They took off, and as Greg navigated the car to the highway, the younger man began to get bored.

"Greegoryyy. Greg. Stop ignoring me."

"I'm not ignoring you Myc, I gotta drive." Greg made a stupid face at him and Mycroft huffed, shuffling around to look for something to do.

"Listen, I got a road trip game that I used to play on long trips with the family. It's called the Alphabet game. Ever played it?"

Mycroft sniffed. "Obviously not."

"Okay, it's pretty easy. All you gotta do is shout out letters in the alphabet as you see them on signs or buildings. Like 'A in Applebee's' or somethin'."

"Okay."

Greg shouted out names of businesses they passed and Mycroft matched him one for one, until the game ended in a tie. Both men were flushed with excitement, as the game had turned into a shouting match when both tried to outdo the other. A happy silence fell over the Jeep, and they drove for a while, just watching the scenery go by.

Mycroft found himself starting to drift off as they drove, and as he slipped into unconsciousness, his head came to rest on Greg's shoulder. The older man grinned and shifted so it was more comfortable, and Mycroft immediately snuggled into the spot between his neck and his shoulder, seeking out warmth in his sleep. Greg drove like this for a while until he could feel his arm falling asleep, and he gently nudged Mycroft.

"Hey. Mycroft, wake up. Myc."

Greg grinned again as the younger man made a sound that could only be called a 'snuffle' before digging his head even deeper into the crook of his neck.

"Ouch, wake up Myc."

Mycroft's eyes opened instantly, and on seeing his position, namely the non-existent distance between his body and Greg's, instantly withdrew and sat up straight.

"I apologize, I have a sleeping habit of seeking warmth."

"Don't apologize Myc, it was fine. My arm was only falling asleep, that's all."

Mycroft smiled slightly and they rode until the growling of Greg's stomach broke the silence.

"You want somethin' to eat?" The older man asked. "I'm bloody starving."

"I'm a little thirsty, perhaps we could stop somewhere?"

"Yeah, there's a Wendy's near this exit, we'll go through the drive-thru."

They took the exit, and pulling up to the speaker, Greg eyed the menu hungrily.

"Ah...Hmmm...I'll have a Baconator, side of medium fries and a bottled water please. Myc, what do you want?"

Mycroft debated between the least-greasiest items on the menu, and settled on a chicken apple salad.

"Ew."

"Greg, it's healthy. And besides, salads don't cause grease to drip down your chin."

"It's still gross, give me bacon over lettuce any day."

"You're a baby."

Greg stuck his tongue out at the younger man, who rolled his eyes. Pulling up to the window, they took their food and Greg handed his debit card to the young man behind the glass. Opening the bag, Greg inhaled deeply and let out a porn-worthy groan that made Mycroft half jump out of his seat.

"I could make sweet love to this hamburger right now." He groaned. "Too bad sticking your dick in a pile of lettuce would be far less pleasurable."

Mycroft blushed, and looked down at his salad, picturing the appendage of which Greg spoke between the older man's legs. Stirring his salad around, his mind spiraled down that road until Greg's hand, searching for napkins while he was squinting at the road, landed squarely in his crotch.

Mycroft squeaked, and Greg instantly pulled back, realizing what he did.

"Ah, shit Myc sorry... I was just looking for napkins."

Greg's face was pink, and when Mycroft looked, he was indeed in need of a napkin, with barbecue sauce and crumbs dotted across his chin and cheeks.

"Messy eater, huh?" Mycroft smirked.

Reaching blindly for the napkins again, Greg snorted and made sure to stay well away from the younger man's lap.

"I found them, hold on." Mycroft muttered.

Struck with an idea, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the bottom of the greasy paper bag and cleaned Greg's face himself. Dabbing at all the spots with food, he methodically wiped it off, as Greg's lips began to twitch.

"What?" Mycroft spoke, suddenly worried.

"Damn it Myc, that bloody tickles!" Greg dissolved into laughter.

"Keep your eyes on the road, madman, you're going to get us killed."

Greg giggled and squirmed as Mycroft attempted to get the rest. Once he had finished, the older man licked his lips.

"Now you know my weakness Myc. I'm going to have to kill you now."

"I assumed that that was the point of this whole trip."

"Drama queen, it'll do you some good to loosen up, breathe air that's not been filtered for a day or so, yeah?"

Mycroft sank back with a huff and a smile that Gregory couldn't see.

This weekend WAS going to be interesting.