"You should wear shorts more often."
Mycroft opened an eye and looked beside him where Gregory lay with an adorable, contagious grin on his face. He let out of a huff of a chuckle, eyeing him curiously.
"And what reason would that be for, Gregory?" he asked softly, curling a bit closer to the warm body next to him. His lover really did say some of the strangest things while he was still recovering from their intimate activities. He watched as the older man propped himself up on his elbows and gaze over at him.
"Your legs, Myc," he prompted, his brown eyes shifting down to stare at them. Mycroft felt a self-conscious pang and his cheeks flushed with embarrassed heat.
"Honestly, Gregory. Not in my line of work." There's no way he would be caught dead wearing anything other than his tailored suits. Even his 'casual wear' was dressier than most people's formal wear.
"Around here, then," he said, his voice almost a whine.
"I don't understand why-" he started, but faded off as he was suddenly lying on his own. He watched as Gregory moved down the bed and got in between his legs. Instantly, he moved to prop himself up, his eyebrows shooting up.
Instead of going for what he assumed the older man was wanting to jump back into (which would normally be ridiculous but for two older men they had rather active libidos it seemed), Gregory grabbed onto one of his legs gently and pulled it up to sit his ankle on his shoulder. Turning his head, he began pressing kisses to his calf. The kisses were slow and affectionate, and he was clearly taking his time. He could feel every curve of those wonderful lips on his skin. Why, Mycroft couldn't quite figure out. He watched, trying to figure out the obsession. His legs were nothing special. In fact, they were rather scrawny, pale, and twiggy. Mycroft honestly almost hated them more than he did his midsection. Yet the other man seemed enthralled by them.
"They're gorgeous," Gregory whispered against his skin, running his hand along the outside, over his ankle, and up his thigh. Mycroft couldn't hold back the content sigh that escaped him, and he rested back into the mattress. It was all very soothing; he had to admit. "You've no idea, Myc. No idea how lovely they are."
"Mmmm… I'm beginning to get the idea," he muttered in return, feeling a flutter in his chest. "But feel free to continue showing me." Only Gregory had ever had him feel like this. He felt cared for, and loved, with the Detective Inspector. There were no ulterior motives here, no end game, and no lies.
He almost let out a soft noise of protest when his leg was lowered back onto the bed, but it turned into a smile when all Gregory did was shift to his other leg. He started the same, slow kissing routine as he'd done on the first, and Mycroft sighed happily. Yes, he would let Gregory praise his legs all he desired if he got to feel like this.
The kisses made their way up to his knee, straying further than he had done on the other leg, causing the comforting feeling to get a little more heated. Mycroft opened his piercing blue eyes and gazed down at the man in front of him. Their eyes locked in silent communication, and that infectious, mischievous grin returned to Gregory's face. Mycroft mirrored it.
"What?" he asked, almost lightheartedly, his heart rate escalating. Gregory chuckled.
"Nothing, love." Straightening his back again, he continued his kissing routine, as well as massaging his calves gently. Mycroft let his eyes flutter closed, and he just enjoyed the sensations. If he desired to put a name to it, he would say that Gregory seemed to be worshipping his legs a bit. It was… nice. He prayed he would never want to stop.