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Mycroft had successfully navigated through the day as he would have any other, aside from catching Anthea’s knowing grin a few times. He had made sure that his day finished on time, as he knew Gregory would be most upset with him should he have worked late.
He honestly didn’t know what to expect, and that was more exciting than anything. Not knowing something, being unable to deduce someone’s life and intentions, was a rare thing for Mycroft. He knew that had it been the other way around, he would have lost his mind — he needed to know the world around him to that detail. He couldn’t function without that illusion of control that his deductive powers gave him. But, on occasion when he knew it would be a positive surprise, he revelled in the dark.
He walked through the front doors, eyes scanning about. There was nothing amiss. He put his umbrella in the stand and continued into the hallway. He listened intently, trying to pick up some clue as to his partner’s intentions. The house was silent. He walked into the illuminated living room to see a singular wrapped gift sitting on the table. Mycroft approached cautiously, raking his eyes over the details. Bulk-buy paper and ribbon, careful attention to the folds, wrapped quickly. So, professionally wrapped, then. As Gregory normally wrapped his gifts himself, the conclusion was that the surprise was intentional.
Instead of reaching out and opening the gift, he looked about for his partner.
“Gregory?”
There was no answer, and Mycroft had to wonder if he was alone in the house or just watched in secret. Gregory was doing a marvellous job of staying hidden if he was there watching, he concluded.
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Mycroft pulled the ribbon off. He deftly pulled the paper flaps open without tearing, and removed the box from the wrapping without a rip. He looked over the medium-sized box. It was a simple blue presentation box one bought from variety stores. He raised an eyebrow as he lifted the lid. He frowned. The piece of card that joined the confusing item simply read: ‘Anything’.
“Do you like it?”
Mycroft was so wrapped up in his mind that he jumped at hearing Gregory’s voice.
“I — I am not sure what it is,” Mycroft answered.
“Well that’s a shock. I mean, I know I tried hard to keep everything a secret from you but I didn’t expect I’d manage that well,” Greg chuckled, walking up and sliding his arms around Mycroft’s waist. He pressed his body up against Mycroft’s, and rested his chin upon his shoulder.
“I know what is is, obviously, however I am confused as to why you needed to give me a police box model?”
“Well, Anything. That’s why.”
Mycroft remained confused. It was a lovely model, complete with an opening door it seemed. He lifted it out of the box and tried to pull the door open. It remained stuck. He then pressed it forward, and jumped at the noise it made… as if it was a child’s toy. He turned around and looked at Gregory, squinting. “What is this? Firstly it’s made incorrect as the doors should open outwards, and then it makes a noise? Is this a children’s toy? I am not a child, Gregory.”
“Oh,” Greg breathed, “so you don’t know what it is.” Greg broke out into a grin. “This is the Tardis.”
“The what?”
“Tardis. Time and Relative Dimension in Space.”
“So it is a children’s toy.”
“No, love. It’s a collectable from the Doctor Who franchise. I’m astounded that you don’t know that — it’s like general knowledge.”
Mycroft squinted at him again. “I don’t understand. I thought you were supposed to be nice to someone on their birthday.”
“Nah, I think you’ve confused that with a deathbed,” Greg said in jest. “I’m not insulting you, dear. I guess pop culture isn’t really your thing. But, it at least gives us something to do together. I think you’d like the show.”
“If you insist, but perhaps not tonight. I had rather hoped we occupied ourselves otherwise.” Mycroft blushed as he said the words, still shy about being so forward. Gregory moved his mouth up to his ear, and Mycroft shivered at the hot breath.
“Oh, I have a lot of that planned for later,” Greg whispered huskily.
Mycroft moaned involuntarily, and felt Gregory’s chuckles throughout his body. “What do you have planned beforehand? I am intrigued. How ever did you manage to keep it such a secret?”
“Simple,” Greg chirped, stepping back from Mycroft. “I had no idea what I was going to do until after you left for work.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I knew you’d take one look at me and work it all out, so I made sure I took the day off to plan something so it’d be a surprise. I didn’t know what to get you, so I picked this… ok, so I got it because I really liked it, and thought it’d be a good way to tell you that your present was anything you wanted.”
“I see,” Mycroft hummed, turning around to face his partner. He raised an eyebrow.
“You know, the Tardis can take you anywhere in all of time and space. It was a good metaphor for telling you that you could pick whatever you liked. The Doctor usually lets his companions pick somewhere to go that they really want to see.” Greg shrugged, and smiled at Mycroft with his boyish charm. “How often do you get to chose whatever you want?”
Mycroft decided to not answer that as truthfully as he could. Instead, he elected to see how dedicated Gregory was to his promise. “And so if I wanted nothing more than to see and opera?”
“Done.”
“What about if I had wanted to trek through the rainforest?”
“We can do that, definitely, although I’d probably enjoy it a lot more that you would.”
“And what about if what I wanted was you, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed?”
Mycroft smiled as he saw Gregory visibly shudder and swallow. He took a step forward, so that his nose was able to nuzzle against his partner’s. “I think I would like that most of all. Do I have to ask the Doctor?” Mycroft asked, his voice heavy.
“Uhh… no, no I can… yeah, we… I’d like to,” Greg stuttered, his throat not working. It seemed most of his blood had better things to do than keep him making coherent sentences.
“Perhaps it would be more appropriate for the policeman to find his suspect cuffed inside the police box, ready to be taken?” Mycroft teased, his lips millimetres from Greg’s.
Two thoughts flashed across Greg’s mind at once: the Doctor wouldn’t like that much, and more predominantly: fuck, yes. Before he could manage to respond, Mycroft’s lips connected with his and kissed him hard.