Both men savoured each other's mouths, gently sucking and nibbling on the other's lips and tongue. Lestrade could feel himself getting carried away with the moment and reached for Mycroft's head, running his strong hands through the soft hair. He'd never done anything like this before, and he tried to hold himself back, but the adrenaline fought this, spurring him on.
Mycroft himself could feel his crotch throbbing in his pinstripe trousers as he threw his umbrella to the floor and put his hand gently round the back of Greg's neck, the other hand on his chest, holding him down into the chair. His fingers scrunched through folds of fabric, itching to tear the shirt off of the detective, to claim his skin, feel it soft against his fingertips, touching the other man's toned torso.
Greg himself could feel the tension rising, heat flooding and blood rushing into his groin. As he felt himself harden, the hunger took over him and he cupped his hand around Mycroft's very evident erection. The strangeness of it all only pushed him further and he put pressure on to Mycroft with his palm, fingers gently rubbing in small circular motions.
This stirred some of Mycroft's raw, sexual energy and he rather aggressively pulled at Greg's shirt, bursting it open, ripping it at the collar. The fabric burnt Lestrade's neck, but the pain was forgotten almost instantly when Mycroft roared his name out loud in a fit of sudden passion, causing physical pain to his heart as it began to beat at a pace he thought medically impossible.
Grunts and moans pushed their way from the two men's throats as Lestrade forced himself out of the chair onto an unsuspecting Mycroft who fell to the floor, arms wrapped round Lestrade's strong back. He pushed his long, thin legs between Greg's, pressing his thigh against the detective inspector's crotch whilst beginning to pull the suit jacket and shirt off of him.
Lestrade took it upon himself to start undressing Mycroft. As he undid the buttons one by one he ran his hand through the tuft of chest hair, his finger trailing over Mycroft's nipples, causing him to buck his hips further towards Greg's.
Once the Holmes brother was shirtless, and Greg himself was stripped of his jacket and shirt, he turned his attention to the rest of Mycroft's clothes. Leaving trails of kisses down his throat and across his chest, he ran his tongue down his stomach, fingering the zip of the smart trousers, pulling it down and releasing some of the tension and pressure pushing down on Mycroft's crotch.
The detective's fingers lingered over the soft silk of Mycroft's underwear, before slipping one of them under the band and pulling them down, slowly slipping them over his throbbing crotch. He almost audibly gasped when he was given the pleasure of seeing the entire length of the British government, springing free. His mouth began to water, and Lestrade suddenly realised how desperately he wanted this and how thoroughly aroused he was.
A sudden burst of adrenaline rushed through him and he growled as he threw his head down to take the whole of Mycroft in his mouth. As the head hit the back of his throat he gagged, and Mycroft let out a loud, strained "Fuck…."clearly unconcerned about keeping up his dominant stance. He pulled sharply on the detective's hair, forcing him to stop what he was doing so the two were looking into each other's eyes.
Mycroft loosened the grip on Greg's hair as the detective pulled himself on top, smirking with intense pleasure as Greg positioned himself, eyes closing tight when Mycroft bucked his hips and pushed himself inside.
Greg let out a pained groan, but lowered himself onto Mycroft once again, slowly, before rising and lowering slightly faster. Mycroft moved with the rhythm, throwing his hands to Gregg's hips and pulling him down faster, harder, the slaps echoing round the empty room. The detective lowered his head to Mycroft's neck and gently bit along the freckled skin, running his tongue round and over his throat; his moans vibrating through Mycroft's body.
"Greg…" This and a few breathy moans were all he let out before he felt the release let himself relax against the floor. Greg screamed in pleasure as their orgasms came to a shuddering halt together. He barely had time to relax before Mycroft was up and getting dressed, collecting his umbrella and composing himself, smoothing down his suit jacket. He smiled softly at the detective, who lay confused on the floor still catching his breath.
"I'll be in touch." He left without saying another word. Greg slowly stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow and trying to clean up the mess they made. He had only just put his clothes on when he heard the door of the flat open. Greg ran his hand through his hair and put on his best smile before getting back to work.