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I’ve been wanting to write something like this since I noticed Mycroft’s office has a full length mirror.

Through the Glass – Mycroft through the eyes of his lover. Or, office sex in front of the mirror.

teaser below the cut

Adjusting his tie, Mycroft watched as Greg came into the office.  He openly admired the reflection in the mirror until Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned to face him. “Really, Gregory?”

Greg smiled and stepped to him. “I can’t admire the view?”

Mycroft shook his head and started to turn away. Greg caught his chin and kissed him. “You are a good looking man, you know. I’m here for a few reasons.”

“You’re here because I asked you to meet me before dinner,” Mycroft looked away as if not trusting himself to meet Greg’s eyes.

“You daft git,” smiled Greg, turning him back around towards the mirror and running his hands down his chest. Mycroft shivered, watching Greg’s hands. Unbuttoning the suit coat he carefully took it off his shoulders and lay it across the back of a chair. “You always look amazing,” said Greg softly, leaning up to kiss his barely exposed neck. His fingers found the buttons of the waistcoat, watching Mycroft’s face.

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Yes, I’m following you because of possible Mystrade mirror sex. I have so much to catch up on it seems. Oh, hello, you. ^.^

Hello! And welcome to my little corner of tumblr!

Working on it now, actually. If you’d like to read my other Mystrade stuff, I write under janto321 and the mystrade is here.

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This is so gonna be a pwp:

Adjusting his tie, Mycroft watched as Greg came into the office.  He openly admired the reflection in the mirror until Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned to face him. “Really, Gregory?”

Greg smiled and stepped to him. “I can’t admire the view?”

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I needed to write something about yesterday’s episode, so here’s a short something:

Affrimation –  When Sherlock comes home from the hospital he finds John moved back in and ready to claim what is his.

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John was sitting at the table eating lunch when Sherlock came into the flat.  “Get a proper discharge this time?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop.

Sherlock waved some papers. “As good as can be expected.” He came and sat down across from John. He could feel the man deducting as he looked him over. He’d know John had moved back in, hadn’t been sleeping well, hadn’t spoken to Mary, but was still wearing the ring and keeping up appearances. Chewing his food, he met Sherlock’s eyes and took the ring off his finger, setting it on the table between them.

Reaching over, Sherlock took John’s hand, studying his eyes. Putting down his fork, John brought Sherlock’s hand to his mouth, lips just brushing the back of his hand. He visibly shivered at the touch.

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I finally got another fic done this week. Somewhat s3 related if that’s a concern.

Empty Spaces – John hurries to Sherlock’s side to pick up the pieces.

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John hurried up the steps of 221B, heart heavy and fear chasing his steps. Pushing open the door he found Sherlock on the couch, curled up on his side. The syringe lay on the coffee table.

“Sherlock.” John’s voice was calm, even though he wanted to scream at the man. He found his pulse, high, but probably not an overdose. His body was hot to the touch, breath shallow.

First things first. John ran the bath, water lukewarm but not too cold. He pushed up his sleeves, got his arms underneath and lifted the lanky detective. He whimpered as he was moved. John got the robe off, but didn’t bother with the rest of his clothes as he slid him into the bath.

Sherlock’s eyes flew opened with a gasp. “I can tell you nothing!” he cried, struggling against John’s grip.

“You’re not there,” said John through gritted teeth. “You’re home, you’re safe.”

Slowly Sherlock stopped struggling as his eyes focused. “John?”

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I said I wasn’t going to write any s3 Sherlock until the season was over, but well, I had to write a post-wedding mystrade smut ficlet:

After the Wedding – After John’s wedding, Greg got dropped off at Mycroft’s.

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Greg knew better than to drive home. Sally had offered to take him home when she’d picked up the photographer, but he’d refused, wanting to at least stay for some of the reception. In the end though, he only stayed for about half, pulling out his phone to call a cab when he saw a dark car pull up in front of him. Shaking his head he ducked down, saw Anthea and got inside.

“You know, John wouldn’t have minded if you’d shown up,” he said as he came into the house and took off his coat.

Mycroft was in pyjamas, housecoat and slippers. Greg looked him up and down, then leaned in and kissed him sloppily until Mycroft detangled himself and stepped back. “You’re drunk,” he sniffed.

“Leave it to John Watson to have an open bar. Come on,” he reached back and pinched Mycroft’s arse.

“Gregory!” Mycroft put a hand on his chest.

Greg leaned back and smiled. “What? You had your car drop me off here just so you can take incriminating photographs?”

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I was having feels after tonights episode, so here’s a mostly unrelated, slightly angsty first time fic:

Black Wool Coat – John watches Sherlock and the way he uses his coat as a shield. Perhaps it’s time he let someone in.

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John watched Sherlock Holmes. And, despite Sherlock’s pithy statements, he did observe. He saw the way Sherlock held himself apart. The way he didn’t touch the living, the way he turned up his collar. How he dismissed most people out of hand.

When they went out for a case, when Sherlock went to face the world, he put on his scarf and he put on his coat. Ah the coat. It held a few important tools, but it also kept more than the chill at bay. All mysterious with his cheekbones indeed.

They were home now, coming up the stairs to the flat, Sherlock’s elegant hands pulling the scarf loose from his neck. He started for the buttons on his coat, but John grabbed his hand instead. Sherlock’s watched him. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have been doing for the last four months.” He took the coat in both hands and pulled him down for a kiss, trying to hold himself back.

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