Sherlock paced the floor, obviously frustrated as he alternated clutching and pulling his hair with gesticulating in irritation at the flat in general. Anyone witnessing his current state of unrest and hearing the constant mumbling beneath his breath would assume he was disturbed. They would have been correct too, though the actual cause would have eluded the observer.

Everything had been going so well. Sherlock had felt almost normal this week; and he nearly had John, he knew it. All that was needed was a bit more time to work his wiles on his stubborn friend. However, time was no longer on his side. At this very moment, John was upstairs getting dressed before Mycroft swooped in and carried him off on some date; carried him away from 221B, leaving Sherlock alone again. He had been in a right state ever since John had told him about Mycroft's imminent return home at dinner the night before. He was so rattled, it had thrown off his game in attempted seduction, rendering last night nearly useless. Now he needed to do something decisive to win John over...to make him stay...but he couldn't seem to reach a rational conclusion as to what that could be.

John paused in the door to the sitting room, watching Sherlock's pointed pacing and trying to make sense of the low murmurings he could hear. He knew Sherlock had been upset when he informed him Mycroft would be home today, and he understood. It had been nice being together this week, almost what could have been between them if the Fall had never happened. A part of him regretted leaving this behind, but he had a life with Mycroft to get on with, regardless of what Sherlock wanted. John wished he knew how to make it easier for his friend to deal with, but the answers wouldn't come; Sherlock had only himself to blame for the way things were now. Not that John would point that out. Finally he stepped into the room, clearing his throat loudly to get Sherlock's attention; waiting would only delay the inevitable.

Sherlock spun around sharply at the sound, ready to spew decisive reason at John, only to have the words die in his throat when he saw the man before him. His adam's apple bobbed convulsively and his mouth suddenly felt dry as he stared. He had never seen John like this; this man belonged to no one. Sherlock for once wasn't certain what gave him that impression but he felt it just the same.

John narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, well accustomed to his assessing stares, but there was something else behind that look this time. It only took a moment for him to realize Sherlock had never seen him dressed for a night at the club, seen him intentionally dressed to be a Dom. Nothing he could do about that other than let Sherlock look his fill and be done. John widened his stance, standing military straight with his arms crossed over his chest. Head up, chin out, and eyes on the detective, he waited for a biting critique. An entirely inappropriate surge of arousal washed through him as he saw Sherlock's gaze rake over his form hungrily. It was the way he often felt when he faced a new sub, waiting for their decision to accept him or not, to play or not...to submit to him...for him. This only led his mind back to thoughts of Sherlock as his sub and his conversation with Mycroft. His cock throbbed sharply, literally twitching in his trousers at the thought; he had to inhale sharply through his nose and close his eyes as he attempted to shove those thoughts into the deepest, most isolated part of his mind. He was not about to lose his control now.

Sherlock had been frozen in place by the image John presented; having no idea why it affected him so. He had seen John dressed nicely to go out before. But not like this, an insistent voice in his head supplied. He let his gaze skim over John again, taking in every detail. His sandy ash blond hair was freshly trimmed with military precision, the barest bit of product in place to create a casually tousled look. He wore a royal blue, silken shirt, vivid against John's skin; the particular shade highlighting the color of the doctor's own eyes, the usual blue orbs deepened to a rich cornflower. The sleeves shifted and strained over his arms, emphasising the defined musculature there while the cuffs buttoned snuggly at the wrists; only the top two buttons were left open to reveal the strong column of John's collarless throat. Something about that made Sherlock take a quick shuddering breath before he continued. A sleek watch with a black leather band circled his right wrist snuggly, matching the black trousers fitted tightly to John's muscular thighs and over the smooth swell of his arse. At least Mycroft has introduced John to a proper tailor finally. The trousers were creased sharply down the front, leading the eye lower to the finely crafted black leather boots; not heavy clunky things like John often wore when they were running about on cases. These were elegant and refined with the smallest bit of a heel to aid the illusion of stature John created about himself.

Sherlock took it all in, an unknown hunger filling him; he knew he needed John...but this was something more, something deeper. John stood before him, his stance exuding power and command. He was jolted by a sudden flash of memory, suddenly recalling being brought to his knees by this man...not just his John. This was his Captain! He shuddered again and took an unconscious step forward as though drawn like a moth to a flame. He noticed when John took a sudden deep breath and closed his eyes, though otherwise he did not move at all. Sherlock trailed his piercing gaze over the image he was presented with once more, this time noting the indications of arousal. He was unable to stop the smirk on his face as he realized that all may not be as hopeless as he had originally thought. Of course that was the moment John chose to open his eyes.

The knowing smirk on Sherlock's face was the first thing John observed. The fact that the detective had drawn closer, was the second. He knew at once that Sherlock had noticed his response and thought he could capitalize on it. However, John had no intentions of allowing that to happen. He glanced at his watch and quickly broke the lingering tension between them. "Mycroft will be here with the car shortly, so I'll just head down to meet him. Rather eager to get to our date and some time together now that he is home." He ignored the look of disgust that clouded Sherlock's face and turned to retrieve his coat. He slipped on the charcoal grey wool, fitted closely to his body and breaking at the tops of his thighs, it completed his presentation of power perfectly. He ignored the still fuming detective as he began to fasten the row of buttons. Meant to keep out the cold, they also echoed his military past and emphasised his bearing; he had learned well from Mycroft, image and presentation were important components for a Dom. It was just as well, spring was in the air but London evenings still left one chilled to the bone without adequate protection. His gloves were in hand and he was ready to depart before he bothered to give Sherlock his attention again. While he meant to merely say goodnight, the detective had other plans.

Sherlock's smugness dissolved into confusion when John broke their connection so brusquely. He knew what he saw, John wanted him. So why was he buttoning up his coat, a perfectly sinful wool concoction that hugged his torso, emphasising his assets as it were, and reaching for his gloves. John was leaving, literally about to walk out the door, and Sherlock couldn't have it. There wasn't even a conscious plan in mind, but when John turned to speak, he practically threw himself at the man.

John didn't get the chance to speak, finding the tall body pressed against him and long arms wrapped around his shoulders in a desperate hug. He huffed out a laugh and put his arms around Sherlock, returning the hug lightly. But the lanky detective did not let go, instead he seemed to shrink himself until he was nuzzling against John's cheek and neck.

"Please don't go."

John tried to extricate himself but Sherlock only clung tighter.

"It's been so good having you with me. You make everything better. Please don't leave me alone again. I know you want to stay...this is where you've always belonged." Sherlock pressed his cheek to John's, letting his warm breath ghost over the other man's ear as he spoke low and seductive. "I know you want me, John. You can have me if you stay. We can do that...I can give you everything you ever wanted...everything you need."

John was briefly stymied by Sherlock's words, though not surprised. Mycroft and he had been expecting something like this to happen. However, the more the detective spoke the angrier John became. Angry that Sherlock thought he would just cave to his whims, that he could be manipulated so easily. He couldn't deny the truth of wanting the sinfully delicious creature in his arms, but the very idea that Sherlock thought he would betray Mycroft so readily was the final insult. Sherlock had no knowledge of the man John had become, neither what he wanted or needed at this point in his life. He didn't know what he was dealing with now. With a growl in his throat, John grasped the thin waist and shoved Sherlock away from his chest, his fiery gaze reflecting his displeasure.

Sherlock clung tightly to John's shoulders and did not go far when John tried to push him away. He saw the anger in those clear blue eyes but misunderstood the cause, thinking John was merely angry at himself for his desires. Then he felt as much as saw the word 'No' forming on John's lips, the word he could not bear to hear. He lunged forward to silence John before the word could escape. His hands cupping John's face as he brought their mouths together in a desperate, sloppy, inexperienced kiss.

As it turned out, John was ill prepared for such blatant actions from Sherlock, freezing in shock until a more primal reaction took over. He had taken control of the kiss before he even realized he had acted. One hand tangled into dark curls and held tightly, angling the willing head in order to claim the moist warm mouth more fully. His other hand pulled the detective tightly against him, rubbing possessively up the long back then back down until he cupped one lush cheek in his palm, humming in feral pleasure as he ground their rapidly filling erections together. He smiled against those full lips at the needy whine he heard from the man now at his mercy and reveled in the eager frantic rutting against him. It was only the uncertainty he could detect when Sherlock softly gasped his name before it was swallowed by another kiss that finally brought John back to some sense of reason.

He quickly spun the detective, pressing his back against the wall beside the door and breaking the kiss to look him over critically. Arousal was obvious; pupils dilated, lips slightly parted as Sherlock panted softly, and slim hips still rutting unconsciously seeking friction for the swollen cock tenting his trousers. But beneath the arousal there was more; inexperience, uncertainty, and the faintest trace of fear, all red flags to the Dom. John knew without a doubt that Sherlock trusted him implicitly and for once he could properly deduce the source of the fear he saw. Sherlock was not just afraid of him leaving, he seemed to be afraid of what he was doing...what was happening between them even as he obviously craved it on some subconscious level. John briefly considered what to do, as far as they knew Sherlock's knowledge of carnal pleasure was strictly theoretical; his practical knowledge represented a glaring gap in the vast scope of what the man knew. John was already angry at himself for being pushed into acting on his own desires, he would not exacerbate those feelings by adding guilt to the mix for pushing Sherlock any further. However, he now faced the challenge of ending this face off without damaging their friendship.

Sherlock hadn't moved or spoken since John put his back to the wall. He was still trying to process the overwhelming sensations and input he was receiving from his own body. He only meant to stop John from leaving but things had escalated and now he wasn't sure what was happening. He wanted more, wanted John to give it to him, but he wasn't exactly sure what 'it' was; he felt out of control and unsettled, a frisson of anxiety and panic playing at the edges of his consciousness. He inhaled deeply, seeking some stability, fully aware that John was watching...assessing as only a doctor could. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, waiting for John. If anything, he was fully aware that John was in control now and not him; he was beginning to doubt he was ever in control of the situation to start with. The gruff sound of a clearing throat prompted him to open his eyes and meet John's gaze.

John let his gaze roam over Sherlock's body in a way that made the detective tremble with want until the doctor reached out one hand and traced a finger over his prominent erection, causing him to hiss softly. "Rather impressive considering the rest of you, Sherlock." John reached the tip, letting his finger rub a gentle circle over the head before he removed his slight touch. "I suppose you would like something done about that, hmm? Like for me to do something about it?"

Sherlock swallowed thickly and forced his voice to work, nodding his head to emphasise his words. "Yes, please. Only you." Despite the appalling need he could hear in his own words, Sherlock continued, "Anything for you, John. You can have anything you want from me, do anything you want...if you'll only stay." He couldn't control the abject pleading nor the thrust of his hips as he tried to bring himself into contact with John once again, the need to be closer nearly overriding any other thought or emotion.

John silently fumed over Sherlock's complete lack of guile and utter cluelessness, fighting the urge to punch the wall just beside the detective's head. Sighing heavily, he pushed himself away from the temptation before him, taking a large step back to put some distance between them. "That's not how it works, Sherlock. You don't even understand what you are asking for," those cupid's-bow lips opened to protest and John silenced them with an upheld hand, "even if your body clearly wants it. This is not something you can understand in here," John reached out and gently touched Sherlock's forehead.

"You have to understand in here," his finger drifted down until it pressed over the thrum of the detective's heart. "Sex, making love...it's...well...it is not just mutual desire. It is giving and taking equally, giving and receiving pleasure to and for each other, trusting your partner to care for you when you shatter apart. At times surrendering control to the other person but never, never sacrificing what you are not equipped to give in order to achieve a goal. Doing something like that damages the soul, Sherlock. And frankly, I'm afraid you've done far too much of that to survive already."

John glared sharply at the pale detective to make his feelings in the matter quite clear. "I am your friend and your doctor; I am committed to helping you heal from all you have been through. And yes, by god, I want you!" His hands clenched convulsively into fists at his side to prevent any rash movements. He stared at the wall behind Sherlock, collecting himself before he could meet Sherlock's gaze once more. "For me to take advantage of your offer would be wrong, you can understand the implications and consequences, I would never be the cause of more harm." He reached down to collect his gloves, dropped in the flurry of their earlier actions before then glanced at his watch again. "Now I really have to be going. I trust you will keep yourself out of trouble tonight and I will check in on you tomorrow." When he looked expectantly at his friend, a single nod was all the reply he was given, the barest inclination of the dark head. John returned the nod sharply, "Goodnight then, Sherlock."

And then he was gone, leaving an aroused and confused detective behind still trying to unravel what had just happened.

{*} {*} {*}

It didn't take a genius to figure out something had John a bit unsettled, nor was it hard to deduce whom that something might be. Not that Mycroft was going to argue when his fiance promptly straddled his lap once he was in the car, kissing and grinding against him with unrestrained passion. He let John vent himself in this way without pushing him further, only managing to speak once his soldier had calmed, breaking the heated kiss and sitting back on his lap. "Well Hello! I missed you too." He smiled sardonically, quirking an amused eyebrow at his lover. "I did expect that you would be in charge tonight but should we return home instead of proceeding to the club?"

John smirked in return, "That's funny...really, coming from the man who put me in this situation in the first place. I should take you home and make you pay for the torment I have suffered." He sighed pointedly, "But I have been looking forward to the club, and some time alone with you." With a gentle parting kiss, he slid from Mycroft's lap and into his normal seat before reaching forward to tap on the divider. "We can go now Clarence." No reply was needed for the next moment the sedan merged smoothly into traffic. Clarence didn't bother with what his employer and his partner did in the backseat but he was a stickler for safety and preferred not to move until his charges were safely restrained.

Mycroft smiled, reaching over to clasp John's hands in his own. "Little brother got to be a bit much? Or did he work up the courage to act on his feelings?"

John actually looked surprised, "What? You weren't watching?"

Mycroft brow furrowed a bit and he shook his head slightly, "No. I was occupied with a last minute overseas call just before I arrived."

"Well then, the answers are, yes, and yes." John ran one hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sorry My...I don't think I behaved very honorably with him. He thinks I can snap my fingers and make everything be the way he wants and it simply won't work. I don't think he understands that still, but I gave him plenty to think about before I left."

Mycroft smiled softly and gave John's hand a gentle squeeze. "As always, I am certain you did what you thought was best in the situation. For now, I think you should put Sherlock out of your mind and focus on your own needs for tonight. You have been taking care of my brother for weeks now. I would say that now you are the one in need of care and I intend to see that you get that tonight." He leaned over to bestow his own kiss on his beleaguered fiance.

John sighed happily, even if he was going to act as Dom tonight, he knew he could rely on Mycroft to still be taking care of him. They spent the rest of the ride to the club discussing Mycroft's trip, John's work, anything but Sherlock and 221B Baker Street.

{*} {*} {*}

In no time they were emerging from the sedan in front of the private entrance to the most exclusive club in London, catering to those interested in less standard pursuits in their sex play. It didn't even have a name; candidates had to be referred by a member in good standing and once approved, members were given a card with only the physical address of the place. All members merely referred to it as The Club, appreciating the privacy and anonymity their money bought.

Mycroft dismissed Clarence for the night. Never knowing how long they might be there, he would simply summon one of his government drivers when they were ready to go home; assuming they didn't just stay in their private suite at the club. They were shown directly to the owner as soon as they arrived.

Geoffrey St. James was not what you might expect in the owner of a sex club. Tall and broad with piercing eyes, he could easily strike fear into any guest guilty of misconduct. However, Mycroft knew for a fact that the man was a confirmed sub in a committed relationship with an international financier. That being the case, he was the epitome of absolute discretion. He greeted them both with a reserved yet cordial smile, eying their gloved hands before he offered his own in greeting. John could not imagine how the man functioned as a sub when he was a chronic and severe germaphobe. Geoffrey would not shake any uncovered hand, and any physical contact beyond a gloved handshake was strictly forbidden unless you wished to instantly lose your membership. All in all, Geoffrey was a man of most interesting contradictions. The thought that Sherlock would love to spend some time observing him crossed John's mind before he once more forced the detective from his thoughts for the night.

"Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson. It is good to see you both again, it has been far too long since we've enjoyed your patronage. I have your area prepared and some of your favorites have been made available. Do you have any particulars in mind for the evening?" He glanced meaningfully between the two until Mycroft spoke up.

"Tonight shall be for Dr. Watson's pleasure, Geoffrey. Whatever he desires." Their host nodded, turning his attention to John.

John tilted his head in thought for a moment considering. "Nothing out of the ordinary tonight, I don't believe Geoffrey. A light meal and a bit of play will be fine if you would like to show us whom you have selected." There was a glance towards Mycroft that John could not decipher, before the host nodded and motioned them forward. Escorting them to a sort of waiting or holding area just beyond the dressing rooms but before you entered the club proper, their host stepped back and waited for John to make his choice.

There were three men, all collared and barefooted, dressed in black silk robes with their eyes lowered in submission, stepping forward eagerly at Geoffrey's sharp snap. John eyed each of them in turn, recognizing them all as subs he had played with before at The Club. That certainly made the negotiations easier and allowed the play to go more smoothly as they both knew what to expect from the other. It was one of the advantages of the club; management kept records of who played with whom regularly to facilitate better experiences overall.

John's eye was repeatedly drawn to the lean figure of one of the men but he still took his time looking them over one by one. He stepped up to the nearest man, motioning at the robe, Captain Watson's voice commanding firmly. "Open. Present." The blond quickly complied, untying his robe and spreading it open to display himself fully for the Dom's perusal. While pleasing, he was not quite what John wanted tonight. He motioned for the man to cover himself as he moved on to the next in line. He repeated the same order and made the same careful study, still not satisfied. Dismissing the second sub, he at last stood before the man who had first caught his interest. Tall and slim, with pale skin and a throat he could nearly span with one hand, John felt the interested twitch from his cock as he stood in front of the patient sub.

Evan was his name, a model and actor by trade who loved losing himself in service to a Dom regularly. He said it kept him relaxed in a stressful and demanding career. It also led to occasional changes in Evan's appearance, depending on the job he was doing. John had seen him as a wavy blond, a straight brunet, and a spiky ginger so far. Regardless of appearance, all their play together before had been highly satisfying for both Dom and sub. Still, tonight's change seemed to be stirring John far more than any other guise. Tonight Evan's thick hair was grown out a bit, dyed a velvety blue-black and styled into a riot of curls on his head. John tried hard not to acknowledge the resemblance to Sherlock as he ordered the sub to open his robe. The last thing he needed on his mind when he played was Sherlock bloody Holmes. Black silk parted over pale flesh and dusky nipples stood erect, already aroused from the silk and his attention. John eyed him from the slim throat down to the black Armani briefs that fit low on the narrow hips and held an already hardening cock snugly in check. Evan appeared quite eager and excited to play tonight.

"Drop the robe." John ordered, then watched as the silk slithered off the sub's shoulders and pooled on the floor. "Turn." The young man quickly turned, offering John a view of his long lean back. John reached up to grip the long neck briefly before trailing his hand down the expanse of pale skin to the swell of cotton clad arse. He used both hands to caress and cup the cheeks that filled his palms generously, gripping each firmly before releasing the sub and stepping back. "Turn." The sub did as commanded and awaited his next order. John simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a coil of leather, stretching it out before reaching up to clip the end to the ring in the front of Evan's collar. "Follow." John turned, clearly in charge now, ignoring the other men and walking out of the holding area towards their private lounge, leading the young man now clad in only pants and his collar.

John did not see Geoffrey slip a fifty pound note into Mycroft's gloved palm. "You were correct as always, Mister Holmes."

Mycroft slipped the note into his pocket with a sly smile, "Indeed, Geoffrey. One of these days you will learn not to gamble with me. I know my fiance's needs better than he does himself."

The host gave a tilt of his head to acknowledge the truth of the statement. "You are very good to Doctor Watson, one of our most beneficial partnerships I believe."

Mycroft's gaze turned thoughtful, trailing after his fiance. "I shall always take care of John, just as I shall always give him exactly what he needs; no matter what it may entail." With a slight bow to Geoffrey, he turned and followed in John's wake, content to observe and assist as John desired.

At least for this portion of the night.

{*} {*} {*}

Sherlock couldn't bring himself to move as he listened to the sounds of John's retreating footsteps, punctuated by the soft click of the door opening and closing behind him. He didn't understand what had just happened. All the signs were there, John wanted him just as much as he wanted the diminutive blond. Yet John had refused him. Was Mycroft's hold on him truly so strong? He tried to dissect what John had told him but still failed to comprehend. He understood the mechanics of sex, how could sex with John cause him harm? He was willingly offering...but John said no. Apparently he needed much more data.

It was as he reached this conclusion that his subconscious thought processes caught up with his conscious, informing him that he never heard the car pull away from the flat. That knowledge finally prompted him to move. Stepping to the window he glanced down to see Mycroft's car still parked at the curb. It appeared opportunity was in his favor; he was still rather painfully aroused but he found he was able to dismiss the sensation in lieu of action. He knew they were going out, going somewhere quite different than a fancy restaurant judging by John's clothing and manner. Knowing he would never make any headway with John without knowledge, he soon had his coat in hand as he raced down the stairs determined to follow the two men. He had followed John plenty of times before, Mycroft too for that matter; though he usually just did that for practice as he was more of a challenge to keep track of. He had to hone his skills somewhere.

Sherlock stopped at the door, listening until he heard the car pulling away. He was out of the door and hailing a taxi before Mycroft's car had even reached the end of the street. Pointing the vehicle out to the taxi driver, he offered triple the fare if they could keep up with the car until it reached its destination. The cabbie only blinked once before nodding and pulling out after the dark sedan. Sherlock sat back, keeping an eye on the sedan's route but smirking to himself; being able to deduce the cabbie's financial need worked well for his own. He would get to the bottom of this and claim John for his own.

{*} {*} {*}

Despite a few near misses and several scrapes through traffic lights, the cabbie did indeed keep John and Mycroft within view until the car turned out of sight next to what looked like a large manor in the heart of London. It took little effort for Sherlock to identify what must be private parking for a secluded entrance. What exactly the entrance was to, he could not say, but he quickly paid the cabbie his well earned bonus and made his way to the corner of the building. Through a break in the hedge, Sherlock could see John and Mycroft exit the car and enter a door set in the side of the building. Now certain of their destination, he had to determine the best way to follow.

He made a circuit of the building, finding no other obvious entrances, no name indicating the function of the establishment, and it was a place he had not been before. He leaned against the brick wall, considering the best course of action. He'd had plenty of time to hone these skills during his time away; he did not doubt he could find a way to access the building and locate John and Mycroft without detection. Mind made up, he straightened and turned smartly into the covered entrance, striding purposefully toward the door and the discreetly dressed steward. He had just plastered a smile on his face and opened his mouth to speak when he got the first of many surprises to come tonight.

"Mister Holmes! What an unexpected honor! I do not believe you have graced our establishment with your presence before but your membership has always been kept in the best of standings." Sherlock nearly took a step back in shock but managed to contain his reaction to merely widening his eyes for an instant before returning to his normal demeanor. "Your brother and Doctor Watson have already arrived for the evening, will you be joining them or exploring on your own?"

Sherlock gave that question a brief thought before replying. "I am not certain. As you say, it is my first time here. I may explore before I greet them, if that is acceptable?"

"Absolutely. Whatever you desire, Mister Holmes."

Sherlock thought he detected a tone of subtle amusement in the steward's voice but failed to deduce the cause. He merely waited while the steward punched a code into the small machine at his kiosk, receiving a slim piece of plastic in return.

"Here you are Mister Holmes. The card will allow you access to all public areas and may be used for any food or drink charges, not to mention other necessities as needed. Please go right in, Anne will attend you and see that you are acclimated properly. Please enjoy your evening and selections."

Sherlock accepted the black card, blank except for the street address across the lower left corner in gold text and a gold diamond in the upper right corner. The back of the card was just as empty, save the magnetic strip which carried whatever encoded information was needed. He was distracted trying to imagine what other necessities might be required here beyond food and drink, and wondered absently what the man meant by selections, but finally he remembered to thank the man as he tucked the card into his pocket and proceeded into the building.

Just inside he was met with the sight of a young woman dressed smartly, albeit rather provocatively he thought. She was sitting at a small desk with her ankles crossed primly but the slit up her narrow skirt and the plunging neckline of her blouse left little to the imagination. Sherlock supposed that must be the point, here to attract one of the wealthy patrons no doubt. She rose promptly and greeted him in a friendly but business-like manner.

"Mister Holmes, the younger, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. The club is at your disposal. Normally I would take you to meet Mister St. James, but he is with another client at the moment. Would you care to wait or go on in?"

Not wanting to risk losing track of his quarry, he answered promptly, "I believe I would like to go in. I've heard so much about the place from Mycroft, I am eager to see if any of it is true." Sherlock lied easily, flashing "Anne" his most congenial smile.

As usual he was quite convincing and the striking brunette gave him a real smile as she answered this time. "Very well." She turned towards the double doors at the end of the vestibule, gesturing as she gave him basic directions. "The parlor to the left is for dressing and the parlor to the right is used as our meet up or holding area depending on what is arranged. If you go straight through you will enter the club proper with the bar to your right. The central area is for socializing and negotiations. VIP lounges along the sides and upper tier are considered private unless you are invited in. Public scenes are arranged ahead of time for the main stage. The areas dedicated to particular forms of play are downstairs and personal suites are on the two upper floors."

Sherlock was a bit confused by her descriptions, but he would work out the details when she stopped talking and let him go in. The hostess had paused, turning to him with a knowing smile.

"Of course you are entitled to access to the same VIP lounge and personal suite as your brother as the membership is in both of your names, however, if you ever desire a private area for yourself you only need to speak to Mister St. James." Sherlock merely nodded in pseudo-understanding, still wondering why his brother had both of their names on a membership at a club he knew nothing about, but that seemed to be enough for the hostess who continued. "Well, I believe that does it. I do hope you enjoy your evening with us enough to motivate a return visit soon." She had moved to return to her desk and Sherlock had taken the first stride towards the double doors before she remembered something. "I'm sorry Mister Holmes. I almost forgot the most important thing." Sherlock raised an eyebrow in question. "When you meet Mister St. James, a gloved handshake is the only form of touch allowed. If you do not have gloves then simply nod respectfully and do not attempt to shake hands. It is our most stringent rule. To break it means immediate dismissal from the club."

Given his own aversion to anyone but John, and sometimes Mycroft, touching him, Sherlock did not see that this rule would be a problem. He smirked as he replied, "I'll be certain to keep that in mind." The hostess returned to her desk, confident she had completed her task admirably. Sherlock quickly pushed open the double doors before she could speak again. He had only taken a few steps forward, approaching the archways that led into the parlors, when he heard John's voice. He froze. Not just John's voice, he heard Captain Watson. Not wanting to be seen, he quickly ducked into the parlor to the left. It was mercifully empty at the moment and he absently catalogued the benches, lockers and suitcases stored around the room before he leaned against the wall and peered out of the narrow sliver he had left open instead of closing the door all the way.

In a few moments he was able to watch as John came out of the parlour across from him. While he had expected John and Mycroft, he could not have anticipated a stoic looking John leading a nearly naked man by a leash attached to a collar around his neck. Sherlock barely managed to stop himself from confronting John right then to ask what was going on, only the sight of Mycroft emerging from the parlour kept him in his hiding spot. He watched the interplay between Mycroft and the large man, noted the cash that was slipped to his brother and wondered what was wagered or sold to require the payment. Mycroft took his leave and followed after John while the other man headed out to the entrance, ostensibly to speak to the hostess.

Sherlock waited a full minute before escaping his post and making his way further into the club. So many questions filled his mind, yet the conflicting stimuli and input were making it impossible to deduce the situation accurately. Forced to curse and concede that his mind was still not back to normal, not remotely functioning at peak capacity; he still wanted answers. Oddly enough, however, a small part of him was excited by the uncertainty. He felt the same kind of adrenaline and stimulation he enjoyed when on a case, starting to build as he passed through the heavy velvet curtains just past the parlour entrances.

{*} {*} {*}

John had begun to relax as soon as they stepped through the club's doors. This had become the place he most closely associated with escaping from any of the stresses of day-to-day, second only to his home with Mycroft. He let his Captain's persona bleed forth as he selected a sub for the night, and the mantle of Dom settled fully when he clipped his lead to the collar at Evan's throat. Conversation was not required as he made his way to their lounge, the sub would follow as commanded, so John allowed his thoughts to turn to Mycroft and just what he thought he was up to now.

Oh, he might be a bit slower than his fiance but he also knew him better than anyone, even Anthea. He should have been suspicious when Mycroft said he would make the arrangements. There were never any arrangements to be made unless they had very special requests. John glanced back at the sub, dark head bowed and hands clasped behind his back, a habit of training. He couldn't help but wonder if Mycroft had anything to do with Evan's new job, or even if there was a job. Honestly, he knew he couldn't put it past Mycroft to have simply gotten the young actor to dye his hair and style it to look as much like Sherlock as possible.

John was unable to decide how he felt about the possibilities. Did Mycroft doubt him so much? Was this some test of his resolve not to let Sherlock come between them? Given his knowledge of Mycroft's self sacrificing nature when it came to his happiness, John suspected that it was more of an attempt to get him to face up to his own desires and admit that he wanted Sherlock. But Mycroft knew that already, so it had to be something more. Perhaps merely a challenge, to see how he might handle Sherlock as a sub.

But this was not Sherlock, despite the markedly similar appearance, this was Evan. A young man who enjoyed his submission, who was a bit too fond of John and tolerated Mycroft in order to play with the Dom he wanted. Scarily enough, when he thought of it like that, Evan sounded a bit like Sherlock too. Well, on a good day. The thought only made John more frustrated and did not help him stay in the proper frame of mind for tonight's play. He would need a few moments.

Entering the lounge, he led Evan to the small dais in the center of the area. "Pants off. Then kneel." The sub didn't hesitate to strip off his pants, folding them and setting them aside, unashamedly revealing his obvious arousal to the Dom before he quickly knelt in the center of the dais. John clipped the other end of the lead to a metal ring in the floor. He stepped back, watching as the sub straightened and spread his knees further, assuming a presentation pose without prompting. John nodded in appreciation, stepping forward to run his gloved fingers through the tousled curls. "That's a good boy. Now…" John gripped the boy's hair firmly and tilted his head back until their eyes met, "Safeword?" Despite their history, he would take nothing for granted and safewords sometimes changed.

Evan smiled briefly, then winked as he replied, "Bananas." John blinked in surprise then narrowed his gaze at the young man, noting the smile that wouldn't quite disappear and the mischievous glint in his eyes. Perhaps Mycroft had briefed him on Sherlock's behavior as well because Evan was normally quite obedient. Smiling softly, John kept his hold gentle as he moved to speak right next to Evan's ear. Once his face was hidden from Evan's gaze, he suddenly gripped the curls tightly and tugged, wiping the smirk from the young face as he pulled hard enough to nearly bend the young man backwards, only the tautness of the lead pulling at the leather collar keeping him upright. John growled softly in one ear, "Cheek, will get you punished good and proper. Now, once again, your safeword." He gave another sharp tug to emphasize his point and reveled in the sharp gasp. "And do not toy with me, pet. I should not be having to ask twice as it is."

Evan blinked once then quickly lowered his eyes, a soft whimper escaping as he became immediately penitent. "R-red, sir. My safeword is red."

John released him and stepped back again, satisfied with his answer; red was the word he had always used before. He gave a sharp nod as he spoke, "We will wait for Mister Holmes to join us. You will remain silent and in position until I address you. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." The reply was swift, then nothing further as the boy complied.

John turned his back, effectively ignoring, for the time being, the Sherlock look-alike he was to play with tonight. Be truthful John, you chose him to play with because he looks like Sherlock. He growled to himself as he tugged off his gloves one by one and threw them onto one of the small tables. Like he needed his conscience to chirp in even more tonight. He began to unbutton his jacket, taking in deep breaths through his nose in an effort to refocus his mind on what they were doing. He had a responsibility to Evan, as well as to himself, and that had to take precedence over any thoughts about the situation with Sherlock. By the time he shed his jacket and lay it over the back of the black leather chaise, his thoughts were entirely in the here and now. He was perusing their supply of toys, deciding how he wanted to proceed with the evening when Mycroft stepped into the lounge.

"I've taken care of our orders for food and drinks. They should arrive in fifteen to twenty minutes."

John smiled, "Thank you love. Why don't you go and relax while I get things ready. No need to be in much of a rush tonight is there?"

Mycroft gave him a brief kiss before replying. "Not at all. Tonight is for your enjoyment so take all the time you desire." Turning away from John and moving towards one of the leather wingback chairs, he eyed the kneeling sub, struck anew by the remarkable resemblance. Geoffrey was certainly a master at his chosen profession. Mycroft removed his own jacket and gloves leaving them beside John's, then took his seat, relaxing back into the chair with his legs crossed and his hands clasped over his knee. His gaze turned to John as he contemplated what he might choose to do tonight. The Captain was very different from himself as a Dom, but always a bit surprising and exciting to watch.

John smirked to himself as Mycroft walked off; tonight was certainly going to be fun. Selections made, John strode purposefully over to the waiting sub, leaving his supplies on the edge of the dais behind the sub's back. Standing in front of the young man with his legs shoulder width apart and his arms crossed over his chest to indicate his readiness, John waited; watching the subtle tension shifting through Evan's shoulders and body as the anticipation built.

"I believe I owe you a punishment. I refuse to tolerate cheek from a sub." Evan glanced up at his words but dropped his gaze without saying a word. "I prefer to handle this matter now, though should you be foolish enough to earn further punishment, I shall not hesitate to mete it out. Do you understand?"

Evan nodded his head as he replied, "Yes sir."

John walked around the sub until he stood behind him. Placing one hand squarely between the narrow shoulders, he pushed until Evan's head rested on the floor and his arse was in the air. He reached for his supplies, noting a clear sheen already obvious around the sub's arsehole as he snapped on a latex glove and grabbed a packet of lube. Spreading the cheeks suddenly with one hand, he trailed a gloved finger over the moist pucker before slapping the upturned arse sharply.

"Have you already been used tonight?"

Evan gasped at the sudden blow but answered quickly. "N-no sir."

A second blow stung the other cheek. "Don't lie to me!"

A soft whine sounded this time and the sub's cock twitched where it hung between his legs. "I'm not sir. I only prepared myself for you. There has been no one, only you."

John hmmed over that answer as he squirted some lube onto his fingers. He shoved two into the lubed arsehole to verify the sub's words; enjoying the needy moan as he worked them in and out quickly. He ignored the groan as he removed his fingers and began to lube up the toy now in his hand. "Excellent. We can proceed immediately then." Without further warning, he pushed the thick plug into the waiting hole as Evan groaned again. John worked the plug in and out a couple of times before settling it firmly in place and withdrawing. It was not overly large, just thick enough to stretch and burn a bit; John's goal being pleasurable torment rather than pain. Pulling off the glove as he stood, John disposed of it in the small rubbish bin before returning to the sub.

He had to admit, the sight of the sub alone made his cock begin to thicken in his trousers. An image of Sherlock in the same pose with his lush arse reddened by his hand, bowed and waiting for his use, arose unbidden in his mind; quickly superimposing itself over the real life image of Evan. John's cock throbbed sharply in desire before he could blink the fantasy away and focus on Evan. Swallowing thickly John marshalled control of his voice as he stepped in front of the sub once more.

"That should do nicely." John knelt to release the lead from it's hook in the floor, giving a tug as he spoke, "To your feet." Evan stood quickly; well accustomed to being plugged, the toy hardly slowed his obedience to the Dom. "Hands behind your back," John commanded as soon as the sub was on his feet. Leaving the lead hanging, John procured thick, black leather cuffs from their supplies and locked the wrists together, allowing the slim forearms to overlap slightly. John trailed his palms over pale shoulders and biceps, drifting down until he could grip the bound wrists firmly for a moment. Releasing the wrists, he moved to stand in front of the pale chest, brushing his fingers over the throat and collar, collarbone and pectorals, until he reached the taut nipples already eager for his attention. He rubbed them firmly with his thumbs before pinching sharply. His famous Captain Watson grin spreading across his face as the sub winced and panted softly, his cock pulsing with the increasing beat of his heart as his skin flushed pink, while John increased the pressure and tugged each nipple roughly. When they were reddened and standing stiff, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps. Pinching up each nipple in turn, he quickly clipped the clamps onto the areolas before stepping back to admire his handiwork.

John caught movement in his peripheral vision and glanced just enough to catch Mycroft shifting in his seat, attempting to discreetly adjust himself in his trousers. He couldn't stop his smirk then. Just as well his fiance would be participating in the punishment it seemed. Mycroft might have manipulated the situation tonight but John was perfectly capable of playing that game as well.

Looking back to Evan, he gave a slight tug on the chain hanging between the swollen nipples. "Walk." John turned and moved towards Mycroft, the sub following. When he stood in front of the staid looking official, John spoke again but addressed himself to his fiance. "Spread your legs love." Mycroft barely hid his surprise, then raised an eyebrow at John as he spread his legs slightly. "A bit more love, there isn't room." Mycroft glanced at the waiting sub then back at John before spreading his thighs further. John smiled and puckered his lips miming a kiss, "Thank you My. That should be perfect."

John tugged Evan forward and pointed to the floor between Mycroft's thighs. "Kneel." He continued to speak while the sub obeyed. "Since this is your punishment, you will not be allowed a cushion. Be a good boy and take your punishment well and you shall have it for the rest of the evening. Now you will suck Mister Holmes while I spank you. The plug and clamps will remain in place for the duration. The sooner Mister Holmes gets off, the sooner your punishment ends so do your best." John stepped away to retrieve the small leather paddle he left lying on the edge of the dais, then stepped back to the waiting pair.

Mycroft glanced up at John, someone was obviously in the mood for a bit of exhibitionism tonight as no effort had been made to draw the curtains to their area closed. Not that he was opposed, they merely didn't play publicly that often. The expression on his face clearly conveyed his message to John; his quirked smile, tilted head, and raised eyebrow unmistakable. Do not think this gets your own arse off the hook tonight.

John smiled, understanding perfectly as he nodded, his own expression clearly read by his lover also. I wouldn't hear of it.

Mycroft's gave a soft smile in return before his face grew serious, focusing on the sub. He unfastened his trousers, spreading his flies and pushing his pants down just enough to release his cock and bollocks. He was half hard from simply watching John and a few strokes of his hand had him at full mast. He lazily pulled a condom from the drawer of the table beside his chair and tore the wrapper open, preparing to roll it into place. He was surprised instead, when John took the condom from him. Both Mycroft and Evan watched with keen interest as John carefully removed the wrapper. Holding the latex cap by the edges between his fingertips, John leaned over Evan's shoulder and gingerly placed it on the very tip of Mycroft's shaft. He didn't bother to issue a command; meeting Evan's gaze, he nodded towards him then to the condom, indicating just what he wanted the sub to do. Being restrained, Evan had no other options but to use his mouth to roll the condom onto the waiting shaft. He moaned softly as he shifted forward to do just as his Dom desired. Resting both arms against the armrest, Mycroft sat back to enjoy the sub's ministrations. He looked back up, meeting John's gaze as the sub eagerly moved forward and lowered his mouth over Mycroft's thick cock. Evan had actually done this before, though Mister Holmes had rather a larger cock than the one he had done it on the last time. Undeterred and eager to please, he pursed his lips and pushed the condom down, using his tongue to help unfurl it as he went. He kept at it steadily until the condom reached its limit and he was unable to avoid gagging as the bulbous head pressed into the back of his throat and filled his mouth. He pulled off momentarily, sipping back the drool that spilled from his mouth and taking a deep breath before he moved over the shaft once more.

"Nicely done, pet! Very well done." John's fingers stroked through the tousled curls again as he praised the sub's skill. John was watching with avid interest as the sub put on the condom, seeing Mycroft flex and squeeze his buttocks in the chair and knowing he was quite pleased with the display as well as the corresponding sensations. He smiled, his interest only heightened as he watched Evan began to suck Mycroft, his cheeks flushed a light pink from his own arousal at the sight. He didn't often involve Mycroft in their play in this way, the dual stimulation of an obedient sub and an aroused lover nearly too much for one evening. But with the build up of frustrations he currently had, he was feeling more adventurous.

The subtle clearing of Mycroft's throat reminded him that he was neglecting his duties. He met the dilated gaze of his fiance, shrugging in chagrin before raising the leather paddle and bringing it down with a loud smack on Evan's upturned arse. A low groan sounded from the sub and vibrated around Mycroft's cock, the ginger closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the chair with a soft moan of pleasure. John took it all in and drew his hand back for another strike, his own cock throbbing in sympathy as their play continued.

{*} {*} {*}

Sherlock had a flicker of suspicion when he saw the dressing area and the collared man but he had discounted what he saw, unable to reconcile his John with the deductions he was making. Those doubts were rapidly dispelled when he stepped through the curtains. Though he had never frequented such a place for his own pleasure, he certainly had had numerous occasions to enter sex clubs for cases, even more so while he was away. The decor was a mixture of leather, velvet, and chrome, shades of black and red echoed everywhere. His eyes flickered around the large area, quickly taking in his surroundings. Nearly every form of fetish garb was represented on the patrons scattered around the sofas and cushions in the public area. A Shibari demonstration was underway on the mainstage, and various activities were visible both on the floor level and within the lounges that ringed three fifths of the room, though some had their curtains closed for privacy. The bar and stage took up the last sections, completing the circuit of the main room.

Near the bar he spotted Mycroft, speaking to a server of some kind. Sherlock ducked behind a large statue near the entrance and looked around once more, searching for John specifically. He spotted him finally in one of the lounges, the man now naked and kneeling at John's feet. He suffered an unreasonable urge to go yank the man away from John but he remained hidden and observed all he could. When he saw John grab the man's hair and pull his head up, there was a decided pulse of interest in his own nether regions. Even from across the expansive area, he could recognise Captain Watson. He could not see clearly when John walked away from the man who remained as he was, but his attention was diverted by Mycroft concluding his business and moving towards the lounge himself.

Sherlock waited until his brother entered the lounge with John before he slipped out of his hiding place and moved towards the bar. He ordered a drink, flashing his new card for the charge. Then in an effort to blend in better, he loosened his scarf and unbuttoned his coat as well as the top buttons of his shirt. He leaned against the bar nursing his drink and appearing to observe the room at large though his discreet focus remained on the lounge with John and Mycroft. He watched the Captain with the apparently submissive man, his own arousal growing with each new thing John did despite being interrupted every few minutes by another patron propositioning him. He had put each one off with the assertion that he was merely observing tonight though he did not know how long he could keep it up without his frustrations getting the better of him. It wouldn't do to cause a scene; not only would he get kicked out but John and Mycroft would notice. When John moved away from the center of the lounge and back towards where Mycroft sat, he could no longer see clearly. He was just moving to find a more advantageous viewing spot when a low voice stopped him.

"Mister Holmes." Sherlock turned to face the man he had seen with Mycroft earlier, it was not difficult to deduce that he was face to face with the proprietor. "Anne informed me that you were in the house tonight. It is an honour to finally meet you."

Sherlock had stuffed his gloves in his pockets when he ordered his drink, remembering Anne's warning he simply inclined his head in greeting. "Mister St. James, I presume."

The man smiled warmly, "Geoffrey, please. Your brother and Doctor Watson are two of our best patrons. I hope we may see more of you now that you have decided to darken our doors at last." Sherlock merely shrugged noncommittally but Geoffrey was undeterred. "You have disappointed many of our guests by denying them your company tonight. Everyone seems most eager to play with you." Geoffrey eyed Sherlock up and down, his gaze darting briefly up to the lounge holding Mycroft, John, and the specially requested sub. Two and two quickly making four in the man's head. "I can't say that I can blame them, Mister Holmes. You are certainly a breath of fresh air among the guests."

Sherlock smiled his best 'being a real person' smile as he replied. "But every new toy will rapidly lose its appeal with overuse. I'm sure you can understand me pacing myself."

Geoffrey acknowledged the truth of his statement with a nod. "Well, should you have any requests or find that you need anything, don't hesitate to call on me."

Sherlock gave a slight bow, "Certainly...Geoffrey." The tall man looked him over once more then nodded briefly in parting, moving on to oversee the rest of his guests. Sherlock waited just long enough to be certain he would not be stopped again and continued to move along the outer wall towards the short set of steps that accessed the upper tier.

{*} {*} {*}

It had only been a few minutes but John knew Mycroft was getting close. He was always on edge after these trips without him there for relief. That was one of the reasons he chose to include him tonight in this way.

John had also kept up a steady but irregular pattern of swats to Evan's arse, never consistent enough for the sub to anticipate the strikes. As a result, the sub moaned steadily around the cock in his mouth, rutting unconsciously back and forth seeking his own release, swollen prick swinging between his legs with the movements while his fingers clenched and released where the remained bound. John admired his handiwork, buttocks and upper thighs colored a beautiful rosy red. He knew the subs movements were also causing the nipple clamps to shift and pull as well, increasing the stimulus the sub was receiving. It was time to wrap up this part of their play before pleasure began to bleed over into pain.

John raised his eyes, enjoying the sight of Mycroft enjoying himself; head thrown back, eyes closed and fingers gripping the armrests tightly as he tried to hold out. A slight growl from the Captain prompted him to open his eyes. John smiled warmly, winked, and gave a nod down at the sub, indicating his desire to end the punishment. Mycroft gave a sharp nod and brought his hands to the dark head, gripping the curls tightly and beginning to fuck harshly up into the sub's mouth and throat.

Evan groaned loudly and his body actually relaxed, allowing himself to be used though he still did his best to lick and suck the thrusting cock.

John had to reach down the press against his own neglected erection, enjoying the sight before him and the wet sounds of slick movement and slurping. With that brief bit of relief, John brandished his leather paddle once more, now raining down short rapid blows to the upturned arse. He leaned forward, rubbing his free hand over the sensitive chest and clamped nipples as he spoke to Evan.

"You look exquisite like this you know? Utterly submitting to the use of others. You've done so well, pet. Taken your punishment beautifully. I am so very proud of you. Almost finished now...he's close. You can bear it a few more moments for me, can't you my beauty?" Evan grunted and managed to give a small nod around Mycroft's cock battering his throat. "Good. That's very good, pet." John glanced up at Mycroft and got a brief nod indicating his orgasm was close. The smacks continued to the reddened cheeks while John reached forward once more, deftly releasing the nipple clamps and letting them fall to the floor just before he gripped the sub's cock tightly at the base. Evan let out a loud whine as the blood rushed back into his abused flesh and any hope of his own relief was crushed. That was enough to push Mycroft over the edge, grunting softly and still thrusting his way through the aftershocks.

The blows immediately stopped and John began to rub his hand soothingly over the heated flesh while he still held firm on the sub's cock. "There now. All done. You've done so well. So very good for me tonight." Evan whimpered and tried to hold himself still, waiting for his arousal to subside. "I know, I know. It hurts a bit doesn't it, aches so bad. I'll make you feel better pet, I promise. But I never said you would be allowed to come yet...not from your punishment."

Mycroft finally released the sub's head and flopped back into his seat, catching his breath before gingerly removing the condom and disposing of it in the bin. He had just tucked himself in and refastened his trousers when a discreet knock sounded at the entrance to their lounge. It was merely a courtesy since those knocking could clearly see inside the space, willful blindness was practiced here unless you were invited in. John was already helping the sub to his feet and moving him over to the chaise to care for his aches and pains so Mycroft replied for them.

"You may enter."

Two servers entered with a small trolley carrying their food. Geoffrey saw no point in a regular restaurant as part of the club, instead the club served the best tapas you could find in the greater London area. Numerous small dishes awaited them, along with chilled bottles of water, juice and their drinks. Alcohol was not taken in excess when they played but they would each indulge in a scotch or a wine with their food. Once the cart was delivered the servers bowed out without a word. Mycroft passed a bottle of water with a straw to John, then he took his own glass of wine and waited for the other two.

John left the plug in place but released the cuffs before encouraging Evan to lie down on his stomach. He covered the young man with a soft blanket, moving it as needed while he tended his sub. His dual roles as a Dom and a doctor would not let him forego checking the boy over carefully, even though he knew without a doubt that Evan would have stopped him if he needed to. A quick check of shoulders, arms, and legs assured any stiffness was minimal. John offered the water when Mycroft passed it over, holding it to Evan's lips while he took a long drink.

"Thank you sir," he offered softly.

John combed his fingers through the dark curls and encouraged the man to lie back down while he finished his care. He pulled out a small tub of thick white cream. Evan hissed softly when John dabbed the cooling cream over his heated cheeks before beginning to massage it into his abused skin. The cold was a striking contrast to the heat in his arse and within moments the sub sighed in relief. When John had finished rubbing in all of the cream, he tucked the blanket around Evan snugly. He offered another drink of water and stroked the curls once more.

"Rest. When you feel ready, come and kneel on the cushion by my chair. We will have a bit to eat before we continue." Evan nodded and closed his eye while John returned to his chair, pausing long enough to give Mycroft a lingering kiss before taking his seat.

Mycroft watched John take a sip of his scotch before grabbing a braised sparerib off one of the small plates. "Well, that certainly was…"

"Satisfying?" John interrupted with a crooked smile.

"I was going to say different. But my appetite is, as you say, sated." John smirked, dropping the clean rib bone onto an empty plate before reaching for a bite of cheese with pear chutney. Mycroft narrowed his eyes on his smug fiance, remaining silent until the good doctor met his gaze again. "Sated for the time being, dear. Do not think I shall be done in so easily, it has been a very long week...for both of us."

John's smile only grew, "Never, love. I am well acquainted with your stamina and appetite after all." He sighed, glancing over briefly to check on Evan who dozed lightly. At least for now he was relaxed and content, his mind adequately diverted from the previous week.

"Feeling better I take it?"

The nod preceded the words, "Yes. Thank you, My. This really was exactly what I needed. I don't think we've been since before…" John bit off his words, cursing that he couldn't seem to get through one conversation, let alone an entire evening without Sherlock coming up. No matter how hard he tried.

Mycroft didn't bat an eye, picking right up where John left off. "Before Sherlock returned home. You are correct, we have not been in weeks now." He didn't push the topic, this evening was meant to be a distraction. Well, as far as John knew, it was. They were both spared dwelling on the topic by the silent approach of Evan. Mycroft watched the young man, admiring the sub as he went to John and dropped gracefully onto the thick cushion by John's feet.

John's free hand immediately went to the dark curls once Evan came to rest by his side. A gentle tug brought the sub's head onto his thigh, John stroking tenderly while he selected food to offer the sub. Evan eagerly accepted bits of beef, cheese, and fruit from the Dom's hand, letting his tongue lick the calloused fingers or suck away juices when the digits lingered for his mouth. John continued to talk with Mycroft over inconsequential things, taking his own bites between offerings; the Captain particularly enjoyed the indulgent aspects of his nature by feeding and caring for the sub.

John was therefore unprepared when Evan caught two of his fingers in his mouth and began to suck with more force, pushing his head further into the Dom's lap to take the fingers deeper. John glanced down only to be jolted sharply by the combined force of memory and sensation. Seeing only dark curls and a head moving purposefully in his lap, his mind substituted Sherlock eagerly sucking his fingers the night at the hospital and rutting against his thigh. John sucked in a soft gasp as his cock swiftly hardened in his pants and the fingers of his free hand tightened unconsciously in the mop of hair as he began to thrust his fingers into the warm, wet mouth, his voice coming out husky with rising passion.

"Ooo, we're a greedy little slut tonight aren't we? Tired of waiting for another cock in that mouth are you? I wonder what else you want." John was murmuring softly down at the dark head, a degree of tenderness creeping into his voice as he continued to see Sherlock in his mind's eye still taking his fingers in hungrily.

Mycroft took note of the change, cocking his head and studying John carefully. The Captain didn't notice, lost in his erotic memory. But then Evan raised his head, glancing up at John with heat in his brown eyes as he continued to suck.

Brown eyes? Wrong eyes. Sherlock? Fuck!

John blinked, his vision shifting until he was once more looking at Evan's face before him. He ignored the sudden sense of disappointment and managed to smile as he drew his fingers away from the suckling mouth, cupping the sub's face instead. "You do seem to be determined to cause mischief tonight, don't you?"

"No sir. Only to give you pleasure." Evan stated readily.

John sat back, glancing over at Mycroft with a forced wink. "Well in that case, we should move things along here." Evan beamed, rising up and reaching for John's flies before the hand tightened once again in his hair and pulled hard. "When and how I say, pet. Remember yourself. Kneel and stay." John rose and headed for the lav. He needed a small break to collect himself...this thing with Sherlock was getting out of hand.

Mycroft watched him go, a pensive expression on his face. Though it was covered well, he noticed the change when John looked at Evan and appeared surprised. The manipulation seemed to be working, he simply wished John would not struggle so with himself over the obvious. He glanced over at the sub, still kneeling beside John's chair, head bowed, and hands in his lap; waiting for the Dom to return. It would not be fair to say Mycroft doubted his own wisdom in this matter. No, he was certain his actions were needed. Rather, it was the yet to be determined outcome that twisted his stomach into knots. He had been absolutely honest with John since their relationship began and his necessary manipulations now felt anything but honest.

{*} {*} {*}

Sherlock had taken the steps two at a time, topping the short stairs and finding himself standing exposed on the walkway in front of the lounges. From here, John or Mycroft, either one could see him. A practiced sweep of his surroundings found the lounge behind him to be empty, the curtains partially drawn and the lights off. He ducked inside and hide behind the heavy curtain; from here he could see John and Mycroft clearly, the semi-circular design working in his favor. He couldn't hear what they were saying but this would do for now.

He watched John's interactions with the sub; seething with a feeling he couldn't quite define as he saw his John touching someone that wasn't him so intimately. He could ignore Mycroft, for the most part, he was well used to doing so already. But this man was a complete stranger and had John's attention in a way he himself craved, only to be denied. Sherlock's eyes widened as he watched the things John did to the young man, a foreign feeling curling in his lower abdomen.

When John led the sub over to Mycroft and had him kneel between his brother's legs, he groaned in disgust. As if he cared about his brother's kinks, he needed to know about John and how all of this tied into his relationship with his brother. So he ignored Mycroft completely, focusing on John and what he was doing. The paddling was straightforward, though Sherlock couldn't see the appeal, his recent travels too fresh in his mind to consider such a thing as pleasurable. He watched John, his infinite attention both to Mycroft's pleasure and the man submitting to his ministrations; the absolute control he maintained over the scene as it played out.

But it was what happened after the sex that struck a chord with Sherlock, observing John's tenderness and care, the obvious soothing and petting as he checked the sub and tended to his inflamed cheeks. No wonder the sub was smiling, he would be blissfully happy too if he had John fawning over him. But it didn't stop there. He paid careful attention as the young man knelt beside John once again, only to be petted some more and fed from John's own hand. That less pleasant feeling reared his head once more as he tried to understand why he could not be the one receiving John's ministrations instead of this stranger. Sherlock's mind latched onto this thought, beginning to consider an aspect never had before; trying to imagine himself in the other man's place.

He had offered John his body and had been refused. As he watched the two men interact, the conscious give and take, he had the barest glimpse that there was something more to this fetish than he originally thought. He had never given the practices of the people who frequented these places much thought. Only what was required to solve the case at hand at the time. He turned his attention back across the lower room, most of the patrons were not even engaged in sex, though various acts of an intimate nature could be observed. Something was gained from this by all parties beyond the carnal pleasure itself.

He looked back at John, recalling how he had found him the night he returned home. Ignoring the arousal he felt at the memory, he tried to puzzle through his own pitiful deductions. John was not in charge that night, allowing himself to be used and dominated by Mycroft, a complete surprise to Sherlock, but his friend was utterly happy and content as he was that night. That much was evident. That evening it had been Mycroft who cared for John with tenderness and affection. Tonight John was the one in charge, Mycroft merely standing by...observing yes, but only joining in with the sub if John dictated it. Tonight's John was much more like the strong military Captain, Sherlock thought of as his, yet both men were the same. The deductions were still trickling as slow as molasses but pieces were slowly moving into place.

He thought of all he had learned of John's life and behavior after his supposed demise; the turmoil he had suffered. Was it possible that John needed some solace from his own torment, just as Sherlock did now? Did Mycroft give that to John? Was that how he saved him? Did he keep John alive by taking control when he was no longer capable of functioning? Sherlock did not possess the definitive answers but he knew he was on the right track now. John needed Mycroft just as he needs John. The problem still being how to get what he needed.

He could have lingered there all night with his thoughts but movement drew his attention back to the lounge. Apparently the next act of the evening was preparing to start.

{*} {*} {*}

John splashed the cool water over his face for the third time, scrubbing his hands over his face as though that would shake his thoughts into some rational state. Finally he straightened, facing himself in the mirror. "Okay. Fine. You want Sherlock. You've always wanted Sherlock, nothing new there." He glanced around the lav, just in case anyone was listening to him talk to himself. "The question is what do you intend to do about it?" Nothing had always been his default answer, but between Mycroft and his own treacherous mind, that was not going to be an option for much longer. He worked his jaw in frustration before glaring at his reflection once more. "Fine! Just...fine. You will sit down with Sherlock and Mycroft both, very soon, and discuss this insanity. But right now, you are here and that is not Sherlock waiting for you out there." A cursory check of his appearance and a sharp nod, then Captain Watson turned smartly on his heel and exited the lav, determined to retake control of this evening.

Evan was waiting just as he had left him. John ignored Mycroft, marching over to grasp the sub's collar, tugging sharply as he commanded. "Up." Evan scrambled to comply, following readily as John pulled him over to the dais once more. "Kneel." The command rang out sharply and the sub dropped to his knees before the Dom, a delicious shudder passing over him at the sudden forcefulness.

John gripped the dark curls once again, pulling the sub's face against his crotch, rubbing his cloth-covered cock against one cheek as he spoke. "Is this what you've been waiting for pet? Not had nearly enough yet, have you? Want some more cock."

Evan was inhaling deeply as the thick cock rutted against his face, attempting to turn his face enough to mouth the hard shaft through the fabric but prevented by the hand in his hair. He moaned as he looked up at the Dom and answered. "Yes, please sir. I want your cock. It's such a big lovely cock sir. Use me, please. Fuck me sir."

It was a tempting thought but John had other plans. Holding up the small remote he had been keeping in his pocket all evening, he replied. "You already know that isn't going to happen. Mister Holmes and I don't play that way." Evan groaned beneath him but John only switched sides and thrust his cock more firmly against the other cheek. "I will however, fuck that pretty mouth of yours. I'll even allow you to remain unbound, let you use your hands to please me. Now if you are able to stay focused and not get distracted from your task by my little toy…" John hit the control and a powerful vibration rippled through the plug still wedged firmly in Evan's arse causing a harsh gasp to escape the sub, tapering into a pleased moan. "As I said, if you can remain focused, I will allow you to come and help as well. Should you lose focus, I shall still allow you to come but you will have to do so untouched. Are my conditions clear?" He pulsed the plug once again, watching Evan tremble while he shakily nodded and answered.

"Y-yes sir. Perfectly clear."

John clicked the remote off for the moment. "Then I suggest you don't keep me waiting." He let go of Evan's hair and dropped his hands to his sides. He didn't have to worry as the sub scrambled to unfasten his trousers. Evan was already pulling out John's hardened cock when John cleared his throat pointedly. The sub looked up, groaning in disappointment when he saw the condom John held in his hand.

Evan eyed the flushed cock in his hands, licking his lips as his mouth watered. He had quite the oral fixation and he desperately wanted to taste the Dom's cock, feel the unbuffered heat in his mouth. He was so tempted to simply lean forward and take the waiting shaft down in one go and damn the consequences.

John might not know his deductions but he knew his subs. He could see Evan's thoughts plain as day. He waited for the moment before the sub moved to act on his desires, tapping him lightly on the bridge of his nose. "Ah-ah-ah. I wouldn't do that pet. You know my rules." He held the condom down to the young man and smirked at the barely contained disappointment as it was taken.

Scant moments later and John sighed as his long neglected arousal disappeared into the moist heat of Evan's mouth. He let the sub work his shaft for a few minutes, moaning happily as one hand curled around the base of his cock and one palming his bollocks while the mouth hollowed and sucked over him. Just as they established a rhythm, John began to play with the remote. Light, strong, slow, fast, shifting the vibrations at random. Despite moaning loudly around the cock in his mouth, Evan was not deterred from his task. John smiled, reaching down to stroke the curls once more. "That's it pet. You're doing very well. I'm going to fuck you now. Fuck that greedy little mouth and watch you choke on that big cock you crave so much." Evan's eyes fell closed with a low groan as he nodded slightly around the cock in his mouth, eager to continue and please his Dom.

Mycroft had been watching them both avidly, well aware of the change in John's attitude since he returned from the lav. He caught the slight jerk of John's head, signaling him over just as he gripped the sub's head and began thrusting into his mouth and throat. He stepped over to the dias following John's gaze to the plug in the sub's arse.

"Give our pet a little help there will you. He's been such a good boy for us tonight don't you agree?" John clipped out as he continued fucking into the sub, his pleasure mounting.

Mycroft's lip curled in his signature sneer as he knelt behind the sub and began to press and pull the plug, pulsing it steadily against the sub's prostate. He looked up into John's eyes, both of them recalling the afternoon at the manor, not so long ago when he pleasured John this way.

John's hips stuttered sharply in remembered arousal and he moaned as the sub gagged around his cock. He pulled back to a reasonable depth, continuing to fuck the willing mouth as he hit the remote again.

Evan whined loudly, his hips rocking back and forth with Mycroft's ministrations and the added stimulation of the vibrations. He did not want to risk displeasing his Dom at this point, so he brought his hands up to grip the muscular arse as it pumped the thick cock down his throat, kneading and squeezing the taut muscles to his Dom's groan of pleasure.

John was getting closer and with his signal, Mycroft reached around to grasp the sub's cock, stroking in time with the plug and John's thrusts. The sub keened loudly, causing an echoing moan from John as they drew closer to completion.

{*} {*} {*}

Sherlock had watched John drag the sub over to the small platform again. He could see the look on John's face but the deductions he was reaching were incomplete. He needed to be nearer. Carefully, he slipped from his hiding spot and moved closer to the lounge that held the trio he was observing so intently. He stopped just before the entrance to the lounge, the thick curtain still shielding him from view somewhat, especially since Mycroft's back was to him now and their attention was elsewhere. Though if either of them chose to look up now, he would be spotted.

He had heard John's crass statements to the submissive man just as he began to fuck rather roughly into the man's mouth. He observed Mycroft's actions, driving the sub to greater heights of pleasure. But it was John that held his gaze. Perfect, gorgeous John, taking his pleasure from the man at his feet. Sherlock took in the brow furrowed in concentration, the fine sheen of sweat, the muscles flexing and bulging beneath his tailored clothes, and finally the glorious thickness of John's swollen red cock, saliva slicked and thrusting in and out of the sub's throat. He was suddenly struck with the visceral desire to be the man on the receiving end of that beautiful cock, despite his personal inexperience. In a matter of moments he became aware of his own pronounced arousal now revived from earlier in the evening. Almost without thought he reached up and grasped the heavy curtain at his side, searching for something to steady himself as he spied on the trio, his own arousal pulled along by the heated display.

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John was getting close, his orgasm nearing the boiling point, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. He glanced up and nearly froze in shock. He knew better than to be surprised by the antics of his best friend but the last thing he expected to see was Sherlock standing just outside their lounge. The detective's face was flushed a faint pink, his cupid's bow lips parted with his respirations, the most damning evidence of the detective's current state being the obvious bulge distending the front of his tailored trousers. Sherlock was watching him with the sub and he was clearly aroused.

The sight caused a vicious spike in John's own arousal. Well aware that he wouldn't last much longer, he caught Sherlock's eye with his own knowing gaze while he spoke. Thrusting deep into Evan's mouth he practically purred, "Is that what you want pet? Want every inch of that thick cock you can get?"

Sherlock's eyes darted from John down to the sub nodding slightly then back again. He shifted his feet trying to relieved his own erection trapped within the confines of his clothing but never let his attention waver from John's piercing stare.

John was decidedly turned on by his newfound audience. He clutched the dark hair tight with one hand but let the one nearest Sherlock drift down until he could wrap it around the front of the sub's throat, groaning dramatically as he thrust home again and felt his cock distending the flesh beneath his hand. His eyes closed momentarily in absolute bliss, only to snap open and pin Sherlock once again.

"Yes. You like that, don't you? Greedy little sluts like you can never get enough cock, can you?" Evan's moans were becoming desperate and John was on the edge himself.

Sherlock was eyeing them both, shifting his hips from side to side for any bit of friction or relief, but steadfastly refusing to touch himself in public, let alone with John watching. Mycroft had detected the change in John's demeanor but had no reason to panic since John did not appear deterred in any way. Instead, he gradually shifted until he could glimpse in the direction John was looking. His eyes widened in surprise though he could not say he was shocked that they had been followed. He continued on as John wished, watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye, seeing everything.

"Are you ready to come, pet?" Evan whined loudly in agreement. "Yes, you need it don't you? Alright then, you've been so good for me tonight, just perfect." John thumbed the remote in his hand to high just as Mycroft ground the plug into Evan's arse. "Go ahead, come for me pet. Come for me now."

After the prolonged arousal of the evening and the denial of release earlier, Evan's orgasm erupted from his flushed cock on command, his fingers clenched tightly on the Dom's arse and his guttural cries were muffled by the cock now thrusting harshly into his mouth and throat. The effect was staggering and Evan could only cling to the Dom until the torrent subsided.

Sherlock wasn't aware of nodding his head when John asked the sub if he was ready, despite the rhythmic throbbing in his groin, he wasn't even aware that he was so close either. The combination of sight and sound was far more stimulating than anything he had ever witnessed before though he couldn't pinpoint the difference that made it so, beyond John's presence. All he knew was that when his eyes met John's and his Captain commanded 'come for me now', he did.

Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, clung to the drapery in a exclusive sex club and came in his pants so forcefully that his knees buckled beneath him. Leaving him spent, shocked, and unsettled on the floor of the club under the stunned gaze of his friend and his brother.

John had groaned loudly as Evan's orgasms crested, increasing the stimulation to his cock tenfold. But his eyes were glued to Sherlock, he held on to Evan's curls and watched as the detective came apart before his eyes, utterly blindsided by his own orgasm. John watched the detective sink to his knees, still trying to work out what had happened. Knowing that he had caused that to happen, he had brought Sherlock Holmes to his knees without even touching him. That was the final straw that tipped the Dom over the edge. Sherlock's name escaped his mouth in a silent gasp while his own orgasm wracked his body and he shuddered with pleasure, still thrusting into Evan's mouth as the aftershocks nearly blinded him to his surroundings. When he could focus once more, pulling his spent cock from the sub's abused mouth and cradling the dark head against his hip as they both began to recover, Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I took WAY too long to get this chapter posted. And YES, I apologize profusely. Real life is slowly getting better but I can't begin to tell you how hard it was to get this chapter pulled out of my brain and on the page. I am always more grateful to Spades than she knows for all of her help and encouragement to keep at it. :-D All of my other updates have waited because of this fic. I flat out refused to work on anything else after the fests I did until I finished this update. Now it is here and it is huge and I can only hope you enjoy the continuing story becasue there is still much to come as I can get to it. And Thankfully, my other updates are once more in progress. Please enjoy! :) Cynthia

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