"Mycroft. Mycroft." Greg giggled with a wide grin spread over his features as he was pushed against the wall by a slender figure.

"Shhh." Mycroft replied hurriedly, placing his hands on the wall behind Greg and attempting to regain purchase of his mouth, instead brushing his lips across the man's flushed cheek as he turned his head.

"Someone will find us." Greg whispered, breath unsteady, his expression not faltering as he glanced around. "We'll get caught and then everyone will know." He continued, looking up at the man looming over him.

Mycroft had successfully got purchase of his mouth before he could say another word, coaxing him into a stronger kiss with his tongue, invading the personal insides of Greg's mouth.

A combination of lager and whiskey violated Mycroft's mouth. It should have tasted horrendous, should have made him stop, but it didn't. He continued his empowerment of his lover's mouth, reveling in the taste of his one and only, devouring his gasps as their teeth clashed and tongues collided ferociously.

Mycroft felt something against his abdomen, gently pushing against it, then suddenly the pressure increased and he was pushed away less abruptly than he was expecting. With his hands still splayed out on the wall, he looked down at a most definitely dishevelled Inspector, whose eyes were darkened immensely by lust and hunger - and a twinge of danger.

His slack mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk, causing Greg to respond with a giggle on bated breath. "You." He panted, toying with Mycroft's tie. "You are a bad influence on me."

Mycroft's eyebrow instantly rose in that way to say really? "I think you'll find, Inspector, you are the bad influence here."

"Oh?" Greg said, joining with a raised eyebrow and a more intrigued expression.

"Oh, indeed, Gregory Lestrade. As I recall, you were the one who handed me multiple glasses of whiskey and encouraged me to drink. What was it you said, dear? Drink up or I won't play fair. Am I correct in remembering the exact words?"

And he was. Those were Greg's precise words as he handed him his 3rd glass at the bar earlier that evening, with a disgustingly, beautiful smirk on his face, followed by a devious wink.

Greg swallowed, Mycroft smirking at him as his gaze lowered to his throat where he could see both his pulse rapidly increasing and the lump in his throat dipping. "But from what I can recall, Sir, you are the one who has been flirting and teasing all evening." Greg smirked as he wrapped his fist firmly around Mycroft's tie before tugging it hard and bringing their faces parallel, "You were the one who couldn't keep your hands to yourself." he whispered, his warm, musky breath dancing over the other man's equally warm skin.

Mycroft's expression didn't falter at the sudden jerk of his head, instead the smirk already placed there grew larger and more mischievous. He was pulled into a messy, heated kiss, delighting in the combination of cheap alcohol and the natural taste of his lover.

Mycroft pulled out of the kiss, panting a little and smirking. Greg returned the smirk and reached up to Mycroft's face, an attempt to coax him back into the kiss but Mycroft took hold of one of his hands, threading their fingers and swiftly escaped down the path, pulling a stumbling Inspector behind him.

"Mycroft, what are you doing? They'll notice we're-"

"Shh. Remember, Gregory, you don't want to be caught. Quiet or they'll hear you." Mycroft whispered as he turned around to face Greg, hand clasped tightly around a small silver door knob, pushing it open and backing into a dark, empty room with a smirk that would send an ache to any one's cock.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ah. M-ahh!" Greg panted, the fist in Mycroft's hair tightening and pulling him closer.

Mycroft's thrusts faltered slightly, slowing a little as his brain tried to understand the sudden change of position and found his mouth parallel to one of Greg's nipples. He grinned and glanced up at Greg, noticing that he had no idea that Mycroft's mouth was only millimeters away from one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

He sped up his thrusts, violently pushing into him causing Greg to stop breathing for a short moment, until Mycroft flicked his tongue out over the hard nub and clamped his mouth over it, sucking harshly before being pushed abruptly back up.

"You bastard." Greg breathed out after an alerted gasp, hands splayed out over Mycroft's creamy white chest, slowly lowering themselves to the table to search for purchase as each thrust got more forceful, more distinct. As the painful grip on his hips increased and felt blunt nails digging in.

Mycroft's mouth stretched into a smug smirk as he watched Greg's eyes fall closed, mouth slack and damp. His gaze descended over Greg's body, finding small beads of sweat covering his torso, watching Greg's fingers twitch as he reached for something to hold on to. Spotting the just forming bruises underneath the pads of his thumbs on his hips, his thighs damp and trembling, wrapped painfully tight around his waist, then finally his gaze caught sight of his goal.

It was a beautiful sight, draped over Greg's stomach, leaking a generous amount of pre-come. Some sat in his belly button, the rest smeared in a line over his stomach, where his cock had slipped whenever Mycroft had thrust forcefully. His cock was thick and damp, a concoction of sweat and pre-come smeared over it, and it clearly needed attention.

Mycroft wanted to stop thrusting and instead, take Greg into his mouth and pleasure him that way. With his tongue, his lips, his teeth. He wanted to taste the gorgeous combination of pre-come and sweat again, make Greg release into his mouth and taste how delicious and beautiful he was.

Suddenly, his thought was broken as he heard a huffed chuckle from the man beneath him. His thrusts had slowed without intention and Greg had caught him staring, again.

"Every time." Greg sighed out, a wide, overly confident grin manipulating his features.

"Shut up." Mycroft responded on a huff. He bent over from his upright position, releasing his grip on Greg's hips and splaying them either side of Greg's head as he regained his previous pace, but going deeper, luring a loud feverish groan to escape Greg as his head lolled to the side, his grin disappearing instantly, going slack once again, moving only slightly to mouth the words "Fuck" and "Jesus Christ".

Mycroft dipped his head to nip at Greg's bottom lip, receiving a hungry kiss in return. He grinned into the kiss as he felt Greg's hands grip his hips, pulling their hips closer desperately, making each thrust more enjoyable and pleasurable for Mycroft, being deeper and knowing his lover wanted him deeper.

Greg pulled out of the kiss, tipping his head back and voicing a strangled groan. "Fuck." he cursed, panting dangerously. He was lightheaded and couldn't see through his blurry vision. He wasn't sure if it was the pleasure or lack of oxygen, but he didn't care. "Oh, Jesus Christ. Mycroft."

During the kiss, Mycroft had slid his hand between their bodies and began stroking him, receiving the most gorgeous response from Greg and reveling in the curses that dared to pass his lips.

Mycroft hummed against Greg's lips, coaxing him back into a kiss before nudging Greg's chin with his nose. Greg's head tipped back as Mycroft nipped at the skin descending down his neck, stroking him gently, then increasing the pace to match his erratic thrusts.

Greg's figure writhed beneath Mycroft, arching his back and wiggling his hips just the slightest, causing himself to cry out as the angle changed and Mycroft hit directly on the right spot. He whimpered as he attempted to get that angle again, but the overwhelming sensation on his cock ceased and Mycroft's grip on his hips returned, holding him in place, the painful ache lingering at his hips becoming more sharper then dissolving into the overwhelming pleasure pulsating through his body.

Mycroft's gaze caught sight of Greg grimacing at the pain. He let go of Greg's hips and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist instead, feverishly pulling him upright to sit uncomfortably on the table.

Greg's legs tightened around Mycroft's waist as he was dragged forward and tilted back slightly, sat almost on the very bottom of his back, making up for the lack of pain at his hips.

Mycroft's arms pulled him flush against his torso, his thrusts unaltered during the change of position. Mycroft closed his eyes for a second as he concentrated on keeping his pace up, refusing to slack now, then opened his eyes suddenly as Greg bit onto his bottom lip and dragged his teeth over it for a prolonged length of time, causing Mycroft to shiver, falter his thrusts and groan all at once.

Greg grinned as he released Mycroft's lip, darting a tongue out to dampen his own then smashing their mouths together in a greedy kiss. He began to roll his hips as he commanded his tongue to savagely take over Mycroft's mouth, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and weaving his fingers into his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

He had successfully achieved the task of distracting Mycroft, noting that he had ceased his movements and was completely silent, except the alluring gasps that escaped him each time they parted for a mere second and the jerk of his hips instinctively reacting to the pleasure thrumming down his cock and through the whole of his body.

The grip around his waist tightened and he found himself being lifted off the table. He instinctively rested his elbows on Mycroft's shoulders and secured himself to the man, hands clutching balls of soft, silky strands of hair, forearms meeting at the back of his head, forcing Mycroft further into the kiss.

He broke the kiss as he cried out, in response to the sudden pain shooting through his spine when Mycroft slammed him against the wall.

The violent thrusts were back, urging him further up the wall every time Mycroft slammed his hips against his.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Greg panted, hands scrambling over Mycroft's back, searching for something to hold on to.

Mycroft had him pinned against the wall, slamming his hips into Greg as his mouth made a vicious attack on the man's neck, biting, sucking and licking, savouring the taste of his lover, thoroughly covering the curve where his neck and shoulder met and his collarbone in red patches, leaving the potential to bruise.

"Mycroft, I-" Greg was cut off and gasped as one of Mycroft's hand tightened around his balls.

"Not yet." He whispered, keeping the tight hold until Greg insisted he could control himself.

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg again, moving them back to the table in no less than a few seconds and loomed over Greg as he pushed him down on the table.

"Do you want to come?" Mycroft drawled out, moving in and out of Greg dramatically slow, creating a more painful sensation for him.

Greg whimpered when Mycroft started to push back in, "Mycroft, Mycroft, please. Yes, yes, please, don't do this. Don't tease..." he begged, knowing this was what Mycroft wanted him to do. "Please, fuck me bloody senseless and let me come, please, I need to."

"How much do you need to, Inspector?" Mycroft spoke quietly, a curious and teasing eyebrow rose as he watched the pleading face of his lover as he slowly pulled out of him again.

"Fuck, so much. So fucking much. Mycroft please" Greg choked, trying to grab Mycroft's hips and pull him back in before he was fully out, but was stopped by Mycroft's fingers threading with his and pushing his hands above his head. "no, no, no, Mycroft, please." He almost sobbed, eyes filling with tears of frustration and need.

Greg yelped suddenly as Mycroft slammed viciously hard into him, then thrusting into him at a powerful pace.

"Oh, Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Fu- Myc- sh- fu-" Greg's mouth suddenly an incoherent mess, the tears that previously filled his eyes leaving as he squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on the pleasure that took over his body, the pleasure he'd pleaded for.

Mycroft bent over and kissed him, again. Going with his previous actions of distracting with a kiss then wrapping his fingers tightly around Greg's needy, beautiful cock and pulling in time with his thrusts.

He moved the kisses down the mans neck, returning where he'd previously made an attack as Greg arched into his hand, changing the angle and making it very easy to hit that perfect spot again.

"Don't stop. Fuck. So good. So. Fucking. Go-ahh!" He gasped as Mycroft bit into his collarbone, continuing to hit that spot, causing Greg to tremble in delight and finally reaching the highest point of pleasure, hot spurts of come making themselves comfortable on both of their stomachs.

Mycroft followed instantly, unable to suppress the audible groan that escaped him. Falling limp slightly over the man beneath him as his vision completely blurred and his breathing halted. He rode out his orgasm with gentle thrusts, and stroked Greg through his, delighting in the delicious whimpers that were leaving his Inspector.

Greg whimpered once more as Mycroft pulled out of him and flopped on top of him, reality hitting hard down on Greg as he realised where they were.

"Jesus Christ." Greg sighed as he tried to get his breath back. "Did we just do that? Here?"

Mycroft chuckled against Greg's damp skin, layering the body beneath him with light, gentle kisses. "It appears that we did."