SUMMERY:
I believe that Mycroft isn't as lazy and bone idle as his brother thinks. I also believe to have made into the "British government" or to at least gotten into M.I.6. you'll have had to have some Military training. SOOOO I think. (and you may disagree, you are entitled to. But don't think I wont disagree with you disagreeing with me.) the following (and its pretty much the summary of things too:
Mycroft possibly went to Military School or Private School but the man's self-discipline is almost alarming…especially for a Holmes (points at Sherlock who's practically the opposite of his brother when it comes to impulses and such)…SO I'll stick with Military School. I think that he was probably in the British Military at a young age. Probably the Marines or something. Then drafted to M.I.6 at a young age…19-21ish. And since he loved his country he'd do anything for it. Being brilliant and smart and able to access things, I think he'd be an awesome spy/assassin. And some days keeping world peace might mean lying on your back for it…I through in Lestrad being his superior and such cause I like the pairing…its hot?
Anyway…
REAL SUMMERY: Mycroft's first 'solo' mission involves a honey-trap scam to catch a badguy and kill him before he can nuke the entire western world in which M-I-6 is listening in, Especially his boss, superior and lover .
Warnings: Sexual Content ,Spanking. Rough sex and mild bondage…and assassination.
For King and Country.
"Are you sure you want to do this Mycroft?"
"Who else will do it if I don't, ?"
"We can always use brute force you know. This is just the least obtrusive unfortunately but we can make it work without you."
Mycroft frowned at the man standing behind him through the mirror he'd been dressing in front of, on an ordinary day they'd probably have been in bed right now but they both knew that this was a possibility. Dressed to the nines, in a tuxedo that had been made for him, looking over his shoulder at his boss, who looked more worried than he was. Dressed up in a Tuxedo as well, his black hair slicked back but unable to hide his prematurely greying sides making him look in Mycroft's opinion…distinguished.
"If I were one of M.I.6's other agents would you think that ?" he asked checking his cuff links again, his hair neatly brushed and gelled to be as appealing as possible. Though in all honesty he was actually watching Greg through the mirror, the stiff shoulders and frown aside he couldn't blame himself for allowing himself to fall for a superior agent…his superior.
"If you had more experience I wouldn't think twice…this is your first solo mission and you're already going in over your head."
"Oh please! You'll be holding my hand until you have no choice but to let go. Besides you'll have tabs on me. A tracker? I'll be perfectly safe."
Lestrad frowned wrapping his arms around Mycroft's waist letting his smooth cheek brush against Mycroft's own smooth face working on his tie even though Mycroft knew how to do it, the little noise in the back of his throat belied Mycroft's straight staunch face, he knew he was just as nervous as he was.
"If you feel like ANYTHING is wrong I want you to safe word. I will get you out within seconds." Mycroft smirked at him turning to stare up at him before grabbing a fist full of jacket pushing him back into the mirror giving him a hard look.
"I will, just don't blow our cover Gregory. Or I swear to all that is secret in the world I will kick your ass" he stepped back before heading to the door grabbing his jacket, his gun strapped to a secret pocket in his jacket, a tracker in more than one button and the earing that Greg has insisted on him getting in case he lost his clothing which in this case was an actual possibility had a tiny built in microphone.
xxx
He sincerely hoped that his partner had his back. It had been a trying day already and now leaning against the bar looking through the crowd of important people he wondered how much longer it would be, he tugged gently at his sleeve, making certain that the tracker was still attached to his coat, trying not to look as though he'd been up for the last 18 hours, sipping at his tonic water while scanning the room, waiting for a signal from his partner.
He absolutely hated bating games, but whatever the government needed of him he'd do if only to satisfy his need to protect. He watched as Lestrad walked over to stand next to him ordering a drink for himself before turning to look back at the crowd talking in a low voice. "I don't see our client Richy. Its getting rather late too."
Mycroft fought back a groan at the name Richy. But keeping to quick fake names seemed to be the simplest solution. Calling one another agent 1 and 24 would only call attention to one another. "Of course its rather Late George. We spent the last 2 days trying to catch out client, he may actually not show at all." He sincerely hoped for his own sake that the man wouldn't.
"True. But you were resolute in your evaluation that he might. You are always right Richard better than most of my top men. I know we're all hoping that its different this time but we all have our missions. If you don't trust this situation we should back out now while we have a chance."
Sniffing into his drink as if the very idea of doing something like 'backing out' were an affront to his nature he turned to the bar his suit moving with him easily watching the barman across the other side of the bar , his face impassive though his eyes give Lestrad the message 'The mans a arm's seller with a link to nuclear weapons. I'm not about to give it up just because he's a sociopath with a love of red-haired young men.'
Lestrad gave him a look that said 'be careful' before walking off to talk to someone who didn't recognise him no matter how many times he insisted he knew them even knew their names.
Mycroft watched another agent take Lestrad's place ordering himself a drink and began small talk with him looking for all the world like 2 young gentleman friends having a drink together. If anyone were listening to their carefully rehearsed conversation however they'd be surprised to hear how their boss used both of them and they were comparing notes.
It was soon after Lestrad had stopped talking to the very confused couple that the man they'd been looking for showed up backed by several body guards placed strategically at the entrances.
Both he and Tom (not the agents real name) didn't bother to stop their conversation deliberately taking no note of the tall man as he walked passed until he had his back to them, Mycroft leaving all his normal personality behind him replacing it with a pissed off boytoy with a grudge cause daddy didn't let him play official date and now was standing around with a friend boytoy of opposite personality trying to consol him. Deliberately taking a look at the mans arse before turning back to his 'friend' to rant some more.
The man had been walking back passed him, much slower than he had before obviously having caught snippets of information from the boys.
"That fucking bastard…takes more than he should…I could have his balls in court if I wanted to" he growled at his friend as his friend ordered himself another soda Mycroft frowning at the thought of a soda nose crinkling.
"You know what…fuck'im! I'll have a whisky sour . I'm not on duty he can get fucked if he doesn't want me to drink, he can go stick his cock somewhere else for all I care. I could have anyone I wanted for a rough fuck. Who needs the bastard!" He growled ordering his drink looking right passed their target at Greg who seemed to have heard the entire thing and was glaring at him from the other side of the bar as a boss might an unruly subordinate. Thankfully the target was eating this all up stopping and leaving his body guard behind .
A long firm body leaned over him and dropped 100 Quid note on the table as the drink was delivered. The body in question separated him and his friend who'd turned away to flirt with someone else…presumably another agent, as if he were a friend trying to give his friend some privacy.
Mycroft's gaze languidly started at the man's expensive shoes to his belt hovering there before following upto his face his whole body trying to convey that he's trying to be a big boy when truly he's a small fish. His inside monolog being 'got him lets get this going'
"Thanks Mr…?" Mycroft asked pulling the drink over his body reading 'shag me now' as he pointedly looked over at Lestrad shifting to spread his legs ever so slightly.
" Smith…and you are?" Mycroft smiled pushing his hair back staying seated looking up at the man with big eyes licking his lips.
"Richard Dawkings. But everyone calls me Richy." He added batting his eyes at the man trying not to look too eager.
"Richard should do. I hear you are looking for a fuck Richard." Mycroft could have scoffed carefully schooling himself into a look of awe his cheeks furiously blushing looking somewhat scandalised.
"You heard that…I…"he had the decency to look a tad chagrined before sitting up and smiling looking at his Greg who had decided to turn away as if saying. This doesn't matter.
"Yes I am John. You man enough to give me what I need?" he asked trying to look more grown up than he was.
"That's sir to you Richard. This way." The man's face was face showed lust and hunger and something that made Mycroft Nervous in an unpleasant way. Like a predator sizing up his pray. His breath hitched forcing himself to present his crotch to the man as if the idea were exciting.
"yes…sir" Mycroft answered before he stood up ignoring his drink and practically had to run beside the man to keep up with him looking over his shoulder to see Greg watching him walk away before turning back to run off after ''.
XXX
Mycroft wasn't sure what had really happened. They'd entered the room with all the bodyguards in tow. Which put a cramp in his style immediately. He had hoped to shoot the man and slip away without notice. But it was clear the man wasn't about to let his control slip for a moment. He was about to make a comment about this maybe not being such a good idea knowing that Greg would get the message but the man gripped him around his waist pulled him close and sealed his lips over his groaning loudly allowing his body to relax against the man as he tried to work out what he was going to do.
He felt his jacket being removed with force trying to look brave while trying not to look too brave. The man ripping his shirt open leaving it in tatters on the floor wasn't bothering to preserve anything. Mycroft took a step back staring at the man with dear in a head light eyes.
"J…Smith I…that shirt was expensive. "he looked at the Guards around the door face deliberately flushing.
"Can't we get rid of the audience?" he nodded at the men at the door trying once again to sound braver but not that brave.
"Perhaps I want them to watch. What will you do for me if I tell them to go." He asked tearing open Mycroft's trousers and pushing them down his hips taking in the smooth skin and the faint bruising on his hips where his 'boss' had obviously had him last.
"Anything you want sir?" he asked trying to sound sultry adding in a pout his cock half hard as the man bent down undid his laces and pushed him out of his shoes leaving him with nothing on, (he'd neglected to wear underwear. The thought that Greg would be listening on the other end of the hidden microphone suddenly occurred to him. His cock twitching in front of all the men in the room his face now really lighting up like a Christmas light but not because of the man beside him..
"You'll do what ever I want anyway Richard. Now…go to the bed and bend over it I think that we should start with some preparation don't you." The voice that came from the man was commanding and he doubted that anyone had turned the man down since puberty.
"I give great head and I'll blow your mind if you take the guards away sir? I am not really into exhibitionism and I find it detracts from my concentration." He stated heading toward the bed bending over it wiggling his backside invitingly.
The man watching him walked over yanking him off the bed and brought him nose to nose frowning stiffly. "You give head as well as you say I'll send the men home gladly. But you better be as good as you say."
Mycroft grinned a self assured grin slipping off the bed onto his knees looking up at the man with a cheeky glint in his eye before shifting forward putting his hands behind his back leaning forward to find the mans zipper undoing it with practiced ease, glad to find him wearing braces, as he slipped forward tugging the mans underwear and trousers down as far as possible pulling out his enormous cock and instantly going to work on it. Wishing that he could somehow turn the microphone off wondering what it must sound like.
After a length stay on his knees, slurping and grunting before finally managing to deep throat the man he managed to swallow everything the man gave him, hoping that this gave them some time before the man could gain an erection, staring over at the guards once he'd finished staying on his knees as if that were where he belonged his cock pocking against his stomach as he thought of Greg on the other side of the line listening in.
The man stared down at him a smirk playing over his lips as he dismissed his men, amused as Mycroft/Richard seemed to relax looking up at him with a BIG smug face before looking down at his cock pointedly.
smirked at him slipping into a chair summoning Mycroft to follow him on knees before pulling him into his lap. Mycroft went willingly before he felt something snap around his wrists holding them together in front of him pulled roughly over the man's lap facing downward where he struggled.
"Now, Now Richard behave yourself. A man in my position needs some protection you realize. My god you have a magnificent backside. I feel like finger fucking you until you cum all over me."
Mycroft whimpered pretending to be a little bit scared wiggling against the man's lap. "Tell me Richard does your boss fuck you often? He must have done in the last week…all these lovely bruises. I think I'll send you back to him with a memo that you have a fine backside shall I?"
Mycroft whimpered loudly spreading his legs against his better judgement. The first slap making him jump. It wasn't unexpected he'd seen the man for all his sides. Good and bad, Kink and Perversion. As far as he could tell the man was holding back. It made him nervous. The snap cuffs around his wrists had been unexpected but he could work around it.
The man rained smack after smack after smack on his backside until he was squirming and yelping loudly. It stung worse than expected but not enough to make him bat an eye normally. He admitted that perhaps not all of this was acting by the time he felt slick fingers slide into him roughly fucking him like a cock would the pace making him buck against the mans lap until he couldn't help himself anymore he sprayed all over his lap with a groan.
He felt hazy for a few moments fighting it off but not visibly as the man shoved him back onto the bed pushing him onto his back and lifting his ankles up out of the way before entering him with such a brutal thrust that his next scream was real. The next thrusts just as rough seemed to be aimed at his prostate not giving him a choice but to enjoy . He surprised himself by coming a second time as the man orgasmic inside of him surprised to feel the man was actually wearing a condom before passing out from sheer exhaustion not what he had been trained to do at all. He could already imagine Greg berating him for it.
XXX
He awoke in the early hours of the morning after hearing a bang from downstairs. Obviously the party was still going. He immediately identified where he was trying to relax as he realised his wrists were still tied. The target laying beside him half draped over his body. Two Guards standing at the entrance to the suite looking forward not acknowledging him.
He groaned wriggling against the man pushing him off with his bound hands. "Oi…ger-oofff you are heavy Smith!"
Smith groaned in answer rolling over but not after smacking him in the face for waking him. He sat up with a groan wincing as his arse twanged wondering how he was supposed to get to his gun. "Oi undo the cuffs. I'm dying for a fag."
Smirking Smith rolled onto his back staring at him expectantly. "you get them off. I don't have cigarettes in my rooms but you are welcome to smoke."
Mycroft pouted at him slipping out of bed heading to his coat heart pounding picking up his coat draping it over a chair and pulling out a pack fishing out a cigarette with bound hands pushing it into his lips with a sneer in Smiths direction. "Ah fek lighter" he grunted searching his hidden pocket in search of his 'lighter' pulling it out by the handle grateful for the dim light of the room.
The first two shots from his silencer muffled gun hit the two guards square between the eyes the first dropping almost as soon as the second one did. Turning to smith who sat in the bed baffled.
"Richard wait! If it's a matter of money…" Mycroft shot him once between the eyes, walking over and shot him twice more once in the throat severing it and his spine, and once in the chest where his heart should be, walking over to his clothes, pulling his trousers on, wrapping his jacket over his shoulder hoping someone would be able get the cuffs off as soon as he landed.
Heading out the door was impossible sure that more Guards would be outside. He walked to the flower pot in the corner of the room as discussed, dumping the gun under the flowers and walking over to the window opening it looking down to find an open window 3 floors down.
Sighing he looked back into the room deciding to leave his shoes trying to get them on before being discovered didn't work, he slipped out into the cool night air. Before somehow managing to hang himself off the ledge. Falling a story before grabbing the next ledge, doing the same until he came to the open window, somehow swinging his legs up with a huff thinking that neither mummy or Sherlock would imagine him capable of such athletic feat's before slipping in through the window letting out a small sigh of relief as he hit the soft carpet beneath his feet, turning to face the window to retrieve his jacket.
XXX
Only to find a warm body pressed against his pressing him into the corner of the window as chaos already started the sound of the discovery already reaching the bottom hall.
"You fell asleep …" He heard Greg growl in his ear, before feeling hands on his trousers then the feeling of them being pulled down to the floor, hoping Greg's body was covering his nakedness but at that point he couldn't care his cock was taking an interest of note.
Greg growled at the sight of Mycroft's backside still red from the spanking. "I don't like the memo Mycroft I'll need to erase that later but first…"
Mycroft knew what was happening before he felt slick fingers enter him causing him to hiss, but that didn't stop him from melting against the wall wanting this. No one would bother them right now. He couldn't even bring himself to care he bent forward allowing himself to be lubed up before sighing as Greg eased his cock into him.
The pace starting slow before speeding up, Mycroft's still bound hands dropping down to wank himself off against the carpet as Greg claimed his arse back the slapping and noises of their union hidden by the music and yelling and shouting. Greg shot himself into Mycroft's arse pulling out a knife and releasing the snap ties around his wrists bending down to pull up his trousers as Mycroft whimpered smearing cum against the curtain backing away from it to tug his jacket on turning to Greg as he buttoned up his trousers before making for the exit.
The chaos was so extreme that no one noticed the fact that Mycroft was without shirt of shoes slipping into the black car, they both knew that agent relationships were forbidden but with things as good as they get they weren't about to let that silly rule get in the way of their partnership. Hell Greg already knew that he'd have Mycroft orgasm-ing at least 3 or 4 times in one night in the next few days to beat that Smith bastard. Mycroft already deduced this and was looking forward to it.