Warning for Holmescest and double-penetration. Thanks to IBegToDreamAndDiffer , KayLeFay, and tmmdeathwishraven for your reviews! Deklava

When Mycroft nodded, exhilarated, he was untied, grabbed by two sets of eager hands, and re-positioned so quickly that vertigo nearly knocked him to the mattress. Now Lestrade was lying on his back, feeding his cock back into Mycroft's clenching passage while Sherlock held his brother steady.

"Mmmm. Oh, God." Mycroft shuddered as Gregory rotated his hips carefully, catching his prostate with each upward nudge. He felt sticky fluid ooze out of his cock onto Lestrade's soft middle.

"You're beautiful, Myc. Totally wanton."

Mycroft was about to return the compliment –somehow (is it appropriate to call a Dom wanton?)- when Sherlock touched him between the shoulder blades and leaned him forward until his chest pressed against Lestrade's.

"Be careful, Sherlock," he pleaded softly.

"I've done this before. Don't fuss."

"Hey." Gregory tried to sound severe, and failed. "He can fuss all he likes."

Mycroft smiled and brushed his lips against his lover's. "It might be easier on all of us if I don't. I'll just try to- aaah!"

A generously lubed fingertip suddenly traced his already-stretched sphincter before pushing gently inside, pressing against Lestrade's cock. Breathing deeply and willing himself to relax, Mycroft buried his face in the crook of Gregory's neck and closed his eyes, wanting to focus fully on this new sensation, this new experience. It didn't hurt, but there was an intense pressure that kept it from being pleasurable… yet.

Sherlock carefully slid in a second finger and began scissoring, the slick digits caressing both his brother's shivering walls and Lestrade's erection. Both men fell silent, concentrating on the sensations that assailed them individually.

Mycroft was impressed by how slow and gentle his brother was being. Memories flashed through his head of Sherlock tearing through things like a human whirlwind: Christmas presents, evidence packages stolen from the morgue, other peoples' mail. When the imagery made him unconsciously tense up, Sherlock whispered, "I'm not going to damage you too, Mycroft. Relax."

Suddenly the fingers disappeared and slick hands grasped his hips, raising his arse a little higher. Gregory didn't complain about slipping out a couple of inches, but he did wrap his powerful arms around Mycroft and hold his upper body firmly in place. "Love you, Myc."

Mycroft was about to reply, but the slow, deliberate push of Sherlock's erection into his already-stuffed hole froze the breath in his throat. He gulped air like a beached fish and choked, "Christ, so full. Hurts a little."

Sherlock paused and ran a smooth palm over his lower back, waiting for the go-ahead to continue. Gregory lowered one hand from his shoulder to his still-hard cock and fisted it slowly, sensually. Mycroft groaned and rutted into the clenched fist, feeling pleasure muffle the now-distant ache in his arse.

"Ohhhh. Continue."

Sherlock slid into him by slow and careful increments until he felt his younger brother's balls tapping against his. Mycroft exhaled in light, whimpering gasps and went completely still, letting his body adjust to the dual invasion. Sherlock shifted his knees, which flanked Lestrade's thighs, and swore under his breath, while Gregory hissed, released his cock, and dug his fingers into Mycroft's hips. He knew how hot and wet and impossibly tight he must feel to both their cocks.

"Nobody move just yet," he begged. "Don't worry, I'm okay. Greg… talk."

Lestrade's eyes snapped open. His pupils were dark pools of lust. He grasped Mycroft's face and said hoarsely, "Such a cock slut, love. Aren't you?"

"Yes… yes!" Mycroft loved it whenever Gregory let loose with a stream of dirty words and hot accusations. His arousal skyrocketed and the ache subsided slightly.

"Look at you- two stiff cocks in your arse. Want a third one for your talented mouth? All I'd have to do is shout and there'd be enough horny blokes in here to satisfy an insatiable slut like you."

Mycroft flushed, shuddering as a pleasurable heat consumed his entire body. "You're always enough to satisfy me, Greg."

"Mmm, I love flattery." Lestrade's hand wandered down to his arse and dealt it a sharp crack. All three of them moaned when the vibrations from the blow made their hyper-stimulated nerves ring.

Mycroft pushed himself up onto his elbows, biting his lip as he felt them shift and roll inside him. "Oh, fuck… okay, okay, I'm ready."

Lestrade grabbed him by the hair and drew him into a kiss that was all tongue and spit and hot, excited breath. At the same time, Gregory pushed upward with his hips. Sherlock swore softly as the shift in position made Mycroft squeeze around both cocks, and began carefully thrusting.

"We're both going to come inside you," Lestrade panted against Mycroft's lips. "And then maybe I'll plug you so that you stay open and ready for another go in the morning."

Mycroft whimpered. He tried to remember the last time he'd felt everything so keenly during sex. The way they thrust and rolled against each other in his passage was so intense that he wondered if he'd actually lose consciousness.

"Greg… Sherlock… so much, so much!"

But not too much.

He could feel their erections quivering, and knew from their quickening movements and increasingly irregular breathing that they were about to come.

"Touch me!" he begged, wanting to join them. "I'm almost there!"

Sherlock's sweaty fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked, using his thumb to spread the pre-come across the sticky and sensitive head. Mycroft thrust into it, eyes rolling back into his head as he rocked frantically between his brother's hand and both their cocks. Lestrade claimed his mouth again, biting his lip while applying just the right amount of pressure to his nipples. The bedsprings creaked in protest as their fucking intensified.

Mycroft screamed as orgasm ripped through him. He arched his back, unable to refrain from ecstatic sobs as he spurted all over Gregory's front and the expensive duvet. He was dimly aware of Sherlock and Lestrade grunting and pushing one more time into his twitching channel before thick and sticky warmth flooded him.

For a moment Mycroft felt like he was floating. Then a hormonal afterglow washed over his tired, sated body, temporarily holding the aches and pains at bay. Gregory cuddled him and stroked his hair as Sherlock pulled carefully out, leaving a trail of cum and lube in his wake.

"All right, Myc?" Lestrade murmured.

Mycroft nodded and closed his eyes. He knew he'd be hurting when full sensibility returned, but right now all he felt were strong arms and moist kisses and Sherlock's long fingers caressing his hip.

Then weariness set in and he knew nothing further.