Mycroft can't help but hang back for a moment, appreciating the debauched image of the poor man with the same scrutinizing eye he might associate with a fine work of art; something etched out in marble with a delicate touch, and the way that his brother writhes and seems to struggle with his words, that voice that seems all too impatient, and he takes his time as he slowly strolls around the bed.
Strolls around the bed and touches for a moment. Just a brush of fingertips over his skin, just a sigh that manages to escape despite his personal wishes. He simply appreciates, and knows fully well that his decision to drag this out is going to have Sherlock bucking up and whining for him eventually. He's already expecting his reward straight off.
"Not yet." He murmurs, because he's still appreciating, he's still slowly, slowly drinking him in.
If this is still some addled dream, some sort of one-of drug-addled event, then he's going to take the moment to be able to appreciate him for all that he is, all that long, lean-bodied gorgeousness.
"In good time, dear brother." And then he leans close, murmuring a dark, soft growl against his ear. "I have plans for you."
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Mycroft can't help but hang back for a moment, appreciating the debauched image of the poor man with the same scrutinizing eye he might associate with a fine work of art; something etched out in marble with a delicate touch, and the way that his brother writhes and seems to struggle with his words, that voice that seems all too impatient, and he takes his time as he slowly strolls around the bed.
Strolls around the bed and touches for a moment. Just a brush of fingertips over his skin, just a sigh that manages to escape despite his personal wishes. He simply appreciates, and knows fully well that his decision to drag this out is going to have Sherlock bucking up and whining for him eventually. He's already expecting his reward straight off.
"Not yet." He murmurs, because he's still appreciating, he's still slowly, slowly drinking him in.
If this is still some addled dream, some sort of one-of drug-addled event, then he's going to take the moment to be able to appreciate him for all that he is, all that long, lean-bodied gorgeousness.
"In good time, dear brother." And then he leans close, murmuring a dark, soft growl against his ear. "I have plans for you."