"Get off your arse and get to work! People are dying, Anderson. If you don't want me to call Sherlock in then you better start making some progress! If I don't see you making any progress in the next 3 hours I'm going to call him and he'll show you up, again. And if he actually punches you this time, I won't restrain him."
He threw down a file onto Anderson's desk and stalked in the opposite direction. Slamming his office door as his colleagues watched him leave, wondering why he was so cranky. He sighed and leaned against the door. He rubbed a hand over his face and headed over to his desk.
It had been 5 days since that night when Mycroft Holmes had paid him a visit. He couldn't stop thinking about it, he had this constant pang in the pit of his stomach, which worsened whenever he'd heard Sherlock's name, instantly reminding him of Mycroft and how he should never have let him walk out that front door, alone and hurt. The look on his face before he shut the door... He didn't think it was possible for either of the Holmes' brothers to be hurt, but evidently it was and he was the reason for Mycroft's pain.
He sat in his chair and covered his face with his hands, allowing another sigh to escape him. He picked up his phone off the desk and considered ringing Sherlock. He knew all too well that there wouldn't be any progress in the next 3 hours, but he needed to trust and have a little faith in his colleagues. It was bad enough that he had to let Sherlock in on a case almost every time and have everyone else stand back and watch. It wasn't fair on them, but he needed Sherlock, no matter what anyone else said.
He dropped his phone onto the desk. He couldn't do it. He hadn't contacted anyone from Baker Street since that night. It reminded him of Mycroft and that night, the look on his face... He groaned. I don't understand. Why did I want to kiss him? I'm not attracted to men in that way...Sherlock was more than likely caught up with something more interesting and challenging anyway, he hadn't text Greg to mock him as he gave his brief to the force. He was glad, of course. Mainly because he wasn't going to be shown up in front of them idiots out there and also because he didn't want that constant reminder of Mycroft.
His face...
It's all he could think about. That pained look on Mycroft's face as he left his house...
And it was because of me...
He heard a loud slam which made him jump out of his skin. He opened his eyes and looked up. It was Sally.
"Sir."
"Sally. What is it? I've got things to be doing."
"Well, some man has come to reception requesting to see you."
Greg's heart stopped momentarily, "What does he look like?" because, honestly, who looks like Mycroft Holmes?
"Tall, dark hair, handsome and intimidating. He dresses very smart. I believe I've seen him before but I can't recall where from."
Oh god. He had stopped breathing as soon as the words handsome and intimidatingleft her mouth.
"Sir?" Sally stared at him, looking on with concern. She stepped towards his desk. "Sir, are you okay?"
Greg mentally shook himself and resumed breathing. "Er.. yeah. Send him in and make sure no one comes to my office. I want no interruptions for the next hour." He gestured with his hand for Sally to leave and, with hesitation, she did. He had no clue why he said for the next hour, but he thought when Mycroft leaves he'll probably want some time to figure everything out.
He tried to compose himself. He stood up and straightened his suit out, wiping off non-existent dirt. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. After 2 minutes of awkwardly standing in silence glancing around his office, tidying his desk as much as he could with all the files and notes covering it, a knock came from the door. The same knock as that night... Greg swallowed and took another deep breath before calling "Come in."
As expected, Mycroft Holmes appeared from the other side of the door. "Lestrade."
"Mr. Holmes."
Mycroft averted his gaze from Greg's cautious and apologetic expression. "I'm only here to make sure you understand that what happened the other night occurred because I had consumed quite a few alcoholic beverages and I miss judged how many I could handle. I'm deeply contrite for my actions and I apologise for everything that took place and for waking you up in the early hours of the morning. I just wanted to check that you understand and I hope you forgive me."
"Mycroft, -"
"Lestrade, please." Mycroft jerked his head round and stared directly into Greg's eyes, holding the gaze for 4 long seconds and breaking the contact. Greg watched his throat dip as Mycroft swallowed. Is he nervous? What..."Lestrade, do you understand what I just told you?"
"I understand it, I just don't believe it." Greg didn't know where that had come from, but he felt less anxious after saying it and watched Mycroft as he turned to him knowing he'd been caught out.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't believe it." Greg refused to remove his eyes from the taller, most certainly intimidating, mans direction. "I don't believe that it happened because you had become intoxicated. I believe you wanted to kiss me and I believe there's so much more you want to do to me."
Both men were still standing. Greg's anxiety built back up inside him after he had said that, his legs began to feel wobbly and his breathing sped up the slightest. He was beginning to panic. What if you said the wrong thing? Yes, of course he wanted to kiss you. Look at how his mannerisms changed around you, but maybe not as far as that...
The next thing he knew, Mycroft was at the side of him, repeating his actions from the other night. He cupped Greg's cheek with his hand and turned his face towards him, stroking his thumb over Greg's cheekbone and leaning down to his face and planting a light, soft kiss on his lips. He pulled back, smiling, a genuine smile. "And you have things you want to do to me..." Mycroft whispered, raising his free hand to tilt Greg's head back a little, running his thumb over his lips. He leaned forward and kissed Greg again, with a little added pressure this time. Greg parted his lips against Mycroft's and Mycroft did the same. Their tongues searching the other's mouth, savouring what they taste like together, trying to memorise as much as they could of each other.
Greg soon found himself pushed up against the wall by a tall, dark haired male, moaning into his mouth as they kissed. The other mans hands were down his trousers, pleasure surging through his body as his cock was being gently caressed. His hands were attached to the back of Mycroft's neck, lightly scraping his nails over his skin. He tried to resist bucking his hips, but sometimes it was too much and he couldn't help it. He'd end up grinding against Mycroft's thigh and Mycroft would try and calm him down. It wouldn't last long, he'd eventually start again and Mycroft just gave up in the end and allowed him to grind.
Not long after, Greg reached the highest point of pleasure and came over Mycroft's hand. Mycroft cleaned his hand on a spare shirt Greg threw at him as Greg rearranged his clothing and made sure he didn't look like he'd just been tossed off by a Sociopath's Brother.
Greg was still making sure none of his clothes were creased as he saw Mycroft staring at him out the corner of his eye. He look up at him, "What?" he asked, feeling a bit anxious.
The corners of Mycroft's lips threatened a smile, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that."
Greg couldn't help but grin like a teenage boy, knowing that Mycroft had fantasised about touching Greg for longer than 5 days made him warm inside. "How long?"
"Ever since we first met. I saw you and something obscene happened inside me. I didn't understand at first, but eventually I figured it out and I realised I liked you. That I wanted you, to myself."
"Well, that's good then. You have me now."
"Yes, it seems I do." The smile that was previously threatening to appear finally allowed itself to take over the lower half of Mycroft's delicate face. Mycroft stepped a couple of feet closer to Greg and cupped his chin with his hand, lifting it upwards slightly and chastely kissing him on the lips. "I've got to go, but I shall ring you as soon as I can sneak away from business for 5 minutes." He stroked the back of his knuckles lightly down the side of Greg's face before heading the to door. "Speak soon, my love." Greg nodded in response before Mycroft made a swift exit and left.
Greg just stood there, smiling smugly to himself. He had just received a hand job from Sherlock Holmes' brother. Let's see how long it takes him to work this out.