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“I am not wearing this. I look absurd” Mycroft’s voice floated across the room from the direction of the bedroom. Greg felt a smile dance across his lips, slow and luxurious. He could not believe how lucky he was! He felt relaxed, happy, satiated. Images from their afternoon spent wrapped in his sheets, and in each other, leapt unbidden into his mind. Memories of running his hands across smooth skin, exploring the hills and crevices of Mycroft’s body; his shoulders, chest, hips, of pupils blown so wide, he couldn’t help but fall into them, of breathless moans as he had gently pinned Mycroft’s hands above his head, as he had taken him apart, piece by piece, of flushed lust-tinged skin, of Mycroft’s beautiful mouth stretched around his cock, the look in his eyes as he pulled Greg closer and closer to the brink… Oh Jesus, the things that man could do with his tongue! Greg felt the slow lazy warmth of arousal suffusing through his body.
“It can’t be that bad!” he shouted back, “besides,” he added as an afterthought “I don’t think you could look absurd in anything you wear. You practically ooze suave sophistication!”
“Try telling the jumper that”. Suddenly a tinny high pitched rendition of ‘Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer’ started up. “Oh my God, it sings!” Greg chuckled at the plaintive dismay in Mycroft’s voice.
“Greg!” Mycroft fired back, clearly unimpressed and maybe just a little insecure, as if he didn’t quite understand the protocol for receiving an ugly, musical Christmas jumper from one’s partner. Greg’s heart clenched and for a second he forgot to breathe with the affection that swept through him. It claimed ever last bit of his attention.
“Okay, okay, I promise you, I completely forgot it did that. But the jumper itself… it can’t look that bad. Let me see it on.” He wiped the tears away from his eyes and bit down on his lower lip, trying to stifle the fresh peal of laughter that was bubbling up. He failed miserably.
A moment of silence followed from the bedroom, then a huff of resignation and carpet muffled footsteps.
“I can’t go out like this” Mycroft said as he rounded the corner. Greg’s grin widened as his eyes roved over Mycroft’s body, taking him in. His expression, flushed and a little embarrassed and that outrageous jumper; Santa suit red, with a giant reindeer motif plonked in the centre of the chest, plushy antlers standing out proudly, nodding enthusiastically every time Mycroft shifted. Oh and not to forget the bright red pompom nose that encouraged Rudolph to song when it was pressed.
“You’re right, you can’t go out like that” Greg smiled softly, pulling himself to his feet. He closed the distance between them and rested his hands gently on Mycroft’s hips, where the rasp of warm wool met with smooth skin. He could feel the satisfied smirk on Mycroft’s mouth as he pressed a gentle kiss against it.
“Mmm, I knew you’d see sense Greg” Mycroft purred approvingly, as he pressed himself closer.
“Oh no, I wasn’t talking about the jumper Myc. No, I think the jumper stays.” Greg said softly, as he pressed kisses against Mycroft’s collarbone. He stepped back slightly, letting his hands wander ever so slightly lower. “No, I was simply suggesting that you might want to put on some trousers”
Mycroft growled at him, but the effect was muted somewhat by the fact that Mycroft was wearing a daft Christmas jumper and absolutely nothing else.
“Don’t be ridiculous Greg, of course I’m going to put trousers on.”
“Me ridiculous?” Greg giggled “I’m not the one wearing a stuffed reindeer! I like it though” he kissed Mycroft more thoroughly this time, firmly, his tongue seeking and insistent. They were both a little breathless by the time he pulled away.
“At least you admit that it’s stupid”
“Yes, but I’ve got quite attached to it, now. Come on, for me! Anyway we need to go, we’re going to be late!” he stepped back, finally releasing Mycroft, who still looked a little disgruntled.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” Greg said, winking, “I promise.”