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Mycroft had been cooped up in his home office for hours, with no end in sight. Christmas was fast approaching, but politics didn’t take a break just because he wanted to. To make matters worse, it was freezing. His husband insisted on keeping their house at glacial temperatures. Something about the heating bill, never mind Mycroft’s ample finances and repeated offers to pay it. Greg preferred wearing as many layers as possible.
One of which, I’m just going to have to borrow. Mycroft thought to himself. Suit jackets weren’t cutting it, and it was as good of an excuse as any to leave the laptop behind for a minute.
The politician made his way to their bedroom, rooting in Greg’s side of the dresser and grabbing the first crewneck he saw. It was a forest green that he realized too late featured a large, gold Christmas tree on the front. Oh well. It was comfortable and no one would be seeing him for a while. Or so he thought until Greg turned up behind him, apparently home from the Yard early.
“You look good in that. Almost good enough to make it seem like it wasn’t a joke gift.”
“Oh, sod off. I can put it right back where I found it.”
“Don’t you dare.” Greg replied, twinkle in his eye.