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Their first kiss was after dinner and drinks in Mycroft’s office at the club. What started as short conversations at crime scenes and then drives around in the back of black cars turned into dinners at the club. The dinners started going long and the conversations turned to more personal matters.
Mycroft was a closet football fan and ardent Manchester United supporter which disappointed Greg’s red and blue bleeding heart. They enjoyed many arguments over the players, coaches, matches, strategies, and whatever else they could argue about. It never got truly serious.
That first kiss though.
They had been talking about Greg’s childhood. He had parts of it he loved, and parts of it he hated. And some parts. Some parts made him sad. He told Mycroft about them that night quietly while watching the flames flicker in the fireplace. Mycroft had inched closer to him during the conversation so that Greg knew he was supported. His left hand eventually resting on Greg’s right leg.
Greg looked up at Mycroft and after a quick moment of eye-contact, he stared at Mycroft’s mouth. He doesn’t have big puffy lips like his ex-wife. But he’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss Mycroft Holmes. He’d wondered about other things as well. Greg rather likes the idea of ruffling up a posh boy like Mycroft. It was a favorite past time of his in college and with his scholarship to Cambridge he was surrounded by plenty of them - and they all liked their bit of rough, as long as no one found out.
Mycroft ran a thumb over Greg’s cheekbone and silently asked if it was ok. Greg silently gave his permission by leaning forward and Mycroft closed the space between them. Mycroft’s lips were thin, but not dry. He ran his tongue gently across Greg’s lower lip and Greg gasped. Mycroft took the opportunity to open the kiss more and pulled Greg closer with his arms at the same time.
And despite his steak and garlic mash dinner, Mycroft’s mouth tasted like…
“Mint!” Greg gasped surprised and pulled back.
Mycroft gave him a cheeky grin.
“When did you have time to brush your teeth?!”
“Gregory, you surely would have noticed me leaving the room. I haven’t brushed my teeth, but I do tend to keep mints in my pocket for moments when I may need them.”
“Kissing lots of men in your office?”
Mycroft huffed a laugh, “Hardly. One never knows when a self-important MP will barge in demanding to be seen. With Anthea’s assistance, I have enough time to slip in a mint and make sure I don’t offend said self-important MP with whatever I had for lunch.”
Greg laughs because of course Mycroft kept mints in his pocket so he always had clean breath. They continued their kissing and exploring that night, and for many more nights in their immediate future.
******
Greg was at the airport trying to not look as excited as he was. When Mycroft walked out of international arrivals (“They’re forcing me to fly commercial, Gregory. Commercial.”) looking haggard, Greg pulled him down for a big kiss and giggles.
“Minty.”
Mycroft smiled.
“Welcome home, babe.”
******
The question asked and answered, Greg, pulled Mycroft in for a passionate kiss and smiled and barely gets out “minty” before Mycroft was pushing Greg down on the floor of the club office where Greg had been kneeling.
******
In front of their friends and family, they made their vows and promised each other forever. When the officiant said, “you may now kiss your husband,” Greg and Mycroft embraced and kissed.
Mycroft leaned back in surprise and said, “Minty!”