In the beginning, it was purely about sex.

There was nothing remotely romantic about its beginnings. Greg had been doing paperwork at an unspeakably late hour in the office one night when Mycroft showed up to collect some files on Sherlock's latest case. Greg wasn't entirely sure what had happened next, but the next thing he knew Mycroft was bent over his desk and Greg was fucking the British government hard and fast.

This had carried on for several months. It was an unspoken arrangement, they could go weeks without seeing each other but sooner or later one would end up at the other's office or home late at night. Sometimes there was booze, sometimes there was food, but it always ended with sex. It had started as a business arrangement, pure and simple.

Greg couldn't quite put his finger on when things had changed. Maybe it had been the day Mycroft had brought Greg coffee while he was working a crime scene (black two sugars – just the way he liked it, although Greg didn't remember ever telling him this).

Maybe it was the night Mycroft had made to get out of bed to leave and Greg had lazily leaned over and given him a soft goodbye kiss, a clear breach of one-night-stand etiquette, although neither said anything about it. Maybe it had been a combination of these incidents paired with a thousand other nearly inconsequential looks, touches, and comments that led to this moment.

This perfect, shining moment.

Greg looked down at Mycroft, who was curled on his side with his head resting on Greg's chest and an arm draped lazily around his waist. Greg dared not move a muscle, even his breathing was shallow so that the politician could remain undisturbed. It was like getting a butterfly to rest on your hand, Greg thought. No, scratch that. There really wasn't a proper simile for this situation. It was exactly like having the British Government fall asleep in your arms.

Somewhere along the way, the game had changed. And though this terrified Greg, he found himself pressing a soft kiss to Mycroft's forehead before closing his own eyes and drifting to sleep.