The first of a two parter, because I just couldn't stop typing and it was getting far too long to be a drabble. It doesn't get so far in this part, but a heads up, this is going to be the most NSFW plot I've written so far (though it'll be heavily more so in the second part that will be uploaded tomorrow).
This is a result of me being obsessed with Mark Gatiss' legs and thinking that Greg damn well would be too. ;)

The last time Greg was so eager for something, he had been ready to propose to the love of his life. Maybe, in comparison to something as huge as getting engaged to the man he was spending the rest of his life with, this was peanuts, but regardless. He could barely contain his excitement (and quite frankly, his arousal), throughout the day. As he tried focusing on paperwork, his eyes kept glancing at the fancy black box he'd set beside his desk, and thinking about the contents inside…

It took every ounce of self-control not to leap off the couch later that night when Mycroft got home from work. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, he strode through to the front door with a smile, pulling the younger man into a hug and kiss, as he did rather often.

"Welcome home, love," he whispered, gazing up at his other half's eyes. He got a warm smile in return, and another kiss.

"I am glad to be so," Mycroft said sincerely, before hanging up his umbrella and heavy coat. Before his partner could make his way towards the kitchen for tea, Greg grabbed his hand and tugged him upstairs toward their bedroom.

"Gregory?" Mycroft started to question, blinking in confusion as he was pulled to the edge of the bed and made to sit down.

"I have something for you," Greg grinned, eyes shining with excitement. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, watching as the older man went to retrieve the box he'd kept looking at all day long. His stomach was fluttering as he knelt back down in front of his partner. He did not open the box, though. Not yet.

Slowly, Greg began to run his hands down Mycroft's leg, starting up at the knee and making his way down to the ankle. Mycroft hummed softly, enjoying the sensation, even if he was still terribly confused as to what was going on. Then, Greg began untying his dress shoe, pulling the laces apart slowly, before slipping it off and setting it to the side. He repeated this entire motion on his other leg. Then, he slipped his hands up the leg opening, pushing his trousers up as far as they would allow. Leaning in, he began to press soft, slow kisses to Mycroft's shin as his hands moved to tug off his socks, where they were set with his shoes. Only after Mycroft's feet were bare and his legs exposed up to the knee did Greg look up at his husband.

"Gregory?" Mycroft questioned again slowly, blinking at the look in those dark brown orbs he loved so much. He could pick up the hints of arousal easily, and it caused a slow burning to start in the pit of his own stomach. All Greg did was smile, before leaning back to resume his kissing. His hands rested against Mycroft's leg, slowly kneading the muscles in a massage. It pulled a happy noise from the politician's throat, his eyes fluttering closed. Greg continued this for a moment before letting go and opening the box.

The heels that he pulled out had been quite a difficult choice to make. He ended up choosing a pair that was black satin with an open toe and a strap that wrapped around the ankle. Climbing up the heel was a golden creeping flower design, and the ankle strap had a royal blue ribbon threaded through it that ended in a noticeable, but not overbearingly large bow (the same blue that, conveniently, Mycroft had chosen for a tie earlier that morning). Licking his lips, his heart pounding, Greg slipped the heel onto Mycroft's foot, gazing at the way it slid on rather perfectly. Then, he moved up to fasten the strap, gazing at the little muscles on the other man's ankle as it adjusted.

Mycroft's eyes flew open wide, and he looked down at what was going on. His mouth dropped open in surprise, Greg looking up just in time to catch the reaction. His grin widened.

"You remember our conversation about how much I worship your legs?" Greg asked deeply, which was the only explanation that was needed. The older man watched as his husband's blue eyes grew a little darker as his pupils dilated. Yes, he definitely caught his drift. Heart rate escalating a bit, Greg broke their locked gaze and went back to the task, getting the other heel on as well. Then, he rested back on his haunches and gazed up at Mycroft.

Who, as Greg reached out to grasp his knees, lifted one of his legs and pressed his now heel-clad foot square against Greg's chest. Greg blinked, glancing down, and then with no hesitation, was shoved to the floor. He fell back onto his elbows and his head jerked up. It was his turn to have surprise written all over his face. Mycroft stood, now towering over his husband, a smirk starting to spread onto his face. It was an expression that shot heat straight down to Greg's groin.

"Well now, Detective Inspector," Mycroft finally spoke again, his voice having dropped a fair amount as well. "Seems to me you've been up to no good."