It was sunny and warm and wonderful out; a perfect setting for the day. Greg was enjoying his and Mycroft's time in Milan. He'd never been to Milan. What better way to experience it than on one's honeymoon?
Currently, they were stretched out on a boat, rocking lazily in the water. Mycroft was leaning with one arm propped on the edge, a book in his lap and his umbrella open and propped up behind him. His poor partner – not just partner, husband now – burned so easily in the sun that he couldn't go with out. His chest and feet were bare, but he still wore a nice pair of black trousers. Greg, on the other hand, was wearing nothing more than swim trunks and a pair of sunglasses. He sighed, grinning widely, and glanced over at the other man.
"Whatcha reading?" he asked lightheartedly, craning his neck to peer over at the younger man.
"Mmm?" Mycroft glanced up over the pages of his book. "Oh, it's an old Italian piece of literature; fables and the like. It was sitting in our suite."
"I bet I could give you something a lot more interesting to think about…" the older man said, leaning forward a bit. He had long since stopped wondering how Mycroft could do certain things, like reading fluent Italian. His husband was just a genius, and it was glorious..
"Is that so?" Mycroft asked, bookmarking his spot and shutting the book.
"Oh yeah. These lips," he nodded, pointing at his mouth. Mycroft arched an eyebrow.
"Yours lips, Gregory?" he asked, smirking.
"Naturally. I can kiss you so well you'll forget all about those Italian fables. About everything."
"How confident you are. Perhaps you should prove it to me," Mycroft said silkily, sitting up a bit straighter. He gazed at his husband with a challenging, sassy expression. Standing, Greg took the few careful steps over, closing the space between them on the boat. He was never one to back down from a challenge, especially when it involved anything intimate with Mycroft. He gazed down at the younger man, before bending at the waist and leaning down.
Mycroft tilted his head as if to meet the man's lips, practically batting his eyes at him, but the smirk he had previously worn grew even wider and he leaned to the side. Greg continued moving. His brown eyes flew open in surprise as he lost balance, yelping, and the next thing he knew he was in the water. Kicking his feet, he resurfaced and spun around to face the boat. Mycroft, still in the boat, was laughing, moving to lean back in his original position. Greg spit water out of his mouth and pouted a bit.
"Not cool, Myc," he said, reaching to grasp the edge of the boat a bit. Mycroft gazed down at him; pale eyes alight with amusement and love.
"Oh poor darling," the younger man cooed, with no sincerity at all. Greg poked his tongue out at him. He wasn't the least bit sorry, that was for sure.
"I am. I must be spoiled now. I could've drowned," Greg pretended to wail dramatically, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky. Mycroft shook his head and rolled his eyes at the older man's hysterics. Leaning forward slightly, he reached out with a slender hand and cupped Greg's cheek, stroking his wet, sun-kissed skin with his thumb.
"Oh husband mine," Mycroft said with much more care now. He smirked again. "Why don't you show me now?"
Mycroft leaned forward a bit more, and Greg pulled himself up a bit. Their lips connected in a gentle, meaningful kiss. Mycroft slid his fingers through Greg's damp, silvery hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss a bit. Reaching out with his other hand, Greg cupped the back of the younger man's neck to hold him in place. The kiss slowed, and Greg's lips curled into a grin against his husband's. Mycroft could sense something had changed, and an alarm went off in his head. Before he could react, though, Greg tugged, grinning brightly as they pulled away from each other.
There was another loud yelp, followed by a splash, as Mycroft Holmes was tugged out of the boat and into the water as well. Payback was glorious, no matter what consequences were sure to follow.