Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Sherlock Holmes.

Note: this story takes place after during and after 'The Hounds of Baskerville'

Warnings: Slash, Dub/Non-con, Incest, Lemon

AN: This is my first slash story so sorry if it's really bad. Any reviews would be appropriated.

P.S. If you don't like slash, then no one is stopping you from hitting the back button.

"Hello brother dear, how are you?"

Mycroft smiled at Sherlock's choice of words. The only times Sherlock used affectionate words towards him was when he was desperate, and Sherlock was the most fun when desperate. "Ah, Sherlock, I was wondering when I would be hearing from you. How was your little trip to Baskerville? See any aliens?"

"Not yet, but I'm hopeful that I will find them this time."

"This time?" So, he needed to go back, this could work out very well for Mycroft. "How exactly do you plan on sneaking your way in? I have made sure that the security card you took from me will not work a second time."

"No matter, I wouldn't have used it a second time anyways. I need more then the twenty three minutes that it provided me."

"Oh? How much time do you need then?" Anything less then six hours and Mycroft would not be able to fully... Enjoy the price.

"Twenty four hours."

Excellent, that would get him much more then last time. It had been such a shame to loss all the time he could have gotten for the Irene Adler mess, but then, British security did come before his own pleasure... barely. "And how will you get those?"

"I am trying to catch a murderer Mycroft." Ah, attempting to play on his hate for law breakers, too bad Sherlock had learned to manipulate people from watching him. "They got away with it for years, and now I am this close to catching them, I just need twenty four hours in Baskerville to prove it."

"And what do I get Sherlock? You can't expect me to just let you poke around in one of the country's most secure bases for nothing, can you?"

"I will consult on any case-"

"No no, Sherlock, I would be doing you a personal favor, that means that your return favor must also be personal. You understand me?"

There was a pause, and for a moment, Mycroft thought that he would hang up, but then an emotionless voice answered, "when and where?"

Sweet, sweet victory, Sherlock never could stop an investigation once he started. Mycroft had always been thankful for this, it made it so much easier to get Sherlock to do what he wanted. "Next Saturday, five o'clock at the same motel as last time. You will stay until I am bored of you."

A moment of silence, before, "... Agreed."

"Then, you have your twenty four hours." And while He was looking for a giant hound, Mycroft would be preparing for Saturday, after all, it wasn't often that he got more then an hour or two. Have Sherlock there, under his power, for as long as he wanted would be exhilarating, even if, as always, Sherlock avoided him afterwards. "I suggest you use them well, as the Major does not strike me as someone who enjoys politics."

"Excellent. Good bye."

He couldn't help but rub in the power that he now had over Sherlock, "I think you forgot something."

"...Of course... Thank. You. Mycroft." The line went dead as soon as these words passed the lips of the consulting detective, but Mycroft didn't mind. He had plans to make.

Sherlock sat on the bench outside of the motel Mycroft had picked and checked his watch 4:57, still three minutes until their... meeting. He always thought of them as such in his head, not wish to admit even to himself what his brother forced him to do. It had started back when he was in high school. He had been bored and had decided that he wanted to find out if he would hack into confidential military files. He had managed it but they had traced him. He had been arrested, and when they were unable to reach either of his parents, they had called Mycroft, who was at this point already the British government. When Mycroft had told him what he would have to do for him in return for getting him out he had almost told him to go to hell, but as much as he didn't want to become his older brother's fuck toy, he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in prison more. After that, when ever Sherlock needed Mycroft's help, the price was always the same.

At 4:59 Sherlock stood up and walked into the motel. He ignored the man at the front desk, he had no need to speak to anyone for, no matter what motel Mycroft decided on, the room number was always the same, 17. The age Sherlock had been the first time. He kept his head down as he walked towards the room. While there was only a few people in the hallway he did not want to risk being recognized. He knocked on the door of room 17 and Mycroft's voice answered, "come in." He entered and closed the door behind him. Mycroft was sitting on a chair facing the door completely naked, "ah Sherlock, right on time. I believe you remember what to do."

Sherlock kept his eyes on the wall behind Mycroft as he slowly began to remove his clothes. Once his clothes were all off he got down onto his knees and crawled towards Mycroft. When he was right in front of him he stopped and asked, "what do you wish of me Master?" He hated calling him that, but really, he was in no position to argue with Mycroft.

Mycroft smirked down at him, "why don't we see if you've gotten any better at using that mouth of yours."

Sherlock bowed his head, "yes Master." He took Mycroft's cock in his hands and began licking it up and down before slowly starting to suck on the head. Mycroft moaned as Sherlock took more and more of his cock until all of it was in his mouth. Sherlock paused for a moment before pulling back so that just the head was in then moving to take it all again. He continued doing this slowly for a few minutes. Mycroft growled and reached down, threading his hands into Sherlock's hair and proceeded to fuck his mouth. Sherlock moved his hands the the legs of the chair to brace himself and let Mycroft do as he pleased. It was easier when Mycroft took control, when he didn't have to propitiate. Mycroft continued forcing his head back and forth, going faster and faster until he was about to reach his climax.

"Look at me," he demanded, the words barely coming out between deep, heavy breaths. Sherlock forced his eyes up, and Mycroft came as soon as their eyes meet. Sherlock swallowed the cum that shot into his mouth, and licked Mycroft clean once he was done coming. When Mycroft let go of his hair Sherlock pulled off him and tried to catch his breath. Mycroft however seemed to have no trouble recovering. "Up on the bed. On your hands and knees."

Mycroft didn't bother preparing him, he just thrust straight in. Sherlock clenched his fists around the sheets on the bed to stop himself from yelling out. Even after all these years it still hurt. Mycroft relentlessly drove into him over and over again. He leaned over so that his mouth was at Sherlock's ear. "Beg me to fuck you harder," he demanded.

Sherlock closed his eye's tightly, if there was one thing worse then calling Mycroft Master, it was begging him, but he had agreed to do this, "please, Master, fuck me harder."

"More."

Sherlock felt like vomiting, but complied. "Please Master, fuck me as hard as you can. Make it so that I won't be able to walk ever again when you're done with me." Mycroft started going faster, putting as much force behind every thrust as he could. It seemed to take forever, but Mycroft finally came, shooting his load deep into Sherlock. But even as Mycroft collapsed on top of him, Sherlock know that tonight was far from over.