(Source: wasthatnotprocedure)
“Oh papa-San, please take me home,” Mycroft sung with a giggle. He leaned against Greg, his hands coming up to caress his firm chest. There were many things Mycroft would come to regret about that evening, but he thought that he’d regret this the most. He wanted more than just a shag with Greg, but if this was his only chance, he might as well take it. Maybe Greg felt the same way too, the annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him. It was quickly shut down, however, as who would want an old political who spends more time in his office than home. No, if he couldn’t have Greg forever, he’d have him for a night.
Greg had to keep his jaw from dropping, hearing Mycroft singing The Clash of all things. He’d always known he was a good looking man, but he’d always wondered if he was as straight laced as he’d appeared. Tonight’s.. situation.. had been a very lovely wake up call. He smiled and leaned into Mycroft’s hand, moving in close enough that they were merely inches from each other. Greg’s free hand wrapped around Mycroft’s just as he tilted his head, moved to one side, his lips barely brushing against the side of Mycroft’s face. He squeezed and interlaced his hand with the slender fingers pressed against his chest. “Is this.. what you want?”
The feel of Greg’s lips on his skin sent shivers down his spine. Greg’s hand was warm against his own cold fingers, he imagined his warm hands running along his body. “Yes I do,” he hummed as he brought their fingers to his lips. Unfortunately he mouth didn’t stop and before he realized it he’d said “More than anything, I want to be with you.”
“You..” He pulled back the slightest bit, just enough to make eye contact with him. He was a bit slurred in his speech, his cheeks felt warm, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his head from being just the tiniest bit wobbly. “..really?” Why would Mycroft be interested in more than a shag with him? Greg knew he was a tough target to hit, but for some reason, he felt.. oddly comfortable with him right now.
“Oh papa-San, please take me home,” Mycroft sung with a giggle. He leaned against Greg, his hands coming up to caress his firm chest. There were many things Mycroft would come to regret about that evening, but he thought that he’d regret this the most. He wanted more than just a shag with Greg, but if this was his only chance, he might as well take it. Maybe Greg felt the same way too, the annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him. It was quickly shut down, however, as who would want an old political who spends more time in his office than home. No, if he couldn’t have Greg forever, he’d have him for a night.
Greg had to keep his jaw from dropping, hearing Mycroft singing The Clash of all things. He’d always known he was a good looking man, but he’d always wondered if he was as straight laced as he’d appeared. Tonight’s.. situation.. had been a very lovely wake up call. He smiled and leaned into Mycroft’s hand, moving in close enough that they were merely inches from each other. Greg’s free hand wrapped around Mycroft’s just as he tilted his head, moved to one side, his lips barely brushing against the side of Mycroft’s face. He squeezed and interlaced his hand with the slender fingers pressed against his chest. “Is this.. what you want?”
“Oh..” Greg could feel his face flush a bit. He absolutely hated that Sherlock could still get the best of him. He smiled at the woman and shook his head, “..er.. thanks. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name..”Emaline smiled brightly, handing him the ID. “Emaline. Emaline Holmes. Sherlock’s little sister.” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.
Greg shook her hand and took the badge with the other. “Pleasure, Emaline. I’m Greg, but I take it you’ve heard about me, then.” He smiled and put the badge in his pocket. “I had no idea Sherlock had a sister.”
Hey guys. Sorry I wasn’t around yesterday. It wasn’t a very good day.. Ourgh.
Anyway, I’m back and actually have the next couple of days off (however, my sister is visiting from out of town)
Sooo I should be good to go. I finished all the drafts I had, but if I owe you something, like this post!
Thanks for being awesome guys!
“Hello there. I’ve got a delivery from Sherlock Holmes. See, he pick-pocketed the Detective Inspector and I made him give it back. But he is on a case so he sent me to do it.”
“Oh..” Greg could feel his face flush a bit. He absolutely hated that Sherlock could still get the best of him. He smiled at the woman and shook his head, “..er.. thanks. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name..”
Lestrade gave him a curious look, then a step back. “..Jim? What.. what happened to you?” His eyes wandered over the once-criminal-mastermind and he couldn’t help but be perplexed at the man he now saw in front of him.
James sighed and mouthed, ‘Failure.’ Slipping out his phone his fingers worked out the rest of his words. ‘I failed and now I can no longer speak.’. He showed Gregory what he had typed out and was glad that he hadn’t threatened to throw him in jail, knowing that more trouble would wait for Jim behind iron bars.
Greg leaned forward cautiously and his eyes scanned the phone, confused. He moved back again, ready for some kind of retaliation from Jim. He may look bruissed and broken, but that could jsut be a ploy. This is Moriarty after all.. Without warning, all the anger from the past handful of years came raging back to life. This man ruined Sherlock as well as himself and they both knew it. He tried to keep his voice calm, ”What are you doing here?”
He coughed and nearly spit out his drink at Mycroft’s giggling. Not to mention that goddamn hand on his knee. “Greggie, huh..” His eyes, beginning to blur just the tiniest bit, scanned as much of Mycroft’s face as he could take in. Good god, that mouth.. He could sit and watch him talk for.. “I’m sorry.. I keep.. getting distracted and um.. would you mind if.. I um..” He took his thumb and carefully brought it up to Mycroft’s mouth, wiping at a bit of beer-foam at one corner.
Mycroft wrapped his long fingers around Greg’s wrist to keep him from pulling back as he sucked Greg’s thumb into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks as he pulled back, sucking the foam off. He let Greg go as his thumb popped from between his lips. “Thank you, Gregory.”
He could feel his heart speed up but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beer, the sight of Mycroft’s lips around his thumb, or the fact that he could have sworn he just felt the tiniest flick of his tongue.. Either way, he felt himself lean forward further towards Mycroft. This is a bad idea.. you know he’s only going to change his mind about you tomorrow.. He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the back of Mycroft’s neck. He mumbled, ”Fuck it. Straight to hell, right?”
Greg was warm against his skin, even though the fabric, he noted. He was probably imagining it, but the warmth felt nice. “Don’t get used to it,” he laughed, fighting the urge to touch the warm thigh with his hands instead of his leg. “Tomorrow I’ll be very hung over..I’ll call you and apologize for my crass behaviour…and the facade will be back up.” He sighed sadly, wishing he could relax around Greg more often, but he knew in back in his mind, that he couldn’t.
Ugh.. tomorrow.. he thought. Tomorrow he was due in the station for the new batch of rookies’ orientation. But now? Now he was thigh to thigh with Mycroft, resisting the strong urge to.. No, no, jesus, Greg, one thing at a time. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He took another sip from his pint. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. But I do, and besides..” he subconsciously licked his lips, “My night’s just begun, right?”
Mycroft tilted head a moment, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, as the gesture dawned on him, he giggled furiously. As he leaned over, his hand slipped onto Greg’s knee. Their faces were fairly close together now, just a little more and… “Of course, Greggie~ And I have a fairly good idea as to where this evening is going,” he giggled, his thumb drawing little circles on Greg’s thigh. “And I have no qualms spending it with you.”
He coughed and nearly spit out his drink at Mycroft’s giggling. Not to mention that goddamn hand on his knee. “Greggie, huh..” His eyes, beginning to blur just the tiniest bit, scanned as much of Mycroft’s face as he could take in. Good god, that mouth.. He could sit and watch him talk for.. “I’m sorry.. I keep.. getting distracted and um.. would you mind if.. I um..” He took his thumb and carefully brought it up to Mycroft’s mouth, wiping at a bit of beer-foam at one corner.
“Mmm, it’s in the tongue. I’m quite good with it. Or so they tell me.” he winked, noticing how Greg’s eyes drifted down to his mouth. He nudged Greg gently. It was true, the Holmes brothers were blessed with wicked tongues, though most of the time, they were used for sharp words, though occasionally they used them for more…personal matters.
Greg rubbed his chin and shook his head. How am I actually having this conversation with Mycroft Holmes in a pub? He pressed his thigh against Mycroft’s and leaned back, settling down in his seat. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, smiling at the buzz overcoming torso, his limbs, his mind. “You’re going to get yourself into trouble, Mr. Holmes. I wouldn’t have expected.. I just mean.. I have no idea what I’m talking about.” He had to laugh at himself. Mumbling and flirting like a teenager.
Greg was warm against his skin, even though the fabric, he noted. He was probably imagining it, but the warmth felt nice. “Don’t get used to it,” he laughed, fighting the urge to touch the warm thigh with his hands instead of his leg. “Tomorrow I’ll be very hung over..I’ll call you and apologize for my crass behaviour…and the facade will be back up.” He sighed sadly, wishing he could relax around Greg more often, but he knew in back in his mind, that he couldn’t.
Ugh.. tomorrow.. he thought. Tomorrow he was due in the station for the new bath of rookies’ orientation. But now? Now he was thigh to thigh with Mycroft, resisting the strong urge to.. No, no, jesus, Greg, one thing at a time. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He took another sip from his pint. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. But I do, and besides..” he subconsciously licked his lips, “My night’s just begun, right?”
