"John, you should count yourself lucky that Sherlock doesn't care about pop culture. Does he even pay attention during your movie nights?"
Greg's change of subject caught John off guard and the doctor stared at him for moment. "Not really. He either psychoanalyzes the characters, tells me who did it after the first 5 minutes, or wanders off to do an experiment and doesn't even spend more than a few seconds with his eyes on the screen." John had given up after the first few weeks. There was no way that he was going to convince Sherlock of the value of pop culture, even in terms of the cases. He thought he may have finally won the battle when they nearly missed solving a crime committed by a Star Wars fanatic but John saved the day by knowing the name of the character the suspect thought he was. Sherlock pouted for days that JOHN had solved the case instead of him.
But ten minutes into the movie he got up, walked out and never came back for the rest of the night. John just rolled his eyes and enjoyed his own movie. No sense in giving up everything he enjoyed just because Sherlock was being a bit of a twat. He loved the man but it was frustrating when he felt the need to tear down the things John enjoyed. He chuckled, thinking back to a time when Sherlock used to taunt him for enjoying sex. Now Sherlock enjoys it as much as he does, possibly even more.
"Earth to John. Where did I lose you to? don't tell me you were thinking about sex. I have heard enough about your sex life. "
"No nothing like that. I was just thinking about my poor attempts at movie nights at 221B. There's a reason that I have go to most films by myself. So much more relaxing when he's not there."
Greg smirked at his companion's plight. "That is one problem I don't have. I cannot even imagine what their childhood must have been like. Do you know that Mycroft had never seen a Disney film before Liam was born? I was interesting watching a 4 year old and a 38 year old experience a classic film for the first time. Mycroft enjoyed it though so we have instituted our own movie night, generally some classic film that he has never seen. Sometimes, when Grandmummy or Grandmum have the boys for the weekend, we will do a marathon of one series or style of film. That was what led to my conundrum a year ago."
"Film sex, Greg? Boring." John had had sex watching films numerous times. In fact, the first time he had received head was when he attended a James Bond film with a mate from secondary. They spent more time investigating each other than seeing what kind of mischief Bond was finding himself in.
"Not film sex. Something more, well, something odder. Sometimes Mycroft gets these ideas. Usually from something on a movie or on the telly if I ever manage to switch it from the news. Then he begs, pesters and cajoles me until I give in. Not that I don't enjoy it. I just like watching him beg.
"The first time I thought something might be brewing inside that massive brain of his was when we watched Toy Story 3 with the boys. Every time Woody came on screen, this weird haze would fall over Mycroft's face. I could not imagine that he was getting aroused by a kiddo show so I didn't give it much thought though I raised my eyebrows at him several times throughout the show, trying to ask the question without the boys figuring it out. Liam is old enough now that he kind of understands that there are things parents do in their bedroom that he doesn't want to know about. Thomas is, thankfully, still blissfully unaware.
"The next weekend the boys went to spend with Grandmummy at the Holmes estate. You have been there. With the horses, and the library, and the acres upon acres of grass and trees and hills, the boys have a fabulous time. They love those weekends and honestly so do I. I love my boys dearly but sometimes you just need a break.
"We were having dinner Friday night, getting ready for our quiet weekend in, when we heard on the news that it was supposed to be rather stormy all day Saturday. Thinking that sounded like a good excuse to curl up in bed and just watch movies all day, I suggested the idea of a Clint Eastwood movie marathon. Mycroft agreed heartily which should have been another warning for me.
"I ran out to the store and picked up several, probably 5 or 6. Enough to give us a good selection and keep us occupied for most of the day, even if we decided against one or two. With popcorn, tea, and other various snacks, healthy of course since Sherlock always has to mock his weight and believe it or not Mycroft is quite sensitive about it, we pulled the covers up and watched the DVDs.
"It had been a long time since I had watched any of these films. Westerns were always a favourite of my father's and he had long talked about going to Texas or somewhere similar to see what it was really like, even when we reminded him that the films took place many years ago and the places were probably rather modern by now. He never did make it there but the films still held a nostalgic place in my heart.
"Aside from a few comments about historical inaccuracies, because of course he would know the entire political history of the United States as well as every other former and current colony of the commonwealth, Mycroft stayed relatively quiet. He's not as bad as Sherlock but he generally has snide remarks and comments to be made throughout films.
"We were well into our fourth film of the day, having paused only for bathroom and meal breaks, when he finally brought up the topic that must have been brewing for several weeks, 'Gregory, I think you would make a rather dashing Sheriff.'"
"'Um, thank you?' I replied, unsure of where he was going with that. True, most of the movies had some big sheriff or other form of law and order, and technically that would be the old west version of my job but I just don't see myself in the ten gallon hat. At least, I did not at the time."
"Oh god," John moaned. He knew where this was going.
"Yeah. Pretty much. Anyway, we watched for a few minutes before he asked, 'If I was to procure an outfit for you, would you wear it just for me here in the privacy of our bedroom.' While role playing was never a part of our repertoire before that moment, I didn't see the harm. What could he be suggesting? A Stetson and a fake gun? I could deal with that.
"Another week passed and the next Saturday I returned home from a case, worn out, partially from chasing you and Sherlock half way across London. I don't understand why you two must run EVERY WHERE. We have cabs in this city for a reason.
"When I got home, there was a package sitting on the table with a note that read, 'Put these on and meet me in the bedroom. –M' It was very late, he already had the boys in bed so I just opened the package, thinking nothing of it. As I pulled out the fabric within, my eyes bulged and I had to do a double take. Sighing, I realized that I had agreed to this after all, even if I had not been completely aware of what it was that I was agreeing to.
"I slipped out of my clothes and dropped them in the basket in the laundry room. Returning to the kitchen, starkers, I prayed the boys would not wake up and ask why Daddy was walkiung around the kitchen with no clothes on. I took a deep breath and put on the outfit, snapping the straps and hoping I did not look too ridiculous. While he had never done it before, I became worried that this was some sort of practical joke and he was just going to laugh at me as I walked into the room.
"I climbed the stairs to the bedroom, uncomfortably aware of just how ridiculous I must look, and pushed myself to just walk straight into the room, determined to get the humiliation over as quickly as possible. However, as I took in the sight in front of me, I realized that, at least in Mycroft's eyes, I did not look ridiculous at all.
"He was sitting there in bed, wearing nothing but a cowboy hat, while I stood in the doorway wearing... Well, I was wearing assless chaps okay? Soft brown leather, covering the fronts of my legs and absolutely nothing else."
John could not hold in his laughter, banging his fist on the table while his laughs came out in big booming "HA"s as opposed to the more reserved giggling that Greg was used to seeing from him in inappropriate locations like hospitals and crime scenes. "Please tell me there are pictures," he managed between gasps.
"Of course there are no pictures. I'm a Detective Inspector for Scotland Yard and he's the British Government. Did we learn nothing from the Irene Adler scenario that you should never have naked pictures of yourself or any type of compromising photo? No, they only exist in our memories and as far as I'm concerned those are two brains too many. The sex however, that will live in my mind for eternity.
"You probably could have guessed by now that Mycroft typically prefers to bottom. Not sure if it is a side effect of his career, something with his personality, or just the way our relationship works. I have never questioned it as I tend to be more of a top myself though I'm happy to bottom when the opportunity presents itself. That night was one such opportunity.
"He had me pinned against the wall so quickly that I still have no memory of him getting off the bed. Maybe my embarrassment was clouding my brain, but I'm pretty sure that one moment he was on the bed and the next he's in front of me, shutting our bedroom door, and pinning me to it. He captured my mouth in a rather brutal kiss, my head smacking against the door with the force of his lips on mine. He grabbed one of my legs, hitching it over my hip and I hissed as almost immediately one well lubed finger penetrated my entrance. As I said, I don't bottom often so I take a lot of prep work. I don't know if that was why he decided to surprise me with it, all I know is that prep did not need to last long that night, as I was completely worked up by his cock rubbing against mine, his tongue in my mouth and his fingers in my arse.
"Within only minutes, he had my legs wrapped around his hips, his cock buried to the hilt inside me, and his hands supporting me by my arse as he thrust with utter abandon. I was crying out against him, overwhelmed by the fairly uncommon sensation of being completely filled and it was not long before he was emptying inside me. Once he had slipped from me and returned my legs to the ground, he fell to his knees and sucked until I came as well.
It was hot and dirty and I would do it all over again, except for one minor thing."
The tears running down John's face made him look as if he had just heard the funniest thing of his life, which may well have been true. He managed to control himself long enough to ask, "Please tell me the one change has to do with the assless chaps." He descended into giggles once more upon uttering the phrase.
"No," Greg replied, blushing furiously. "It would be that when he came, Mycroft yelled 'Ride 'em Cowboy'. I can never watch another Western film again."