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Mycroft's cell phone rang just a little after twelve. He rose and crossed to his office door, the clunk of the lock a quiet reassurance.
His smile was fully formed as he tapped the answer icon.
“Gregory.”
“Hi, Myc.” Two words, and Mycroft's heart seemed to exhale in response. “You good to talk?”
“Yes, most of the staff is out to lunch. Anthea as well.”
“That on your say so?”
“Of course.” Mycroft returned to his desk, settling in the leather chair with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I can't spare the time myself. Committee session on Monday, you know. Precious little time to sort my notes.”
A huff came through the speaker, the warmth in it a pleasure to hear. Just that much was effortless in casting Mycroft’s thoughts to an unassuming NSY office, imagining the man reclining back in his seat much like Mycroft was, his smile lazy and his attention miles away.
”Guess I should ring later then,” came the drawled reply, “let you get on with it.”
“Perhaps. Truthfully, I finished with that business two hours ago.” Mycroft shifted with a catlike stretch. “I believe I've earned a well-timed distraction.”
“Mycroft Holmes, swinging the lead?”
“Slow days occur even in government, Gregory. Rather advantageous to our purposes, wouldn't you say?”
Laughter rumbled up, not a trace of shame to be found. The same kind often breathed against his ear in the dark as he was being coaxed back against the pillows, close and warm as their bare skin.
Legs around me, Myc. That's it...
Mycroft blinked, taking in a breath. “Apologies, could you repeat that?”
“I said, you okay so far? Any issues?”
“Ah.” Mycroft smiled, relaxing. He glanced down, flexing the fingers of his hand where they rested against his knee. He drew them up his thigh, sliding in between his legs. Past the swell tenting his trousers, feeling out the flat base settled snug against intimate terrain.
“No issues,” he murmured, circling with a fingertip. “An excellent choice per usual, Gregory.”
The Greg in Mycroft's mind's eye grinned, doing that maddening little flick of tongue beneath his upper lip.
“Sounds like it was worth every penny.”
Mycroft hummed in assent. The fullness had a pleasing edge to it - unobtrusive enough not to interfere with his focus, but unmistakably there. Getting it in that morning had nearly made him late for work; painstaking minutes sprawled on his bed, still damp from the shower and panting as the toy eased in.
“A most agreeable experience thus far. I’ve been remiss not to try it sooner.”
“Just needed the proper incentive, eh?”
“Or the proper person to entice me,” Mycroft said, feeling loose limbed and loose lipped, and glad for both. “You ought to do it more often.”
“Can do it right now, f’you like.”
Mycroft laughed on an outward breath. “You're an appalling influence, Gregory.”
“And don’t you sound put out by it.”
You utter…. Mycroft bit his lip. He had half a mind to send for a car; have Greg smuggled in to him. Longing flushed under his skin at the thought of pressing Greg up against the nearest solid surface and dropping to his knees; dark, hungry eyes, and a firm hand pressing at the back of his neck…
“Is this why you called then? To further wind me up?” Over the line, Mycroft caught the creak of Greg's chair (Greg resettling his weight back), a rasp of fabric (loosening his collar?). He ached to know more than what he could make out by just listening.
“Wanted to check in, make sure you're alright. Hear your voice.”
“Kind,” Mycroft murmured.
“And maybe wanted to wind you up a bit.” Greg laughed at Mycroft's scoff, his grin so obvious as to be audible.
“I'm quite alright, thank you. Though you're making patience something of a virtue at the moment.”
“Promise I'll make it worth the wait.” Greg smiled in the quiet. “Thank you, for this. I love you, yeah?”
Mycroft’s pulse quickened, soft and adoring. There was nothing for it, anymore than he could force his heart into stopping all together.
“And I you.”
The magnitude of it nearly took his breath.
“You know, you got me thinking...”
“Mm, my breath is bated.”
Greg laughed. “Y'cheeky prat. Anyway, I'm getting the sense the rest of your day's looking pretty open.”
“By the graces of timing and luck, yes.”
“Well, as it turns out, so's mine.”
“...Oh?”
“Yup. Paperwork from the last case is all sorted, nothing new on just yet. And I've already been promised the weekend off. Don't think anyone would even mind if I just knocked off for the rest of the day.” Greg's voice dropped low, phantom warm against Mycroft's ear. “What if we both did, Myc? You and me. Get the weekend started early.”
Mycroft took a breath, knowing he was visibly flushed. But still considering.
It wouldn't be the first time he'd left the office for non-work reasons. Lord knew Sherlock's antics had seen him called away on several occasions.
“That - does sound rather appealing.”
Another smile. “Yeah?”
And really, almost any issue that might arise needing his attention could be handled by phone...
“If I agreed, how soon could you leave?”
“How soon can you?”
Anthea would need to be texted, given an appropriate 'explanation'. No helping the inevitable questions, if she didn't just read between the lines right away. Likely she'd demand to hear a few of the more sordid details afterwards, but it was a small price to pay.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
Greg hummed in response, his desk chair squeaking in the background as he stood.
“Hey, remind me how long's the drive from your office to my place?”
“Thirty minutes. Forty if traffic disagrees.”
“And the car's got that privacy screen?”
Mycroft raised a brow.
“Yes... Why?”
“Ah, nothing, just wondered.”
“Gregory-” He sensed Greg biting his lip in hesitation.
“It was supposed to be a surprise for tonight, but – I mean, if you were up for it-”
“I’ve had something close to three inches of silicone sitting cosy in my arse since before my morning tea,” Mycroft said dryly. “I think you’ll find I’m up for a number of things at the moment.”
“Well, what if I mentioned there’re a few, uh - extra features included with those three inches?”
Mycroft's heart momentarily self-detonated. It took him a second to respond.
“Such as?”
“It's remote play enabled.”
“...Go on.”
“Multiple vibration patterns and intensity levels. Plus programmable ones.”
“And - you could - from anywhere?”
Greg grinned. “I've already got the app loaded on my phone. Could be a nice little warm-up for you on route to mine.”
“Good God.” Mycroft half groaned it, unable to help his shiver as some wonderfully filthy combination of a growl and a chuckle rose from Greg’s throat. “Greg...”
“Mm, love when you say my name like that. So?”
Mycroft closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose. It wouldn't do much to calm him for the walk out of the office.
But still.
“I'll call you in the car,” he said.