"If you wait for me then I'll come for you
Although I've traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart
If you think of me if you miss me once in awhile
Then I'll return to you
I'll return and fill that space in your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
If you dream of me like I dream of you
In a place that's warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
If you'll be waiting
I've longed for you and I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are
Remembering
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I'll find my way back to you
Please say you'll be waiting
Together again
It would feel so good to be in your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise if it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you
If you wait for me
And say you'll hold
A place for me
I in your heart…"
The Promise- Tracy Chapman
"Shhh; I will be so very fair with you gentle sir."
Mycroft cornered Gregory. A wild and free gait to his stride. Unparalleled passion in his voice.
"I will only flog you if you try to escape me."
"But M'lord, I was not trying to…"
"Hush I said. I will own my new stallion this eve…I shall show you unbridled."
Mycroft noticed John first.
It was as if electricity had fused him to the ground. His brother-in-law was watching his husband's deliberately predatorial gait transfixed. This amused their older brother to no end. Reaching slightly behind him, he touched Gregory's elbow to get his attention.
Lestrade looked over his shoulder in askance, Mycroft indicated.
The two had silent communication down to a hard science. Both of them softly smiled at the same time. Mycroft took his eyes off for just a second to share the radiating mirth with his husband before watching the theatrics the younger Holmes' were creating.
Of course everyone else missed it. Only six, maybe ten people here could even come close to picking out what was going on, even then only four understood the graveness of the situation. This was a dance of seduction, not to woo, but to conquer. At least this didn't fall under the category of 'motley' behavior per se, but he also knew his brother's singular mind.
It would be an interesting night indeed.
Lestrade took that moment to lean back into My, knowing he would enjoy the contact without being obvious. As a result, the eldest Holmes slid his hand gracefully into a resting position from his waist to hang comfortably. Gregory softly brushed fingertips with his lover. They had their own silent language that no one else knew. No one ever would.
Watching the two younger men out there amused him. He remembered that unreserved passion for one's lover; not to say they had cooled, but they were forged, honed. The other two were still young and untested in the ways of the world, everything was new.
Adjusting weight to his rear heel, he purposely brushed Gregory with a little insistence before heading to one of the purposely darkened corners of the room. Tonight was all by candlelight by design.
To be out in the open, but unexposed. To be able to watch, but be in the shadows, this appealed. This was a mirror image of their life.
My took a moment to lounge, watching his two brothers wrest for dominance in a very intricate dance.
He had to applaud them. Very controlled for so young in a relationship; but he can clearly see that Sherlock is leading John, teaching him the rules. He wondered if that was the inverse of what happened behind closed doors, how he picked up that particular trait. It was very good. He would have to complement Shirley later.
Now it was time to court his own husband. He had already loosed the last fastener of his vest and the first stay of his breeches. He made good use of the chaise, positioning himself perfectly. Mycroft knew his husband would read him properly well before he got near. He was glad that they had chosen the Columbina style. Low profile, fitted, it will give marvelous access and options to them.
Gregory gave an appreciative hum as he glided over to his spouse. His lover all dressed up, putting on a show for him. Glorious champagne colored silks, deep autumnal brocade hand stitched, piped with gold edging on his coat, piping mirrored on the clean silk breeches of My's bespoke clothing. Masterful. His vest that burnt deep citron that Gregory loved so much. He had noticed earlier that evening that his lover had his shoes died to match; that peacock. Lestrade could see the loosed stay peeking out from the lowest undone button in the vest. Mycroft wanted to be taken. Oh yes, but under his terms. Maybe a walk in the garden is what they needed. There were plenty of grottos where much more heated conversation could be acquired.
Gregory came to stand beside the chaise, then took a knee and proffered his hand. With a slight dip of his head he saluted Mycroft, "M'lord, how does your evening fair?"
"Very well. And yours sir?" Mycroft takes the offered hand and lays his fingertips upon it looking away again toward the dancing. Playing the part, enjoying the game.
"Better now that I have your attention," Lestrade gently brushes the nails on his husband's hand with his lips, exhaling deeply warming the skin. Keeping a hold of it, he begins barely nipping at the very tips, willing My to look at him.
"A bit cannibalistic tonight are we?" Teasing his husband gently, "Does one need to feed you more often?" My rolls his hips infinitesimally. Gregory tracks the movement knowing now that tonight is going to be white hot. He is purposely signaling to him. All for love of their game.
"Yes, M'lord. I am a bit peckish tonight."
"One might have to remedy that," Mycroft responded, trying to sound as noncommittal as possible, but settled on slightly bored. "Then again, you are the one that should be catering to me." Leaning forward propped perfectly on his elbow he gazed into his lover's eyes. He had dressed in all silver, deeply wrought and brocaded. A cooling effect, striking with the silver in his hair causing the warmth of his mahogany eyes to shine. Superb. Leaning just a bit farther, he breathed into his lover's ear whispering, "Are you hungry for cock tonight?"
The heat from his husband's breath set a low fire within Lestrade.
Mycroft stood slowly, settling himself then offered his hand to Gregory. Touring the outer edges of the room they left through the solarium for a walk in the night air.
Tearing through the bracken by the Gardener's greenhouse, Lestrade decides that moment to give a real chase. To the stables it was… My would take a bit to find him there. His heart racing in anticipation he rushed into the dark.
"Sortez, sortez où que vous soyez," Mycroft's voice came ghosting in the night air. "Ma fleur délicate, vous dépérir sans que mon cœur dans cette air de la nuit. Venez à moi maintenant et vous ne serez pas fouetté."
Damn. He knew how to cause an instantaneous reaction.
Wants me to falter, to yield.
Never.
"Essayez de régner accablant chaleur sur moi, je ne cédera jamais!"
Find me now my husband...
Earlier, while touring the gardens, they had walked amicably. Mycroft had his husband's arm tucked nicely within his. They were enjoying this moment of togetherness; it was not very often that they could experience each other this way.
Out of nowhere, one lane over in the hedge, Sherlock bounded through crying into the night air, "I will get you yet…Do not believe you have out foxed me!"
Looking at his brothers, giving an unhinged laugh, he darted off toward the rose garden and his prey.
The two elders shared a laugh at the ridiculous quality of the boys and their hunt.
"I bet father is glad we have gone out, to enjoy the night air. He and mummy will likely be running around the manor soon enough. 'Shining Knight' Bless them." Mycroft smiled easily in fondness. "I am so glad that I have you, Gregory."
"Hmm, and I you M'lord," Lestrade was feeling a bit adventurous as well.
The game.
The hunt.
These were appealing this evening.
"But I do wonder if you could claim me…" he teased.
Oh, this would be fun.
"One will give you a four minute start. Go NOW!" Mycroft became luminous.
Finally, after a sprint, Mycroft caught up to his lover.
Gregory would yield.
He would kneel.
Yes.
Turning into the stables, he halted, flourishing his coat commandingly.
"Oh, here you are, my precious stallion." Lustily eyeing his prize, Mycroft began undoing the stays to his vest.
"I am no ones thoroughbred, M'lord!" Gregory spat back, feeling the rush of adrenaline and lust mix within himself. A wild and free gait to his stride."You shall not bridle me."
"Shhh," Finishing the last stay, he opened his arms, offering his out stretched hands in supplication. Treating his lover as if he were a startled fresh virgin, "I will be so very fair with you gentle sir, I promise you this."
Mycroft cornered Gregory in that moment.
Unparalleled passion in his voice.
"I will only flog you if you try to escape me." Turning his words into a warning laced with dark intentions.
"But M'lord, I was not trying to…"
"Hush I said. I will own my new stallion this eve. I shall show you unbridled." Mycroft turned, grabbing his husband hard and fast, gripping onto his arms, "Oh, sir," his voice becoming reverent, "One has every right and claim to you. Body and soul."
Pulling his husband roughly, he kisses him hard and fast, bruising his lips into a flush. Raking his hands into Lestrade's hair he yanks, bringing the man to his knees. Looking down, he smiles beatifically, claiming his lips once more.
"You are mine!"
Ravishing his mouth, he takes deeply. Biting his husband's jaw, commanding him through force of will to submit. Yanking his head to the side, claiming his neck as his as well Mycroft purrs, "I promised; I'll break you gently if you do not struggle."
"Je ne vais pas soumettre, M'lord," Gregory cries out, "Vous aurez à me casser de votre propre conception!"
"Then I will, break you, bind you to me. I will have you beg…" Claiming his lover's mouth once again, he unties the stays of his breeches, releasing his already lustful cock. Standing, yanking again on Gregory's hair pulling him to look up at his husband, he rubs the taught flesh against his lover's cheek. "…for this, for me."
Lestrade groans into the lush feeling of his husband's cock against his skin. The way it feels on his evening rough cheek. Looking up, his eyes blown with lust, "Break me M'Lord. You are masterful in your desires."
Pulling Lestrade up, he hurls him toward the hay. It has been blanketed to help keep out the damp, making a wonderful bower for slaking need and hot desire. Packed firm, someone had planned ahead for this evenings festivities.
Wondrous.
"You will open to me, Gregory." Biting on his husband's neck once again, taking the man into his arms. Busying himself with loosing his lover's ties and stays he finally touches flesh. Thrilling desire courses through them both. Rubbing against the furled hair on his chest he pulls gently, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him.
"Yes, lover," Kissing where he had just tugged, "unparalleled lust awaits you."
Putting his full weight on his lover, Mycroft pins his chest forcing him to relent to the passionate onslaught. Snaking his hand down, he swiftly handles the remaining stays on both of their breeches. Running his hand around the waist and down the back he grabs the full backside, yanking it forward and grinding mercilessly, in complete control.
"Please…"
Dipping into the cleft, he runs his fingers tantalizingly along the sensitive skin. Raking with his nails he grips the well toned muscle beneath his hand.
"Please, M'lord."
"Mmmm, did you say something?" Mycroft breathed heavily against Lestrade's ear.
"Please have me…"
"Ah, there's a good man," Kissing gently now, "Yes, I will have you."
Pulling the packet of lubrication from his interior breast pocket, he tears it and slicks himself, leaving Lestrade to watch moaning. Yanking his husband's breeches down further, he rolls Lestrade's hips putting his legs over one of his shoulders, pressing into his lover's cleft his hand keeping him steady.
"My heart," he breathes, steadily applying pressure, allowing Lestrade to relax at his own pace. "My soul. Open for me. You are mine." Endeavoring to claim his husband he pushes with a bit more force, just enough to cause a slight shock of pain. "Relent."
Mycroft coaxes, whispering, running his other fingers through his lover's hair. Lestrade opens for him beautifully, moments later. The sheen of sex and need upon them. Full hilt thrusts, deep and angled, the most wonderful friction. "Touch yourself," He commands.
"Holy Christ!" Lestrade cries as his husband dominates him. Filling him, pushing him to frenzy. "My, lover!" He needs to feel his husband's seed within him. "Can't stand it!"
Driving them further, Mycroft is unrelenting. "You will race with me lover. Sodded magnificent bastard! I will loose for you, mine only." Deep and hard they flew together, the wrench from the pull of Mycroft ejaculating sent waves of white blinding light through Gregory pulling him over as well.
Pulling out of his husband, he rolled, pulling him to his side. Grabbing the corner of the woolen blanket, he ensconced them in the warmth. "You flew so beautifully for me tonight, my heart." Raining small loving kisses onto Lestrade's cheek and mouth.
"Love you so, My. Love you so…"
Author's notes:
This is my first time writing My/Strade.
I see their relationship as very deep, very loving,
but like a river it may seem calm above
but there are a million undercurrents that tow them to the rapids.
