Fever

right

The next few weeks were a bit complicated.
Mycroft's work had piled up because he'd spent so much time with Greg.
And Greg's desk was also piled high with unsolved cases. As a result, they didn't get many opportunities to meet.
But when they did meet, it was beautiful, and they enjoyed every minute of it.

Until now, they had not gone beyond kissing and cuddling. Even if Sherlock, who of course knew about it, he was Sherlock after all! So even if he once again drew the comparison with the Victorian girls and infuriated Mycroft, it was simply because they did not want to rush into anything. They were grown men and had had their experiences; but this one, the one between them, was special. They were both serious about it. And that's why they didn't feel like having sex quickly; that's why they wanted to discover everything with each other slowly, enjoyably and calmly.
It had been two months since they had been together, and now spring was spreading its fingers to London, and today, that Friday evening, Mycroft was going to come and stay with Greg for the weekend. It was the first time they were going to spend the night together.

It was after six, and Gregory was preparing dinner.
He had just received a text message saying, "Be with you in half an hour" and a happy big grin came over his face. He whirled through the kitchen and felt a cheerfulness within himself that was really good for his soul.
He began to sing to himself.
Hell, he was just looking forward to his friend.
He laid the table, shook the roast potatoes, took the meatloaf out of the oven, put the flame out that heated the beans and hoped that nothing would happen to stop Mycroft coming.

When the doorbell rang, he rushed to the door and fell around Mycroft's neck.
"Hey," the other one laughed, "you're nearly knocking me down!"
"I'm just down knocking gorgeous," Greg mumbled into the kiss he gave his lover.
Mycroft smiled.
Yes, Gregory was indeed. Gorgeous.
...the obvious, honest pleasure of seeing him did him good. It warmed his heart. Since he had his Gregory, he had found a balance and contentment in his life that he had never thought possible. And it had only been a few weeks. He sighed contentedly.
Yes, this was something serious, and even though it was probably much too early to think about it after such a short time, he had the feeling and the hope that this could last a long, very long time. Perhaps a whole life long.
For him, at any rate, it was a wonderful performance.

After Greg had released Mycroft from his stormy embrace, he had already gone back to the kitchen to put the food on the table.
He filled their plates and set out two bottles of beer.
Well, beer had never been Mycroft's thing. But since Gregory admittedly didn't really know much about wine, and he didn't always have the opportunity to get a suitable wine and make sure he was treated properly, he had come to terms with it, or over it. And if he was honest, it didn't taste that bad. In Gregory's presence he could even get used to it.

Mycroft had hung his coat on the cloakroom wall and left his bag in the hall for the time being.
He came into the kitchen to his darling, sat down contentedly at the table and they began to eat. And again he discovered that Gregory was a really good cook.
He had been exhausted and tired when he arrived here. But now, in Greg's kitchen, near Greg, he was much better.

"Gregory?"
"Yes?"
"When I come to you, after such a hard week, and am welcomed so lovingly, and on top of that, am treated with good food, with the cosiness of your kitchen, and with the fact that you are with me. It feels like..."
He took a deep breath.
"...like coming home."
Greg was beaming.
That was the nicest thing Mycroft had ever said to him. It meant more to him than just the reassurances that his grey hair was sweet, his brown eyes deep and beautiful and his bottom was extremely sexy.
Though he had no objection to the compliments he had received from his boyfriend, of course.
"Thank you, Myke, that..."
He swallowed.
He called him Myke for the first time.

Mycroft sucked the air in by surprise.
It had been a long, long time since anyone had'nt called him by his full name. A long, long time ago...
Apart from his mother, but she didn't count for that.
And to his own surprise he discovered that he liked it.
He smiled at Gregory and took his hand.
Greg had lowered his head unsteadily.
As he felt Mycroft gently stroke his hand with his thumb, he looked up and saw in his friend's eyes that the nickname was okay.
He breathed a sigh of relief.

Gregory had also been to Mycroft's. However, he had found it difficult to feel comfortable there. The house was, well Greg had put it this way, "swank."
That didn't suit him, and the fact that a butler, or whatever he was called, was taking care of everything made him uncomfortable.
Myke had sensed that and they had talked about it. It wasn't easy for Myke. To realize that what he felt was a convenience, Greg felt rather uncomfortable. But he finally accepted it, and so they had been seeing each other at Greg's ever since.
And now he had to admit that he now felt Greg's apartment was more like home than his own luxurious house.

He helped Greg clean up.
When the dishes were in the dishwasher, he suddenly felt like he was tossed around and pressed against the kitchen cupboard.
Then he was wildly kissed.
He felt his friend's desire and his own desire grew too, and it was clear that today was the first time something more would happen.
It felt just right.