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nickelsandcoatsTitle: I’ll Give You Everything You Need (You’ve Given Me Everything I Want) 7/? || at Ao3
Author: Sarah/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nickelsandcoats
Rating: PG13 for this part
Spoilers: Spoilers (eventually) for all of season 2!
Word Count: ~1,400 for this part
Pairings: Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Mycroft's never given his feathers to anyone before, but one person wins him over without even trying.
Notes: Forflying_dreamz's prompt here at my shuffle meme post. She asked for #103, which was, for this part, "The Dream of a Normal Death" from the Doctor Who: Series Three soundtrack by Murray Gold.
This is a sequel to Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You). You really should read that one first before you read this story or this story will not make any sense. One last note: this story is set pre-Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You) and will eventually end up post-Reichenbach. Expect lots of angst.
part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi
I know it's a little shorter than the other parts, but this was a natural breaking point.
“Do you realise what today is?” Mycroft asked as Gregory sat down at the table.
Gregory looked around, bemused, at the other diners, and replied, “’Fraid I don’t, sorry.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss across Mycroft’s cheek.
“We met five years ago today.”
“Really?” Gregory smiled as he took a sip of his wine and savoured it before adding, “I hadn’t remembered the day.” He raised his glass and said, quietly, “To Sherlock, without whom we never would have met.”
Mycroft’s lips quirked a bit and touched his glass to Gregory’s. Their feet were entwined under the table for the entire meal, and when they stood to leave, Mycroft’s hand was warm on the small of Gregory’s back. They didn’t stop touching on the ride home: Gregory’s fingers brushing over the back of Mycroft’s hand resting on Gregory’s thigh, Mycroft tracing nonsense patterns into the weave of Gregory’s trousers.
It had been a little over a month since he had whispered his confession of love into the darkness of his bedroom, and in that time, Gregory had been staying over more and more often. Nights spent carefully avoiding any overtly sexual touch had morphed into not being close enough. The first time Gregory’s mouth had closed around his cock, Mycroft knew he would never be able to get enough of this man. The first time he returned the favour, ten minutes later, he knew he would never be able to disentangle his life from this man’s and a feeling of peace settled over him. He thought of the feather Mummy had given Gregory, and then he allowed himself one wild, heady moment of imagining giving Gregory one of his feathers himself and binding his life to this extraordinary man.
But he shied away from that thought as soon as it finished forming. Gregory could never know what Mycroft could do, what and who he truly was no matter how much Mummy pushed him into revealing himself. It was far too dangerous a secret, and if, Heavens forbid, Gregory was ever kidnapped, tortured, and questioned, the secret would come out (no one can resist torture indefinitely) and then Mycroft’s entire family would be in danger. Mycroft’s enemies would eventually learn where Mycroft’s weakness was, and would exploit it. He would be powerless to resist their demands, especially if his bond-mate was in danger.
No, it was better to keep it secret than endanger Gregory in such a way. He bit back a sad sigh and looked to Gregory, memorising how the streetlight flashed across his face, picking out his features.
When the car stopped outside his door, Mycroft got out and held out a hand for Gregory, who took it with a soft smile. He pulled the other man in close and kissed Gregory thoroughly, chasing the faint taste of wine in his mouth. Gregory pressed him backwards until Mycroft’s back was against the door, and then one of Gregory’s clever hands was in pocket, removing the keys and fumbling one handed with them (his other hand was pressing tightly in between Mycroft’s shoulder blades) until he got the proper key in the lock and turned the knob, pushing Mycroft back into the darkened hallway.
Mycroft pulled back, slipping one hand down to Gregory’s waistband, tugging his shirt free, and sliding his hand over warm skin. “Gregory, I…” he swallowed thickly as warm lips traced a line up his throat. “I would very much like it if you…” Now there were hands on his tie, carefully untying the knot and pulling it loose from his collar. “If you would take me to bed,” he finished, capturing Gregory’s hands in his own, making the other man look him in the eye.
Greg swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You mean…?”
Mycroft nodded, a flush stealing its way up his chest to heat his cheeks.
Greg’s smile flashed predatorily before he gentled it, pulling Mycroft in close as he leaned in and murmured, “I would like that very much indeed.” He nipped at Mycroft’s earlobe then started tugging him down the hallway to their bedroom.
They let go of each other just long enough to shut the bedroom door. Mycroft turned to look back at Gregory, who gave him a long, slow smirk and started undoing his shirt buttons, revealing a long stripe of skin that Mycroft’s fingers ached to touch. He caught himself staring and shook his head to recall himself. When he dared to meet to Gregory’s eyes, he saw the love shining through them before he realised that his lover was laughing at him.
“You’re allowed to look, y’know,” Gregory said gently. “It’s not like you’ve not seen me starkers before.”
That first time’s particular memory, made only a month ago, made Mycroft squirm a little with need. “Gregory,” he started, then paused licking his lips. Something in his demeanour must have said something to Greg, who instantly dropped his hands away from his buttons and waited, patiently, for whatever Mycroft was going to say next. “I’ve never, I mean, I’ve not ever⎯”
Greg’s eyes widened and Mycroft immediately backtracked. “I’m not a virgin,” he said, firmly. “But this, this is different, this is important, this will change everything and I don’t want to ruin…” Gregory cut him off with a searing kiss.
“This changes nothing except for the better,” Gregory whispered against his lips, peppering his words with soft kisses.
“You can’t know that,” Mycroft protested. “No one can know that.”
“I do. I know that this, that we, will only get better from here. Do you know how I know that?”
Mycroft shook his head mutely.
Gregory smiled a truly heart shattering smile. Mycroft felt his breath and his heart stutter in his chest. “I know because I love you,” Gregory said, cupping one hand to Mycroft’s cheek. “And because you love me, I know it.”
Mycroft’s face crumpled under the force of his emotions which threatened to send him soaring and to drown him simultaneously. Gregory, sensing his distress, eased him down onto the bed and held him tightly, whispering nonsense into his hair as he smoothed a hand down Mycroft’s back. When the tremors eased, Gregory pulled back slightly to kiss Mycroft’s forehead and held his lips there for a long moment.
“No one outside my family has ever said that to me,” Mycroft confessed after a moment, pushing his face against Gregory’s chest.
“I’ll tell you every day,” Gregory vowed. “You deserve to hear it every day, and to know every moment that I do.”
They held each other for a long time before Mycroft leaned down and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to Gregory’s lips.
“Gregory?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you?”
Gregory’s response was a fiery kiss that stole Mycroft’s breath and sent his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Gregory could feel it through his open shirt.
After, their hearts thundering and their skin slick with sweat, Gregory pulled Mycroft close, slipping out and feeling the cool slick of his semen trickle down Mycroft’s thigh. “We should get you cleaned up,” he said, sliding one finger through the mess.
“Mmmm, in a moment,” Mycroft said, lacing his fingers through Gregory’s and pulling his hand up to press a kiss to his palm.
“Lazy sod,” Gregory breathed as he stood, reluctantly pulling his hand free. Mycroft pouted at him and Gregory rolled his eyes, striding into the bathroom to wet a flannel. He cleaned himself off with quick, practiced strokes, and returned to the bedroom, gently wiping the warm flannel over Mycroft’s body before sliding back under the duvet.
Mycroft immediately turned onto his side and slid down just a bit so he could rest his head over Gregory’s heart, listening to its steady beat. They settled into a quiet near-doze when Mycroft abruptly said, “Move in with me.”
Greg caught his breath and held it. Mycroft froze and stiffened in his arms, waiting for rejection even after all that they’d shared that night.
“Hey,” Greg nudged at him until Mycroft reluctantly met his eyes. He grinned and said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, that’s a yes, you sod.”
Mycroft surged up to meet Gregory and their mouths crashed together.
“Thank you,” Mycroft breathed when they parted, gasping.
Gregory’s expression was tender. “No,” he murmured softly, “Thank you.”
Mycroft heard the years of loneliness, of heartache and loss and rejection in those words and held Gregory tightly, counting his heartbeats until he fell asleep.
part viii
Author: Sarah/
nickelsandcoatsRating: PG13 for this part
Spoilers: Spoilers (eventually) for all of season 2!
Word Count: ~1,400 for this part
Pairings: Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Mycroft's never given his feathers to anyone before, but one person wins him over without even trying.
Notes: For
flying_dreamz's prompt here at my shuffle meme post. She asked for #103, which was, for this part, "The Dream of a Normal Death" from the Doctor Who: Series Three soundtrack by Murray Gold.This is a sequel to Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You). You really should read that one first before you read this story or this story will not make any sense. One last note: this story is set pre-Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You) and will eventually end up post-Reichenbach. Expect lots of angst.
part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi
I know it's a little shorter than the other parts, but this was a natural breaking point.
“Do you realise what today is?” Mycroft asked as Gregory sat down at the table.
Gregory looked around, bemused, at the other diners, and replied, “’Fraid I don’t, sorry.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss across Mycroft’s cheek.
“We met five years ago today.”
“Really?” Gregory smiled as he took a sip of his wine and savoured it before adding, “I hadn’t remembered the day.” He raised his glass and said, quietly, “To Sherlock, without whom we never would have met.”
Mycroft’s lips quirked a bit and touched his glass to Gregory’s. Their feet were entwined under the table for the entire meal, and when they stood to leave, Mycroft’s hand was warm on the small of Gregory’s back. They didn’t stop touching on the ride home: Gregory’s fingers brushing over the back of Mycroft’s hand resting on Gregory’s thigh, Mycroft tracing nonsense patterns into the weave of Gregory’s trousers.
It had been a little over a month since he had whispered his confession of love into the darkness of his bedroom, and in that time, Gregory had been staying over more and more often. Nights spent carefully avoiding any overtly sexual touch had morphed into not being close enough. The first time Gregory’s mouth had closed around his cock, Mycroft knew he would never be able to get enough of this man. The first time he returned the favour, ten minutes later, he knew he would never be able to disentangle his life from this man’s and a feeling of peace settled over him. He thought of the feather Mummy had given Gregory, and then he allowed himself one wild, heady moment of imagining giving Gregory one of his feathers himself and binding his life to this extraordinary man.
But he shied away from that thought as soon as it finished forming. Gregory could never know what Mycroft could do, what and who he truly was no matter how much Mummy pushed him into revealing himself. It was far too dangerous a secret, and if, Heavens forbid, Gregory was ever kidnapped, tortured, and questioned, the secret would come out (no one can resist torture indefinitely) and then Mycroft’s entire family would be in danger. Mycroft’s enemies would eventually learn where Mycroft’s weakness was, and would exploit it. He would be powerless to resist their demands, especially if his bond-mate was in danger.
No, it was better to keep it secret than endanger Gregory in such a way. He bit back a sad sigh and looked to Gregory, memorising how the streetlight flashed across his face, picking out his features.
When the car stopped outside his door, Mycroft got out and held out a hand for Gregory, who took it with a soft smile. He pulled the other man in close and kissed Gregory thoroughly, chasing the faint taste of wine in his mouth. Gregory pressed him backwards until Mycroft’s back was against the door, and then one of Gregory’s clever hands was in pocket, removing the keys and fumbling one handed with them (his other hand was pressing tightly in between Mycroft’s shoulder blades) until he got the proper key in the lock and turned the knob, pushing Mycroft back into the darkened hallway.
Mycroft pulled back, slipping one hand down to Gregory’s waistband, tugging his shirt free, and sliding his hand over warm skin. “Gregory, I…” he swallowed thickly as warm lips traced a line up his throat. “I would very much like it if you…” Now there were hands on his tie, carefully untying the knot and pulling it loose from his collar. “If you would take me to bed,” he finished, capturing Gregory’s hands in his own, making the other man look him in the eye.
Greg swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You mean…?”
Mycroft nodded, a flush stealing its way up his chest to heat his cheeks.
Greg’s smile flashed predatorily before he gentled it, pulling Mycroft in close as he leaned in and murmured, “I would like that very much indeed.” He nipped at Mycroft’s earlobe then started tugging him down the hallway to their bedroom.
They let go of each other just long enough to shut the bedroom door. Mycroft turned to look back at Gregory, who gave him a long, slow smirk and started undoing his shirt buttons, revealing a long stripe of skin that Mycroft’s fingers ached to touch. He caught himself staring and shook his head to recall himself. When he dared to meet to Gregory’s eyes, he saw the love shining through them before he realised that his lover was laughing at him.
“You’re allowed to look, y’know,” Gregory said gently. “It’s not like you’ve not seen me starkers before.”
That first time’s particular memory, made only a month ago, made Mycroft squirm a little with need. “Gregory,” he started, then paused licking his lips. Something in his demeanour must have said something to Greg, who instantly dropped his hands away from his buttons and waited, patiently, for whatever Mycroft was going to say next. “I’ve never, I mean, I’ve not ever⎯”
Greg’s eyes widened and Mycroft immediately backtracked. “I’m not a virgin,” he said, firmly. “But this, this is different, this is important, this will change everything and I don’t want to ruin…” Gregory cut him off with a searing kiss.
“This changes nothing except for the better,” Gregory whispered against his lips, peppering his words with soft kisses.
“You can’t know that,” Mycroft protested. “No one can know that.”
“I do. I know that this, that we, will only get better from here. Do you know how I know that?”
Mycroft shook his head mutely.
Gregory smiled a truly heart shattering smile. Mycroft felt his breath and his heart stutter in his chest. “I know because I love you,” Gregory said, cupping one hand to Mycroft’s cheek. “And because you love me, I know it.”
Mycroft’s face crumpled under the force of his emotions which threatened to send him soaring and to drown him simultaneously. Gregory, sensing his distress, eased him down onto the bed and held him tightly, whispering nonsense into his hair as he smoothed a hand down Mycroft’s back. When the tremors eased, Gregory pulled back slightly to kiss Mycroft’s forehead and held his lips there for a long moment.
“No one outside my family has ever said that to me,” Mycroft confessed after a moment, pushing his face against Gregory’s chest.
“I’ll tell you every day,” Gregory vowed. “You deserve to hear it every day, and to know every moment that I do.”
They held each other for a long time before Mycroft leaned down and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to Gregory’s lips.
“Gregory?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you?”
Gregory’s response was a fiery kiss that stole Mycroft’s breath and sent his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Gregory could feel it through his open shirt.
After, their hearts thundering and their skin slick with sweat, Gregory pulled Mycroft close, slipping out and feeling the cool slick of his semen trickle down Mycroft’s thigh. “We should get you cleaned up,” he said, sliding one finger through the mess.
“Mmmm, in a moment,” Mycroft said, lacing his fingers through Gregory’s and pulling his hand up to press a kiss to his palm.
“Lazy sod,” Gregory breathed as he stood, reluctantly pulling his hand free. Mycroft pouted at him and Gregory rolled his eyes, striding into the bathroom to wet a flannel. He cleaned himself off with quick, practiced strokes, and returned to the bedroom, gently wiping the warm flannel over Mycroft’s body before sliding back under the duvet.
Mycroft immediately turned onto his side and slid down just a bit so he could rest his head over Gregory’s heart, listening to its steady beat. They settled into a quiet near-doze when Mycroft abruptly said, “Move in with me.”
Greg caught his breath and held it. Mycroft froze and stiffened in his arms, waiting for rejection even after all that they’d shared that night.
“Hey,” Greg nudged at him until Mycroft reluctantly met his eyes. He grinned and said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, that’s a yes, you sod.”
Mycroft surged up to meet Gregory and their mouths crashed together.
“Thank you,” Mycroft breathed when they parted, gasping.
Gregory’s expression was tender. “No,” he murmured softly, “Thank you.”
Mycroft heard the years of loneliness, of heartache and loss and rejection in those words and held Gregory tightly, counting his heartbeats until he fell asleep.
part viii
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Date: 2012-03-20 03:01 am (UTC)♥