Honestly, never before have I thought them as an item. but I run into a prompt that got me thinking. and it makes sense, at least just as much as any other Sherlock pairing. I mean, mycroft even tried to bribe John off so that there wouldn't be a happy announcement By the end of the week.
but seriously, if you are not into manxman action nor incest, it is not too late to not read this fic.
you have been warned :D


Jumping off the deep end.

"Are you.. hurt?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock frowned at him.
"Of course not"

Mycroft was staring at his umbrella, swirling it in his hands.
"That's good" Mycroft muttered and Sherlock snorted, glaring at his brother.
"The plan was made so I would not get hurt. I am surprised that you don't have more faith than that in your own plan."

Mycroft cleared his throat and stepped closer to Sherlock

"I was still worried. It was about you, no matter how well we planned it, there is always the margin of error, that Moriarty would have done something we didn't count for."

From the corner of his eye Mycroft noticed that Sherlock bit his lip before faking unaffected again

"I certainly didn't think the would shoot his brains out like that" Sherlock said, shoving his hands into his pants pocket, having left his coat at the decoy body.

Mycroft finally looked straight at his brother. To him it was clear that Sherlock was not okay. Bodily he may be intact but seeing his life fall apart, someone die right in front of you and jumping down from a building, it had shaken Sherlock up. His brother looked so exposed without the bulky coat, his slim body fully visible with the high end suit hugging his figures.
Mycroft swallowed and looked at his umbrella again.

"But we had prepared for it"
"I know that" Sherlock snapped and he could feel the eyes fixing in him "But that was not part of the game. It was not logical. He could not see my fall, so what was the point of making me do it? Why go so far and not see the results?"
Mycroft shook his head.
"People aren't logical. Not even the smartest of us. There is always something making us steer away from logic" he said, partly to himself whilst again looking Sherlock from head to toes. When he noticed that Sherlock was now staring at a wall, face turned away from him he allowed himself to look more. Those pale collarbones were peeking from under the collar. Damn Sherlock for not wearing a tie. Damn him also for wearing that damn purple shirt of all the shirts he could have been wearing. It was so fitting is was bordering on too tight. He gripped his umbrella hard and forced his eyes away from Sherlock's chest, only to notice that his brother was now looking straight at him
"Mycroft, what is wrong with you? If I didn't know better, it would seem like you were the one who nearly committed a suicide"
Mycroft flinched
"Brother dear, please don't" he said. Sherlock turned his head to the side, but kept the eye contact, eyes narrowing. He knew Sherlock was trying to read him and he pulled his back straight, meeting him straight on, trying to hide what he had kept hidden all these years. Sherlock stepped half step closer, leaning closer. He didn't quite manage to stop himself from swallowing and his eyes from momentarily glancing at Sherlock's pink lips. He heard Sherlock's sharp intake of breath and meeting his eyes again he noticed they were wide and blinking rapidly.

He knew he had been caught. He mentally cursed Moriarty before raising one hand in calming gesture

"Sherlock, please don't jump into any conclusions" he tried but Sherlock shook his head

"You, who have always claimed that caring is not an advantage"
He let go of his umbrella. He distantly heard the thump when it hit the floor. But then he shifted all his focus to Sherlock, whom he had pushed against the wall, pinning him there.
"Sherlock, it is not an advantage. Believe me, things would be so much easier, things would run much smoother if I could just forget about you and not give a damn about what happens to you" he told Sherlock vehemently, faces merely two inches apart. "If I could stop looking after you, worry that someone will hurt you or take you away" he gave a joyless chuckle "though I guess that happened anyway, despite my best efforts" he muttered, finally allowing himself the luxury of touching Sherlock, running a finger from the tip of his collarbone up to his neck and halting at the cheekbone. He was surprised by how warm the skin was despite the paleness of it.
"Moriarty didn't hurt me." Sherlock said quietly. He felt Sherlock's breath against his face and closed his eyes momentarily.
"There is many ways to hurt someone, other than physically. You know that" he reprimanded Sherlock who just snorted.
"In the end, I won. My reputation can be restored and once I take down his organization I can easily just come back."
"But you will have to leave everyone behind. Doesn't that bother you?" he asked. Sherlock frowned in confusion then he gasped
"Oh! So that was why you tried to send John away right after we moved together. You were jealous!"
he dropped his hand from Sherlock's cheek and leaned back, heart beating wildly

"You must have bumped your head, that makes no.."
But Sherlock interrupted him with a shake of his head and voice filled with the excitement of realizing something

"You have always tried to keep tags on who I spend time with. And with John, the first person who I actually was civil with, who I wanted to be friends with, you were jealous, you tried to get him to leave. So that you wouldn't loose me" Sherlock's eyes were sparkling with the thrill of deductions "All my life, you have done things to keep me close to you, but at the same time you have kept yourself away. Is this why you so rarely came home from school? Is this why you became the "Iceman", because you were trying to restrain yourself from doing something ungodly?"
He had no idea what else Sherlock would have sprouted out, all he could think of was that Sherlock knew now and yet he had not run away in disgust, or strike him down. And he was mesmerized by the pink lips moving so close to him, hearing the voice he loved the most not being full of sarcasm and rebuke but vivid and wondrous. He couldn't help himself, the control he had honed for years broke and he surged forward, capturing the lips with his own, moving his hand back to Sherlock's cheek, holding his head still whilst he muffled the surprised grunt that Sherlock let out, drank it in along with the taste of Sherlock, the soft touch of the warm lips. He was certain this would be the only time he could do this, so he decided to be damned for all it was worth and he plunged his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, feeling him jolt back a bit in surprise when their tongues touched. To his amazement Sherlock's tongue moved against his, not pushing him away but hesitantly meeting his.
He tilted his head to get in deeper, his nose was nuzzling against Sherlock's cheek, he could breath in and smell nothing but Sherlock's scent. A light hand was placed on his shoulder and he leaned in closer, pressing fully against Sherlock whilst still letting his tongue explore the mouth of his little brother.
That was when the world returned to him and he abruptly pulled away. He watched how Sherlock lazily opened his eyes, head still resting against the wall. He tried to step back but the hand on his shoulder kept him there.
"Sherlock, let go of me" he ordered but Sherlock just lifted his eyebrow at him

"I am pretty sure it should be me saying that. Given the circumstances."

He looked to the side and cleared his throat

"Brother dearest, I am sorry. I should have never let myself get out of control like that"
Sherlock gave a long-suffering sigh

"Do you have something against gays?" Sherlock bluntly asked. He frowned a little and looked at his brother again

"No, of course not, that has nothing.." but Sherlock cut him off again

"So it is about the fact that we are siblings"

He didn't have to answer that and Sherlock nodded to himself. "You do know the reason why sibling intercourse was made illegal?"
"Obviously."
"But we have no risk of making children. So that makes the law pretty much pointless to us"

He stared at Sherlock for a long time, Sherlock barely hiding a smirk

"But you... John?" he tried forming a question but the fact that Sherlock was suggesting something he had not even allowed himself to imagine was intoxicating.
Sherlock snorted at his question

"Please. John is as straight as they come. You know that too. He didn't even experiment during his army time. I am positive that while I am away he will find himself a girlfriend that he even manages to keep, now that I am not taking up most of his time. That is, once he has dealt with the grief of my death. But he is a dear friend of mine, and I need you to look after him, keep him safe"

He nodded

"Of course. I'll keep an eye on him"

Sherlock nodded his approval and run a hand through his locks, ruffling them and messing them up a bit before smirking widely at him.

"So now. Since I am in no rush of getting anywhere, needing to lay low for a while so that Moriarty's men will stop watching everyone. I am getting bored." Sherlock stated, that smile playing on his lips.

He drew in a deep breath before lifting his hand up, allowing it to tangle into the dark locks. They weren't as soft as they looked but that was Sherlock through and through. Always more than meets the eye. Getting a good grip on his hair, he used it to tilt Sherlock head to the side, revealing the swan neck and planted his lips to the long pale throat. Sherlock gasped at the contact, the hand on his shoulder gripping harder, fingers pressing into his skin through the clothes. He carefully bit the neck, enjoying the grunt it released. He started sucking the spot and Sherlock pulled him closer, the hand moving from his shoulder up his neck, pressing him closer. He obliged and heard Sherlock pant

"It was never me who was alarmed with sex."
Sherlock' other hand glided down his back and stopped at his butt, squeezing it. He ground his hips against Sherlock and was pleased to notice that he clearly was not the only one enjoying it, when he felt Sherlock's arousal press against him.
"So you have done this before?" he asked lips brushing against the skin he had assaulted, partly sorry. Sherlock chuckled , he felt the vibrations from his chest.

"No. Never felt inclined to try it with someone. But I have researched it"

And with that, Sherlock pulled his head away from his neck and kissed him hard and fierce. Pushing him backwards. He answered the kiss, fighting for dominance and one hand still in Sherlock's hair he let the other one dive under his jacket, run over the hot skin that shivered at his touch.
Sherlock was returning the favor, shoving his jacket off of him and dropping it to the floor, long fingers immediately starting to work on the buttons of his shirt.
When his legs hit the table, his hands were already touching Sherlock's skin, pinching his nipples and enjoying the little moans that Sherlock emitted.
With one swift movement he reversed their position so that now Sherlock was the one leaning on the table. Shoving whatever there was on the table to the floor, he slowly pushed Sherlock down on his back. Once he was laying on the table, he released the lips and pulled back just to memorize the view. Sherlock was staring up at him, hair fanning a bit on the table, lips parted and chest heaving with heavy breathing. He smiled when he noticed how wide Sherlock's pupils were. Though he figured he had better not comment about it, since his were most likely the same.
"You think I am the bottom one?" Sherlock drawled out, tongue coming out to lick his lips. He lifted an eyebrow

"Of course. I am the older brother. I cannot be in such a position"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"So brother dear, you think this is the correct moment to remind ourselves of our blood relation"

He shrugged

"No. But neither of us are dump, we both know what we are doing and that the ordinary people will think it is wrong."

Sherlock huffed

"What do they know. They find the most mundane things important anyway"

He huffed as an answer, before leaning down and kissing Sherlock's chest, moving to the side to lick and tease one of Sherlock's hard nipples. His brother was unraveling fast, back arching of the table.
"Mycroft!" Sherlock called out and he ignored it, moving to focus on to the other nipple. But he was reminded that Sherlock was not one he could manipulate as he wanted when Sherlock wrapped his long legs around his hips and ground their manhoods together. He moaned out loud and Sherlock gave out a strangled gasp.
"Sherlock" he muttered but his brother was relentless, grinding them together again.

Then he straightened up and opened Sherlock's pants, who sat up and worked his belt and pants open in return. They made a good team and in no time were they both exposed to each other for the first time

"Too late to turn back" he said and Sherlock snorted

"Don't be melodramatic Mycroft" their eyes met and Sherlock smiled "It was too late the day I first time thought I wanted to kiss you"

"You always need to have the last word" he said and Sherlock winked at him

"I care about you too"

That was the closest they would ever come to confession. And he was shocked that it came so soon. But when Sherlock reached up and pulled him down, kissing him with open mouth and when Sherlock's tongue entered his mouth, he let it go. Caring was not an advantage, but there was good points to it too.
When he prepared to push into Sherlock he felt his brother tense under him but he knew better than to ask if he should wait. Sherlock had always been one to rush into the deep end. So he slowly eased himself in, marveling at the hot tightness of it. Sherlock's breathing was a bit pained so once he was fully inside he stopped and observed Sherlock's face. There was a slight frown on his face and his eyes were tightly shut.
But it only took a moment before one eye cracked open and Sherlock glared at him.
"Move. Don't tell me you are so out of shape you are tired already"

"Shut up Sherlock" he growled, pulling nearly out before pushing in again. Sherlock was squirming under him and he kept up a steady space, getting as much off from the movement as from watching Sherlock being lost in the moment. His mouth was ajar, his hand was gripping his arm and his hips were moving against his. And then he hit the spot, Sherlock's back arched fully off the table and his head was thrown back, exposing the long pale throat with the marks he had made earlier.
It made his stomach feel tight and hot and he increased the phase, making sure to hit Sherlock's prostate every time, the air filling up with Sherlock's panting and gasps and his grunts.
His vision blurred when Sherlock arched the last time, his cum splashing over his flat stomach, mouth open in silent moan.
And the muscles clenching around himself send him over the edge too, everything fading into background.
When he came back he was staring at the ceiling, sweat drops running down his back. He breathed few times before lowering his head and looking down at Sherlock who was lying on the table, eyes fixed on him. But they were not deducing, observing or taking him apart. They were just looking at him peacefully.
He pulled out of Sherlock and helped him to sit up. Then Sherlock slid off of the table, glancing at himself.

"Well. That was messy"

He didn't have anything to say to that so he stayed silent. Sherlock looked around the room and run a hand through his hair
"And next time, we better do this somewhere softer."

He blinked. Then smirked a bit
"But of course brother dearest."


Yes, I did try to keep them in character. done my best with proofreading and grammar too.
any and all mistakes can be blamed on me.
any and all opinions posted on this fic are also solely my own, not part of the BBC Sherlock crews ideals. so that no one goes blaming them for this.
yeah. I guess I am done with random ANs.
did you like the little fic? I think I had fun writing it. lost few hours to it at least without noticing.
good day to you all, I'm out.