Chapter Twenty-Eight: Feeling Good


Beta: chasingriver

Chapter Title: Feeling Good [Cover] by Muse

Warnings: M/M frottage

Author's Note: I've been getting a few questions about The Living End so I thought I'd write a bit about them here.

The Living End is a pop-punk alternative rock band from Melbourne, Australia. They're a bit like Green Day and have three members. They're one of my favourite bands and I recommend the following songs if you're interested; How Do We Know?, Second Solution, Prisoner of Society, Roll On, Waiting For The Silence, White Noise, and Who's Gonna Save Us? I'd recommend more but the author's note is long enough.

Anywho, enjoy the chapter!

{Dreamer}


As soon as they got to BJ's, Greg was out of the car, pushing through the various other teenagers already there. He went straight to the kitchen to get himself a beer, BJ appearing before him.

'Hey, Lestrade,' BJ said.

Greg blinked, looking up at him. 'Uh... hi, BJ.'

BJ smirked. 'Not so bitchy when Mikey ain't around, huh?'

'Um... well...'

BJ clapped him on the shoulder. 'Hey, I get it; you wanted to impress Mikey.'

Greg felt colour rush to his face, skin burning as he stared at BJ. 'N-No I didn't.' BJ just stared at him. 'No, serious; I don't fancy him, alright?'

'Uh-huh,' BJ said as he collected money from other people walking in.

Usually you had to pay five or ten quid when you walked in. Stewart, BJ's older brother, worked in the family brewery and could get all kinds of alcohol for free, but the Masters brothers still liked to make some money.

'Look, Lestrade,' BJ finally said after pocketing about forty quid, 'I've seen you stalk plenty of guys at parties, alright? You're not exactly subtle when you're lookin' for somethin' to root.' Greg blushed again. 'But I saw you and Mikey together, you can't lie to me.'

'I ain't lying!' Greg insisted.

BJ snorted. 'Whatever you say, Lestrade. You and Mikey will make it official soon enough. Invite me to the wedding, yeah? I did technically introduce you.'

Greg scowled and the other teenager chuckled, sipped his drink, and walked into the living room. Greg downed his beer before quickly pouring another and heading outside to have a smoke.

{oOo}

After two cigarettes Greg went back inside, grabbing another drink before joining Dimmock, Molly, Joe and Dylan. The latter two had shown up about ten minutes earlier and Greg was thankful for their presence. With Joe and Dylan around, Dimmock and Molly wouldn't say anything about Mycroft.

That didn't stop them from giggling and whispering to each other whenever Greg checked his phone or glanced up when the front door opened.

Dimmock was leaning against the wall with one arm wrapped around Molly, the other circled around a plastic cup. Molly was drinking her usual lemonade and kept smiling over the bottle at Greg.

'What?' Greg growled when Joe and Dylan started chatting about football.

'Nothing, nothing,' Molly shrugged, but she was still smiling.

'I'm gettin' sick of you two,' Greg sighed.

'Now, let's not be nasty,' Dimmock said, Greg flipping him off.

'What are you two bitching about?' Dylan asked.

Greg stared at Dimmock, who smirked a bit before saying, 'Nothing.'

Joe and Dylan looked between them before going back to their football discussion, leaving Greg to glare at Dimmock and his girlfriend.

{oOo}

Greg was on his fifth beer when he spotted Mycroft. He cut himself off halfway through his sentence, making both Dimmock and Molly turn to see what had his attention.

Mycroft was getting a beer from the keg and smiled when he saw Greg. He had those tight black leather trousers on that Greg loved so much, with a white-and-black checked belt. His white shirt, that had open buttons about halfway down, was tucked into his trousers, and a midnight blue velvet jacket wrapped around his torso perfectly.

Greg swallowed thickly, eyes practically popping as they roamed from Mycroft's messy auburn hair, down to his eyes (black eyeliner and dark blue eyeshadow), past his absolutely kissable lips, to the leather necklaces hanging around his neck, down his slim form, fucking gorgeous arse, and finally down his slim legs and to the black boots with the silver buckles undone.

'And we've lost him,' Dimmock hummed.

'Fuck off,' was Greg's reply before he downed his drink and pushed past Joe. Dylan had already flitted off with some blonde chick, and Joe had his eyes set on a brunette in the corner, so Greg was confident they wouldn't see him wander off with Mycroft.

Greg entered the kitchen, where Mycroft was refilling his cup.

'Hello, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled.

'Mikey,' Greg said, pouring a fresh drink.

'I fancy a cigarette; you?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh, yeah,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft smiled and led the way through the house, eventually stepping through the door. Greg let it shut behind him as he and Mycroft descended the back steps and walked across the paved area.

Mycroft pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered Greg one, but Greg wanted something else, thank you very much. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft and tugged him in, Mycroft's gasp turning into a moan when Greg's lips pressed against his.

Greg kissed slightly harder when Mycroft stuffed his cigarettes away, arms winding around Greg's slim waist. Greg felt a tongue press against his bottom lip, stroking and practically begging entrance. Well, who was Greg to deny Mycroft what he wanted?

He peeled his lips open and grunted when Mycroft's tongue dove in, stroking against his own before tangling with the wet organ. Greg moaned, his tongue licking over Mycroft's piercing, his tastebuds.

They'd moved closer together and Greg could feel Mycroft pressed against him, the other teenager's cologne adding to the delicious haze of lust that had descended. He didn't know how someone could smell that delicious, but God did Mycroft smell fucking good.

Greg's hands moved from Mycroft's back, brushing over the soft velvet of his jacket before pushing up. He stroked Mycroft's back again, feeling hot skin beneath the thin cotton of Mycroft's shirt.

He moved further down as his head was tilted, Mycroft dominating the kiss and thoroughly exploring his mouth. Finally his hands rested on Mycroft's goddamn glorious arse. He ran his palms over both globes before digging his fingers in and grabbing.

Mycroft gasped as he was hauled forward, Greg crushing the non-existent gap between them. At the same time he pushed forward, rutting hard against Mycroft's crotch.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft moaned, pressing kisses to Greg's neck and nipping softly at the skin he found.

Greg grunted in response, enjoying Mycroft's actions and firm arse too much to bother talking. It'd been too long since he'd had a proper grope; Mycroft didn't mind snogging him at school, but he preferred his uniform to remain intact.

Mycroft and Greg were rutting shamelessly against each other, and Mycroft's mouth had moved back to Greg's lips, sucking and nipping back on the bottom one before his tongue plunged back inside.

Greg groaned loudly, fingers digging into Mycroft's leather-clad arse to pull their bodies together. Mycroft once again ripped their lips apart when the need for oxygen became too great. He buried his face in Greg's neck, breathing heavily as his cock strained against his trousers.

Pausing, Greg pressed soft kisses to the top of Mycroft's head before moving down to his cheek, his ear. 'Why don't we move this inside?' he asked softly. 'Like, to a bed?'

Mycroft chuckled and drew away, blue eyes darkened with lust. 'Not yet, Gregory.'

Greg groaned. 'Why not?'

'Why rush a good thing?' Mycroft murmured, the same words he'd said so many weeks ago.

Greg sighed and kissed Mycroft again. 'You're killing me, you know?'

'Anticipation can have its own rewards, Gregory.'

'What the fuck does that mean?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft chuckled again and kissed him softly, lips warm and gentle against Greg's own. He'd just pulled back to say something when the back door banged open, three guys and two girls stumbling out laughing.

Mycroft linked his fingers with Greg's and tugged him slightly away, leaving the other teenagers to shout and laugh at each other on the paved area. Mycroft dragged Greg around the side of the house, walking across the concrete driveway.

Greg gasped when he was forced back, stumbling until his body connected with the cold brick wall. Mycroft pressed them back together, fingers tearing at Greg's belt as they kissed and licked each other's mouths.

'M-Mycroft,' Greg whimpered as his zipper was torn down, boxers shoved aside so Mycroft's cold, soft hand could pull his erection free.

'Un-zip me,' Mycroft ordered, lips moving to tug at Greg's ear. Greg groaned and did as asked, fingers shaking as his neck was assaulted by Mycroft's skilful tongue.

He finally managed to get Mycroft's own erection free and groaned again when his hands were batted away, Mycroft's long fingers quickly wrapping around both their shafts. He gave a long tug, and though it was a bit hard without lube, it still sent shivers of pleasure through Greg's body.

Greg's hands moved back to Mycroft's arse, squeezing the covered cheeks and dragging the auburn-haired teen closer as he himself thrust forward. Mycroft's hand felt glorious on his shaft, his cock even better, and Greg grunted as his lips were caught in another rough, passionate, absolutely filthy kiss.

Greg didn't know how anyone could kiss this well; Mycroft used just the right amount of tongue, teeth, and lips, even his panting turned Greg on. Well, now wasn't the time to focus on that; Mycroft was jerking him off, jerking them off together, and Greg should be focused on that.

So he tugged Mycroft even closer, fingers kneading and digging into the genius' arse, hips twitching with each twist of Mycroft's wrist. He was groaning heavily as Mycroft's tongue licked and stroked his own, piercing dragging along his tastebuds and making Greg grunt.

Heat was fast pooling in Greg's gut, and his head was fuzzy from alcohol and Mycroft's kissing and Mycroft's cologne and Mycroft's... well, his head was fuzzy from Mycroft.

Mycroft's fingers gripped their cocks tightly, pulling from root to tip, thumb occasionally brushing through the liquid dribbling from both their slits. Greg whimpered as a particularly hard tug and push of hips had heat spiralling through his body and right down to his toes.

Mycroft's lips were hard, bruising, and soon they ripped away so the two could breath. Greg's head dropped back to rest against the cold bricks, swollen lips parted and each breath torn from his chest.

He could feel himself getting closer, could feel Mycroft getting closer too. The younger teen's hand was moving faster, grip becoming tighter, and breathing increasing that little bit more as his lips sucked back to form a hickey on Greg's neck.

'M-Mycroft...' Greg stuttered, trailing off into a moan as Mycroft bucked against him. 'F-Fuck, oh God,' he continued, 'fuck, you're so... guh... aaahh...'

'So... what?' Mycroft asked, breath washing over Greg's ear. 'Tell me, Greg.'

Greg moaned as Mycroft's thumb once again brushed over the head of his cock. Mycroft's other hand was gripping Greg's hip tightly, fingers digging in painfully as Mycroft jerked them off.

'Tell... me...' Mycroft said again, his order slightly off because of the little moan he gave between words.

'So... fucking... beautiful,' Greg choked out, back arching off the wall. 'P-Perfect- oh, God!'

Mycroft's hand was moving even quicker, Greg grunting, whimpering, and generally just making stupid noises. Mycroft wasn't much better but buried his face in Greg's neck, moans stifled by his shirt.

'God, you're hot,' Mycroft grunted. 'Dress up for... for me?'

'Uh-huh,' Greg nodded, admitting what he'd been denying since he left the house.

Mycroft's free hand moved, fingers digging into Greg's back before moving down to his arse. He gripped one cheek tightly and tugged Greg forward.

'Mycroft!' Greg practically shouted as he came, liquid spurting between them and dripping down their shirts, Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft moaned and bit hard into Greg's neck as he tugged him forward again, his own orgasm finally spilling from him, more come coating his sticky hand.

He milked their climaxes, hand slowing and avoiding their sensitive heads, as the two teenagers shook and panted against each other. Greg was now slumped heavily against the house, legs shaking and feeling weak. Mycroft was a heavy presence against him, entire body shaking slightly as he came down.

When Greg could think clearly he tugged Mycroft up, brown eyes meeting blue before their lips pressed together. They exchanged soft, lazy kisses until they broke apart again, Greg grinning stupidly and Mycroft chuckling.

'You don't need a bed to have a good time,' Mycroft commented as he drew back. He dug into his left pocket, eventually pulling out a squished packet of tissues. He did his best to clean them both up, but Greg's Living End shirt was stained, as well as Mycroft's own.

'Fuck you and your white shirts,' Greg grunted, wiping a thumb along one of the long stains above his bellybutton.

Mycroft chuckled and grabbed Greg's button-up shirt. He did a few of the buttons up. 'See? Problem solved.'

'Oh yeah, tell that to my mum.'

'Just throw your shirt into the washing machine after she's put your others in; she won't notice,' Mycroft said.

Greg raised an eyebrow. 'Hide a lot of come-covered shirts, do you?'

'I don't kiss and tell, Gregory dear.'

Greg snorted and made sure they were both zipped up before grabbing Mycroft. 'I'll take that cigarette now, Mycroft darling.'

Mycroft chuckled and allowed Greg to pull him back around the house.