If you could just take your hand out of your trousers right now before I embarrass myself, that would be great, thanks. Greg thought as Mycroft answered. Because, putting his hands in his pockets, stretched the material across...certain...delectable parts of Mycroft's lower half and Greg was trying really hard to keep his eyes focused on the top half. Preferably above the neck.

"Wine Yes, wine would be great thanks." He followed Mycroft into the kitchen, trying not to look like a kid in a museum.

Part of him was feeling a bit smug. Mycroft had seen his house first and still wanted to to have this dinner. The other smaller part was panicking because Mycroft had seen his dinky flat. What must he think? He had this and to walk into a tiny two bedroom, one bathroom flat, he was right, he could fit his house into Mycroft's sitting room.

Once he stepped into the kitchen, however, he tilted his head a bit. The kitchen looked less like a kitchen and more like a...well, he wasn't sure. But despite having a fridge and a range and a bit of countertop, kitchen was not the first thing that came to mind.

"You...don't cook a lot, do you?" he asked playfully, the side of his mouth curling into a grin.