Hope I did this right... Prompt: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/4777.html?thread=13533097#t13533097
--- Mycroft had a thing for men in suits.
The first night they met, he made sure Dimmock was in a suit.
It was... unconventional, to say the least.
"So what's this?"
DI Dimmock crossed his arms defensively, shoes tapping on the floor with impatience. He'd been kidnapped - abducted, by some woman and a man on a payphone, only to be brought to an abandoned warehouse. His gun rested under his jacket, fingertips pressing into the cold metal barrel. He may have come along, but he wasn't an idiot.
Mycroft Holmes slowly walked towards the DI, umbrella tapping along beside him. "Mycroft Holmes. A pleasure, I'm sure."
Oh, so it was this man. The one Greg told him about when he was drunk one night. The brat's older brother who'd kidnapped him, proposing payment for information on Sherlock. He fidgeted and breathed random half-sighs at intervals, uncomfortable as the man simply watched him.
"Do you want me to spy? Be your little 'toy?'" he blurted with more venom than he intended. Okay, so he was a little nervous.
Mycroft approached, feet stopping mere inches from Dimmock's. He pressed in close, the difference in their height painfully obvious when he craned to appear defiant in front of the tall man. Mycroft's smirk was visible. He did like a man who could stand up for himself. Dimmock muscles clenched, tense.
"Hardly." His hand pressed to the DI's chest, fingers slowly trailing up his finely tailored suit. "I just could never resist a man in a good suit." The elder Holmes licked his lips and leaned in, closing the distance between the two.
---
When Dimmock had finally accepted his position as Mycroft's partner - instead of screaming and going red-faced - he'd found the man's suit-kink near adorable.
Mycroft always had a certain weakness to them. Whenever he visited the man he made to wear a suit, and the look of shock and pure want on the man's face never stopped being pleasing. It was one of the few things he held over Mycroft.
Even now, with the utterly posh man leaning over him and essentially trapping him to the wall of his office (after working hours), he had some semblance of control. Mycroft's hand wandered and brushed the edges of his suit, deep, guttural groans teased with each delightful stroke of Dimmock's tongue into his mouth.
Their lips rubbed and moved together, his tongue darting to tease and torture before he suddenly plunged it inside, corkscrewing around MYcroft's. He was a sensational kisser; Mycroft was putty under his hands.
Fingers curling into the politician's ginger hair and nibbling on Mycroft's lower lip, Dimmock smirked.
"Shall I take it off? Or would you like it on as I take you?" He whispered soothingly, and Mycroft shuddered, fingers dancing under the fabric.
"The suit would be utterly ruined; I just purchased this one for you," he purred, arguing for propriety's sake. He nipped and sucked harshly on Dimmock's lips, working them until they were swollen and puffy; supple. He soothed the reddened flesh with his tongue and smiled into his lips, the suit jacket falling to the floor.
"Such a pity," Dimmock said with little feeling as the suit slowly fell to pieces.
--- Somewhat what OP wanted...Mini-fill, I suppose. This pairing is too rare. I like the idea of snarky!Dimmock and smitten!Mycroft. Sort of, anyway.
Dimmock/Mycroft - Suits (mini-fill)
Prompt: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/4777.html?thread=13533097#t13533097
---
Mycroft had a thing for men in suits.
The first night they met, he made sure Dimmock was in a suit.
It was... unconventional, to say the least.
"So what's this?"
DI Dimmock crossed his arms defensively, shoes tapping on the floor with impatience. He'd been kidnapped - abducted, by some woman and a man on a payphone, only to be brought to an abandoned warehouse. His gun rested under his jacket, fingertips pressing into the cold metal barrel. He may have come along, but he wasn't an idiot.
Mycroft Holmes slowly walked towards the DI, umbrella tapping along beside him. "Mycroft Holmes. A pleasure, I'm sure."
Oh, so it was this man. The one Greg told him about when he was drunk one night. The brat's older brother who'd kidnapped him, proposing payment for information on Sherlock. He fidgeted and breathed random half-sighs at intervals, uncomfortable as the man simply watched him.
"Do you want me to spy? Be your little 'toy?'" he blurted with more venom than he intended. Okay, so he was a little nervous.
Mycroft approached, feet stopping mere inches from Dimmock's. He pressed in close, the difference in their height painfully obvious when he craned to appear defiant in front of the tall man. Mycroft's smirk was visible. He did like a man who could stand up for himself. Dimmock muscles clenched, tense.
"Hardly." His hand pressed to the DI's chest, fingers slowly trailing up his finely tailored suit. "I just could never resist a man in a good suit." The elder Holmes licked his lips and leaned in, closing the distance between the two.
---
When Dimmock had finally accepted his position as Mycroft's partner - instead of screaming and going red-faced - he'd found the man's suit-kink near adorable.
Mycroft always had a certain weakness to them. Whenever he visited the man he made to wear a suit, and the look of shock and pure want on the man's face never stopped being pleasing. It was one of the few things he held over Mycroft.
Even now, with the utterly posh man leaning over him and essentially trapping him to the wall of his office (after working hours), he had some semblance of control. Mycroft's hand wandered and brushed the edges of his suit, deep, guttural groans teased with each delightful stroke of Dimmock's tongue into his mouth.
Their lips rubbed and moved together, his tongue darting to tease and torture before he suddenly plunged it inside, corkscrewing around MYcroft's. He was a sensational kisser; Mycroft was putty under his hands.
Fingers curling into the politician's ginger hair and nibbling on Mycroft's lower lip, Dimmock smirked.
"Shall I take it off? Or would you like it on as I take you?" He whispered soothingly, and Mycroft shuddered, fingers dancing under the fabric.
"The suit would be utterly ruined; I just purchased this one for you," he purred, arguing for propriety's sake. He nipped and sucked harshly on Dimmock's lips, working them until they were swollen and puffy; supple. He soothed the reddened flesh with his tongue and smiled into his lips, the suit jacket falling to the floor.
"Such a pity," Dimmock said with little feeling as the suit slowly fell to pieces.
---
Somewhat what OP wanted...Mini-fill, I suppose. This pairing is too rare. I like the idea of snarky!Dimmock and smitten!Mycroft. Sort of, anyway.