Behave.

Chapter 1

Mycroft kneeled sleepily at John's feet, struggling to keep his eyes open. It technically wasn't his fault, the pair had been up till late o'clock dealing with some... 'business.'

John sipped his coffee, sitting opposite Sherlock, and watched him stare daggers at a client. The client had claimed to have seen his previous wife sleeping with someone who looked exactly like himself. Obviously, John had figured it must have been a secret twin.

"Shush." Sherlock breathed loudly and glanced at John.

John looked bewildered. "I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking," he muttered, returning back to his usual 'Sherlock' pose, his hands pressed up to his lips.

"Sherlock, how is it possible for you to know what-"

"It's not twins. It's never twins," he muttered, still staring at his client.

At that point, Mycroft shuffled his knees and lowered his head a little more, trying not to laugh, and smirked. Obviously he had not tried hard enough, as John spotted his pet smirking down at the floor. He lightly slapped him on the back of the head, causing Mycroft to flinch.

"Anything funny, boy?" John asked.

Mycroft quickly shook his head, his smirk wiped clean off his face.

"Hmm?" John inquired, tilting his head and looking down at his pet expectantly.

"No, Sir, sorry Sir," he squeaked out. He didn't want to unleash Scary John. Scary John was something he tried to avoid at all costs.

Sherlock smirked over at his older brother, and returned to his client.

"Boring, boring!" he stood up immediately, getting frustrated. "Where's Greg?"

John checked his watch. "He's late."

Sherlock sighed. He hated punishing his pet, but he feared he would have to when he returned from wherever he was.

"Out!" he pointed to the door, gesturing for the client to leave. John rolled his eyes at Sherlock acting like a child.

"B-but, you didn't solve the case!"

"It was a twin," he said sarcastically, and shoved him out the door. Just as the client was leaving, Greg was about to unlock the door. Sherlock paused to stare at his pet. Greg blushed heavily, avoiding eye contact with his Dom.

"In." Sherlock said sternly, his voice low. Greg lowered his eyes and obeyed without hesitation. He had a reason why he was late, but he decided to keep quiet to avoid more trouble. Sherlock followed him into the living room where Mycroft and John were waiting, John's hand resting in Mycroft's hair.

"Strip," Sherlock ordered, ruffling his own hair in an attempt to relieve some of his frustration.

Greg complied immediately. "S-Sir, I can-" he started, while he was unbuttoning his shirt.

"I did not give you permission to speak, boy," his Dom stared down at him. Greg blushed a deep crimson and lowered his head even further, in a way of apology.

"Kneel in the corner, I'll be with you in a minute," Sherlock said, his tone a little lighter, but he was still short-tempered.

Greg kneeled in the corner while John and Mycroft snuggled lazily on the sofa. Mycroft was still kneeling, his face buried into his Dom's leg. John was pretty much asleep, the coffee not seeming to have worked. His eyes were droopy and he was staring off into the distance. Greg shuffled a bit on his knees. He hated the corner, it left him alone with his thoughts, which never ended well.

"Keep still, Greg," John warned in a stern tone, just as Sherlock entered the room. John was waking up a bit now, his Dom senses awake. Sherlock gave John a grateful look, and went to stand by Greg.

Greg struggled to keep still, especially now as his Dom was standing over him. Sherlock watched his pet fidget, squirming with humiliation and embarrassment. He then grabbed a fist of his hair and pulled his head up to reach his eyesight. Greg yelped, his face showing great pain.

"Look at me," Sherlock ordered. Greg was so focused on the pain that he didn't notice Sherlock giving him an instruction. Sherlock quickly slapped Greg across the cheek, repeating, "look at me, now, Greg." He gasped, surprised, but knew he deserved it.

This time, Greg looked into his eyes, his cheeks bright pink with humiliation and shame.

"Why were you late?" he asked.

"I-I... a couple of colleagues asked me out for drinks, I tried to say no.. I really did Sir!" His face was burning a deep red, as he tried hard not to look away from Sherlock's stare.

"Hmm... well you obviously didn't try hard enough, did you?"

"I- tried! I couldn't tell them about us, and I couldn't think of any other excuses..." he felt so ashamed of himself, and he could feel the look of disappointment coming from his Dom's beautiful, chiselled face.

"You could have at least called, Gregory. I was worried," Sherlock said, his anger subsided.

"Forgive me, Sir," was all he managed to squeak out, his voice small and guilty.

"No cumming for you tonight," his stern voice was back. Greg let out an involuntary groan. He hated orgasm denial. The groan earned a slap from his Dom, his cheek burning a bit now.

"You should be grateful it's not a worse punishment, boy. Oh, I almost forgot! Butt plug overnight for you too," Sherlock had obviously not forgotten, which made Greg's ears turn red with embarrassment.

He pulled the butt plug out of his pocket, along with some lube.

"Position," he ordered, allowing Greg to move into the correct position, his arse in the air and his hands grabbing his cheeks, spreading out his hole. Sherlock lathered the plug in lube, and slowly eased it into Greg's tight pink puckered hole.

Greg let out a low moan, a mixture of pleasure and pain, as Sherlock pushed the plug right in to the base. He twisted it, causing Greg's hips to buck, earning a slap on his thigh.

"If you so much as touch that plug without my permission, you will be in so much trouble, Mister."

Greg nodded quickly, not even wanting to imagine what Sherlock would do to him if that happened.

"You are forgiven, Greg. Thank you for taking your punishment so well," Sherlock wrapped his arms around Greg's waist, nuzzling his nose in his neck.

"Thank you for punishing me, Sir," he smiled a little, relieved he was forgiven.