Sherlock felt pleasantly warm and comfortable. The heat was radiating from his groin. As his brain slowly regained consciousness, he first registered a feeling of conten tment, and almost a reluctance to awaken, which was atypical. Then he felt the pleasure. The tingling. His heart rate was higher than normal for a person who had just been sleeping for hours. And his groin felt-- Sherlock's mind snapped awake, but he kept his eyes closed. He immediately registered his erection, the hand on his cock, and the person sitting on the edge of his bed. On his next inhalation through his nose, the air brought the subtle scent of a very ex pensive aftershave. Mycroft. No doubt Mycroft noticed his brother was now conscious. And as if in confirmation, a smug hum of mock-discovery reached Sherlock's ears. Sherlock gritted his teeth in annoyance, though it was tempered by the arousal coursing through him from the activity of Mycroft's hand. Sherlock's mind filled in the story instantaneously; Mycroft had don e this before. Always it was scheduled around John's absence from the flat, when Mycroft knew he would be gone for at least a few hours, and also immediately following the closure of a long, involved case, when he knew Sherlock would sleep deeply for awhile. Mycroft couldn't be counted on to make an appearance each time those events coincided, of course. He wouldn't want Sherlock to grow bored of their little playtimes through predictability. Befitting their relationship, Sherlock affected annoyance and sometimes even outright loathing at Mycroft materializing in his flat. True to form, Sherlock frowned and groaned slightly. Seemingly disinterested in his brother's reaction, Mycroft continued slowly, teasingly, gliding his fist up and down Sherlock's lubed, erect cock under the blanket. He was moving just slightly slower than Sherlock would have preferred. Intentionally, of course. They had done this enough that their sexual knowledge of each other was very intimate and agonizingly accurate. Sherlock still hadn't opened his eyes. "Why are you here?" he growled, his voice still thick with sleep. Mycroft vocalized his patronizing smile. After a moment, he added, "Because you've been working yourself extra hard, lately, my dear brother. I'm worried about you. You need to incorporate some

relaxation