlock was fine around Mycroft because
he didn't expect him to do anything, but every time he'd had a friend come over
to interact with Sherlock, he'd done nothing but lash out at them. It had
gotten to the point where a few had even refused to come over and see him
again, which had been rather frustrating. If Sherlock wasn't going to
cooperate, he knew he'd have to take more drastic measures. One of his friends
had mentioned something that he'd had in his parents' home for a while, as his
mother hadn't been very cooperative when she'd first been promised to his
father, and even offered to let Mycroft borrow it. It was more simple than he'd
been expecting. After Sherlock had gone to school, he'd brought the equipment
over and helped Mycroft set it up. Once everything was put together and the
height was properly adjusted, Mycroft sent Greg into the other room to wait.
Now, all that was left was to let Sherlock come home.
When his younger brother arrived in the car, he was already displaying signs of
his heat. Mycroft had noticed the scent the second he'd picked him up from
school, which was perfect timing. The ride home was short, and as usual,
Sherlock ran right up the stairs, not suspecting a thing. That gave Mycroft
time to close and lock the door behind him in case his younger brother decided
that he didn't want to cooperate. "You have made it clear that you won't do
this willingly, Sherlock." He stood at the entrance to the living room, hands
folded neatly behind his back. "Now, you may either choose to cooperate, or I
will make sure you do." He didn't alert him to Greg's presence, not yet. It
would only frighten him further, and Mycroft didn't want to do that until
Sherlock refused to cooperate on his own. "If you must get a drink or go to the
bathroom, do it now. Quickly. If not, we can begin." There was no telling how
long Sherlock would be strapped in before Mycroft decided it was time to give
him a break. Knowing Sherlock, he'd whine and protest in the beginning, using
any excuse he could to get out. It would be best to offer him the chance now to
do whatever he needed, so he couldn't try using that as an excuse later.
Maybe, if Sherlock wasn't this flabbergasted, he might have noticed the strange
scent in the flat. The additional Alpha, waiting, lurking in another room.
But... Sherlock did not. He probably wouldn't even have had if there was not a
big contraception standing in the middle of the living room that was meant to
hold him in place. He would have been too busy huffing and puffing and starting
to think about what he'd have to take home and pester Mycroft about when their
mother was going to pick him up and if he really would have to come back after
his heat. Just now, though, he realised, that the lack of Mycroft mentioning
Mummy wasn't because it was obvious that she was going to come, but because
Mycroft didn't want her to come.
"I--", he started, not quite sure what to say, eyes big as saucers, and very
wary of Mycroft's movement. "You aren't serious, right?", he asked, choking out
a bit of a laugh, before extending a hand towards the breeding stand. It was
probably some kind of dummy. Something just to scare Sherlock to agree with
Mycroft and be compliant, but Sherlock wouldn't be fooled this easily. It
certainly wouldn't be able to hold him down, right? Sherlock tried to lift the
contraception with one hand - then both, but the heavy metal didn't even move
from the ground. It wasn't... It frankly was meant not to be lifted by Omegas,
Sherlock's lithe frame certainly not doing him any favours either. His wide
eyes met Mycroft again, a bit of terror sliding through him.
"No, no, no, no, no. We can - We cannot begin, don't be stupid, you don't think
I'll just -- Mycroft, no.", he started, his voice a little weak, but growing
louder as he grew more agitated, taking a step back. Away from his brother,
away from the breeding stand. "I am sure -- Look, Mummy would never be okay
with that, you can't just - no.", he tried it, his brain weakened by fear and
his heat approaching fast. All these emotions now were just stirring it up
further, though Sherlock knew, or at least he hoped to know, that he'd have at
least one more, maybe two hours before things started to get bad. But
certainly, Mycroft was going to listen if Sherlock mentioned Mummy, right? She
might be interested in him starting to accept the Alphas around him, but even
she couldn't have wanted her youngest son being strapped down and taken by his
older brother, right?
Now, it wasn't completely unheard of that Alpha and Omega siblings entertained
each other, helped each other through the heats, even mated, bonded. But...
Sherlock and Mycroft? Sherlock had never considered that. Especially not as
Mycroft had already left for University before Sherlock even presented. Then
again... It was hardly his choice, was it? "Mycroft.", he said, his voice a
little dryer as he shook his head. He would - bolt for the front door if he
could, or even just into his room and try to close the door behind him with a
chair or his desk. But there was no way Mycroft was going to just let him run
off now, and getting outside while just approaching his heat was also not a
good idea. So he was stuck in the living room, not really having any way to
escape. "Mycroft, please. I - I told you, I don't want - I don't want any
Alpha, I don't want any of this...", he tried it, his voice ending in a soft
whimper, his hands shaking a little, going to shrink back from Mycroft though
without any second thought if he approached him.
Poor Sherlock had been completely stunned by this. If that hadn't been
Mycroft's plan from the start, he might've felt bad for him. "I've already
talked to Mummy; she knows exactly what I'm doing. She said she can't wait." Of
course, she'd fussed and wanted to make sure that her darling little Sherlock
wouldn't be hurt, but once Mycroft had assured her that he'd be as gentle as
could be with him, he could hear the relief and excitement in her voice at the
thought of Sherlock finally cooperating. Besides, who better to take care of
him during his heat than Mycroft? Mummy herself had said that he was the only
Alpha he felt comfortable with, meaning unless they wanted to traumatise
Sherlock, he would be the only one permitted to be with him for his first heat
shared with someone. Mycroft took a few steps closer to him, frowning when he
shrunk away. "Sherlock, you're being ridiculous. Everything will be fine, don't
worry." It was too risky to proceed alone. Sherlock might be smaller and much
weaker than Mycroft, but he was quick. He needed someone else, and thankfully,
Greg was waiting just in the other room.
"Gregory," he called, jaw hardened as he watched Sherlock closely. The other
man joined them seconds later, not at all hesitating. He grabbed Sherlock
before he had a chance to get away, tightly gripping onto one of his arms and
holding him in place. Mycroft took the opportunity to tug his trousers off so
that they wouldn't get in the way, but decided to leave Sherlock's pants on
until after Greg had left. Sherlock was his, and his alone. With a steadying
hand on Sherlock's back, Greg guided him down onto the contraption, keeping him
as still as possible while Mycroft made any last-minute adjustments. Once
everything was in place, he began working with the straps. First, he secured
his hips tightly into place, giving him absolutely no room for movement. It
would even make taking his pants off later difficult. After that, he grabbed
onto his arms and pinned them into place, also securing those straps tightly.
He was a bit gentler with his feet and gave him a bit more room to adjust if he
needed to, as well as his neck. All said and done, the task took under a
minute. "Thank you, Gregory. I can handle him from here." Even though Greg
looked like he'd rather stay, Mycroft showed him out.
Finally, they were alone. Finally, Sherlock had no choice but to give in. He
stood behind him near the entry to the living room for a moment, giving him
time to relax and fully adjust himself. Getting comfortable may not be an
option, but at least he could get used to it. After he'd deemed the time plenty
long enough, he cleared his throat. "I didn't want to have to do this,
Sherlock. You left me with no other option."
Sherlock's face fell a little. He had at the very least expected Mycroft not to
have told her, so maybe, maybe he would have the upper hand once he got to talk
to Mummy. It would be mostly too late at that point either way, but at least he
would have someone on his side to get some revenge. It made shudder to think
that Mycroft would have spoken to Mummy about this all together, blushing
deeply to think how he'd share that he was planning to mount his little
brother.
"I- She didn't.", Sherlock claimed, but he hardly sounded convinced, and maybe
it was even believable that she was looking forward to it. Mummy always seemed
to expect that Sherlock would just... settle down when he got knotted for the
first time. "I am being ridiculous? You are the one who set a breeding stand
up!", Sherlock retorted, voice cascading louder as he spoke, even if it still
sounded a bit hoarse, a bit out of place, while Sherlock took steady steps back
from Mycroft, holding his hands in front of him in a try to make Mycroft keep
his distance. In an hour or two, he wasn't sure if he would be able to do that
either. He had to lock himself somewhere until then... The bathroom, maybe.
Before Sherlock could try to feign cooperation to claim that he needed to use
the toilet one more time, Mycroft was calling out someone. "What?", Sherlock
asked, confused as his eyebrows furrowed. If the man hadn't introduced himself
with his last name they had met, Sherlock might have reacted differently, but
for the moment he couldn't place a face with the name at all. As the man
emerged, though, hell broke loose for Sherlock. He darted. Just straight ahead,
he bolted, aiming for the front door, even if he had to get between the two
Alphas. Greg's large hands were quicker and stronger though, and it hardly took
him any work to catch the boy and lift him by his shoulders, while Sherlock was
shouting bloody murder, trying to kick and free himself, while breathing 'Oh my
god, oh my god, oh my god' between his shouts.
He even went so far and bit Greg in his arm, but the Alpha seemed hardly
bothered. Instead, his scent just seemed to intensify, the Alpha seeming oddly
excited. ...logical, really. An Omega biting an Alpha in heat and the other way
around usually meant something completely different, and Greg's body knew that.
Sherlock, though, couldn't believe it. Not only was Mycroft strapping him down
like a bitch in heat (well, maybe he was part of that), he was also going to
let his friend join in? Or watch them? Sherlock hadn't known the two were so
close to share an Omega, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. "No!", he
begged as his brother pulled his trousers down, humiliation colouring his
cheeks a deep, red colour, and he whimpered softly. He had no interest in being
exposed in front of either, and he might have been silently grateful that his
pants stayed in place. Any bit of gratefulness was forgotten, though, as
Mycroft worked the straps onto him, the other pair of strong hands holding him
down and in place, and was it not for the intense fear and panic, his instincts
might have even let him enjoy that. Being locked down. Pressed into place by a
pair of highly fertile, potent Alphas. And while his heat wasn't on enough just
yet to soak his thighs, it did make his little cock swell in his pants, making
Sherlock whimper even more humiliated.
In a slightly better twist of events, though, Mycroft actually asked Greg to
leave, and relief made Sherlock sack for a moment. His hips and chest had no
chance for movement, his slim tummy sacking in between, his hands bound quite
tightly to the pole. His feet had a bit of leeway, but not nearly enough to
slip out of them again, making him grunt in frustration.
"Sure, no worries, Mycroft, was a pleasure.", Greg reassured, though longing
eyes glanced back over to Sherlock as he moved outside the flat. "Maybe...", he
started, before he cleared his throat, arousal thickening his voice. "Maybe you
won't mind to give me a call in a day or two, mh? Wouldn't mind taking a round,
and you know how demanding they can be during their first shared heat...", he
offered, licking his lips. Probably not, he knew that, but Mycroft had not flat
out refused. There was a good week ahead for the two of them, maybe a bit more,
maybe a bit less, and maybe there would just be a nice time slot for Greg too.
Sherlock tried to work on his straps, trashing against them as Mycroft was
coming back from the front door, but he was neither moving the straps, nor the
contraception itself. He was locked down, and Sherlock's fingers weren't nearly
long enough to work his wrists out. Maybe if he had all night... So he stopped
his violent movement as Mycroft came back, trying not to give him any reason to
believe that he had to tighten the straps. "You bastard.", he replied, before
holding back a sniffle. Couldn't even rub his face against anything, the strap
on the back of his neck holding his head in place as well. Mostly just so he
couldn't lift his chest from the stand, Sherlock knew that, any try making him
choke. Any movement at all made the straps press uncomfortably into his soft
flesh. Sensitive as well, now that it wasn't long anymore for his heat to truly
unravel. "I gotta pee.", he claimed, setting his jaw, trying to glare up at
Mycroft but even that was difficult.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
As nice as it would be to have someone else come over and take care of Sherlock
for a bit, he wasn't sure he'd take Greg up on his offer. He did send him a
text, though, thanking him once again and telling him that he might call him
later if he needed it. For now, though, he was perfectly fine.
Sherlock was secure, and now, Mycroft just had to wait for him to get a bit
further into his heat before he tried anything.
He moved closer to him, admiring the pale skin of his thighs. He should've
taken his shirt off, but this was enough for the moment. Mycroft was well aware
that the hardest part would be the first time he tried to mount him. Sherlock
was in a position where he couldn't protest, but it would be early on in his
heat, so he'd still have enough control over himself to protest and complain.
After that, though, things would be much easier. Sherlock would be weaker, and
even though he would no doubt try to keep Mycroft away, he was sure that by the
end of the week he'd be spread out in Mycroft's bed, begging for him to return
even when he only left for a few moments. Really, he wouldn't have to use the
stand for much longer. Maybe a day or two, and he'd probably need it if he
decided he'd let Greg have a go, but that was it. Eventually, Sherlock would
give in.
"I gave you the opportunity to do that earlier. You didn't take it." He
hesitated for a moment before reaching his hand down, lightly guiding
Sherlock's head down into a more comfortable position. Once it was where he
wanted it to be, he ran his fingers through the curly hair.
"You'll enjoy this. I know you're frightened, but you will." It would be
preferable to spending it alone and in agony, Mycroft was sure of that. Once he
could break down Sherlock's pride enough, he'd realize that this wasn't so bad.
Perhaps he'd want to spend more heats with his brother, and maybe he'd even
want to stay permanently. He couldn't get his hopes up yet, though. He had to
make sure things went well this time.
The hand in his hair moved down to run over his back, following the slight dip
from the stand.
"You look lovely like this." Maybe a few compliments would get him to relax,
voluntarily or not. He knew that at this point, his body was starting to crave
the attention from Alphas. He'd put him on a nice diet that Sherlock had been
following rather well, so he'd have plenty of strength to get himself through
this heat.
His body had benefitted, as well. No more was he a scrawny little Omega. He was
still thin, of course, but at least now he didn't look emaciated and exhausted
all the time from his bad sleeping and eating habits. Really, Sherlock would be
the perfect Omega, if it wasn't for his stubbornness. Once Mycroft worked that
out of him, there would be no flaws that anyone could find with him.
"So you want me to piss on the floor?", Sherlock asked with another huff,
slightly disappointed that Mycroft hasn't placed the stand onto the carpet.
Then again... He couldn't. He wouldn't. He was already treated like an animal,
he was not going to behave like one, soil himself like an untrained puppy. It
would, honestly, humiliate himself far more than it was worth having Mycroft
swear and get some kitchen paper to clean up.
Sherlock huffed a little as his brother extended a hand for his head, trying to
shake it off, but even that was difficult. The leather on the stand might have
been soft, but it still dug against him if he moved too much, quite to his
unhappiness.
"Leave me alone.", he tried to demand, but the position he was in was already
tearing on his composure. It was humiliating, would have been even without
Mycroft pulling down his trousers in front of a stranger (well, not quite.
Sherlock had met Greg before. And growled at him. And slapped his hand away.
And that was... even though he might be Sherlock's favourite among Mycroft's
friends. Greg had at least an interesting job with interesting stories to tell.
Even if Sherlock preferred to listen from the other room than in closer
proximity.), and the humiliation was not going to let him stay so cheeky for
long, not when the heat of his cheeks, chest and tummy mixed with his
instincts.
"I'm not frightened.", Sherlock bluffed and huffed once more, but he was. Quite
so. Even during his heat, he had trouble working some of his larger toys in.
Knowing that Mycroft was not only going to be longer, but also have a far
larger girth... Even without the knot. It made Sherlock shudder, goose bumps
covering his exposed, milky thighs. His trousers' legs were still trapped at
his feet, his shirt a little sticky from all the trashing and kicking.
"Shut-- Shut up.", Sherlock replied to the compliment, flustered as he squirmed
in the stand as little as he could. He was just exhausting himself, he
realised, it wasn't going to help, but... he quite couldn't stop. Except he
could, his muscles stopping to work before his mind could really tell them to,
realising that it was to no avail.
"What- what if I get pregnant?", Sherlock asked, trying to find a reason why
this was not a good idea, sobbing a little once more, mostly because he truly
started to understand how hopeless this was. And that, in exchange meant, that
he also started to understand what was going to happen. "With - with all those
vitamins and supplies you- you ensured yourself that I'm fertile."
Well. Sherlock was rather hoping that Mycroft really was just trying to ensure
that he was healthy, but in the end of the day, it meant the same thing.
Sherlock even felt that his own scent was different than it usually was during
early heats. Far riper... And well. Vitamins and supplies rather meant a
balanced life style, but... All the same, if it could just bring Mycroft to
change his mind.
Mycroft snorted. "Do it. I don't care." He'd given Sherlock the opportunity to
go to the bathroom earlier, and he hadn't taken it. Granted, he'd been in a
state of shock and probably didn't understand what was going on, but at least
he'd made the offer. It would be annoying if Sherlock actually did make a mess,
but it wouldn't be all that bad. He'd just wipe off the base and move on. Even
though Sherlock insisted he wasn't frightened, Mycroft knew that was the
opposite of the truth. He was afraid, it was easy to tell. Most of it might be
from nerves, but fear was fear. Until he'd grown comfortable with having
Mycroft inside of him, he'd most likely continue to be frightened. A small
sacrifice, though, for the pleasure that both of them would get out of this.
"You won't get pregnant," he insisted. He might, and thanks to the daily
supplements he'd had each day that chance was higher, but he was sure that he'd
be fine. It was his first heat with someone. The chances were lower, even if it
wasn't by much. His body wouldn't know quite how to react until later in the
week, and by then their encounters would be less frequent.
If something did go wrong, if Sherlock did turn out as fertile as Mycroft had
hoped, he'd settle things. Having a pregnant Sherlock would be a bit of an
annoyance, but at least it would keep him tied to Mycroft. They could worry
about that if they came to it. He wasn't going to ruin his mood by thinking
over the possible consequences.
It would still be another hour or two before Mycroft would dare to attempt
mounting him, but there was no reason he couldn't spend that time preparing
Sherlock both physically and mentally. He cared for him, after all, and didn't
want him to be uncomfortable and terrified leading up to it.
He bent down to lightly tug the trousers off from where they'd been trapped on
his foot, straightening after that. His hand lightly rubbed Sherlock's lower
back before moving down to the bottom of the leg of his pants. It took a few
good tugs, but eventually, they came loose and slid down his pale thighs. It
would be impossible to take them off thanks to the way his legs were spread and
tied, but that was quite alright for the time being. This would give him plenty
to work with, and Sherlock had the security of being able to be covered again
if Mycroft wished it.
"How are you feeling?" He could see the effects of his head thanks to the lack
of clothing now, but they weren't at all where they needed to be before he was
willing to begin.
And somehow, Mycroft sounded sure of that. Had he been smuggling contraceptives
into his food? Sherlock knew that in most cases, contraceptives were quite...
illegal. In very few exceptions they would be granted, mostly to sooth the heat
itself so it wouldn't overbear the Omega, but Mycroft, with his 'minor position
in the British Government', Sherlock was sure he'd be able to get a few if he
really wanted them.
Then again... Sherlock's heat didn't feel weaker so far. Stronger, rather. And
while that was probably also because of all the exhaustion the Omega went
through, it should have been dampened with contraception. Right?
Or maybe his body would reject Mycroft's sperm. Some hidden mechanism in an
Omega's body to ensure that no pups came from too close relations... Was that
possible? Sherlock should have paid better attention in his classes, he frankly
didn't know.
He didn't... didn't know much about how mounting worked, if he was fair. He
never thought it would affect him, so why would he bother to think about it?
Learn about it? Now though, he wished he had paid attention a bit closer
instead of doodling fat caricatures of his brother into his notepad.
"And - and what if you bond me?", he croaked out his next question. Mother
might be looking forward to Sherlock - he shuddered again - taking an Alpha's
knot, but she certainly didn't want them to start something unbreakable? And at
least he has been told to avoid younger Alphas, because they would very quickly
get very... bitey. Then again... Mycroft really wasn't a young Alpha. He had
presented a good, long while ago. The chance of him just jumping a random Omega
and biting their nape was almost zero. But maybe that was different when
Sherlock was in heat?
"Don't- don't do that.", Sherlock pleaded again as his brother tugged at his
underwear, cool fingers moving over his thighs - have they quivered before?
Hopefully - and catching the leg of his boxers right beneath Sherlock's
buttcheeks. For a moment Sherlock was confused why it took so long. Did Mycroft
really consider to leave them on? ...no. The strap was just tight enough that
even moving the thinnest fabric was difficult to remove. He was locked quite
tightly in position. And for some reason, that made his little cock twitch
again.
He might have understood why it had been asking for attention when Greg was
pressing him down, a lot of pheromones dancing in the air, but... this?
Sherlock assumed it was just... natural. Getting aroused, simply because it was
his heat and a potent Alpha was close.
Too close.
Touching him, quite intimately. There certainly was no higher meaning to that,
right?
"Betrayed.", he said, because he wouldn't admit to 'scared'. He tried to move
his feet, trying to kick Mycroft standing behind him, not liking that he
couldn't see him, not liking that he was strapped down, not liking that he was
going to be mounted and not liking that his body thought that maybe he did like
it, but there really wasn't enough leeway for that. Especially not with his
boxers hanging over his socks. His opening was still nice and tight, but a soft
layer of sweat was starting to cover him, and Sherlock mostly felt it on his
arms now. Usually, his shirt was the first thing he removed while getting
comfortable for the next four days of agony. ...and now, his body in a far
better condition, it wouldn't stop at four, Sherlock could bet. "How are you
gonna get my shirt off, sleepy, huh? With my arms attached to this trash here,
you won't just be able to slide it down and let it hang."
The next question was much harder to answer. Mycroft had relatively good
control over himself, but that had been one of his other concerns. That was why
both he and his mother had been hesitant to bring in another Alpha, making
things even more unpredictable. Mycroft trusted his friends, and definitely
trusted Greg, but he wasn't sure if he trusted him enough to let him near his
younger brother when he was so irresistible. He supposed that he could
entertain the possibility of bonding to Sherlock.
"What if I did?" Mycroft certainly wouldn't mind. He was reaching the age where
he needed an Omega around, but didn't have the time to put in the upkeep
required with courting one and making sure they were a good fit.
Sherlock, though, would be a different story. He wouldn't mind leaving him
alone at home for longer periods of time, and they understood each other well.
Out of anyone in the world, Mycroft knew Sherlock the most. He was the only one
that understood him and how his mind worked. It would be a rather nice fit, and
although children would still be an issue, he was sure they'd be alright. There
were plenty of Alphas who took their siblings as mates, and although the
chances for problems were higher, they weren't that high. If they had children
that neither he or Sherlock could take care of, he was sure their mother would
be more than happy to take in the little ones.
He lightly tugged his shirt up to expose some of his back, letting it rest in
the middle of his chest. "It's fine. It won't get in the way." Perhaps it would
be a discomfort to Sherlock, but that could be dealt with. He'd hardly notice
it once he got what his body was craving. The pale skin was starting to flush
with heat, and Mycroft lightly brushed away some of the sweat with his sleeve.
Maybe it would be best to take it off... He could at least slip his arm out one
by one, and then pull it off of his head. It wouldn't be so difficult. With an
annoyed sigh, he knelt down, starting to undo one of the straps of his arms.
"If you try to get out, I'll leave you in here all night and wait until morning
to mount you," he warned. Without any way to satisfy himself, Sherlock would be
in agony the entire time. Mycroft wasn't sure he'd be able to go through the
entire night resisting his cries and begs, but at least he'd delay it for a few
hours as punishment.
"Do you understand? I'm going to release your arm, and you will keep it
absolutely still. If I see you move it at all, you will face the consequences."
He fixed him with a stern gaze as he pulled the strap off, letting his arm hang
loose for a brief moment to test him.
Sherlock's breath stocked in his chest as Mycroft didn't say anything that
would imply that it wouldn't happen. No super-secret teeth caps the government
used, not even something silly like a thick collar or a scarf to at least make
biting him less appealing.
"N-noo...", Sherlock whined, shaking his head. He didn't want to be mated. And
he wanted to be bonded even less. If this was going to be a one-time thing...
Then Sherlock would be able to make sure it wasn't going to happen again. Would
make sure to hide somewhere when his heat started approaching. And if he still
insisted that he didn't want to be mounted or mated, maybe Mummy would let him
just come back home. Without Mycroft, or any other Alphas, or stupid breeding
stands. If Mycroft bond him though... That wasn't even a possibility anymore.
Sherlock would be stuck here, unable to avoid being mounted for a week four
times a year. ...probably more, right? An Alpha's sex drive... Sherlock had
even heard Mycroft masturbate before. Certainly nothing the Alpha would
consider if he was bonded.
"Mycroft, no, please.", he begged with a few more small sniffles, shaking his
head once more as good as he could.
"I'm -- I'm not concerned with it being in the way!", Sherlock huffed, sounding
quite offended. He'd be glad if it was in the way of Mycroft and him. Like this
though? It was just going to be a nuisance for Sherlock -- and of no effect on
Mycroft at all.
"You say that as if I would want you to- to... take me.", Sherlock mumbled
shyly, a little too flustered to use another word. He turned his head the other
way, not wanting to see Mycroft, not wanting to breathe Mycroft either. But...
he nodded a little, holding still. While it wasn't going to be nice that
Mycroft was going to mount him, Sherlock knew that a night in this here without
anything else was much more. Even without his heat - the boredom would kill
him. But now, that he was actually needing something to fill him? He'd go
insane, and the only thing that would keep him from hurting himself would be
the stand.
Sherlock remembered his first heat, when he had tried to prove to himself that
he was fine and didn't need any toys... He hardly kept himself together for
five hours, and he would be even less fortunate like this, not able to finally
grab any of the stupid dildos his mother had insisted on buying.
Oh god.
Thinking about them... Even those have been uncomfortable. And Sherlock always
made sure to order them in the smallest size. The medium ones were really only
good for the very peak of his heat, too... And the sales person had once
laughed at him, explaining quite nicely that even the smallest cock of an Alpha
was going to be bigger than the big dildo sold for Betas and young Omegas.
"How--", he started, trying to choke the question out. So he could prepare
himself, mentally, try to reassure himself that he'd be fine, somehow. "How big
are you?"
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos & Comments appreciated x
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Updates might be a bit slower for next week as I'm on holiday x
     Keep the triggers in mind (then again, I mean, the last two chapters
     were kinda obvious about where this is going), buuut it is time to
     put the seat belts on ;)
Sherlock seemed completely opposed to the idea of bonding. It wasn't all that
surprising, but it still made his heart sink just a bit.
"Fine. Calm down." He gently maneuvered his arm through the hole of his shirt,
tying it down once it was off and moving to the other side so he could repeat
the process.
There was nothing to be disappointed about, he told himself. Sherlock would
surely change his mind once he experienced this, as all Omegas did. There were
plenty who were hesitant, but once they knew what it was like, they begged to
be bonded. It was harder to get the other arm through, and he even tugged it
harshly in his frustration from Sherlock's outright protest before his shirt
was finally off. He'd tied them a bit looser, though, so that he would be able
to get the shirt off from around his neck easily.
"Don't worry," he assured him, not at all showing any outward concern. His
mother had sobbed at the thought of Sherlock not being able to handle an Alpha,
explaining that his toys were pathetically small. She'd tried to get him a
knotting one, but she said he complained that it was too big even though it was
in the smallest size.
Mycroft, though, was determined to make this work.
Yes, it would be overwhelming to him at first. However, Mycroft was going to go
slowly with him, stretching him and perhaps using one of the toys that their
mother had sent over to get him used to having something inside of him.
"You will be able to handle it." As difficult as it would be to contain
himself, he'd do it if he needed to for as long as Sherlock needed. Carefully,
he undid the final strap around his neck, putting a hand under his chest and
lifting him up enough so that he could slip it off. His other hand lightly
rubbed the reddened skin on his neck where the strap had been before he put it
back on again to stop any further temptation. The shirt was discarded and
forgotten on the floor.
"Tell me if this gets too uncomfortable for you." There wasn't much Mycroft
could do, but he'd try to accommodate for him as much as possible. If the
support on his neck was hurting him too much, he'd put a towel or blanket
underneath to make it a little softer and give him more cushion.
"Oi.", Sherlock complained as his shirt was tugged off his other arm rather
violently. Something was a tiny bit off, a tiny bit different from Mycroft's
self just a few moments ago, but Sherlock was a little bit too busy with
himself to pay much attention to that. He just winced away at the uncomfortable
tug, pouting a bit.
"You could at least be careful now.", he mewled unhappily. Before both of their
senses would make it rather impossible to be careful with anything, really.
"I'm not --" Well, he was. Worrying, quite a bit at that.
"That's not what I asked.", he huffed, letting his head hang down once the
shirt was finally pulled over his head.
"Give me- give me a number, Myc. C'mon, I'm sure you measured it, didn't you?
Don't you even get it measured at your physicals? Myc, please... How big is
it?" He hardly realised himself falling into a more and more pleading, whining
tone, but his mind was only able to handle so much before his steadily
approaching heat was tugging on it. He was pouting as well, as an unsatisfied
child would, not being given what he wanted.
"You mean more uncomfortable than being strapped down naked in your living
room?", Sherlock continued to pout, curling his toes a little. Would anyone be
able to see him like this? Through the windows? Sherlock wasn't even sure...
"Why are we here? And not in your room.", he asked. He was glad at least that
Mycroft didn't put it up in Sherlock's room. Mostly because... Well, he was
sure he would appreciate a place to hide for a while once all of this here was
over, without being sickened. The way Mycroft has touched his neck, though...
Right above his nape, right above his scent glands... Sherlock wasn't sure
anymore if it was sweat or something else running down the inner sides of his
buttocks.
Mycroft completely ignored Sherlock's begging, not in the mood to appease him.
It would only worry him more than was necessary. He wasn't one to boast, but he
was a big larger than most other Alphas. Admitting that to Sherlock at a time
like this would cause panic and really be more trouble than it was worth.
He did notice the shiver his body gave when his fingers touched his neck,
though, and he knew it was time to stop with the questions and get to work.
Sherlock's lovely scent was getting stronger and stronger by the minute.
"There wasn't enough room anywhere else," he replied. That had been the simple
reason. Greg had brought it in pieces, and Mycroft had wanted to make sure he'd
not only have enough room behind Sherlock, but would also easily be able to
move around him in case something went wrong and he needed to be unstrapped and
released.
He moved to the back to assess him again, deciding that it was the right time
to start. His hole had opened up more, slick beginning to leak from it. It was
a lovely sight to see. Mycroft cleared his throat and moved closer, resting a
steadying hand on his back. He might not be able to move very much, but he
didn't want him wiggling.
"Relax." This would be harder for the both of them if Sherlock was tensed up.
His other hand moved to his hole, lightly prodding at it to see where he was
at. If he'd wanted to, he could have pushed his finger in immediately, but
instead he decided to rub his finger against it to help it open up further.
"How does that feel?"
Sherlock groaned a little. "How dull.", he commented. But not everything could
be clever, not even his brother. And right now, he felt that he would give him
too much credit if it was clever in any way as well.
The thing itself was... rather large, but it was meant to stay in place. And it
did that, a little too well. Sherlock wondered if Mycroft would be able to lift
it by himself. It was clear that it could be dismantled, but that wasn't of
interest to Sherlock. At least if he didn't get the hold of a screwdriver. He
wanted to know if the Alpha would be able to lift things too heavy for Sherlock
to lift. But... Mycroft still didn't make any indications about his size, so
Sherlock doubted he was going to give him any statistics about how much weight
he was able to lift with each arm.
"What?", Sherlock asked. Truly Mycroft couldn't - he didn't want to start now,
right?
"No, n-no, you are far too early--", Sherlock started, sounding rather alarmed,
quite the opposite of relaxed.
Sherlock wouldn't even start looking for his toys yet!
Which was... Not always a good idea. For example, when Mummy had replaced his
box of nicely sized and well-approved toys with a massive knotting one. It had
a bit of a knot present, but Sherlock knew that it would expand a bit more if
the button on its base was pressed. That has been... Quite some trouble, with
Sherlock howling at his mother to get him his favourite ones back, while at the
same time quite persistent to ride his own hand.
Oh well. It hadn't happened since then, at least. His protests were interrupted
though as Mycroft placed a finger against him, just a bit of pressure coaxing
out another blob of slick, just the way a crackled groan was coaxed out of
Sherlock's throat. His cheeks grew pink, as did his chest, and he once more
tried to squirm away to no avail.
Instead, he rather wiggled his bum against his brother, thanks to how much
higher his hips were placed in comparison to his chest. The thing was
adjustable, Sherlock had gotten so much... He wondered if his hips were high
enough for Mycroft to take him while standing, or if his brother would still
need to kneel...
"Dis-disgusting.", Sherlock replied, because there was little else he could
say. He wasn't going to admit anything, even if it was so painfully obvious
like this.
The reaction from Sherlock's body told him that it was not at all too early to
start. It was practically begging him for more, and with the position helping
to spread him open, it would be quite easy to give it to him.
"Sherlock," he scolded when he started wiggling, not sure if he was trying to
get away or his body was trying to bring itself closer. Either way, it didn't
matter. He just wanted him to stay still, and if he needed to tighten the
straps again, he would do it. Maybe if Sherlock's body was reacting
differently, he would've paid more attention to what he was saying, but his
moan and the eagerness of his hole were enough to coax him on further.
Gently, he allowed his finger to slide inside. It was still rather tight, but
that was to be expected this early on. Hopefully, with something present, his
body would speed up the process and Mycroft wouldn't have to wait for another
hour before he was finally ready.
For a moment, he paused, looking back over to Sherlock's upper half. He looked
completely ready. It was hard to believe that an hour ago, Sherlock had been as
defiant as ever, waiting in the car and already talking about how he was going
to go home that night. To see him like this, completely and utterly exposed to
Mycroft's every wish, was quite the sight. As much as he liked it, though, he
was also looking forward to when Sherlock would really submit himself to him,
letting Mycroft hold him close and shower him with affection in bed and not
hooked up to a device that prevented him from protesting. Oh, well. The time
would come eventually. Until then, he was more than happy to settle with this.
"What about that?" He moved positions to stand behind Sherlock, moving the hand
to lightly hold onto his hip while his finger pulled out and pushed back in at
a slow pace.
"Does it hurt?" The toys he'd used were pathetically small, and Mycroft knew
his fingers were much thicker than Sherlock's. He wasn't used to this, at least
not at the start.
The young Omega whimpered softly as the thick digit slowly but steadily moved
its way inside, pushing through the still reasonably tight ring of muscle into
the slick, silken cavern. It wasn't bad per say, but it wasn't comfortable at
all. Sherlock would usually wait till his body opened itself up enough by its
own, not seeing a need to stretch himself, push himself through any discomfort
if his body was already uncomfortable enough, and just as sated by something
smaller -- as long as it hit all the important spots? Today, though, Sherlock's
body didn't quite seem to agree with his usual expectations of it. Sherlock
felt his sphincter basically pushing back against Mycroft's finger, pumping
slick and widening itself in a try to quite frankly suck him in deeper.
Usually, Sherlock only felt the slick pouring out - and not his body actually
doing any of the stretching work.
And god, it made him gasp. And fear once more that this was far too early.
Years too early, even.
Sherlock hiccupped lightly as the finger was removed and reinserted just as
carefully, his hole squeezing itself automatically, as if in joy for having
Mycroft's digit back. Sherlock wasn't too sure, but he might even feel Mycroft
pushing the still early cascades of slick around with the tip of his finger,
and the mere idea made the boy shudder. "Y-yes.", Sherlock said, but once more,
it didn't quite reflect the truth, merely meant as another try to get Mycroft
to stop. Soon enough, anything would be quite pointless... And somehow Sherlock
feared that would be even sooner because of the finger inside him.
With the way Sherlock was acting, Mycroft would have assumed that he was
enjoying himself. His body seemed to be reacting well to his finger, not
rejecting it and instead trying to draw it in further. He toyed with it a bit,
slightly curling his finger, but immediately stopped when Sherlock said it
hurt. Perhaps he'd been mistaken. His hole might be squeezing to try to get him
out, not to keep him in. Carefully, he tugged it out and wiped off his finger
on his trousers.
"Are you sure? What hurt?" He wasn't sure how he could possibly take things
slower. An Omega that wasn't in heat could handle just one finger. Hell, even
an Alpha could. Either Sherlock was being too sensitive, or something was
wrong.
Mycroft didn't plan on stopping, but he would at least wait for a moment and
try to resolve whatever problem Sherlock was having. "What should I do
instead?"
His poor hole was still open and waiting for him, any normal Omega would be
asking him to return his finger. He didn't understand it. Sherlock was
stubborn, yes, but surely even he could admit when he was feeling pleasure,
especially when he was in a position like this. There was nowhere to hide.
Mycroft was going to continue sooner or later. Why would Sherlock, who had
seemed so eager to get it over with, draw things out for an even longer amount
of time?
"It's time for you to be serious, Sherlock. Did it really hurt?"
If Sherlock was going to keep doing this, Mycroft would assume he was lying
every time he complained about the pain, and then he wouldn't know when
Sherlock was or wasn't telling the truth.
He didn't mind making Sherlock feel a bit uncomfortable, but he really didn't
want to cause him any unnecessary pain. That had never been his goal. Their
mother had trusted him to take care of Sherlock and show him that this wasn't
something to be feared, he couldn't achieve that unless Sherlock felt good.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Sherlock had, quite honestly, not quite expected for Mycroft to pull out - or
to react at all, really. He had not cared at all when Sherlock had been begging
him to stop or not to start this to begin with, having quite literally locked
and strapped him into this position, and now a single word was enough to make
him stop and be all concerned?
If Sherlock had known that... Maybe he wouldn't have confirmed, his hole
fluttering unhappily, just asking to be filled again.
"Um...", Sherlock murmured, shifting a bit uncomfortably, not sure what to say.
Mycroft actually sounded... worried. And maybe that was... Well. That was
making Sherlock feel rather... guilty. Ashamed, even. To have lied. To his Al-
- to his brother. Even though he was being gentle...
No. What was he thinking there? A soft finger in his bum wasn't really enough
to make up for getting him into this position in the first place - right?
"Just - just leave me alone.", Sherlock mewled, cheeks blushing for other
reasons now, his neck and head trying to work his face under his shoulder,
hiding it, but to no avail. He wanted to hide in guilt, but his whine was there
for another reason. Not only because of the confusion, the opposites his body
and mind were playing, the trickling guilt -- but also because of how his slick
was dripping down his bum now, instead of being warmed and played with and
engulfing something.
"Leave me alone.", he repeated at the next question in the same whining,
insecure tone. He was too proud to ask for more, too ashamed to admit that he
enjoyed it, too insecure to admit that he had lied.
He... He wasn't even too sure what he wanted now. Even asking Mycroft to leave
started to feel like a lie. Maybe all of his blood was just gathering in his
head, due to his position, and therefore drove him mad. ...or, more likely, he
was wrong about the most fundamental thing he had believed to know about
himself.
That he, Sherlock Holmes, could not see or find any pleasure in anything that
was related to Alphas, their dominating demands and all engulfing scent.
Instead of receiving an appropriate answer, Mycroft was simply told to go away.
He narrowed his eyes at him, noticing how the area around his neck and upper
back was flushing red once again.
So he'd lied, then. All in an effort to get Mycroft away from him. Perhaps
Mycroft wouldn't have minded so much if Sherlock had at least admitted it, but
he didn't give him any verbal indication that he'd been lying.
"Sherlock," he scolded. He gave his soft behind a quick swat, not hard enough
to leave a mark but enough to sting.
"Don't do that again, do you understand?" It was not something he'd tolerate.
Maybe a bit of a scolding would be enough to keep him from doing it again, but
if it wasn't, he could always find a more severe form of punishment.
His hole looked like it was craving to be filled again, so Mycroft continued
where he'd left off, once again pushing in and out with his finger. By the way
it reacted, Mycroft knew that his heat was coming quickly. It may not be at the
point where he felt comfortable using anything more than one of Sherlock's
toys, but it was enough to make him allow himself to add another finger in with
the first.
It was rather tight at first, so he went slowly, all the while rubbing
Sherlock's back reassuringly to ensure that he'd remain calm. An Omega his age
was bound to be frightened their first time, especially someone like Sherlock.
No matter how much he wanted to remove the tightening trousers that he himself
had on, he held back. "You're doing well." Reassurance might not draw out a
good verbal response, but at least it would help his body to feel more
comfortable if he knew that Mycroft was content with his current progress.
"Very, very well."
"Oi!", Sherlock squeaked as he earned himself a swat to the bottom. It wasn't
that bad, certainly not the first time his brother was solving... Behavioural
problems of Sherlock like this. ...or with a belt, really.
Still, that was different. Not only because usually Sherlock was able to hold
and sooth the sore patch with his hands, but also because of...the mere
principle of things.
"D-don't hit me.", Sherlock hiccupped with a soft sniff, voice shaking just a
little bit. He'd hide his face once more, if he could. "...I’m in – I’m in
heat", he offered as a reason. And that usually wasn't only a reason not to
hurt him, but also to spoil him a little.
Lots of ice cream, new clothes and new CDs and books... Anything that could
keep his attention for just a little, was it through a clean, unused smell,
nice taste or simply being interesting...
People usually agreed that pushing an Omega too much while in heat was
unnecessary cruel. Most weird behaviour could probably be attributed to the
heat in the first place, and even if not... Their poor bodies were exhausting
themselves either way, and their over sensitive skin was making pain just a bit
worse... It shouldn't be too much to asked not to be hit, in addition to all
the worries was going through.
"My-Mycroft!", Sherlock mewled as his brother did not only re-insert his
finger, but carefully slipped a second one through the still quite tight ring
of muscles. And even if Sherlock tried to tell himself that he didn't enjoy it,
he couldn't help the relieved gasp as his pink, little hole was once more
filled, given once more something to work on, as if trying to swallow Mycroft's
digits into the deep cavern, while thick slick was forming around it.
There wasn't even much room for it to spill out of his bottom, now with two
fingers inserted and his hole squeezing tightly around Mycroft's fingers to
just keep them in. The poor Omega whimpered softly whenever the pair just
retreated a little, his body just remembering the loss too well, a bit too
greedy and impatient to risk losing its filling too quickly again.
Sherlock gasped a little as his bottom clenched together tightly, his heat
taking care of his body without most of his consent, and pressed his round rear
out just a little more. Well, as well as he could, with his hips being locked
down. It were mostly this thighs straining to lift his bottom just a bit
higher, his ankles twitching to inch just a little wider, and his tummy pulling
in a try to grind himself against something. Sherlock couldn't deny that his
cocklet was straining, probably dripping just as his bum did, while the sheet
of sweat covering his thighs and buttocks grew thicker and pearly.
While Mycroft normally wouldn't pay much attention to Sherlock's complaints
about a punishment, he supposed he could do without hitting him anymore.
Sherlock seemed to be willing to cooperate, so there was no reason to frighten
him further. "Don't lie, and I won't have to worry about it," he replied, not
mentioning it again.
Instead, he was more focused on the task in front of him. Even though Sherlock
wasn't saying anything, his body was speaking plenty loud enough. It was
obvious that he was enjoying this. This was what he needed--the satisfaction
and relief that only an Alpha could provide.
Unfortunately for Sherlock, he'd been so hesitant to stretch himself before
that Mycroft knew this was going to take longer than he'd anticipated. Instead
of rubbing his back, his free hand moved down to Sherlock's pathetic cock,
gently holding it in his hand and rubbing at it to keep his body satisfied and
his mind occupied. His other fingers began to spread and stretch him, which
would at least provide some mild discomfort to him while he adjusted.
Hopefully, the extra stimulation would make him feel more at ease.
"How is that?" He gave him a few extra tugs with one hand while the other
pushed in three fingers. It wasn't nearly as big as his length or his girth,
but it would do. If he could, he'd fit in a fourth finger, and then once he
deemed Sherlock ready he'd either find one of the bigger toys that their mother
had sent or would skip that step completely and would get straight on with
mounting him.
It all would depend on just how ready Sherlock was. If he was comfortable with
his fingers and seemed eager for more, he would have no problem with giving it
to him. However, if he seemed more hesitant, then Mycroft would put in the bit
of extra time to make sure he was properly prepared. Once again, he pumped his
fingers in and out, going at a faster pace with the three of them. He craved
hearing Sherlock's voice, his cries of pleasure and desperate gasps and sighs.
Each one sent pleasant shivers down his spine and heat to his crotch.
Maybe this was fair, Sherlock thought. Or maybe it was just the fairest thing
Mycroft was going to agree to. Or, quite possibly, it was not fair at all, but
Sherlock was frankly in no position to argue. His ability to argue seemed to
get less and less the more time passed, the more slick was produced and the
more the fingers in his rear moved.
It was - Sherlock swallowed thickly, letting out another soft whimper. It was
hard to believe how much quicker things were hitting him, just because someone
was paying attention to him. Just an hour or two ago Sherlock would have been
sure he'd still have more than enough time to pack his bags, drink a cup of tea
and drive back home. Maybe even tend an experiment or two before he'd have to
start undressing. And now? Thinking was hard. Moving impossible, but that had
quite other reasons. And more importantly, his body was flushing a deeper and
deeper pink as his heat ripped through him, as if finally celebrating the
presence of an Alpha, the presence of anything filling him after so many heats
without either of these things.
The boy just mewled in response at the question, not really wanting to give an
answer while his little prick bloomed under the softest touch. An Omega's cock
wasn't made to reproduce, wasn't made to penetrate, but it was still quite
sensitive. Sherlock remembered people claim that an Omega's orgasm worked as a
sucking mechanism, pulling the seeds of their Alpha deeper into themselves, but
Sherlock wasn't sure if he should believe that, or just think that it was a
leftover from before his puberty, his little prick not having grown ever since.
And while the fingers against it were nice, they didn't quite hide the burn
that was caused through Mycroft's preparation. Sherlock was sure it wouldn't
have been half as bad if Mycroft had waited for Sherlock's heat to come to its
peak naturally, if he would have been covered in his own wetness before he had
even approached him. ...then again, that would have probably meant that
Sherlock would have spent a few hours in that stupid stand, so maybe it wasn't
that bad that his dearest brother was a bit impatient.
Sherlock hissed a little as another finger was being added, his foot twitching
as he instinctively tried to kick Mycroft once more, the movement itself
cascading another blop of wetness out of Sherlock, dripping down to his own
cock and Mycroft's other hand.
"Ah-", Sherlock startled a little as Mycroft's fingers sped up, the additional
slickness making it... well, rather easy to move, it seemed, thoroughly
covering the additional finger the moment Mycroft pressed it through, instead
of needing to coax more slick out of Sherlock this time.
Sherlock was almost surprised not to hear a squeaking, squelching sound as
Mycroft moved his hand in and out - and Sherlock had to swallow the thought
that those few fingers were not even comparable to the length Mycroft needed to
possess. They were not even as long as Sherlock's fingers, not hitting the
boy's prostate... Sherlock wasn't quite sure if his sweet spot was being
avoided on purpose or if Mycroft couldn't reach it just yet; It usually took
Sherlock himself a few hours to find and be able to reach it himself, but
everything just worked so much quicker now...
Sherlock shuddered a little as he remembered another flicker of information,
how his prostate was not even comparable to how pleasurable the sweet spot at
his pelvic opening could be, if something was able to thrust right through the
next ring of muscles that was meant to keep the seed safe... But certainly,
that wasn't possible, right? The passage of his rear must be at least seven,
eight inches long, then another two, three to even reach the tight band of
muscle, and then still a good bit to push through... There was no way any Alpha
could be well endowed enough to nestle its way through the seal of Sherlock's
womb, now that it was slowly unsealing itself for the next couple of days...
Right?
It was interesting to see Sherlock like this. Mycroft wasn't sure if he'd ever
get over it, really. How could the stubborn, annoying boy so quickly go from
defiant and misbehaving to being here, bent over and locked in a stand with his
face bright red and Mycroft's hand inside his bottom? It was unfathomable even
a few days ago when he'd been trying to decide what to do with their mother.
Reducing Sherlock to this mess was exactly what she'd been hoping for, and
Mycroft was thoroughly enjoying it as well. He was proud that he was the one to
do this to him. Sherlock might not be completely willing, but anyone would say
that he was enjoying himself if they saw him. To be the first and only person
to finally break him like this was an accomplishment, one that he was very
proud of.
It didn't look like Sherlock was opening up quite as much as Mycroft would have
liked. Regrettably, that meant he'd have to resort to using one of his toys. It
would be less work to put in a vibrator and leave him alone for a few minutes
while he cleaned off and made sure his clothes were safely put away. Ruining
them would only make him angry, and he didn't want to yell at Sherlock for
something he had no control over.
He pushed his fingers in one final time, shoving them deeper than he had before
and leaving them there for a moment before he tugged them out. "I'll be back in
a moment," he assured him, going off to the bathroom so he could clean his
hands off. Every few seconds, he'd look over to make sure Sherlock was still
there, but he resisted the urge to go check on him. The house was secure.
Greg's scent was stale, so it wasn't enough to put him on edge. Nobody would
touch Sherlock, and it wasn't like he could go anywhere. He was perfectly safe.
Once he'd rid his hands of the slick, he went to his bedroom, retrieving the
bag of toys that his mother had left with him when she'd last visited. He dug
around before settling on one that was still in the package, rejected
completely by Sherlock. It was rather large, larger than any of the others that
had been opened, so he assumed Sherlock wasn't used to taking something of that
size. Still, it wasn't as big as Mycroft was.
He opened it and made sure everything worked before re-entering the living
room. Sure enough, Sherlock was still there. He breathed out a sigh of relief
and moved back over to him, wiping as much slick as he could onto the toy.
There had been lube in the bag, but with how wet his hole had been, he hardly
thought it had been necessary. Carefully, he pushed the toy into the opening,
letting it slide in slowly until it was comfortably resting inside of him.
"There." It would take him a moment to get used to it, no doubt. Mycroft
straightened up and lightly rubbed his back before switching it on. "Excuse me
once again. This is the last time, I promise." With that, he left, going back
to his bedroom once again so that he could begin to undress and get himself
ready.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the delay x Have a longer chapter as the finale as an
     apology x
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Wait.
"What?", Sherlock asked, not fully understanding what was going on, another
hoarse whine escaping Sherlock's lips as the fingers retreated and his
stretched hole clenched around nothing.
Usually, when Sherlock was taking care of himself, it wouldn't be gaping wide
open if he took out whatever he had worked inside, nicely closing up again,
just merely wide enough to continue pushing out slick. Now, though, Sherlock
could feel the cold air slip between his arse cheeks, his muscles still
clenching and unclenching reflexively, as if trying to pull anything back
inside.
"Where are you--- where are you going?", Sherlock asked, able to see him leave
out of his peripheral vision, but he stood sideways to the corridor, his
backside directed towards kitchen and bathroom door. In the position he was in,
he was in, he was merely facing the large telly screen Mycroft had, which was
not only rather boring, but in addition not very enlightening about what was
happening around him. Mycroft wasn't leaving, was he? Sherlock hasn't even
twitched his hands when he undid the straps, and pushing him deeper into his
heat without giving him any way to get himself off and disappearing right
after!? How - how unfair, Sherlock thought, and once more thrashed against the
restraints out of pure frustration.
"Mycroft!", he reprimanded him as he heard his brother approaching once more,
subconsciously calming down again as not only the scent of Alpha, but also the
comforting scent of his brother hit him, but his feet still tried to kick as
Mycroft approached. There was little else he could try to show his
unhappiness... Not that it really worked either.
As something new touched Sherlock's thighs, trying to catch most of Sherlock's
slick, the Omega winced and whimpered. It felt big, and for a moment Sherlock
feared that it was going to be his brother's cock, once more trying to shuffle
away, with little success but his knees squirming. It took him a moment longer
to realise that there was no was Mycroft's middle was this cold, or that
smooth, for that matter, but it wasn't quite as relieving as it could have been
either. Sherlock knew that it wasn't any of his toys, and he could tell that it
was far bigger than any of his even before it slid up his body, between his
buttocks, before carefully, but certainly being pushed inside of him.
"Ah!", Sherlock mewled, his breath stuttering as he felt his inner walls part
further to accommodate the hard, unyielding piece of plastic that Mycroft moved
inside of Sherlock with little mercy. He'd spread his legs a bit more to
accommodate it, but even that wasn't possible with the way he was held down, so
Sherlock could do little else but whimper. Was that necessary? Or just another
way to humiliate the Omega? Sherlock sniffled a bit, but couldn't quite help to
feel... to feel the slightest bit of pride as Mycroft patted his back and
praised him, the dildo set deeply inside of him, having forced its way into
depth's Mycroft's fingers weren't able to go.
Pride was quickly forgotten though as Mycroft twisted the base of the vibrator,
and Sherlock squeaked quite undignified at the sudden assault. "No!", he
gasped, trying to shake the thing out of him while paying hardly any attention
to his brother leaving, too engrossed to the way his bum vibrated than anything
else. Even his tummy was moving with it, humming against the breeding stand.
"Take it out, Myc, take it out, please.", Sherlock whimpered, still not
stopping to move his bum. He didn't like vibrators. He never used them on
himself, didn't like the history of them. How Cleopatra had placed a few bees
into a small container many centuries ago to buzz against her sex, certainly
dooming the poor animals to death... And that was just how it felt. Bees
trapped inside the shaft, trying to break out of their prison inside of
Sherlock, while his whole body was buzzing with it. At the same time though...
It was just hitting exactly what his body needed to produce more and more
slick, the almost clear substance engulfing the toy even outside of Sherlock's
body, covering it in a nice sheet of sticky fluids, while a small pool of
wetness formed between Sherlock's knees on the floor.
"Myc.", he whimpered, sounding rather pathetic. "Take it out, turn it off,
Mycroft.", he mewled.
Of course, before Mycroft could reach his room, Sherlock was complaining.
"What's wrong with it?" He'd seemed fine with it until he'd turned it on.
Perhaps he simply wasn't used to it. Yes, that had to be the case. Mycroft
would have felt bad about leaving him alone without it. He needed to be
prepared. Turning it off would get him used to the depth, but it would just sit
there without doing much else to stimulate him. That wouldn't be much of a help
at all.
"You're fine, Sherlock. It's fine." He returned to his side, bending down and
lightly tugging his head up so that he could give one of his flushed cheeks a
kiss.
"I'll be back in a moment, I promise. Then I'll take it out." He ran his hand
through his hair a final time before he left, going to get undressed.
"Take it out!", Sherlock just demanded as Mycroft asked, not going to start
talking about bees or ancient Egypt or how icky he thought vibrators were and
how little he liked them at all. Even if he would have liked to explain... Deep
arguments were difficult enough while in heat and quite impossible to form with
a vibrating shaft in his rear. There was not much else he could voice but
whimpers and the simplest demands, not quite able to come up with reasons or
even see much of the point of why he needed them.
"Nooo.", he mewled unhappily, sniffling as his brother lifted his head, cheeks
red and eyes slightly puffy, a soft smear of sweat on his forehead. The angle
wasn't hurtful, but not necessary too comfortable either if Sherlock would have
to hold his head up like that himself, but with the added support, it was fine,
he guessed, even with the leather strap above his neck. His lips parted
slightly at the kiss, even if it wasn't even directed onto his lips... It was
more for breathing in Mycroft's scent, now that he was so close to Sherlock's
face in the first place. It wasn't as if Sherlock really had the experience to
even link in his hazy brain why opening his mouth for a kiss would be a good
idea, not having had his first one yet. And certainly no mindless snogging
either.
"No, Mycroft!", he scolded in another whine as Mycroft disappeared once more.
"Now! Not --- now, Mycroft, turn it off!"
But of course, he didn't. Instead, he took his bloody time while Sherlock was
back to fighting unhappily against the breeding stand. His stomach was
twitching lightly. Wouldn't - wouldn't take long until he would actually be
bred now, would he? If Mycroft's scent was anything to go by, he certainly
wasn't unaffected...
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist Sherlock. The scent of
his heat had spread everywhere, so much so that he felt as though Sherlock was
right next to him even when he was in his bedroom. No matter. He'd handle him
soon enough. For the moment, he needed to focus on putting everything away. His
jacket was, of course, the first thing to go. He carefully hung it up in his
closet so that he could use it at a later date. After that, he shed his shirt,
deciding to neatly fold it and put it away to be washed along with his
undershirt. After that, he hung up his trousers and put them aside too, not
deciding whether or not he would either wear them once again or wash them. He'd
have to look at them later and see if they'd been dirtied. It was with
hesitation that he shed his pants as well, glancing down at his hardening
length. It was rather large. He really wasn't sure if Sherlock was ready to
take it. Oh, well. If he needed to stop... He'd do his best. He wasn't sure how
much longer he'd be able to wait, but he'd do what he could to make sure that
he was prepared.
After that, Mycroft went back out to the living room. He turned the vibrator
off, finding it more difficult than expected not to immediately tear it out and
replace it with his own aching cock. Just the sight of Sherlock sent him into a
wave of need. Unlike Sherlock, though, he had a bit more control over himself
during times like this.
"Are you alright?" He tugged the toy out and set it down, ignoring the slick
that had gotten onto his fingers. Surely, that had prepared him enough. There
wasn't much else that Mycroft could do to prepare him further, and he didn't
think that anything he could do would be a good use of their time. This was it.
His hands greedily roamed over Sherlock's lower back and hips, grabbing at the
soft skin as much as possible. At any time, he could push into Sherlock's hole.
Any time at all. There was absolutely nothing stopping him, nothing Sherlock
could do to prevent him. That only made the temptation greater.
"Sherlock..." He had to make sure first. He didn't want to stress him out and
make him have a horrible time during his first heat with an Alpha. As soon as
he got permission, then he'd have his way with him, and after that he wasn't
sure if anything Sherlock said could stop him. Before that, though, he needed
to ask.
"Are you ready? For me?"
As his brother finally returned, Sherlock could smell that he must have lost
most of his clothes, his scent radiating far denser in the air than it just did
before, and it was quite shameful that his poor hole just tried to squeeze more
wetness out of him for that, clenching against the vibrating mess inside of
him, making him try to bolt again. Stupid.
"Out, out, out, now, Mycroft.", he whimpered like a puppy begging for treats.
Now though, as the hellish item was removed, Sherlock sighed quite contently,
eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed at the lack of continued assault. He
almost purred, really, a deep hum in his throat as he hummed a dreamy Yeah.
He was quite alright now, the relief enough to overtake the need to be filled
for a moment, the Omega sagging under his own weight on the breeding stand as
his muscles now no longer had to clench, quiver or desperately try to obey
Sherlock's flight instincts. He didn't even mind the large hands on his hips
and back now, even pressing his back against them, suddenly quite contently
remembering the sensation of being pressed down hard by Alpha hands... How
weird that it had freaked him out so much before when now it was actually
quite... nice. Now that his body was freed from at least one horrible itch, the
other pushed aside for a moment.
"Huh? Yeah...", he agreed mindlessly, not quite even having listened as he
groaned lightly, once more trying to push into Mycroft's hands. Just a touch
cooler than his own heated body... Nice.
The agreement was a bit more relaxed than Mycroft had been expecting. He'd
thought he would whine or complain, or at least hesitate a bit, but instead he
agreed without a second thought. It was absolutely bizarre. Then again, with
the way he was pressing up into his touch, maybe it wasn't so strange after
all.
"Alright." He had to bend down a bit to get comfortable, realizing that next
time, it might be a better idea to make the height taller on the stand so he
could be more comfortable. Oh, well. He held onto Sherlock's hip with one hand,
the other guiding his aching cock to the waiting hole. It took a second to
collect some of the slick dripping from it and smear it onto himself, but once
he was thoroughly coated, he began pushing in. The hole was still tight,
tighter than he'd been expecting, but it didn't stop him. If anything, it only
encouraged him.
Mycroft pushed himself in most of the way, but not completely. Sherlock
probably couldn't take the entire thing, and even if he could, it was better to
let the both of them adjust with just this much. Already, the tight hole was
overwhelming. It was hard to get in or out, so he didn't move, instead
clutching onto Sherlock desperately and taking a few deep breaths. His hands
tightly gripped onto his hips as he pulled out, pushing back in once again
afterwards. After a few slow pumps, he'd opened up some more to the point where
Mycroft felt much more comfortable sliding in and out.
"Fuck, Sherlock," he grunted, picking up the pace. He didn't care whether
Sherlock was ready or not, he couldn't stop himself now. It felt too good. It
had been far too long since he'd been with an Omega like this before, one who
was so young and tight. It also was nice that Sherlock was completely still, so
Mycroft didn't have to worry about him moving around. He continued to thrust,
grunting and groaning in absolute pleasure at the amazing feeling.
From all the things Sherlock thought he had agreed to, this hasn't really been
it. Maybe, that was a bit stupid. It has certainly been Mycroft's intention
right from the moment he had gotten the breeding stand into his living room,
and still, Sherlock's heated, fogged mind hadn't made the connection as it was
just a little too blissed at the removal of the vibrating disaster people dared
to sell as toys.
"Mycroft, no, wait, Mycroh--", Sherlock started to babble and pull at his
restraints as something new started to move into the gap between his legs,
girthier than the toy, heavier in a way, and far, far warmer than plastic
usually was. But his pleading was quickly cut off into a cried out moan as
Mycroft's cock pushed inside of him, his elbows and thighs shaking at the
sensation. Sherlock wasn't so sure if he'd be able to hold himself up if it
wasn't for the metal supporting his lithe frame.
It hurt. It pulled at his muscles. It parted his inner channel wider than
anything before, sliding in deeper and deeper - until it finally settled at
what Sherlock assumed had to be full length. It was giant as it was, and maybe
Sherlock was glad now that he hasn't seen his brother's erection before, hardly
able to gauge how far into himself it was splitting him. And even though it
pained him... It also made the deep pit of arousal in his lower belly tickle a
little bit more, choked off little grunts escaping his lips as he tried to
relax, tried to adjust to the Alpha's length. He panted, heavily, his whole
body swinging with each breath he took, shuddering through him.
But of course, Mycroft wouldn't stay still forever, Sherlock's hole clenching
together as he moved back, once more trying to keep him in, and Sherlock
mewling as he slid back in.
"Nngh." He has never been too vocal with his toys. But... this was different.
Different enough for Sherlock to squeak and to grunt and to mewl, while he
panted in between every little sound his brother was pushing out of him. Saliva
was dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as Mycroft picked up the pace,
Sherlock not quite able to keep up as air was pushed out of his lungs whenever
Mycroft pushed back in, making the Omega gasp for air audibly. If it wasn't for
the completely new sensation, Sherlock might have noticed that his brother's
hips weren't thrusting against his own rear, that every sliding motion or two
were pushing his dick just a slightly bit deeper inside...
Even if his hole was loosening up, it was still uncomfortable enough for
Sherlock not to quite notice a tiny bit of pain further and further inside of
himself. He was only noticing how his own little cock was stiffened and his
belly tightened, an inexperienced Omega like him not quite needing much to be
brought close to orgasm. Especially not with the Alpha's pheromones being
released into the air.
"Myc-ah-Mycrohft.", he mewled pleadingly, not sure himself what he was asking
for. To slow down? To speed up? To pay a bit attention to his dripping cock for
some much needed release? Sherlock didn't think he was going to make it for
long now anyway, trying to angle his hips just right for each of Mycroft's
thrust to slither against his prostate.
Sherlock's cries of his name made him speed up the pace, pushing in deeper and
deeper. It took him a moment to remember Sherlock's own cock, so he kept one
hand on his hips while the other wrapped around it since Sherlock couldn't
touch it himself. He pumped it as he moved in and out, fighting the urge to
lean up and latch onto Sherlock's soft, exposed neck. It looked so tempting,
and it took all of the self-control he had left to keep away from it.
Sherlock had made it very clear he didn't want to be bonded, and Mycroft could
understand that choice. At least, for the time being. Maybe later, Sherlock
could change his mind, but until then he wasn't going to try anything with him.
It didn't take very long at all to find his prostate, judging by the louder and
more intense noises Sherlock was making every time he hit that spot, so he
continued to thrust there since Sherlock could hardly wiggle around to help
him. With his full length finally in, he was speeding up, trying to get in as
far as he could while he went as fast as he could. That way, he was able to
maximize his own pleasure, while also ensuring Sherlock got plenty of
stimulation as well.
Talking to him wasn't possible. His mind was too occupied by the simple
movements, and his lungs were too busy breathing in and out from the effort. He
was sure that Sherlock's heat would work better to help him lose weight than
any diet he'd tried, but he also knew that it was bound to get tiring. Maybe
letting Greg come over some time in the future wouldn't be such a bad idea
after all.
In record time, Mycroft managed to finish, letting some of his weight rest on
Sherlock so he could relax while his knot swelled. He was exhausted, and after
so long without being near an Omega in heat, his body had been overloaded. It
had only taken several minutes of being inside him to finish, but he wasn't at
all embarrassed. He was sure Sherlock wouldn't mind that he hadn't drawn it out
for very long. It was his first time, after all. Mycroft wasn't sure how much
longer his small, inexperienced body would have been able to handle. Once he
finally caught his breath, he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's middle,
pulling his back up to press against Mycroft's chest.
"You did well," he murmured softly to him, gently kissing his neck but not
letting his teeth touch it. Since neither of them would be going anywhere for a
while, he undid the leather straps that were holding him in place, finding it a
bit hard to reach some but managing nonetheless. He carefully pulled Sherlock
off and simply sat on the floor, holding him close once again. Now that they
were finished, he finally could learn what his brother's reaction had been
like. "How do you feel?"
It didn't take much for Sherlock to come. Mycroft's large hand was more than
enough to let his belly cramp together and loosen up again, his erection
withering with a loud cry. Of course, there wasn't any actual come. Just a few
drops of fluid. In the best case, it would be an evolutionary remain of sperm,
in the worst case a few drops of urine. Territorial marking might be
animalistic, but... Not completely out of question during a heat as intense as
an Omega's first was.
Sherlock was still whimpering, but Mycroft didn't take his time to come either.
Sherlock could feel his knot swelling, catching the rim of his hole over and
over as almost brutal movements drove his brother's large member inside of him
repeatedly. Sherlock couldn't quite help but squirm and whimper, mewling
unhappily, his own orgasm having taken most of the need - and most of the
pleasure - of him being filled bursting full.
Just as Sherlock saw no way that his brother's knot was going to pass out and
in again, Mycroft came, his base inflating momentarily as load over load of hot
semen was released into him. Once more Sherlock wondered how deep he was
actually inside of him, if the walls he felt Mycroft's cock were hitting were
still his inner channel or actually his womb.
For a while, Sherlock simply enjoyed being held, being pressed down by his
brother's chest, still panting and breathing hard, but relaxing visibly, small
gasps of relief escaping his lips as the straps were undone. He even forgot his
worries about his brother's lips at his neck for now, just liking the way he
tickled his glands. With his hands free again, he rubbed over his face, unhappy
about the saliva that dribbled down his chin, and the tears that were forming
in his eyes. This has been... quite overwhelming.
He squeaked a little as he was lifted and pulled back, his body adjusting to
the new position he took in. His breathing was still hard, and he leaned back
without thought against his brother's broad chest. Just as his brother asked
him how he did, Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed. He huffed a little, forming his
hand into a fist and boxing his brother's thigh. Not hard at all, his exhausted
body even had trouble keeping his fingers in a fist altogether, preferring to
just stay loose, but my, it certainly wasn't meant to be playful. He was still
unhappy about this. ...mostly about the vibrator, the shame, and how much he
had actually enjoyed it, but unhappy nonetheless.
"You owe me.", he announced with a bit of a tilting his head back in a try to
glance up at his brother - and let him see the large pout of his lips, but his
eyes were calm and his body relaxed and his scent spoke a completely different
story.
And then he did, what has been the reason why Alpha's needed their knot in the
first place. Evolutionary that was. What was the point of having a perfect lock
down mechanism if their prey wasn't even trying to get away? And Sherlock
himself had quite enough. He wanted to shower off all the sweat, and get a bowl
of ice cream, and put on his favourite classical music, and all the other
little comfort things he did in the thirty, forty-five minutes he had where his
mind was completely clear in post-coital bliss. Standing up though with
something inside of him with the size of two, maybe three large fists though
was rather complicated - or rather said, impossible without seriously hurting
himself. Didn't mean Sherlock didn't try, tugging and pushing as he tried to
stand.
"Lemme -- lemme go, okay?", he huffed, sniffling again, rubbing a wrist against
his eyes once more, tears starting to dwell in the corners of his eyes for
another time. He was - emotional, he noticed, and failed to be upset with that.
"Sherlock-" Mycroft sighed in a bit of frustration when he tried to pull away,
not listening to his warnings. Obviously, Sherlock hadn't realized the purpose
of the knot in the first place. He wrapped his arms around the other's waist to
keep him from continuing to struggle. If he pulled hard enough, he probably
could get away, but it wouldn't be very fun for either of them.
"I can't let you go. I'm sorry." There was nothing he could to let go of him
besides wait. Until then, they were stuck together, which gave Mycroft some
time to comfort Sherlock. He had been overwhelmed, as most Omegas were, but for
Sherlock it must have been even more intense because of his complex mind. It
was understandable that he wanted to be alone to sort through his thoughts, but
that was going to have to wait for a while. The tears that were brimming in his
eyes made Mycroft's heart sink, and he gently wiped them off before lightly
kissing his neck once again.
"It's alright. You were perfect," he soothed, wanting him to relax.
"Mummy will be proud," he said after a moment with a faint chuckle. He was
tempted to call here right then with Sherlock still stuck to him just as proof
that he'd done the impossible.
However, that would only upset Sherlock even more, and he didn't want that to
happen. Not when he was in heat, and certainly not when he was stuck to him.
He'd have to talk to her later during the night, before Sherlock got the urge
to come back and ask for more. With his stubbornness, that may not happen very
soon, but he wasn't going to do anything further until Sherlock asked him. He
wouldn't be able to resist the urge for long, especially now that he'd already
had Mycroft inside of him. His toys would be small and unsatisfying now,
compared to the length of an Alpha.
With a soft sigh, Mycroft leaned back against the couch behind him, lightly
rubbing his hand over Sherlock's stomach. He knew he shouldn't, but he felt
proud knowing his seed was in there. Sherlock was his now. He was the first one
to claim him, and that was an accomplishment that he hadn't thought possible
two months ago.
Sherlock wasn't fully broken in yet, and would likely continue to be defiant
for a while, but he'd broken the last major block in the way. Soon, Sherlock
would be the perfect Omega, even if he'd still be likely to be more antisocial
and quiet than most Alphas were willing to accept. The urge to mark Sherlock
washed over him once again, but he settled with burying his nose in his neck
and breathing in the comforting scent. He was willing to take on the
responsibility that came with claiming him, and yet Sherlock still didn't want
to accept it. Surely, he knew he'd have to settle down with an Alpha at some
point. Why wouldn't he give in now to Mycroft, when he knew he'd be treated
well and given anything he wanted? To him, it didn't make sense. He lightly
ghosted his lips over one of the strong scent glands, once more considering to
bond his baby brother.
Sherlock huffed and yipped a little bit more before strong arms wrapped around
him and quite literally held them together. With a huff and a sigh, Sherlock
stopped his struggling for now. He shifted a little, finally feeling his body
stopping to produce slick. Just so it wouldn't flush the Alpha's seeds off,
Sherlock would know if he had bothered to listen in class, but like this, he
was merely grateful for the stop of minor clenchings and wrappings his lower
body produced. Sherlock just bit his tongue not to ask why, but even he knew
that they were going to stay together for twenty, thirty minutes, Mycroft’s
body lazily pumping more and more seed into him while Sherlock’s own body would
be busy absorbing what it could, so he'd rather not make fun of himself by
asking.
The blush wasn't going to get away for a while, and Sherlock already felt a bit
tingly around his nose. "I wasn't even trying...", he mumbled defensively, but
somehow, Mycroft's words still made him relax a little, lolling his head back
against his brother's shoulder, rubbing lightly against him, taking in his
scent. Maybe this wasn’t half as bad. Maybe this was even… better than spending
his heat alone. And maybe, the next couple of days of his heat would be quite
alright as well…
Chapter End Notes
     Nuff fucking for now. Thank you very much for reading, and thanks
     even more for all the lovely comments, we are really glad people
     liked it as much as we did x
     I'll be busy updating some less smutty, but sooo much darker rp-fics
     for now... (Yes, I guess this is self-promotion, ha.)
     Thank you a lot once more for reading! (This blew up so much more
     than I expected, ha.)
End Notes
     If you guys enjoyed this you might want to check out https://
     www.corbincini.tumblr.com/ --- this guy is writing a 3 part series
     inspired by this RP/based on this premise, and while it isn't
     *strictly* Sherlock, I think you guys will see that it is *almost*
     Sherlock ;) I enjoyed it lots (and it's so cool to have someone make
     some proper stories out of your stuff!!) so you all should send him
     lots of love :)
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