Mycroft stood in front of his full-length mirror faced with an unfamiliar sight. The Mycroft he saw in front of him and the Mycroft he knew were two completely different people. He was used to obscenely expensive three-piece suits and shiny shoes. He could even handle the occasional hospital gown, for his job was not always a safe one. He was not, however, used to tight navy blue jumpers and even tighter jeans. Anthea had bought him his clothes, as always, and given them to him on his way out of the office. Just how she had known he had a date that night was a mystery he'd rather not know the answer to.

As he stared at himself in the mirror, his horror slowly fading, he was secretly glad his brilliant assistant had done this for him. Although he didn't love the clothes, he would rather feel ridiculous than look ridiculous tonight. He reminded himself of just how much Anthea deserved a raise.

He called for his car and left his flat soon afterwards. His policy was to always be early rather than late, and this was no different. Gregory arrived soon afterwards at the restaurant, looking around with wide eyes. He was glad to notice Gregory was wearing similar attire, although the clothes looked a million time better on Greg than himself, Mycroft though.

Greg made his way to the table and sat across from Mycroft. 'The man looks stunning, even when he's dressed casually. Scratch that, especially when he's dressed casually. Wish I could look like that….'

"Hi, Mycroft," he said shyly. 'Hi? What is wrong with you, Greg?' he thought.

"Hello, Gregory. I'm glad you're here. You look stunning, as always." Mycroft berated himself for being too forward, but Gregory smiled widely.

"What are you on about? You're the one who's always gorgeous." Greg started a bit as he realized what he had just said, then calmed again as the man across from him blushed. It really was a beautiful color on him, one that brought out the blue in his eyes.

The men ordered a platter of sushi and things of the sort, and ate while enjoying nice conversation. It wasn't nearly as awkward as either men thought it would be, and they were relieved. Greg tried as hard as he could to not over think what he was saying. Mycroft tried not to be too closed off and cold as he knew he could be. At the end of the meal (and after quiet a few glasses of wine on either side) they were laughing openly and were completely relaxed.

"… and he cocked an eyebrow and said, 'What a sight! Now where should I put these blinds?'" Mycroft burst out with giggles covered by the palm of his hand at the punchline to Gregory's joke. Greg though it was endlessly adorable. Throughout the date they had shared jokes which increased in smuttiness as the meal went along. Greg knew quiet a few nasty jokes from his time in the Academy and Mycroft mostly listened and laughed. A few glasses of wine ago he would have looked at the older man disdainfully. That, however, was a few glasses of wine ago.

Mycroft paid the bill again and Gregory still felt the need to put up a fight, even if he had already seen it coming. It was an endearing quality, Mycroft noticed, that Gregory refused to come quietly. Suddenly Mycroft's brain was filled with entirely inappropriate images stemmed from that phrase. This wasn't something that happened often as he wasn't a vulgar person in nature, but thinking of Greg not coming quietly was slowly turning his face purple with repressed giggles.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Gregory suspiciously.

Thinking it was hardly appropriate to tell him, Mycroft settled with the classic, "Nothing…" Gregory chuckled at that.

Soon they both found themselves outside, a large black SUV parked in the street. They both got in, and Mycroft tapped the dividing glass twice. Then they were off, probably headed to Greg's place. The car ride was very interesting. They sat on opposite ends of the seat but slowly inched closer and closer whenever they though they could do it subtly. Although they barely spoke, their silence wasn't awkward and their minute touches spoke louder than anything they could say.

Mycroft was completely unused to these sort of situations. Was he supposed to make chit chat? Sit quietly? All he knew was that he desperately wanted to kiss Gregory, to touch his skin and feel his heartbeat. These were desires the minor government official would never normally express to himself, but he had had far too much to drink and the alcohol was viciously taking effect. He slowly crawled his hand across the leather seat to casually brush against Gregory's, feeling very unsure about himself but daring nonetheless.

Greg was slowly going crazy, a bit more intoxicated than his partner. He was openly staring at Mycroft now, reveling in how glorious he looked with a bit of moonlight shining in his hair. His skin looked even paler; his hair less vibrant but still beautiful. Truthfully, Greg had been a little scared at the thought of being with a man, of not actually wanting Mycroft. Now all of that was gone. Because damn it all if Mycroft Holmes was not the most wonderful sight Greg had ever seen. As Mycroft's hand accidentally brushed his, he grabbed those long, almost spindly, pale fingers with his own rough, calloused ones.

They intertwined fingers and Mycroft finally stopped looking out the window and met Gregory's gaze. When his blue eyes met the other man's soft brown ones, he felt a violent spark, like what they talk about in movies. He had never thought of himself as a romantic, passionate man. In fact, he was really truly lazy when it came down to it. But now, he wanted to be everything Gregory ever wanted - ever needed in his life.

At the surprising and overwhelming flood of emotions, Mycroft leaned forward. Then Greg leaned forwards. As the car drove along the deserted roads, bathed in moonlight, Gregory and Mycroft's lips met. The kiss was tender and careful at first, both parties not wanting to go to quickly and scare each other off. Mycroft's lips were heavenly soft against the detective's, and he was trying his hardest not to attack Gregory with his mouth. Greg didn't hold back, however, and soon both men were panting and clutching at clothes and pulling at hair. When the stopped to catch their breath, the lust in their eyes was apparent.

A different night, a little less wine, different company might have driven these two men to be more sensible. But when they arrived at Greg's apartment he invited Mycroft in between lusty kisses. And Mycroft certainly didn't say no.