brotherthine | For Mousie - Anticipation of Pleasure

For Mousie - Anticipation of Pleasure

Mycroft had arranged entire countries over the course of a few days, but he never felt the thrill of pleasure and anticipation that came from clearing his Tuesday evening to meet with Gregory Lestrade. He had done a solid eight hours of work on Sunday, going through emails, red-lettering reports, writing five of his own. Monday he went in and told Anthea precisely what he needed over the next forty-eight hours, and like the miracle that she was, she made sure his schedule ran like clock-work.

With sandwiches, salad, tea and a review on the Government's policy for romantic engagements and privacy disclaimers, no less. Not to mention not one, but two cigarette breaks.

He bought her a new holster for her slinky-dress .22, and made sure she had tickets to the ballet that she had been dying to see. It was the very least he could do considering he was getting precisely what he wanted.

...well, mostly what he wanted. Tuesday night was rolling around towards 8 pm, and he was slowly considering calling in favors to have President Donald Trump and his entire staff of idiots bombed out of existence by some very disgruntled Canadians. Instead, he checked the timer on his lasagna, made sure that his salad was freshly cut, and then proceeded to give a Trump a blistering review of his entire life than left everyone in the Oval Office silent for some time, before someone croaked, 'You can't possibly know all that -'

Which was the point that Mycroft sucked in a breath, heard the ring of the doorbell and went to pull open the door and gesture Gregory inside without a backwards glance. It was unfortunate, but all of his focus now had to go into the next two minutes so he could finish this deal and have the rest of his evening.

"I could so possibly. I could possibly ruin every last one of you sniveling idiots with a stroke of my pen and my whisper in the ear of any of the many, many American publications. I know it all, gentlemen and ladies. I know about the bought sex. I know about the wire transfers. I most definitely know about the abortions that would politically cripple all of you within your own party. I also know that the last time a fascist leader tried to pull this sort of threat to the British Government, the British Government did not budge an inch. Neither, gentlemen, will I. Sign the agreement. Smile for the cameras. Or be prepared to be on the front of every newspaper in the world, and in jail within the next eighteen months. Good. Night."

He clicked off his phone, and exhaled, rubbing one hand over his face. "My apologies - the new American President is unfortunately as thick as a post. I also meant to go and put my suit coat back on from the kitchen but that did not occur either."

So here he was in his favorite dark grey suit - or at least most of it. Comfortable trousers, deep blue tie, and he had at least shaven today. Otherwise, he knew he still had his persona of the British Government up and running, so he took another breath so he could finally look properly at Gregory, and soak in the other man's charm and warmth, as well as peer to see what the other man was flaunting with his broad shoulders.

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Greg laughed. A quick, sharp, bright laugh of relief.

"Yes, Christ yes, dessert sounds fantastic. After dinner of course. And while I agree paperwork is not the most erotic material in the world, I don't care. I'll sign anything you need me to. in triplicate if I have too."

He wanted to kiss the man. His gaze kept dropping to the man's mouth as his spoke, especially after Mycroft licked his lip. Watching his tongue slide out even briefly, all he wanted to do was chase it back in, to pull him in by his vest and cover his mouth with his own.

But he had the presence of mind to understand that if he even dared kiss Mycroft right now, that lasagna was not getting eaten anytime soon. and he didn't want to ruin a thought out dinner with his rampant hormones. He could reign it in.

Belatedly he realized that he still had ahold of Mycroft's arm. Instead of letting go, he merely moved his hand so that Mycroft's was not entwined with his.

"Let's have dinner. You can explain the paperwork while we eat and we'll get everything sorted out that way."

He allowed the small half grin to appear on his lips for a moment.

"Although the idea that you have to seduce me into anything is frankly, a little cute. I was pretty much seduced the minute I walked into your house and saw you just like you are now."

Mycroft huffed softly, as he let himself be led back into the dining room, where their food was cooling. "I am not cute. I am imposing and alluring. Not to mention elusive."

They settled into their dinner, with Mycroft carefully explaining each bundle of papers as they came up. It was not an easy form, not by a long shot. It most definitely was not 'sexual in tone' anywhere in all the legal scale. One signature after another, Mycroft watched as Gregory choose to be with him with ink and pape, and got working to make that particular documents were completely perfect. No question mark around their relationship, thank you.

He ate and listened as Mycroft explained each and every piece of paper in the folder and signed, sometimes in triplicate, as he gave permission for a extensive dig into his past.

He'd done a less invasive search when he became of copper and another one when he joined the Yard. But this. This was going to dig into every nook and cranny of his life.

He signed the last piece of paper with trepidation and put down the pen and watched as Mycroft tapped the papers into some order that made sense to him and then lifted a pen.

A horrible thought came to him. They were going to dig up his divorce papers. Possibly the transcripts also. And the DNA testing.

"Wait." he said, looking into Mycroft's questioning gaze. He swallowed hard, reaching out and laying a brief quelling hand over Mycroft's.

He signed those papers without complaint as a way to show Mycroft he was serious about this. But just because Mycroft had said he wanted to be with him right now, didn't mean that after two hours of dealing with Rebekah Harrison-Lestrade (soon to be McGurty), he'd give up any and all pretense to Greg completely.

"I don't want you to think I don't want this, because I do. I swear I really do. But," Another hard swallow. "I need to tell you about Rebekah. Everything. And afterwards, you can chose if you still want to sign those papers. Because unfortunately, for about the next fifteen years, she is going to be a part of my life."

Mycroft was just considering that once he finally - finally - put the last signature on this paper he might actually be able to get somewhere near the proximity of at least being able to kiss Gregory again. So when Gregory put his hand down on Mycroft's in a 'No stop, do not walk into that building with explosive devices inside!' sort of urgency, Mycroft felt like whimpering.

Then, after Gregory explained why, he felt like snarling. Ah yes. Rebekah Harrison. As far as he was concerned she had given up her right absolutely to the Lestrade last name, after her appalling behavior. Now, to find out that she might actually impede him being able to have a relationship with Gregory at all, much less get anywhere closer to his actual goal this evening ...

Well.

Let us just say that by the time Mycroft put the pen down he already had two solid ways to deport her from the country. He was certain he would have a dozen more by the time that Gregory was finished.

"All right. I am listening."

He took a deep breath. There was a huge difference between telling people he had an ex wife and telling people about the ex wife.

He had the ridiculous thought that Sherlock should be here, because he could just deduce everything from Greg and he wouldn't actually have to say anything. But just as quickly the thought faded. The last person he wanted here, outside his ex, was his potential...person's younger brother. Who was probably having his own issues, he thought smugly.

"I'll spare you all the details about how we met and married and all of that," he began. "But it is important to know that when we were married, I had just gotten a position in the Yard and was working my way up the line. Rebekah was supportive of that. Promotion meant more money which mean more freedoms.
The day I got my pins for Detective Inspector was the day Rebekah told me she was pregnant. I was over the moon, the idea of being a father had always appealed to me but we were worried because with my new responsibilities it meant my hours were somewhat...well, shite." He clenched his hand to calm the nervous tremors.
She was almost eight months when I found out about the first bloke. I'd been working late hours and she was withdrawn and I chalked it up to the pregnancy. We got into a shouting match and that's when she told me it'd been going on for a better part of a year and she wasn't even sure the baby was mine. I was struck round. After a few days, we talked and decided to work it out, so I was there when Addy was born." He smiled.
"She was perfect. I had to talk to one of the nurses about DNA testing, which Rebekah threw a strop about but the Doctor ordered it and results came back that she was mine."
Another smile. "We tried for two years, or so I thought. Come to find out, mostly from your brother, that she'd been cheating on me the entirety of those two years. The last straw was a Christmas party at Sherlock's flat. I was going on holiday with the wife the next day to try to have sometime to ourselves. Your brother was being a bastard about something and rattled off in front of everyone that she was sleeping with a gym teacher. I went home that night and we had it out and she said she wanted a divorce. I hired a barrister and I fought hard, even against his suggestions, for rights to Addy. Rebekah filed under "abandonment and withholding of affections" as an excuse for her infidelity. She used my job as reasons why I shouldn't have Addy."
He took a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his hair.
"We fought for almost a year, took a large chunk of my savings, but in the end, the judge sided a bit with me. I was granted joint legal custody, access to my daughter every other weekend, select holidays and a week every summer and winter. I also have to pay support in the form of child and spousal but it's worth it to make sure that she can't take my daughter from me. In retaliation,she likes to make my life a living hell. The thing with Charlie, the man she's been with all of this time. He keeps calling himself Adalaide's dad. Luckily, Addy is intelligent and outspoken enough that she calls him out on it. Like you heard earlier this week, she likes to try to plan events for her on my weekends and I have to make damned sure I'm there to pick Addy up and drop her off at the exact appointed time or there's hell to pay. Rebekah refuses to get married because the minute they marry, the spousal support is dropped. Every decision about Addy is a three hour argument and probably will be until she turns legal age."

He chanced a look up at Mycroft, who sat there, the same look on his face as earlier, just listening.
"Like it or not, as long as Addy is in my life, Rebekah's in my life. She's manipulative, she's cunning and there have been times that the only thing that saved me was the fact that I am on the force and therefore a call in for kidnapping was met with opposition. Especially because we were at the birthday party of my bosses' daughter who could verify exactly were we were and why we were late. So," he gave a dry smirk. "I just want you to know what you're stepping into before you sign off on that last document. You know, just in case."

Honestly ... Mycroft could have told Gregory all the things that Sherlock had. He just preferred not to dip into that particular skill unless it was absolutely necessary when he was, in fact, trying to seduce someone. Which, honestly, after hearing about Gregory's wife and how much concern Gregory had about losing his child to this vile woman? Meant he was probably not going to get anything but proper snogging until he cut at Rebekah's throat enough so she knew to back off.

Ah well. At least he now did have a dozen ways to deport her, if need arose. Until then, he would have to give her enough rope to hang herself.

He was also considering having a few words with Gregory's barrister. That custody agreement was an absolute farce. He made up his mind right then and there to have his father go over the details.

However, Gregory was waiting for an answer and since this was the second out that he had given Mycroft, quid pro quo. He plucked the pen up in one hand, and then offered the other palm up to Gregory.

"I will sign these, Gregory. Not for the reason that the very idea of this woman wants to make me do something absolutely dreadful to her, but the fact that she is fool enough to give up someone like you for someone like Charlie." He heaped disdain on the entire sentence, before continuing, "Beyond that, if you are willing to take on additional scrutiny from the Government, I believe it only fair that I deal with your hellion ex-wife."

He pauses, then says quietly, "You have given me two outs, already, Gregory. Should I be offering you one, now? You can leave my house and we could never speak of it again. I would never risk your daughter's or your happiness for mine."

Edited 2018-09-14 21:17 (UTC)

"No! No, I don't want that, God, I swear I don't."

He must have made it sound really bad if Mycroft was giving him an out, he just...wanted the man to know what he was getting into. Too many horror stories he'd heard about people with ex marriages and children leaving new relationships because the new partner didn't understand how to deal with the exes. Especially the exes that were absolutely horrible.

He took Mycroft's hand, grasping it firmly, almost like a lifeline.

"I want to be with you. But I also want you to have all of the information at your disposal before you make this decision. I'm sure this isn't going to be a day at the park for you either. If you decide you're okay with this, then by all means, sign that final paper and let's get on with this. I won't say another word about it."

His thumb rubbed over a knuckle as he spoke, eyes wide and honest. He hadn't wanted anything so much in a long damn time and he was willing to jump through whatever hoops necessary to make sure this happened.

It was the thumb grazing across his hand that really just put the final nail in the coffin for Mycroft. It was this sort of ... casual intimacy that he had never experienced. Someone who simply could comfort with a touch of their hand. He looked down at their hands together, then calmly flipped over the pages and signed his name with a slight flourish.

Then he looked back at Gregory, with all due seriousness. "If your ex-wife interferes with the running of the Government with her petty jealousies and machinations, then I want you to be prepared for the thunder that will come down. She will be censored, and silenced, as needed." He paused, realized how that sounded, and added quickly, "That does not mean assassinated. More like ... increasing legal injunctions on all parts of her life. I do not suffer fools, and I certainly won't suffer one who is going to hurt you, her own daughter, and the running of this country just so she can get 'one up' on me for daring to care about you."

He sighed, "Anything domestic, I leave in your capable hands. You lead, and I shall follow your example."

Greg grinned widely.

"If you do, please let me have a behind the scenes seat to that? I'll even bring popcorn."

He's watched Mycroft sign his name on that final paper with fluttering in his gut that spoke of Something Big Happening.

He brushed his thumb over the knuckle once more, not really wanting to let go of his hand quite yet. There was something comforting about holding his hand,something soothing.

"Well, dinner was amazing. Even with all the boring paperwork," he joked. "Did we want to do dessert? Or...dessert?"

Mycroft smirked at that, before he nodded his head judiciously.

"I promise, you shall have a front row seat."

He put all the papers back into the folder, where he would have Anthea go over them before he had then noterized. He also did not try to free his hand from Gregory's enjoying the smooth touch of fingertips against his hand.

Gregory's question gave him pause, and he asked honestly, "Are you in the mood for .... dessert, all things considered?"

With a smile, Greg pulled Mycroft's hand towards him. Eyes still fixed on the man, he pressed his lips to knuckles, each one receiving the same warm, firm kiss.

"I think, all things considered, I would really like to at least try some dessert." he said, letting go of Mycroft's hand as
he half stood and leaned over the small expanse of the table.

His hand reached out and caught the front of Mycroft's waistcoat, pulling him towards him just a little.

"Unless you really wanted those macarons." he whispered right before his lips caught Mycroft's in a kiss.

Mycroft's eyebrows hitch a little as Gregory pulls his hand towards him - and then they hitch a little higher as Gregory kissed his way across his knuckles. Mycroft was man enough to admit that his breath caught then as well.

He could hardly think of a response, to that statement, until Gregory was leaning in for that kiss. He let their lips mingle together for a moment - warm, wet, sweet and wanting - before muttering. "I would rather like to state -- hang the macaroons."

"Brilliant."

He went back in for a kiss, a deeper press of lips, warm, wanting, uncomfortable.
Leaning over this table was damned uncomfortable and begrudgingly, he had to break away.

"Sorry, I'm at an awkward angle." he chuckled lowly, standing up.

"New thought. We take the dishes into the kitchen and soak them, wrap up the leftovers for later and then discuss dessert?"

How dare you take that mouth away from me, you evil man ...

Still, he had to agree with the grimace of pain. Craning his neck in this fashion was not going to do him any favors. Instead, he smoothly rose to his feet and started to gather up the dishes. No time like the present.

Especially the way his blood was pumping quite well throughout, warming his skin and other areas. "I think that is a splendid idea. Will you help me clear, please?"

"Of course."

He gathered up his dishes and followed Mycroft back to the kitchen, taking time out to admire him as he walked. The women in his command were right, there really was something to be said about a well tailored suit.

Placing the dishes on the counter, he walked back into the dining room to pick up the lasagna dish and bring it back in to cover it up.
A lid was found for the dish and it was covered and put away in record time.
He turned seeing Mycroft rinsing dishes and loading them into a dishwasher.

With a smile and feeling a bit naughty, he walked up behind the man, wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing his body against his back tightly.

"Need help?" he asked, pressing a kiss to Mycroft's jawline right below the ear. "I'm more than capable to help load a washer."

Mycroft didn't jump, because he could smell the tangy scent of Gregory's cologne before the man reached him, but he certainly didn't expect the other man to wrap his arms around him. His mind stuttered when Gregory's warm lips pressed against his jaw, and he had to stop. Let his body take over for a moment, leaning back into those very nicely formed arms. Enjoy the heat of Gregory through his shirt and waistcoat.

"Mm. I am sure you are more than capable. However I think you are working more on distracting me from said task than completing it."

"Mmmm, I could be, but you're so good at multi-tasking."

Closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the firm, relaxed press of a body against him and just, inhaled, the woodsy scent of the man's cologne soothing. He pressed his lips to Mycroft's jawline again, could feel stubble as he brushed his mouth across before moving down his neck for one more kiss before moving away.

"Fine. Budge over. I'll wash, you dry. Get this finished much quicker and move on to other things."

"Yes, I am an excellent multi-tasker."

He hummed, movin to 'budge over', but not before he snagged the front of Gregory's shirt to bring him in for a light press of lips. Two, after all, could play at this game. He smirked, and grabbed a hand towel.

"Commence washing, then. I am rather anxious for other things to occur."

The kiss was short but full of promise.
It was enough to motivate Greg.

His own flat not having a dishwasher, he was used to washing dishes the most efficient and quickest way possible.

Picking up the scrubber, he began washing the dishes, making sure every one was clean before he rinsed and handed to Mycroft to dry.

Again, there was something domestic about this, washing dishes after dinner, and he smiled at the thought.

"Maybe this time I need the pinny and pearls?" he joked, handing over a clean wine glass

Mycroft, for his part, very thoroughly dried each individual piece and put it properly where it belonged. It was, he noted with no little satisfaction, taking much less time than it normally would.

That is because I now have a partner. One for sexual and domestic purposes - now how had he managed to pull that off?

Simple, you let him in. One bottle of scotch and you remembered that you are human after all.

Sherlock, he imagined, would be endlessly pleased. He wondered when the goldfish themed gifts would start arriving at Gregory's door step ...

Adalaide would probably like a goldfish, actually.

Gregory's joke pulled him out of his thoughts, and he chuffed before he intoned piously. "Well as much as I would like to spoil you with expensive jewelry ... not entirely certain you could pull of a pinny, my dear Gregory."

One wine glass down, one to go. Then they were finished. He hummed in satisfaction.

Greg laughed as he dried his hands with a towel.

"Probably not. Although, I do have a few at the house. Usually for Addy though, she tends to get food all over her and the counter when helping with the pancakes."

Sunday's excursion into pancakes had managed to fling flour onto the other side of the kitchen, he remembered.

He watched Mycroft store the final glass, as he leaned his hip against the counter and waggled his eyebrows.

"How about that dessert?" he asked playfully.

He held out a hand.

"Now Adalaide can pull off a pinny, being small and adorable. If I get her a white coat, she could be the next mad scientist doing dreadful things with flour." Mycroft stated with a completely straight face. He put the glass away, then turned towards Gregory. Who had left his hand open, and the most wicked look in those dark eyes.

"Where would you like it?" He answered blithely back, as he folded his fingers between Gregory's.

"You could show me around the rest of this...castle." He looked around the kitchen, his hand tightening around Mycroft's before turning back to him with a smile.

"Show me your favorite rooms."

Suddenly his eyes widened and he grimaced a little.

"I, uh, hope you don't think this presumptuous, but I might have an overnight bag in the car. I didn't want to bring it in in case you thought I was being cocky, but seeing dessert is possibly on the menu, should I...bring it in?"

"It is hardly a 'castle', Gregory." Mycroft admonished with a faint smirk, as he took Gregory's hand in his. Squeezed his fingers, and then let out a laugh at Gregory's confession.

"Yes, I think it would be appropriate, considering the fact that I am going to take you to bed and not let you leave until tomorrow morning." He smirked, ice-blue eyes glinting. "Shall we walk out together? Enjoy the evening air?"

Greg smiled at the small squeeze of hands, grinned wider at tonight's plans.

"Sounds good." He dug into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. "I parked just by the front door, if that's all right."

He followed Mycroft outside, looking up at the night sky and how clear it was as they walked over to his car.

"You can see for miles out here." he said, opening his back seat and pulling out an overnight bag. "Not like Town where the lights block out all of the stars. It gorgeous."

Shouldering the bag, he locked up the door and leaned against Mycroft, his shoulder bumping his. "Your place really is great Mycroft. I see why you like it out here."

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