What is Sherlock's dear older brother going to say?

Will he be happy for them? Or no?

There's a scene further on in this chapter that had me snorting with laughter when I came up with it.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter Ten - Mycroft

"Mycroft," Sherlock deadpanned.

Molly's eyes grew wide as saucers. "He's here? In my flat?" she all but squeaked out.

"Obviously," Sherlock muttered.

She began to button up the shirt, horrified that the elder Holmes should see her dressed in this manner.

"Think nothing of it," Sherlock told her, pressing a kiss below her ear before helping her down off the counter.

They walked together out of the kitchen. Mycroft was stood in the middle of the flat, dressed in an impeccable suit, leaning on his umbrella.

"What are you doing here, brother mine?" Sherlock questioned him with a sneer.

Mycroft returned the question with a glare. "Do forgive me for interrupting your carnal acts. Allow me to congratulate you on finding yourself a goldfish." His gaze softened as he looked at Molly. "Good morning Miss Hooper."

"Mo-morning," she stuttered; she had never been nervous around him before, but now she was just plain embarrassed.

His gaze returned to Sherlock. "I have been trying to contact you for the past twenty-four hours. Mrs. Hudson hasn't seen you, nor has Detective Inspector Lestrade, or John. You turned off your bloody mobile!" he spat out.

Molly's eyes grew even wider than before. Sherlock had turned off his phone? He never did that! She stole a glance at him, he looked positively thunderous.

"What could possibly be so important?" he questioned. "Has Moriarty decided to return from the grave again?" Sherlock crossed his arms in front of his bare chest, continuing to glare at his brother.

Mycroft let out a sigh, tapping the tip of his umbrella on the floor. "No. That is not it at all. The British Government is not in need of your assistance at the moment. No, this current problem touches far closer to … home." He grimaced slightly as he spoke the last word.

Sherlock's arms dropped to his sides. "No."

Molly looked from one to the other, not having a clue as to what was going on.

"I will not see him!" Sherlock all but growled, clenching his fists.

A pinched look appeared on Mycroft's face. "I'm afraid you have no choice. You know how he is. He came to the Diogenes Club yesterday morning, there's no avoiding him."

This time Sherlock did growl. "What the hell does he want?"

Mycroft gave a dramatic shrug. "How should I know? You're the only one who ever fully understood him."

"Is that why you're here? To warn me?"

"Yes, and to also remind you of Mummy." Mycroft's eyes flit over to Molly before returning to Sherlock. "You know how she worries. She'll be pleased to know that you at last found someone to … tolerate you. If you don't tell her, I just might do it myself." He spun on his heel, making his way towards the door. "Do be sure to tell Molly about the other one, it is clear by the expression on her face that she knows nothing about him."

Before another word could be spoken he exited the flat. Molly stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Sherlock walked over to the sofa and proceeded to curl up into a ball, his back facing her.

She rolled her eyes, knowing that he was most certainly entering into a full-blown sulk. She knew it was useless to ask him questions, at least at the moment; he would only ignore them or snap at her. Walking back into the kitchen she gave Toby's head a pat before pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee and making herself some eggs.

A half hour later she left the kitchen only to find Sherlock still sulking. That was it! She had had enough. She turned back into the kitchen to cook him some breakfast.

"Eat," she commanded, walking over to the sofa, a plate of toast and eggs in her hand.

Without a word he rolled over and sat up. She handed him the plate and he tucked in. Once he emptied the plate she handed him a cup of coffee. He sipped it, still not speaking a word.

Molly wanted to know who Mycroft had been talking about, to find out who was this 'other one', but she knew Sherlock far too well. She couldn't just out-right ask him, because if she did he would just close himself off. He had gotten better at talking to her about different things, but she knew that with this that would not be the case. If he was going to tell her, it would be done on his own terms.

She sat beside him and began to press gentle kisses onto his shoulder, slowly moving down his arm, sliding her hand over his chest. The sigh he let out let her know that he was enjoying this. He needed a distraction; what Mycroft had said had clearly upset him.

Sherlock's eyes fell closed. She moved her hand down his arm, circling her fingers around the mug he was holding. She took it out of his grasp and placed it on the coffee table.

"Lie back," she told him softly. He opened his eyes, giving her a questioning look, before doing as she asked. She continued to kiss his skin, sliding her hand down his stomach before slipping it under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. He let out a muffled sigh, it turning into a groan when she wrapped her hand around his cock. He was already half-hard.

She shifted herself, moving onto her knees. "Lift up your hips."

He did and she pushed his pyjamas down to his ankles. Another groan escaped his throat as the cool air hit his newly revealed skin. His eyes flew open when she took him into her mouth. Usually she did so gradually, not this time. He was fully hard now.

He cursed as she moved her mouth on his cock, his mind going blank. He bucked his hips slightly when she added her hand. She reached up with her other hand, taking his and lacing their fingers together. He wasn't going to last much longer. He squeezed her hand in warning but she paid no heed, continuing her ministrations. Minutes later he emptied himself down her throat, groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut. She kept him in her mouth until he was finished. She let his now-softened cock slip out from between her lips. She pressed a kiss to his stomach before she sat up, licking her lips.

Sherlock's head was thrown back against the cushion and he was breathing heavily. She shifted once more until she was no longer on her knees. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You haven't smoked recently, have you?" she asked him. "You taste different, better."

He shook his head, still unable to speak. She brought herself closer to him, placing her hand on his chest, directly over his racing heart.

"If I suck you off more often, will you stop smoking completely?" she asked.

He made it look as if he were deeply contemplating her words. "Hmm … your mouth on me, or my mouth on a cigarette? Such a difficult decision!"

She gave his chest a light swat and he chuckled.

"Yes. I would," he said. "That is a perfectly sound negotiation."

"Good."

Their lips met and he kissed her hungrily.

"Can we go back to bed?" she asked him breathlessly between kisses.

"Yes!"

He kicked off his pyjama bottoms and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. He made a quick removal of her knickers and his shirt, tossing them both to the floor.

They kissed for a time, their hands wandering over each other's naked bodies. She jumped slightly when she felt his erection press up against her.

"So soon?" she questioned him, teasing the head with the pad of her thumb. "Your recovery rate will never cease to amaze me!"

He silenced her with a kiss, grabbing her hand and pressing it down into the mattress.

"Sherlock?"

His was working his mouth downwards, leaving a hot trail of wet kisses. "Yes?"

"Care to join me in an experiment?"

He lifted up his head until he was hovering directly above her, his eyes were flashing with excitement. "Experiment?" he questioned, finding the blush that was covering her cheeks, to be rather delightful.

"Mmm … yeah," she said. "There's a position I've always wanted to try … but I never could ask any of my previous partners to do it with me. I don't know why really … it's rather silly of me -"

"Molly," he interrupted, "what's the position?"

She bit down on her bottom lip before telling him. He quickly agreed, his cock throbbing in anticipation. They got into position.

He delved into her, amazed at how deeply he could enter her like this. She was beneath him, lying on her stomach. Her legs were pulled tightly closed, stretched out straight. Her lovely round arse was perfectly on view to him as he thrust in and out of her core. Clearly she was enjoying it as much as he was, judging by the noises she was making. It wasn't long before he was teetering near the edge, feeling that all too familiar tightening sensation. He slowed his movements ever so slightly, wanting to drag it out, bring her over the edge with him. He rolled his hips, letting the tip of him press directly into the spot that made her scream. She pressed her face into the pillow and moaned loudly. He repeated this action several more times, before resuming his previous speed.

"CHRIST ALMIGHTY!" he suddenly yelled.

His whole body lurched. He pulled himself out of her, swinging his body around. Molly let out a disappointed whimper and lifted up her head to look at him. He was kneeling at the edge of the bed looking down.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You're bloody cat is what's wrong! It swatted at my scrotum!"

A loud snort of laughter erupted from her, she dropped her face back down into the pillow her shoulders shaking as she continued to laugh.

"Molly! I don't see as to how this is at all funny!" he groused.

She lifted up her head wiping away the few tears of mirth that had lurked out. "Sorry! But it is! My cat swatting at your bollocks! Oh my God! You know how cats are! They see any form of movement, swinging movement especially, and they think it's something to play with!"

He glared at her before he sat down on the bed and crossed his arms. Rolling her eyes she got up from the bed, scooped up Toby and carried him out of the bedroom. Upon returning she closed the door and walked over to Sherlock. He was, of course, pouting.

"Did he scratch you?" she asked.

"No."

"Can I have a look? Just to make sure?" She dipped her hand down, lightly stroking his glistening cock that had already started to soften, before slipping underneath and touching his balls. "Everything seems to be in perfect working order," she announced, moving to kneel on the bed in front him. She moved her hand away from his balls and brought up both hands to cradle his face. "Can we continue, or did that destroy the mood for you?"

His eyes drifted downwards to his lap. "I'm not entirely sure yet."

With a cheeky smile she dropped one of her hands from his face back down to his cock. "I'll solve that problem for you." She kissed him and wrapped her hand around his length before she gave him a gentle squeeze. He groaned into her mouth and could feel her smiling against his lips, his cock growing hard due to her ministrations.

She pulled her mouth and hand away from him, their eyes meeting. "Better?"

He nodded.

"We'll just have to make sure he's not in the bedroom from now on," she stated.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Obviously."

"Sherlock?"

"Mmm?" His eyes met hers once more.

"Can we, can we continue from where we left off? I rather liked doing it like that. It felt … incredible."

His smile was answer enough. She laid back down on her stomach, pressing her arse upwards ever so slightly, beckoning him to her, showing herself off to him. He could see her glistening, so wet for him, like always. He moved over to her, placing his knees on either side of her hips. She let out a wild moan when he slid himself back inside of her. He leaned forward until his chest was pressed against her back, rolling his hips but not thrusting.

"Oh Sherlock! Fuck!"

He smiled, nipping at her shoulder with his teeth, then the side of her neck. He rolled his hips again.

"Stop teasing me dammit!" she cried.

He let out a loud gasp when she pressed her arse up. Stifling a groan into her neck he began to thrust in and out of her. They both thought that it would take a little while to return to nearing the edge of orgasm that they had previously been so close to, but they both were wrong. It only took several more thrusts, the head of his cock pressing hard into her g-spot that sent them both into the abyss. She was practically wailing into the pillow, he could feel her shuddering around him. He let out a contented groan before he slipped out and collapsed beside her, pulling her up against him, spooning her.

After a few moments of them catching their breath she turned about so that she could face him. She nuzzled his neck before he tipped his head down so that they could kiss.

"Just think …," she said, "you now have a new story to horrify John with!"

Sherlock let out a loud chuckle and he kissed her again. They lay together in a comfortable silence. He curled himself against her body, his nose brushing against her neck. It never ceased to amaze her how much the man loved to cuddle.

"If you have any more experiments you'd like to try … do share," he murmured to her, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth.

Molly laughed, bringing her hand up to cup the back of his head before turning her face to meet his. They kissed and she smiled at him.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said.

He returned her smile then narrowed his eyes. "You can't stop thinking about what Mycroft said when he was here." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "Hardly the right train of thought while we are discussing sexual positions."

Molly dropped her hand away. "Sorry."

He let out a sigh and rolled onto his back, "It's all right. You deserve to know." He spoke the next three words with a hint of disdain,"The other one."

.

.

.

Hmmmmmmm … who could the Holmes' brothers be discussing? *wiggles eyebrows*

Moaning-in-the-morgue on tumblr is entirely to blame for that sex position Molly and Sherlock were doing …

And yes, the scrotum swat is what had me snorting with laughter! xD I told you this fic was cracky!