It seems I'm getting a fair deal of readers so I decided to update! Hope you'll enjoy Mycroft's chapter. Established Mystrade.
Mycroft Holmes
Clothes, From, My
The Detective Inspector fell over the threshold gracelessly and spread water drops all over the rather pricey wallpaper in Mycroft's hall. Mycroft frowned and scanned Lestrade's state. Clothes practically soaked from the pouring rain outside, mud on his shoes, and the grey hair wet and spiky. Greg looked delicious.
"We better get you out of those dripping garments, or you'll catch a cold, dear." Greg looked up and a cocky grin appeared on his damp face.
"Is that an order, My?"
"It can be one," Mycroft answered coolly and returned to the drawing room with the blazing fire and the thick rug on the floor, knowing Greg would follow.
Myth, Rooms, Clef
"What…what are you doing?" a breathless Greg whispered and lifted his head to look along his sweaty, post-orgasm body and better see Mycroft who purposely moved a finger over the naked hip exposed to him.
"I'm drawing a clef," he replied with a sure tone and made the last curve of his invisible G-clef. The beauty of controlled tones and a satisfied lover made him share a genuine smile with Greg.
"Did we actually do all that?" Greg asked and his cheeks were tinted with red, as were his bruised lips. So calm now, so wild before.
"I believe the chaos we left behind is proof enough. We fucked in all my rooms until we finally came in here and…came in here," Mycroft laughed and felt Greg fondly run a hand through his hair.
"It was your fault, important official. You tricked me like Dionysus in the myth. Tempted me with wine and ecstasy," Greg sighed and Mycroft gently bit into the clef that couldn't be seen.
Comfort, Hem, Fly
Mycroft shifted in his seat and wanted to look at his computer but a certain phone call had put an end to his efficiency.
"Oh, God! I'm so hard. I want you here, Mycroft. Want to feel you clench around me!"
Lucky for Mycroft he was the only passenger on this flight, though it was unfortunate he had to fly away on a day when Greg seemed particularly horny.
"Gregory, I will return tomorrow. No matter what the embassy says, I'm coming home tomorrow." It was all Mycroft could offer as comfort and a raspy breath was heard from the phone.
"That's not good enough. I need you now, love. I'm touching myself."
Mycroft's cock twitched against tailored trousers and he made sure Greg could hear his hem.
"What if I say some highly crude words and you do too, and we both do obscene things to our bodies?" Mycroft proposed and was already reaching into his trousers.
How about John Watson next? See you then and review if you are kind.