Chapter 1: Prefall
Chapter Text
When Jim had first laid eyes on Mycroft ‘The Iceman’ Holmes himself, he had been disappointed. A soft pudgy man with a soft spot for his brother was supposed to run the entire Government? This man was the one constantly outwitting and ruining his carefully laid out plans? Jim thinks that he had laughed after his henchmen (goons maybe, Jim wasn’t entirely sure what to name them) had shown him the blurry photographs of the man sneaking a slice of cake in the park. This man was supposedly a genius, but he seemed to embody the clueless boss character of an American sitcom.
What Jim hadn’t counted on was the concealed ruthless nature that Mycroft applies to all aspects of his life, political and personal. The efficient way he bargained, traded and manipulated to get his way and he always got his way. There were a few rare anomalies that the Iceman couldn’t control, one being Jim himself and the other Sherlock Holmes.
After Jim’s first encounter with the man, the only thing he could say he admired about the man was his aesthetic. The dark drama of the suits, the man’s acerbic manner, the draconian wit and the way he managed to convince you just by being in his presence that he was above you.
‘God, Jim would love that man above him… No boner, now is not the time to fantasize about the enemy, even if he is walking sex in a form fitting suit.’ Jim shook himself out of it.
No. After the first encounter Jim wouldn’t have thought twice about the man but it was the second in which Jim fell and he fell hard.
Chapter Text
Jim struggled not to laugh at the man’s thinly veiled threats, the abandoned warehouse setting was not helping.
“Not to repeat an old joke but seriously, you’re almost a bond villain. I mean what’s next, that umbrella of yours has a secret gun. No, actually I think a sword would be rather fitting instead…” Jim trailed off looking at the slight blush that dusted Mycroft’s cheeks. Jim glances back down at the umbrella. Mycroft blush blooms further across his face.
Jim glances back at Mycroft and is torn between bursting into peels of laughter at being correct or admiring the deep red that had reached from the tips of his ears and trailing down his neck. His pale vampiric neck that Jim had willed himself to not think about late at night under the covers. In the end Jim settled for saying nothing at all.
There’s an awkward pause as Mycroft struggled to recover his dignity and Jim tried to pry his eyes off the very enticing features of the man in front of him. Mycroft is the one to break the silence.
“Mr. Moriarty, I must insist we settle the matter of the Russians immediately to ensure the best outcome for the both of us.” Jim nods along, still not being able to string together a sentence.
‘Did he really have to insist on calling him Mr. Moriarty? Does he not know what that does to me?’
“Excuse me.” Jim looks at Mycroft again, startled. ‘Oh fuck me, I said that aloud.’
That blush had ignited once again, quickly covering the man’s face. Jim felt his own blood rush but not to his face. ‘Well, I’ve myself a hold, why not bury myself too.’
“I said don’t you know what that does to me?” Jim purrs at Mycroft. He gestured at his very obvious erection, straining against his designer pants. Jim thinks it should be impossible for a human being to get redder.
“Very well then James, I shall avoid... that name, so we may continue on with the negotiations.” Mycroft stated, voice never wavering. Jim couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his face.
“Look darling you can call me whatever you want to. That’s not the problem. The problem happens to be your voice.”
“My voice?” Mycroft inquires, he carries his genuinely disinterested tone which seemed to not care about what Jim is about to say.
“Yes, your voice. It’s just too sexy for me to concentrate on anything at all.” Mycroft’s face doesn’t change, in fact despite the very physical reaction in his blush, his face has never changed beyond the distant, disapproving look he always held.
“Well, I’m afraid I cannot change my voice so you’ll just have to stay there with your affliction and suffer through it. Oh and what a shame it would be for you to have to sit through an hour, maybe two, of our negotiations.” Mycroft replied rather coolly.
And in that moment as Jim stifled his moan and sat through two and half hours of gruelling conversation with an erection, he fell hard for Mycroft Holmes.
Notes:
Out of character I know but most of the things and scenerios I write are. Thanks for reading.
Also feel free to correct any mistakes.
Chapter 3
Summary:
Sexy Phone call time, Jim falls some more.
Chapter Text
Mycroft has been ignoring him. Jim stares at himself in the full-length mirror of his bedroom, glaring at his stupid horny dick and its addiction with the enigma that was Mycroft Holmes. A sexy sexy enigma that plagued his fantasies. His dick twitches. He groans, putting his head in his hands. He can’t let him ignore him.
How rude. No one ignores Jim Moriarty no matter how good their ass looked in Armani suits. His hands moved of their own accord snagging his burner flip phone off the nightstand. If Mycroft wasn’t going to reach out himself, well he was just going to have to do something about that. He imagined the creased brow as Mycroft would read the text, the sharp calculating ice’s narrowing with concentration and the full lips pursing together. Those lips would look so good with a smattering of his… damn it!
He was hard again, throbbing painfully every second he neglected himself. He’ll deal with Mycroft later or that was the initial plan before his phone buzzed incessantly. His stomach knotted at the contact flashing up. Ice Ice Baby. Jim smirked.
Oh, this could be brilliant. He answered the phone.
“Mycroft darling! I’m so pleased to hear from you.” He purrs. His free hand reaches down to start stroking himself slowly. Mycroft sighs and Jim’s vivid imagination can’t help but picture a pleased sigh as Mycroft lowers himself onto Jim’s cock. He struggles to keep his moan in and barely catches the end of Mycroft’s sentence.
“…and expect me not to answer.” Jim’s hands involuntarily speed up at the stern tone. There’s a pause before Mycroft continues. “James? Are you listening to a word I’m saying? This is serious.”
“Daddy like when you scold him. Perhaps you can do it with a nice ruler over your desk sometime?” Mycroft pauses, the only signal to Jim that the blush he adores is spreading its crimson roots across the man’s freckled face.
Mycroft clears his throat. Jim’s strokes himself harder, the image of a flushed Mycroft bent over his own desk, taking it from behind. His legs as shaky as Jim’s are now. He leans forward bracing himself on the mirrors mahogany frame.
“Perhaps, Daddy should come see me to recommence negotiations. Maybe you’ll even get a reward at the end?” Mycroft taunts. As soon as the silky voice repeats ‘Daddy’ it pushes Jim over the edge, into the dangerous chasm of pleasure. He can’t control the needy whine that pushes itself out of his throat.
Mycroft has hung up by the time his brain clears of his post-orgasm haze. But a text puts a hopeful smile on Jim’s face.
That was naughty of you. I don’t think you’ll be getting that reward after all. - MH
Jim was falling harder and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Notes:
Thanks for reading. After many months here's the third chapter and now I shall disappear into the night until next year.