I was just in the mood for some sweet Mycroft/John, I hope you enjoy

Chapter 2

John wasn't… concerned when Sherlock didn't return for the rest of the day. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for a time though more often than not lately he'd been taking John with him. He had spent the day exploring Mycroft's home and had even taken a book from the library and a cup of tea out into the garden to read in the afternoon. He thought this might be his favourite part of the place, space to actually be outside and breathe in fresh air, feel the sun on his skin.

There was a nice sized gazebo, but John dragged one of the chairs out from underneath, instead setting himself up in somewhat shady spot, where the sun still managed to peek down on him.

He stayed there until the air started to cool and his stomach started to grumble. He replaced the chair and made his way back inside, thinking about what he could whip up for dinner and if either of the Holmes boys would be around to join him.

When he entered the kitchen, he was surprised to find Mycroft was already there, packing what looked to be boxes of tea into a cupboard. His breath caught at the broad back before him, causing Mycroft to spin around his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"What are you up to?" John asked with a cheeky smile and Mycroft looked down sheepishly. "I bought a selection of teas for you to try, I was just packing them away."

John's hearted melted at the words. Firstly, because Mycroft had done something so kind for John but also because he knew it took a lot for Mycroft to admit to any kind of feeling, even indirectly.

"Thank you" John said warmly.

"It was nothing" Mycroft said dismissively, already turning back to the cupboard. "I know how much you like tea."

"What would you like for dinner?" John asked, changing the topic and sparing Mycroft from any more talk of tea.

Mycroft glanced at John out of the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps a curry."

John smiled, "well you are in luck, because that happens to be one of my specialties."

"Where is Sherlock?" Mycroft asked as John started pulling everything out of the cupboards and fridge that he would need for dinner.

"I'm not actually sure" John said with a shrug, "that's more your area."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at him in amusement, "he has gone underground. Did you two have a fight?"

John spluttered, "no."

"I'm sure he will turn up again in a few days."

Mycroft wasn't actually sure what Sherlock's game was at the moment. He knew his little brother had left not long after him this morning but had managed to give him the slip not long after. He shook off thoughts of his brother and concentrated back on the man before him. Eyes travelling over a strong back, currently wrapped in soft wool, down to a small waist and gorgeous arse.

He glanced away as John turned to speak to him.

"Why don't you go wash up and I will get cracking on this?"

Mycroft nodded, turning to leave and missing the way John's eyes ran over him as he walked away.

Mycroft made his way upstairs to his room, he washed his face and hands and stood awkwardly in front of his wardrobe trying to decide if he should change or not.

He couldn't very well put on pyjamas, but a suit seemed too formal. It was an unusual conundrum for him as he rarely had people staying with him or even ate at home. He had made particular effort to get away earlier so that he would be home to spend some time with John, especially as he knew that Sherlock had not yet returned. It was a rare treat indeed to have John all to himself and he was not going to waste the opportunity.

He decided to change into something a little less formal, a nice, collared shirt and black pants. He held no allusions that he was an attractive man, but overall, he thought the effect was rather pleasing.

When he returned back downstairs, he found John bustling around setting the table. Mycroft felt heat rush to his groin, the sight of John in his home, of them getting ready to settle down for an evening meal together, the sheer domesticity of it all had want coursing through him.

He moved forward to help John, not able to resist the opportunity to brush against him as they laid the table.

They spoke as they ate, of their childhoods – as different as night and day. Of John's time in the army and Mycroft's time at university. John spoke of his sister, Harry and Mycroft had them both laughing as he told stories of Sherlocks exploits in his youth.

After dinner they settled on the couch together and watched a little TV, they kept a careful distance between them, but Mycroft couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy.

Mycroft was gone by the time John got up the next morning, he didn't have long to dwell on his disappointment though as he was back to work today and had to get ready.

He didn't particularly love his job at the clinic, but it gave him a chance to help people and to be honest they needed the money. They couldn't get by on the cases that he and Sherlock solved, seeing as how they usually didn't pay anything at all.

He dressed in one of the new outfits that Mycroft had gotten him and headed out the door. Thankfully Mycroft had told him the codes for both the gate and house so that John could lock up and get back in that afternoon. Mycroft's house was a little bit further for John to get to work, including a walk, a train and then another walk, but John honestly didn't mind.

He hadn't gone more then five steps down the road when a dark car pulled up beside him. John felt his heart skip a beat, thinking it was Mycroft, but no, the back door opened, and a tall man stepped out.

"My Watson, Mr Holmes has organised for you to be driven to work" he said in a thick Irish accent.

John was taken aback for a moment; Mycroft had organised a lift to work for him. To make his life easier. John felt such a strong rush of affection, he couldn't breathe for a moment. No one had ever shown him such care in his entire life as Mycroft had in the last few days. He swallowed thickly and climbed in the car, the man moving to climb in the front.

He rode in silence, the man opening the door when they pulled up in front of the clinic.

"We will meet you here this evening when you finish."

"Th-thank you" John stuttered as he walked inside, mind completely wrapped up in thoughts of Mycroft.

He thought of Mycroft's beautiful, intelligent eyes, that got John all hot and bothered whenever they were focused on him, as he ordered blood tests on an elderly woman who was feeling exhausted.

He wondered how Mycroft's large, strong hands would feel gripping his hips as he listened to the lungs of a young woman with a persistent cough.

He daydreamed about waking up next to Mycroft every morning, seeing that small quirk of the lips that meant the older man was amused, as he wrote down the weight of a middle-aged man.

By the time his lunch break rolled around he was feeling rather antsy, a steady thrum running under his skin. He left the surgery, head low and hoping against all hope that Mycroft or one of his underlings wasn't watching him right now. He quickly walked a few blocks over until he came to a non-descript black door, that he ducked inside of without further ado.

He didn't have long as he perused the wall of dildos in all shapes, colours and sizes. He grabbed a rather large blue one and hurried to the register, ignoring the sales assistants knowing leer as it was placed into a black bag.

His favourite toys were all unreachable, stuck in the half burnt out flat on Baker's Street and he knew he would need something to relieve the tension before he ended up wound so tight, he'd start snapping at people and being a right arsehole.

Feeling a little more composed now that he had a plan in place, he did his best to push all thoughts of Mycroft out of his mind for the afternoon.

He smiled at the car waiting for him as he exited the building at the end of his shift, climbing in with a nod to the same Irish chap who had greeted him that morning.

John couldn't explain how relieved he was when he returned home to find Mycroft wasn't home yet. Not that he'd really expected him to be, but still.

He didn't waste any time hurrying upstairs, wrestling the dildo out of its packaging and giving it a through clean before retiring to his room.

He'd been half hard all day and it only took a few smooth strokes to have him fully hard, precum beading at the top. He laid back on his bed, pulling out the lube he had bought earlier and liberally coating his fingers. He spent long minutes circling his rim, thinking of Mycroft's thick fingers, enjoying the wait, before he finally started easing a finger inside. He groaned at the feeling, pre cum already starting to dribble down his cock as he worked the first finger inside.

He wrapped a hand around one of his knees and pulled it up, letting the change in position open him up more as he pushed the second finger inside. He didn't search for his prostate yet, simply enjoying the slight burn that came with being stretched.

He scissored his fingers slowly, before pushing in the third, moaning loudly as he was filled and the restlessness that had been coursing through him all day started to ease.

When he could move the three fingers comfortably in and out of himself, he gently pulled his fingers out. Grabbing his new dildo and coating it in lube he rolled onto his stomach, pushing up onto his knees as he immediately started working the dildo inside.

He was glad no one else was in the house as more noises worked their way out of his mouth, moans and groans and little gasps as the dildo stretched him even more then his three fingers.

Sweat beaded his brow as he started to fuck himself with gusto.

"Harder, harder" he moaned to himself, imaging it was Mycroft behind him, gripping his hips forcefully as he fucked him. His legs shaking as the pressure built.

He reached a hand down, gripping his drooling cock as he felt his orgasm start to crest.

"Cu-cum in me, want you to cum in me" he groaned as the dildo repeatedly hit his prostate and he worked his cock furiously.

His body locked up as he came, a satisfied grunt leaving his hips as cum coated his fingers. His knees slid out from under him as he collapsed onto the bed, feeling content and relaxed, hole still clenching rhythmically around the dildo.

He allowed himself a few moments to bask before he rolled over, pulling out the dildo before grabbing his previously discarded shirt and cleaning himself up. He paused as a creak echoed through the house, waiting to hear if Mycroft or Sherlock had returned. When he heard nothing else, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a clean set of clothes and ducking across the hall in a naked dash into the bathroom.

The hot water from the shower after a wonderful orgasm had him feeling loose and happy and he couldn't wipe the small smile off his face as he made his way downstairs to begin dinner.

He'd had the forethought to place some salmon in the fridge before leaving that morning, and he got to work preparing a salad as the fish simmered in the pan. He had no idea if Mycroft or Sherlock would be home for dinner, but he prepared food for them, nonetheless.

Seeing as how it was just himself, he didn't bother setting the table, instead making his way into the lounge room and watching TV as he ate, it wasn't as nice as the night before when Mycroft had been with him.

Two days had passed since he had last seen Mycroft and three days since he'd seen Sherlock. He didn't bother trying to find either of them, besides calling their mobiles, he had no idea where he would even start. He wasn't worried per se, but he was starting to feel a little lonely. Sarah from work had asked him out to dinner again and he was nearly tempted to say yes just so he had someone other than his patients to talk to. He didn't of course, he had no interest in the woman and it wouldn't have been right to lead her on like that.

He wasn't sure what to do if they didn't come home soon, perhaps contact Greg and see if he'd heard anything?

He went to sleep with that thought in mind, only to be woken a few hours later by loud voices echoing up the stairs.

"Pathetic!"

That was Sherlock, John jumped out of bed, not even bothering to throw on his robe before hurrying downstairs.

"Mind your own business, Sherlock" Mycroft growled, angrier than John had ever seen him.

"John is my business" Sherlock hissed back.

John's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, they were arguing, about him? He cleared his throat, gaining both brothers attention.

"Hello" he said calmly. "Is there a problem?"

Mycroft's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, Sherlock however didn't hold back.

"I leave you two alone for days and you still can't sort your shit out" he snapped with a condescending roll of his eyes.

"Sort our shit out?" John asked, amusement colouring his tone.

"Yes" Sherlock sneered. "The fact you and Mycroft clearly want each other but are refusing to do anything about it."

John spluttered his face flushing crimson, as he glanced over at Mycroft. Okay, maybe he hadn't been as subtle as he had thought.

"I thought if I left you alone for a few days it would be enough for you to realise your feelings for each other, but instead it turns out Mycroft hasn't even been home in days."

John stayed silent, what could he possibly say to that?

"And what's more," Sherlock continued, clearly warming to his rant, "he won't even tell me why he hasn't been home in days."

"I told you it is none of your business" Mycroft said, not meeting John's eyes, and John felt his heart sink. If Sherlock had figured out his feelings, then Mycroft must've as well. That must be why he hadn't returned home in days, great now he was making the older man uncomfortable in his own home.

"It's clear something has happened, but what?" Sherlock continued and Mycroft actually looked uncomfortable.

John felt bad. "Just leave it Sherlock," he said quietly. They would have to look for somewhere else to stay, John thought gloomily.

"It's something sexual" Sherlock continued, as he watched Mycroft intently, eyes flicking to John and then back again.

"You caught John masturbating" Sherlock surmised as John squawked loudly in embarrassment. "And John isn't even aware of the fact."

John's eyes swung wildly between Mycroft and Sherlock his face burning. He knew Sherlock was right yet again, when he saw the delicate flush high on Mycroft's cheeks.

Sherlock groaned loudly at his brother's apparent idiocy, "dear God, man, why are you so embarrassed? He would have been thinking of you while he fucked himself."

John felt his spirit leave his body for a moment.

"That is enough, Sherlock" Mycroft said, his voice coming out cold and stern, even as his cheeks shone.

Sherlock scoffed, "it's the truth though! If you'd only grow a pair of balls and talk to John."

Mycroft looked down and John realised just how much the other man was struggling.

"It is the truth" John spoke up hesitantly, ignoring Sherlock's triumphant "huh!" as he tried to catch Mycroft's eye. However, the older man was resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

"You don't have to do this, John." Mycroft said quietly. "Give in to Sherlock's ramblings… try to spare my feelings."

John frowned, "I'm not trying to spare anything. I really was thinking about you."

Mycroft looked sceptical, "begging me to go harder, begging me to cum in you?"

Sherlock made a gagging noise and swiftly walked out of the room.

"I wanted to feel you running out of me for the rest of the day" John said sheepishly, looking away as he revealed one of his fantasies.

He glanced up again as he heard Mycroft making his way across the room towards him, a hand reaching out to grip John's hip.

"Wanted me to mark you? Claim you as mine" Mycroft asked, his voice like velvet as John nodded eagerly.

Mycroft scanned his face for a moment, no doubt taking in every micro expression to judge John's honesty, John let him look, let all the lust and love shine through until Mycroft was satisfied with what he was seeing.

The hand on his hip tightened while the other came up to caress John's cheek.

"I would like that" Mycroft said softly, as he leaned down and brushed John's lips with his own.

"I expect a bigger lab!" Sherlock cried out from somewhere in the house and John couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up from his throat as he stared up at the other man, face shining in happiness.