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Swalloween

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‘God, remind me to say no the next time you ask me to come with you to one of your so-called “office parties”…’ Greg shivered when he stepped out in the cold London evening, taking out a packet of cigarettes from the back pocket of his ragged breeches. From the building he just had left came his boyfriend, following him in his step, giving him a slightly apologetic look.

‘Oh, come on, Gregory, it hasn’t bee-’ The government official was cut off by a couple of sudden loud scream coming from within the party venue. When the couple had walked long enough away from the old, reverend building to be able to hear each other over the thumping music Mycroft continued. ‘I think you are overreacting slightly, my love.’

‘Overreacting? Overreacting?!’ The policeman spitted out the words before he lit one of the cigarettes. ‘Tonight I’ve seen the PM throwing up in a flower pot, Anthea dressed as Catwoman and you shouting at a waiter. In Russian. I think I might have a reason to be a bit worked up.’

Mycroft didn’t answer; instead he put his arm around his lover’s, and pressed a quick, tender kiss on his temple as they started to walk down the almost empty street. It was very dark outside, and Greg had to struggle a bit to see clearly. A long day at the Yard in combination with a catastrophic Halloween fancy dress party with Britain’s most influential men and women really sapped your strengths.

‘At least you won the costume contest…’ The politician’s eyes trailed along the other man’s body, stopping at his wide-open, yellowish shirt and his exposed, hairy chest.

‘That was only because the Home Secretary’s wife fancied me.’ Greg snorted and blew out a lungful of smoke that mixed with his hot breath in the freezing autumn night. ‘As the chief judge she just wanted to have an excuse to give me a hug when giving she was supposed to give me that trophy…’

‘I think it is perfectly understandable. I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t give the world to get a piece of sailor Lestrade, the most famous silver fox on the seven seas.’ The politician once again eyed the other man up and down, this time licking his lips seductively when he looked at the short, spiky, grey hair.

‘You’ve got a point there, Myc.’ The detective inspector smiled appreciatively, and took a last drag at the cigarette. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself, Captain Holmes…’

Mycroft stopped to doff his black tricorne with a little, elegant bow, making his pavonated, ornate coat flutter behind.

‘I’m sorry I made you come with me though. I don’t like these kinds of parties either, but at least you weren’t present at the legendary Chirstmas party of 2006…’ Mycroft took off his hat and put it under his arm. Then he leant over his boyfriend’s shoulder and nuzzled into his neck, his forehead fondling the stubbly chin lovingly. ‘But it’s a time-honoured tradition, so I didn’t really have a choice but to go.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Mycroft.’ The older man planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s pale, cold forehead as he put an arm around the other man.

‘How about taking a taxi home?’ The politician nodded casually towards the high street a few yards further up the road.

‘No, not yet…’ Greg smiled mischievously. ‘Since you’ve had the pleasure to show me an old Halloween tradition, I want to show you one too…’

‘Really?’ Mycroft voice was very teasing, yet genuinely curious.

‘Yes.’ Greg stopped to be able to look the younger man deeply in the eyes. ‘There was this tradition at university that every Halloween all the guys were supposed to get as many girls as possible to give them blowjobs. Us gays went with it as well, but- Oh, don’t give me that look, Mycroft! Just because you went to public school can’t mean that you hadn’t similar things!’

The government official chuckled teasingly and then cried out with a mock-scandalised tone: ‘I’ve never heard anything of the like in my whole life!’

‘Shut it you! Anyway, the only difference is that between us was that we had this thing, spitte-’

‘How about just turning left into that alley and try it then, huh?’

Mycroft’s words sent joints of exaltation through Greg’s body, and he could feel how his trousers suddenly became astonishingly tight. With a vicious smile the politician took his lover’s hand and led him into said alley, which luckily enough was empty, except for some bins. Greg quietly hoped that those bins would be able to cover them up in case someone walked by on the street they’ve come from. But Mycroft soon made the detective inspector focus on other things as he pinned him against the brick wall on one side of the alley, Mycroft’s fancy coat-clad arms trapping Greg on both sides.

Greg stole a quick heated kiss from the man in front of him, and when he pulled back in order to look Mycroft in the eyes, he saw a very challenging and arousing look in them. The government official lent forward slowly, making the other man whimper as the space between them grew smaller, and smaller. When he was just an inch away from the shorter man’s lips with his own he stopped, and said frankly:

‘Would you mind holding my tricorne, dear?’

With a quick nod Greg took the hat from the politician’s hand, and before he had even blinked Mycroft started attacking his exposed neck and collar bones with an adventurous tongue. The policeman let his hand that held the hat fall to his side, resting it against the wall, when the politician started to explore the cold skin of his bare chest. The taller man was very thankful for the already unbuttoned shirt, and made sure to let his boyfriend know by moaning softly.

Every now and then he looked up at Greg with hungry looks, which made the detective inspector groan out loud as well. Once he had gathered enough composure to think straight, the older man started caressing Mycroft’s side, the arousing sensation of touching the pavonated coat’s expensive fabric reminding Greg that there was something in his own trousers that Mycroft had promised to take care of.

As if the politician had read his thoughts, Mycroft moved down in order to bite one of the detective inspector’s nipples. He lingeringly started to kneel down in front of Greg, his tongue darting down over his chest and stomach, only stopping a few times to use his mouth to leave red love bites on his lover. He stopped when he finally got down on his knees, and nuzzled his nose into the skin over the waistband of his boyfriend’s trousers.

‘Are you sure you want me to do this, Gregory? You would get so cold in this freezing weather if I took off your trousers…’

‘Stop that, Mycroft!’ The detective inspector was literally shaking, damning his boyfriend in his mind for having convinced him to wear an outfit made of suck thin materials. When Mycroft still didn’t move, except for blinking at him innocently, Greg murmured pleadingly.

‘Please, Mycroft…’

Mycroft quickly unzipped the not very historically accurate breeches, and pulled them halfway down his thighs with his right hand before putting it on Greg’s hip, the other hand still resting against the cold wall.

‘So you are actually wearing underwear!’ The politician took great pleasure out of tantalising the other man as he let his fingers ghost over Greg’s Marks and Sparks briefs, goose bumps appearing all over the man’s skin. ‘I thought those were luxuries that simple pirates couldn’t treat themselves with.’

‘For Chri- just because you were stubborn enough to get someone to make you a handmade copy of a real captain’s outfit doesn’t mean you can co- Oh, yes!’

Mycroft interrupted his boyfriend by beginning to lick the prominent bulge in front of him, his saliva wetting the soft material of the policeman’s underwear. The politician moved his right hand tenderly from his lover’s hip to one of his firm buttocks as he continued to tease his boyfriend by sucking one of his testes through the cotton material, whilse slowly squeezing Greg’s arse.

‘What is that I can’t do, Gregory?’ The politician’s left hand moved from the brick wall over to his boyfriend’s briefs, the fingers of the hand teasingly pulling at the waistband.

‘You’re a fucking tease, d’you know that?’

The younger man smirked through his eyelashes as he looked up at Greg, making a point of letting his tongue lick along the outline of the other man’s still trapped erection. To Mycroft’s delight his lover now started to rub himself against his tongue, and the friction this caused between them contributed to the politician’s own growing arousal.

Mycroft decided that it now was time to stop the teasing, at least in some sense, and with a delicate movement he pulled down the policeman’s underwear as well. He looked up at Greg with excitement before he took a long look at the throbbing member in front of him.

‘Please, Mycroft, please…’

‘What, my love, what do you want me to do?’

Grinning like a child at Christmas Mycroft kept the eye contact, drawing small circles on his lover’s hips with his left hand.

‘Please put that wonderful mouth of yours to some good use.’ Greg panted as he felt how a drop of sweat rolled down from the line of his hair down over his forehead.

‘Like this…?’ The younger man asked as he licked along the whole of Greg’s erection up from the base, making the other man whimper even more. ‘Or maybe like this…?’ Mycroft took the head in his mouth as his tongue came closer to the tip, sucking lightly before pulling out again. He arched his eyebrow challengingly as he softly rubbed the tip of his lover’s cock with his thumb.

‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’ The detective inspector moaned as the other man used the index finger of his right hand to trail between his cheeks.

‘Of course I’m enjoying myself.’ Mycroft took the other man in his mouth again, bobbing up and down twice before releasing him. The vague light from the high street made the spit and pre-come on the politician’s lips glisten, and Mycroft chuckled as he continued: ‘That is the whole point of copulation, dear Gregory.’

‘I don’t understand how you can talk while you’re sucking someone’s cock…’ Greg felt how his grip tighten around his boyfriend’s tricorne as the government official stroked his erection with his slender fingers, first pumping rapidly, only to change to aggravatingly slow strokes. 

‘Not someone’s cock, my love, your cock.’ With those words Mycroft took his boyfriend whole shaft in his mouth, deep-throating him slowly in order to adjust himself as he daringly kept eye contact with Greg, steadying himself with his hands on the other man’s hips.

‘Yes, Mycroft…!’ The cold caused by the chilling October weather that Greg had felt a few moments earlier had almost disappeared completely as the warmth from Mycroft’s mouth spread through his body. The sight and sensation of the politician’s beautiful lips wrapped around his cock never failed to please him, and the feeling of sheer joy got even stronger when his lover cupped his balls, massaging them slowly.

When Mycroft pulled away from him, the policeman reached out his free hand and grabbed his auburn hair, tangling his hair between his fingers as his lover took a deep breath. The government official was soon back on track and started to lick Greg’s head devotedly, the teasing tongue almost driving the policeman crazy.

The younger man smiled smugly with the devil in his eyes as his lover arched forward, loving how the man cried out under his control. Mycroft took the other man in his mouth again, and was using one of his hands as a supplement by encircling the other man’s cock with his index finger and thumb, when Greg spoke again between his feverish pants:

‘I’m- Oh! I’m gonna-’ Greg was cut off when Mycroft started bobbing up and down again, changing his pace every so often that the policeman barely could get out a single coherent word.

‘You don’t have to… If you don’t want…’ The politician gave him a look that said that he very much wanted to, and stroked Greg’s erection frantically as the detective inspector came in his mouth with a loud scream that sounded like a mix of the younger man’s name and a curse. Without even blinking Mycroft swallowed Greg’s load to the sound of the other man moaning due to his state of complete bliss.

The politician continued to move slowly up and down his lover’s cock as Greg saw stars and rode out his orgasm. When he finally pulled out he gave the other man an endearing smile, giving him a couple of minutes to gather himself before he caringly pulled his briefs and breeches back on. At the same time Greg took a grip around one of Mycroft’s shoulder, steadying himself in order to not fall down in a pile against the brick wall.

‘Was that satisfactory, my dear?’

A short but sincere “uh-huh” was all that Greg managed blurt out as the other man stood up and gave him a passionate kiss. After a few moments of more lazy kisses and soft fondling the policeman managed to say:

‘You didn’t have to, you know…’

‘Of course I didn’t, but I wanted to.’ Mycroft wiped away some of the sweet from his boyfriend’s forehead with the long sleeve of his coat. Beaming at Greg he took the other man’s hand in his and started walking towards the high street. ‘Besides, spitters are quitters.’

Greg froze as he gave the taller man an uncomprehending look. ‘But- but you said- How can you know about spittters are quitters?’

Mycroft just smiled as his boyfriend stuttered, and gave him a loving look that told him to don’t be so daft and ignorant.

‘We never practised any form of fellation “competitions” during Halloween when I went to public school. That would just have been silly.’ The politician planted a quick kiss on Greg’s cheek and continued to grin at his lack of comprehension. ‘Those kinds of idle pleasures were reserved for Christmas.’