Greg woke up with Mycroft's warm heavy weight pressed against him. Bare flesh on flesh. He could feel the gentle push of Mycroft's groin against his thigh and the soft hiss of his breath on Greg's shoulder. Greg could also smell the reassuring scent of warmth and aftershave and coconut mushrooms. He nuzzled a little closer in to Mycroft and ran a hand along the bigger boy's torso, enjoying the feel of his soft chest hair. Mycroft didn't stir, except to lean further towards Greg, a look of peaceful happiness on his face. Greg kissed the top of his head and smiled.
A few moments later there was a tentative knock at the door.
"Come in."
"Hello Gregory." Uncle Aloysius stayed in the doorway, filling it. "I was wondering if you boys would like some dinner?"
Greg moved slightly and propped himself up on his elbow, reluctantly losing the contact with Mycroft. He did actually feel rather hungry. And he was certain Mycroft would be too, once he woke up. The bigger boy rolled over on to his back, moving in to the space vacated by Greg. Greg could not help but notice the large bulge in the front of Mycroft's jeans. "That's because of me." He thought to himself.
"It's a nice feeling isn't it?" Aloysius Holmes smiled.
"Yeah." Greg smiled back blushing a little. He had forgotten that Mycroft's Uncle could read him like a book.
"What is?" Mycroft mumbled, arching up a little and scratching his belly.
"Nothing. Dinner's ready." Mycroft's belly gave a little growl and he bounced off the large bed. Suddenly realising he wasn't wearing a shirt. Greg noticed the blush creeping along Mycroft's broad shoulders. Aloysius Holmes diplomatically retreated.
"Five minutes boys!" The stairs creaked as the big man descended them. When Greg turned round, Mycroft had removed his jeans.
"What are you doing? Dinner's ready in five minutes."
"Getting changed. A gentleman cannot go to dinner in clothes he has slept in." Greg wasn't sure if Mycroft was serious or not. He presumed he was as Mycroft had pulled a pair of smart black trousers out of the wardrobe. Greg stood watching as Mycroft pulled the silky material up over his muscular thighs, tucking his semi-hard bulge inside them.
"Mycroft?" Greg slipped his jeans and boxers down to the floor.
"Yes?" Mycroft was rummaging in the Wardrobe for a shirt.
"Turn around." Obediently Mycroft turned and looked Greg up and down. Greg was naked; his clothes puddled at his feet, his hard cock brushing against his flat stomach. Mycroft let his trousers fall to the floor.
"I suppose we could be a few minutes late for dinner." Mycroft stepped forwards, out of his trousers, pushing his boxer shorts down as he moved and flicking them off with expert precision. Greg smiled and held out his arms, wrapping himself around Mycroft and feeling his erection being crushed against Mycroft's belly as the larger boy picked him up and laid them both carefully down on the bed. There was the briefest of pauses and then Greg felt Mycroft's slick hardness push inside him. Yes. Dinner could definitely wait.