"You're sure you won't be missed at the office?" Greg slung his jacket over the back of the sofa and unbuttoned his cuffs.
"I am certain, Gregory." Mycroft's confident reply came back from the hall. "I also took the liberty of clearing your schedule for the remainder of the day. I hope you don't mind?" He reappeared in the living room and crossed to the drinks cabinet.
"Oh. Well, right. No. That's fine." Greg stumbled over his reply. It felt weird that anybody could have that sort of influence over his work, but he supposed it wasn't a bad thing. It certainly didn't feel like a bad thing as he took in Mycroft's casual manner.
"Drink?" Mycroft offered, lifting the Scotch bottle.
"Um, yeah, sure. Thanks." The whole scenario was eerily reminiscent of two evenings previous, and Greg could already feel pinpricks of arousal through his body.
Mycroft poured two crystal tumblers of Scotch and passed one across to Greg.
"It's been an eventful couple of days." he stated, taking a long drink of the amber fluid.
Greg chuckled and nodded. "That it has." he agreed readily. It had been a crazy week, but he couldn't help thinking that things were working themselves out.
John knew about Sherlock. The air had been cleared with regards to both the feelings Sherlock had for John and his drug taking, and John seemed confident that everything would work out OK. And then there was Mycroft. The government official brother of his long-time friend who had become his lover in such a short time. Greg smiled as they stood by the fireplace. Where it all began, he thought.
He placed his glass decisively on the mantel and moved towards Mycroft, removing his glass from his hand and putting it alongside his own.
"Mycroft." he said, unsure what he was going to say next but needing to say something; anything. He took hold of Mycroft's hands and lowered his head, as if studying their intermingled fingers.
"Gregory." Mycroft smiled, noting the level of desire that was plainly evident, even in his partner's down-turned face.
"Gregory," he repeated, "would you... could we..." he stuttered, unsure what exactly he wanted and even less sure how to ask for it. "Perhaps we could move to my bedroom?"
Greg let out a breath he was unaware of holding and raised his head to Mycroft's, returning the smile.
"I would like that very much." he replied, and he pulled Mycroft towards him, wrapping his arms around his partner's back and crushing their lips together in a desperate kiss.
He wanted this so much. He wanted Mycroft so badly. He hadn't been with a man for so long, but he had been with men before when he was much younger. Before his failed marriage. He never imagined he would find another man who would want to be with him as much as he wanted it.
He groaned into the kiss and pressed his hips to the taller man's, gasping as he felt Mycroft's arousal hard against his own.
"I think..." Mycroft panted, between peppered kisses, "it would be best if we moved...soon?"
He seemed uncertain; nervous almost, but Gregory just smiled at him. "If you're not sure, Myc?" he asked, wanting so badly not to screw this up.
"Gregory, I am absolutely sure. I am." he reassured, taking his lover's hands again and pulling him out into the hall.
Mycroft led Greg up the stairs and along a plushly carpeted hall before swinging open a door and dragging Greg inside.
"Welcome," he said mockingly, "to my humble abode!"
"Nice!" Greg chuckled. The place was far from humble. The entire house was more like a palace, but he couldn't admit to being surprised by that. He was fairly sure that someone of Mycroft Holmes' stature and influence would demand nothing less.
Mycroft led him to the oversized bed and sat on the side, pulling Greg in front of him. Slowly, he began undoing the buttons on Greg's shirt, sliding it off his shoulders before working on his own. Before long, both men was bare-chested, breaths coming heavy and fast. They both wanted to make this last but neither was sure if they could.
As Mycroft reached his hands down and began to undo Greg's trousers, Greg grabbed his hands, stilling them a moment.
"Are you absolutely certain about this?" he repeated, needing to hear it again and hoping his own nerves didn't show through in the question.
Mycroft raised his eye's to Greg's, seeing not only obvious arousal but also something else: anxiety? apprehension?
"If you're not...?" Mycroft responded, not wanting to pressurise the detective if he himself didn't feel ready.
"Oh god, Mycroft." Greg breathed, pressing his lips to the man's auburn hair. "You have no idea how much I want this."
Mycroft smiled and continued removing Greg's trousers, pushing them down. He couldn't fail to notice the man's erection bulging in his pants, and he quickly removed his own trousers and slung them aside. Greg stood between his legs and slowly pushed his lover backwards, before climbing on top of him on the huge bed.
He glanced down to make sure that Mycroft was happy with his position at the bottom and, seeing only heavy-lidded eyes and a blissful smile, decided to continue. He gently lowered himself down towards the man's body until he was completely covering him and he could grind their erections together, only pants separating them, in a torturous dance of friction.
"God..." Mycroft gasp, unused to the sensation of another man's hardness against his own. "It's so..."
Gregory moaned against his lover's shoulder. He was so aroused that he wasn't sure he could last long.
"I know, Myc." he panted, lifting slightly before sliding his length against the one below. "I can't..."
Mycroft wrapped one hand around the detective's neck, curling fingers in the silver-grey hair and pulling his head in for a breathy kiss. The other hand snaked around to Gregory's lower back, pushing their groins together to moans of "more...more...oh god yes..."
As Mycroft approached his climax with his mouth broken from Gregory's in a silent cry, his lover's completion swiftly followed with Gregory's back arched and a long groan of "Mycroft..."