Mycroft's POV

He decides that he will discuss the amendment he wishes to make to their agreement with John over dinner. He considers doing it while they are at the house one evening but decides it will probably be better to have that discussion somewhere semi public, if only for his peace of mind because he might be tempted to ask for the change to take place then and there, and not like it if his companion wishes to think about it or says no.

So he asks the doctor to dinner and then arrives a few minutes early because apparently he is a glutton for punishment.

When John walks out of the bathroom, having just showered and dressed for dinner, he finds heat pooling low in his stomach because the simple black slacks and polo shirt plus blue jacket looks damned good on him.

Right then. Even more reason to do this somewhere public-ish.

The soft kiss in greeting sends a different type of warmth through him.

The ride to the restaurant is pleasant in companionable silence, though nerves he would deny having make him jittery and it's only through through force of will it doesn't show outwardly.

Upon getting there, John escorts him in, same as he has plenty of other times and he has a flash of panic, considering for just the briefest moment to cancel this evening or come up with something work related to cancel it with.

You're a coward, the voice that often sounds like his brother taunts him, afraid to be honest with your goldfish?

He ignores it, and instead does the escorting to his usual table that he had reserved earlier in the day.

The waiter is with them immediately, asking what they would like to drink and he answers for both of them, as he has done plenty of times before.

"Is something wrong?" John queries once they are alone.

"No, there is nothing wrong," he answers, being truthful, because he's fairly certain that it's not wrong yet. "I wished to speak to you about our agreement, and make a minor amendment if you are open to it."

Arching a dark blonde brow at him in question, his companion doesn't ask aloud, letting him read the question in his expression.

"After we've ordered," he comments, not wanting to have it interrupted once he begins, as that would be rather embarrassing.

Nodding, the doctor doesn't push, instead the younger man looks inside the menu, querying, "What goes with the wine you ordered?"

Smiling, he lists off the items according to memory.

Barely a minute later their waiter returns with their bottle of wine and glasses. He pours it for both of them before asking what they would like for dinner and is careful about taking notes on their selections, making sure they know what their options are with each meal.

Once he's gone, he turns his attention to John, taking a deep breath to steady himself before stating, "I would like to amend our agreement to include myself as the one being penetrated. It has recently come to my attention that I might enjoy it."

The blonde doesn't blink as he processes that request. "That's doable."

It takes him a minute to catch up, he wasn't actually expecting an answer so quickly. Mostly because he hadn't actually finished with his reasoning. For some reason, he was expecting it to take a bit more to convince him, so for it to be so simple is startling.

Does that mean that John's thought about it in the past? He studies his companion for a bit, deciding that is an accurate assessment. The question then becomes how much has he thought about it? In what context even?

All of the research has shown Three Continents Watson to be versatile, but wasn't sure how much of that versatility would apply to this situation.

"You should give yourself some time to think about it more now that you've asked," John suggests with an affectionate smile. "After all, saying things aloud can sometimes change how that is perceived. Whether intentional or not doesn't really matter."

He nods, because he knows that is a definite fact. He's seen it happen plenty of times in meetings and when speaking with most people. He doesn't think it actually applies to him in this situation but he still appreciates the fact that his companion wants him to be certain beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The time spent until their dinner gets there is in silence. He's considering the fact John agreed so readily and whether he would still like to go through with that plan. He's also considering how to approach the topic of role play. Both for himself and for his companion. At this point, he's moderately certain it's another conversation they are definitely going to discuss before anything actually happens.

After all, he's not a fan of changes in his personal life without going as many details possible beforehand. Not that it always works. His brother has been the cause for most of the changes in his life that he wasn't expecting, both good and bad. Which according to most people he has listened to discuss their younger or older siblings, seems to be a moderately normal effect of said sibling.

Once dinner is on the table, they revert back into their normal dinner time conversation. Which is to say, they bounce between a wide variety of topics, most of which are not personal in any way, shape, or form. It's a pleasant evening, leaving him with an answer and more to consider.

They skip dessert as neither of them have room after finishing their meal.

The ride back to the house is just as quiet as the ride to the restaurant.

When they get there, John cups his face gently, kissing him long and slow before bidding him, "Goodnight, Mycroft, sweet dreams."

He's sure that he's blushing as his skin feels abnormally warm and pulled taut. "Goodnight John," he replies, voice lower than normal.

Oh yes, he has plenty of things to think about!

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