A/N - Ah! I absolutely love your comments! They're all so lovely and supportive, so thanks so much! You honestly have no idea how much those comments mean to me, and they really brighten my days. I hope this chapter's alright. I had to split it into two because as it is the word counts over 2,700 which is far more than usual for a chapter. So yeah, sexy stuff is happening next chapter, but until then, I hope this is alright. Thanks for commenting, voting, and generally reading. You guys mean the world to me!
-CH
Mycroft
It was a big deal, me asking Greg to come back to my place. Asking him was either going to go well or awfully, and I just prayed that the question wouldn't scare him away. I was thinking I would make him a nice meal with some nice romantic classical music playing gently in the background.
I sat at my desk at work, googling nice meals to make. They all seemed simple enough; there was nothing too intricate. Not that it would be a problem if there was something intricate. I mean, I could have anything else needed flown into the United Kingdom, including the best chefs in the world, if I wanted. Gordon Ramsay or Jamie Oliver? Those were really the only two chefs I knew personally. Maybe I could even get an orchestra in, would Greg like that?
"I'm going out of my mind!" I growled to myself, dropping my head between my hands.
The door opened, and Anthea came in. "Sir? Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine, Anthea," I responded, waving my hand at her dismissively. She nodded and turned to leave again. "Hang on. Send Gregory Lestrade up for me, please. There's a game tonight and I need to make sure he knows what he's doing."
"Isn't that what the coach is for?" Anthea flinched as she saw the expression on my face.
I sighed impatiently. "Must I do absolutely everything for myself? Anthea, that man is a moron. Get Gregory Lestrade."
She nodded. "Yes, Sir."
I sighed again as she left the room, closing the door behind herself. This is it, Mycroft. You're going to ask him to come back to your house. I hope the cleaners have been in. I will honestly kill somebody if they've not. I swear I-
"Mr. Holmes?"
I looked up from my annoyed thoughts to see Greg walking in, a questioning grin on his face as he closed the door. "Mr. Lestrade," I replied, smirking as he sat down opposite me. He'd obviously been pulled out of P.E. He was in his too-irresistibly-tight P.E shirt which hugged his muscles. His shorts came to half way down his muscular thighs, and I kept my mouth clamped shut in case I said something weird about the beauty of his body. Dragging my eyes up, I saw Greg smirking at me for what was perhaps the first time I'd ever seen.
"Alright, Sir?" He purred.
"I dragged you out of P.E," I frowned.
Greg stood up and walked over to me, massaging my shoulders. Leaning down, he whispered in my ear: "It's fine. I'd much rather be here with you. What's up?"
"Dinner tonight. My house. After the game," I managed.
Greg squeezed my shoulders and leaned down, kissing my neck softly. "I'd love to come," he whispered as he moved away to sit on the edge of my desk.
I smiled up at him drowsily. "Really?"
"Definitely."
"Great!" I said a bit too (uncharacteristically) enthusiastically. I cleared my throat. "I mean, cool."
Greg raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Will you be coming to the game then?"
"Of course. I'd not miss it for the world. I'll leave earlier so no one sees us leaving together."
"Nice touch." Greg bit his lip and I gulped.
Unable to help myself, I stood up and pulled Greg in by his hips, directing him away from the window. He looked up into my eyes, and I looked down into his, trying not to think about how sappy and romantic I was being, like the people in those romance films who I so detested. I closed my eyes and kissed Greg slowly and sweetly, moaning as his hands gently twisted into my hair. Greg pulled away with a cheeky smile on his face. "Careful, Mr. Holmes," he practically purred. "Wouldn't want your assistant to hear."
I growled playfully and let go of him. "You're right, you cheeky sod. Get out of here before I lose control of myself." I walked Greg to the door and slapped his bum as I opened it. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lestrade, I shall come for the game tonight to make sure that all goes well."
"Thanks, Mr. Holmes," he said innocently as he walked out of the office, passing Anthea with a light smile as he went.
I smiled after him and went back into my office, closing the door behind me.
Right. Dinner ideas.
******
Checking my watch, I realised I had to get to Greg's rugby game. I logged off of my computer and put on my coat.
"Are you off now, Sir?" Anthea asked as I walked out of my office.
"Yes, I'm going to watch the rugby game."
"Ah, that's good of you."
I smiled somewhat uncomfortably and nodded. "Yes, well, I best be off."
"Oh," Anthea fumbled, "Oh, of course. Yeah. Good idea."
I cocked my head to the side. "Was there something else, Anthea?"
"I... Erm... I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner sometime? Maybe a coffee?"
"One day," I said, feigning promise in my voice. "Well, bye."
I left the office and began walking down the halls. Girls stared at me as I passed them by, as though not comprehending that I too walked on the same ground as them. I suppressed an eye roll.
Stepping outdoors into the cool evening air, I could hear the crowds watching the rugby game already getting enthusiastic. Honestly, I'd never really liked rugby. I didn't see the point of it. Apparently people just liked running around, getting sweaty, tackling each other to the ground ans slapping each other's arses whenever they got tries. Not the life for me, thank you very much. I refused to acknowledge the thought at the back of my mind that said I'd actually quite like doing that if Greg was involved.
I shrugged my hands into my pockets as I walked towards the field, looking on at the benches with a smile as I remembered the night I'd held Greg after he'd caught his girlfriend cheating. No questions there as to who the other party was. It only furthered my confidence in my powers of deduction.
"Hey, Mr. Holmes!" I looked up to see Greg's friend, Mike Stamford, looking at me with a friendly smile on his face.
"Hello, Mike," I replied.
"A-are we alright after the other night?"
"I'm sorry?"
"With Anderson. How we went to the hospital without telling anyone."
"Oh, yes. Yes, we're all alright. I was going to punish you, but Mr. Lestrade talked me out of it. Only Anderson and his female friend will be punished."
Mike beamed. "That's what I like to hear. Anyway, I best get going or Greg will start to wonder where I've been. I'll catch you later, Sir." Mike winked as he ran back towards the field.
I frowned as I continued to the benches. What was that about? I went to the benches, and a group of teenage girls parted in the middle to allow me a spot beside them.
"I didn't know you were interested in rugby, Mr. Holmes," one said, twirling her hair around her finger flirtatiously. Again, suppressing an eye roll.
"Yes, I am actually," I replied with a fake smile.
"Who's your favourite player?" Another asked.
"Gregory Lestrade's pretty good, isn't he?" I asked, absently smiling as I looked to the field that Greg ran around. His blue rugby shirt was tight against his muscular chest and the white '7' was proudly displayed across his back. He looked so unbelievably gorgeous.
"Yeah, he is," the girl replied, and I ripped my gaze off of Greg to look at her again. She gazed into my eyes intensely. Creepy.
"Mr. Holmes!"
I looked away from her to see Greg standing on the side of the field, looking up at me. "Whoops, excuse me. Looks like I'm wanted," I said quickly, standing up.
Trying not to run, I quickly made my way down to the field where Greg stood, his skin glowing slightly under the floodlights which lit up the grass. "You looked positively pained up there," Greg laughed, nodding towards the girls who stared at us together.
I laughed along with him. "You're right, I was. That girl looked like she was gazing into the depths of my soul."
"Sounds intense."
"It really was. Feeling good about tonight?" I asked, gazing into Greg's chocolaty eyes. They seemed to get more intoxicating each time I looked at them. Fascinating.
"What part of tonight?"
"Well, I was meaning the game. But either part."
"I'm feeling very good about both."
"Excellent. Well, it looks like it's almost kickoff. I'll leave you to it. I'll meet you by my car at eight-thirty, alright?"
"Sounds good. Wish me luck."
"All the best, Greg. I know you'll do well."
Greg grinned before running in the other direction. I went back to the benches, opting to sit amongst the teachers as opposed to sitting with those girls again. That was just weird.
The ref blew the whistle, and the opposing team's kicker kicked the ball, sending it flying, directly into Greg's awaiting arms. From behind his mouthguard, he shouted something to his players, before running up the length of the field. Mike ran alongside him, catching the ball as Greg was tackled to the ground.
I watched as Greg stood back up, brushing himself off before continuing. I flinched every single time he was tackled, and cheered every time he scored a try - which was often. It'd be embarrassing if I allowed myself to think about what I was doing. I was already getting sentimental about him. But I felt happy, and so I allowed the feeling to wash over me like a wave, and didn't fight it.
The Baskerville team was definitely winning by the time I stood up, going to wait in my car. I estimated Greg would be finished in thirty minutes, having to finish the game and then go back to the locker rooms to debrief. I began looking up foods on my phone. I was going to make a salmon dish. I double and triple checked the recipe I was going to use, before clicking out of it.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. Maybe I should've given myself some more time to watch the game. Greg'd be ages away. And then, as though responding to my thoughts, there was a tap on the window, and Greg opened the passenger door and slid in, changed into a white t-shirt and black jeans. "Sorry if I smell. I skipped the showers so I could get here faster. I figured you'd get bored of waiting," he said as he put on his seat belt.
"Well, that was very courteous of you," I smiled as I turned on the car, reversing it out of its space. "You can have a shower at mine if you want. It's nice. Jet stream and all that lark."
I looked at Greg as he shot me a lopsided smile. "You make it sound like a chore, having jet streams in your shower."
I chuckled. "Something like that. What was the score?"
"Thirty-seven to fifteen. We played well tonight."
"You play well every night," I commented.
"I saw you," Greg said. "You were cheering. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself."
"Good thing you know better then," I laughed, and Greg joined in.
"True."
We travelled to my house with a nice conversation about the game and other things, and I didn't miss the niceness of enjoying someone else's company. Usually I reserved myself, but letting someone else in was a nice change.
We got back to my house, and Greg's mouth dropped open. "Wow, you live here?"
"No, I just thought I'd bring you to some random's house. Yes, of course I live here."
Greg rolled his eyes at me and laughed, jumping out of the car. "You didn't mention that your house is a mansion."
"It's not. It's just a large brick house that's decidedly modern inside and out."
Greg looked at me. "Mycroft, it's a mansion."
I looked around, making sure no one was about, before pulling Greg in close, kissing his forehead. "Do you want to go inside?"
He nodded. "Yep, I need to finish my assessment of your mansion."
"You're weird."
"I know. I was meaning to tell you sometime earlier but I figured I'd let you work that out on your own."
"Lucky for you I find it to be very alluring," I murmured into his neck.
"Mm, well I'm glad. But maybe you should open the door. It's bloody cold out here."
I chuckled. "Sorry. Come with me."
I unlocked the door and allowed Greg to go in first before following him, closing the door to stop the heat from getting out. Thankfully one of the staff had lit the fire in the fireplace before leaving. Greg looked around. "Yeah, definitely a mansion."
He turned back to me and wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me gently. I pressed my body as close to his as possible, wanting to be touching as much of him as I could. The kiss quickly became rough, with Greg pushing me backwards towards my chair which sat by the fire. In his haste to get me into the chair, he pushed me back prematurely, and we toppled onto the floor together. His tongue invaded my mouth and I let him have dominance over the kiss. He moaned into my mouth, tangling his fingers in my hair as he straddled my waist.
"You, Mr. Holmes," he began as he started kissing my neck, "Are delicious."
I groaned and moved my neck so he had more room. It was hard to believe that I was the assistant headmaster, the one who usually had more authority when I was so willingly submitting myself a student. I could feel my erection growing by the second, and looking down, I saw Greg had one too. He noticed I'd opened my eyes, and he blushed and got off of me.
"Sorry. I got a bit carried away."
"It's fine, really. I enjoyed it. I was just thinking I should start making dinner."
"Do you mind if I have a quick shower then?"
"No, it's fine. I'll show you to the bathroom. Which one do you want to go to?"
Greg paused. "How many bathrooms do you have?"
"Four."
"Four?!" Greg spluttered. "What do you need four bathrooms for?"
"Well there are two bedrooms with attached bathrooms and then an upstairs bathroom and a downstairs bathroom," I shrugged, not seeing the big deal.
"I'll use the upstairs one then, please."
"Excellent, come with me." To both of our surprises, I grabbed Greg's hand in mine, noticing the way it fit perfectly into mine. Absently, I lifted our entwined hands and kissed his fingers.
I led him upstairs and he continued to look around. "This place is huge. Do you have a map or something?"
"I assure you, you won't get lost."
"I don't know about that," Greg chuckled.
I led him to the upstairs bathroom. "It's through there," I said, kissing him again, because apparently I was unable to keep my hands (or rather, mouth) to myself when it came to Gregory Lestrade. "I'm going to go make dinner, just call out if you need anything or use the intercom.
Greg raised an eyebrow. "Intercom?"
"I'm kidding, I don't actually have intercoms. I'm not that extravagant."
Greg patted my bum as he opened the bathroom door. "I wouldn't be surprised if you really did," he grinned that mischievous grin once more and let go of my hand. "I'll be out shortly."
I pecked him on the lips once more, and smiled. "Like I said. Just let me know if you need anything."
"Will do."
I watched as he disappeared into the other room, and then turned and headed back to the kitchen. Alright. Salmon.