Dinner was awkward. Which was a great pity as it was also quite delicious. But it was hard to concentrate on Mrs. Hudson's Steak and Kidney Pie when you were still a little damp from a rather hurried shower. And when you weren't the only one.

Sherlock had looked at Greg's damp hair, then at Mycroft's, nudged John and whispered something. John had looked equal parts horrified and awestruck. Both small boys had caught a disapproving glance from Uncle Ali at the head of the table. And both small boys had dissolved into further giggles when Uncle Teddy had appeared a few moments after Greg and Mycroft, with his hair decidedly damp.

But what made it most uncomfortable for Greg was the warmth radiating from the boy sitting next to him. And knowing that just twenty minutes earlier he had been wrapped up in that solid, warm flesh. And he could smell the low musky scent leaking from Mycroft's pores. And he could feel his trousers getting tighter and tighter and hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself at the table.

Mycroft seemed oblivious as he reached for his third lot of mashed potatoes and then drowned them in gravy. Greg sighed, wondering if he would ever stop having to play second string to Mycroft's stomach. Mycroft lifted a loaded fork to his mouth and chewed casually, holding the fork in his left hand. And just as casually, with his right hand he gently took hold of Greg's left and guided it under the table.

Greg very nearly spat his pie over the white damask table cloth. Mycroft, it seemed, was capable of indulging in more than one pleasure at a time and Greg could feel him standing rock hard in his straining trousers. Greg swallowed as best he could.

"Is everything all right Gregory?" Uncle Ali smiled at him. Greg felt trapped.

"Yes." He managed to squeak out.

"Are you sure, you seem a little distracted."

"No I'm fine." It just wasn't fair. Mycroft pushed against his hand, it felt like the material of his trousers was going to give out any moment. "May I be excused for a moment?" Greg was blushing crimson.

"Yes of course." The big man smiled at him and Greg fled from the table. He was out of earshot and didn't hear Uncle Ali's reproach to his nephew. " Mycroft, you are naughty."

Greg locked the door of the bathroom, realising he was horribly out of breath and he fumbled with his belt and the buttons of his trousers. He just managed to pull his boxer shorts down before his dick erupted. He sighed shakily as he cleaned himself up. This was not good. He'd couldn't remember ever being so horny.

"Greg, are you okay?" Mycroft tapped on the door, making Greg jump.

"Yes. Go away." Greg looked down at the mess of soggy tissue in the toilet and then at his still semi-hard cock.

"Let me in." Mycroft rattled the door handle.

"No. Mycroft. Seriously. Go away." His erection jutted painfully upwards, getting harder by the second.

"Please?"

"Okay, okay." Greg relented and unlocked the door allowing the bigger boy to slip into the small bathroom. Greg was very aware that his trousers were puddle round his ankles. Mycroft smiled taking in Greg's erection and muscular legs and cum splattered six pack.

"Very nice." Mycroft slowly undid his own trousers and let them drop to the floor, pushing his boxers down after them and then undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. Greg stood transfixed as Mycroft's hairy belly and chest were revealed, barely aware that his cock was dripping as he watched. Mycroft's own length was stood to attention, the thick shaft following the curve of his belly and the tip bulging two inches above his belly button. Mycroft put his arms around Greg and lifted him bodily onto the vanity unit. And then very, very slowly he pushed his massive erection between Greg's thighs. It took twenty seconds for Greg to come, all over himself and Mycroft, the stickiness smeared between them as Mycroft adjusted his grip and hoisted Greg a little higher.

"He's so strong." Greg thought. And then his mind whited out as he felt himself being entered and lowered down onto Mycroft. There was nothing he could do but wrap his muscly legs around Mycroft's broad back and hold on. After what seemed like forever he felt Mycroft come in hot thick spurts, but Mycroft showed no signs of stopping as he continued to pound into his lover. Greg caught sight of himself in the mirror. Him and Mycroft. Greg realised he looked like a whore being filled repeatedly by his hunky boyfriend. And he realised he didn't care as his dick erupted once more.

"That's it. That's it Greg. Come for me." And then Mycroft was lowering them both to the floor and letting his whole weight down on top of Greg, the mess of come between them sliding around and coating their bellies. And still there was that hardness punishing and pleasuring him at the same time. It took another five minutes of relentless pounding and another orgasm ripping from Greg before finally Mycroft slowed down and with three brutal thrusts, letting Greg have every inch of length and girth, he began coming.

"That was amazing!" Greg panted. "And messy."

"Sorry. I just had to." Mycroft reached for a towel and began dabbing at the mess covering his stomach.

"Here. Let me do that." Greg reached for the towel and rubbed it against the other boy's soft belly. "We should probably be getting back to dinner. I'm sure we've been missed by now."

"Yes. I'm quite sure we have. And I'm quite sure no one cares." Mycroft stilled Greg's hand and leant forward to kiss him.

"And you're telling me that after that you're not hungry?" Greg smiled.

"I do think I might love you Gregory." Mycroft smiled back and then blushed as his stomach gave a loud growl.