Work Text:
„Heavens, Mycroft!“ The other man’s hands were cold as ice when he wrapped them around Greg’s middle. „At least give a little warning!“ After a few moments of silence and Greg getting adjusted to Mycroft’s cold limbs, he spoke again. „Would have never taken you for a cuddler.“ Mycroft made a derogatory noise. „Because that’s not what this is. I am merely cold and take advantage of the fact that you aren’t. Once I’m warmed up, I’ll leave you to yourself again.“ Greg hummed skeptically and sure enough, Mycroft had fallen asleep before he was ‚warm enough‘.
Greg went downstairs, following the smell of eggs and sausages to the kitchen, where – to his surprise – Mycroft was standing, cooking breakfast. Greg stopped, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at his lover. „It’s not what it looks like“ he commented, without turning around. „Really? Because it sure looks like breakfast, and if the smell is anything to go by, not a half bad one.“ He could practically see Mycroft rolling his eyes, even if he was still facing the other way. „It’s primarily a quick way to regain energy to continue our… activities upstairs.“ He finally stepped into the kitchen and sat down. „You realize that that’s not going to happen? I told you I have to work today.“ Mycroft turned off the stove and took two plates out. „Must have slipped my mind. But now it’s already finished, so…“ He prepared their plates and sat down to share the meal with Greg. „Enjoy.“
„Hey My, have you seen the shirt I wore last Thursday? I seem to have misplaced it.“ Greg wandered around the bedroom, looking under the furniture in hopes to spot it. He heard a sound and knocked his head on the bedframe trying to get up, but it was only Mycroft who had entered the room. „Try looking inside your cupboard“ he suggested. Greg rubbed over his hurting bump. „My… my what?“ Mycroft nodded to the dresser next to the window, adjusting his cufflinks. „Your cupboard.“ Greg walked over to where Mycroft had pointed and opened one of the drawers, only to find it filled with socks and underware. Another one held several jeans that surely weren’t Mycroft’s – because he’d never seen him wear anything even remotely this casual – and one held T-Shirts, including the one he’d been looking for, as well as some that he’d never seen before. „There are also some suit shirts and jackets your size in the wardrobe next to it. You can of course replace them with some of your own, if you prefer.“ When Greg failed to answer, Mycroft sighed. „It’s not that deep, Gregory. I just thought it convinient for you to be able to change when you’re here.“
„Oh, bugger!“ Mycroft took out one of his meticulously folded handkerchiefs and carefully swipped away the tears from the corner of his eyes. „Are you okay?“ Greg asked carefully. He wasn’t used to a crying Mycroft. „Yes, it’s just…“ Mycroft sniffed, but he’s voice remained calm and controlled. „That scene always reminds me of… well, me and Sherlock. I was hoping your presence would prevent this ridiculous association from interfering with my emotional reflex-system. My apologies.“ Greg wiped away a tear that had escaped Mycroft’s notice. „No need to apologize. I’m glad that I get to see your vulnerable side from time to time.“ Mycroft huffed. It would have sounded cruel without the small smile on his face. „That’s not what this is. I’m merely trying to discuss the complexitiy of this movie as a piece of art, as you would a picture. Personal resonance is simply a part of that process.“ Greg took his hand and kissed his knuckles, then returned his focus to the movie. „Sure, love.“
His day at work had been shit. About as shitty as it could get, the only thing that could have possibly made it worse would have been if any children had been involved. He couldn’t wait to let out all his frust in a passionate sex-session with Mycroft. When he entered the living room of the older Holmes however, he was stunned. There were candles everywhere and on the table he could see two glasses of wine standing in front of empty spaces that were limited by a fork and a knife each – clearly spots reserved for dinner plates. The middle of the table was decorated with a slim vase holding a single red rose. „Ah, Gregory, just on time.“ Mycroft entered the room with two plates of what looked like potato gratin and medaillons of pork in a fancy sauce. „Have a seat.“
When Greg failed to follow his instructions, Mycroft let out a small sigh and surrounded the table, helping him out of his jacket. „I should probably explain myself“ Mycroft started, but that seemed to set Greg’s thoughts back into motion. „Don’t worry, I know. This isn’t what it looks like“ Greg said, finally sitting down. „Though I’m sure curious as to what exactly it is, then.“
Mycroft smiled sheepishly. „Actually, this is exactly what it looks like.“ He took a deep breath. „I know it must come out of left field for you, Gregory, but… I think I would be willing to try a non-casual relationship with you. If you would still be open to this suggestion.“ Greg grinned at the man in front of him. He couldn’t believe that after almost two years of Mycroft’s strict no-emotion rule for this relationship, he had convinced him otherwise after all. „Not that I’m complaining – because you can bet your cute little arse that I want this – but what changed your mind?“ Mycroft blushed at the mention of his posterior and almost chocked on his red wine before he could answer. „This. You. Just you.“