Chapter Four: Kisses and Fights

Author's Note: This chapter is for DarkStarr7713, who needs a little bit of fluff with her boys.

x

Mycroft threw his mug across the kitchen, watching it shatter against the wall. His heart beat heavily and he dropped to sit, sucking back on his cigarette quickly.

No, no, no, he couldn't think about Greg, not now. No, it had been... it had been weeks since he'd thought about Greg.

Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut against the hurt and pain and anger. Greg... his Greg... gone. Mycroft felt tears threaten to break free and a sob made his chest heave. Even after everything, even after all these years, Greg was still a very big part of his heart.

And Mycroft just couldn't forget him.

Mycroft giggled again and slopped alcohol down his front. 'Oh, I quite like this shirt.' He wasn't drunk, of course, but he was having fun. He was having fun and he wasn't high! It was a first for Mycroft.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself. And then there was Greg.

The man, only three years older than Mycroft, was smart and funny and very, very attractive. As the night wore on Mycroft could no longer deny that he found Greg extremely sexy. The fact that he seemed to like Mycroft only heightened it.

'Quite,' Greg snorted. 'What are you, fifty?'

'I am twenty, thank you very much,' Mycroft scowled.

'Hey, I'm just saying.'

'I'm sick of people underestimating me because of my age,' Mycroft sighed.

'Is that a big thing in your line of work?'

Mycroft nodded and downed half his drink. Nobody ever took Mycroft seriously. He was young and looked it; everybody thought he was an idiot, just a pretty face. Well, that was before he broke them down in five seconds with his deductions.

'I work for the government,' he found himself telling Greg.

'Ooh, are you a spy?'

Mycroft smirked. 'Greg, even if I was I couldn't tell you.'

'Do you have a licence to kill?'

'You'll have to use your imagination.' He did, in fact, have a licence to kill. But he couldn't tell that to some stranger in a club.

Greg chuckled and sipped his drink. 'Well I take you very seriously.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

'Mm... you look very serious in those trousers.'

Mycroft blushed, not the first time that night. Everything Greg said had the ability to make Mycroft's crotch warm and his skin tingle. But he couldn't give into these feelings and gulped.

'Greg, I'm not gay.'

'Neither am I.'

He was, Mycroft could tell. Well, he was at least bisexual. 'Then why are you buying me drinks?' Mycroft asked with a frown. Surely Greg was buying him drinks in the hope it led to sex.

'Can't one man buy another man a drink without it leading to sexual intercourse?'

'I suppose so,' Mycroft said slowly, his brain failing to work out just what was happening. Greg was clearly interested, Mycroft could tell... was he hoping to turn Mycroft?

He wouldn't have to try very hard, he thought before shaking his head.

Greg smiled and bought Mycroft another drink, Mycroft smiling and sipping it.

-oOo-

They were both close to being completely sloshed when an older man came over, all smiles and winking. Mycroft looked up at the new man as Greg scowled.

'Hey there, gorgeous.'

'Hello,' Mycroft squeaked, looking down quickly. He didn't really know what to do. Why were so many men checking him out tonight?

'The name's Len. Can I buy you a drink?' the man asked.

'No, no thank you, I have one,' Mycroft said and held up his half full glass. Greg grinned but Mycroft couldn't figure out why.

'Come on, drop curly here and come be with a real man,' Len said.

Mycroft felt his cheeks darken and he shifted uncomfortable on his stool. 'No, I'm quite alright.'

'Come on.'

'No,' Mycroft insisted, hoping he wouldn't have to get physical to get rid of the man. His superiors really hated it when he used his skills on drunken idiots.

Len reached forward and grabbed Mycroft's chin, dragging his face up. 'Come on, cutie.'

Before Mycroft could retaliate, Greg was on his feet and pushing Len back. Mycroft stared with wide-eyes as Greg snarled, 'The man said no.'

'What are you, his boyfriend?' Len asked, looking to make sure he hadn't spilt his drink.

'Yeah, I am,' Greg said and Mycroft jumped, turning to stare at Greg. He knew Greg was lying just to get rid of Len but... Mycroft had liked it, liked the sound of it. He blushed when he realised he didn't mind Greg calling him his boyfriend.

'Come on, I just wanna touch his pretty mouth,' Len said.

'The man said no,' Greg growled.

Len shoved Greg back roughly and he bumped into Mycroft, who yelped and hit the bar. Suddenly Len had Mycroft around the arm and was dragging him up.

'Let me go!' Mycroft shouted, trying to pull the man's fingers free. He was panicking, letting his fear cloud his head. He knew how to disable a man fifty different ways but his brain was going too fast, it wouldn't let him focus.

'Come fuck a real man,' Len slurred.

Suddenly Len was being pushed back and Mycroft looked up just in time to see Greg's fist connect with the drunk's face. Len fell into a group of girls, all of them squealing as alcohol went everywhere.

Mycroft shuddered, rubbing his arm where Len had touched him.

'Don't fucking touch him!' Greg snarled, Mycroft looking to see that the older man looked practically murderous.

'You little fucker!' Len shouted, dropping his drink and advancing on Greg.

Mycroft realised Len was going to hit Greg. No, he couldn't have that, he couldn't let the man lay even a single finge on Greg. Not Greg, no.

Suddenly Mycroft was between them, his training once more kicking in. He twisted Len's arm back and tripped him, forcing the man to the floor. Mycroft pushed a foot into his back and turned his arm until he heard a crack.

'Don't you dare hit him!' Mycroft hissed, fury radiating through his body. How dare this piece of shit even think about hitting Greg. Len whimpered and Mycroft twisted his hand around more. One more twist, just a few millimetres, and he'd snap the idiot's wrist...

'Myc, let him go,' Greg suddenly said, stepping forward.

'No,' Mycroft snarled, 'he was going to hurt you.'

Greg rested a hand on the taller man's shoulder and felt Mycroft flinch. God was Greg's hand warm, and hard and... Mycroft felt heat pool in his gut.

'Come on, let's get out of here.'

Greg's words finally made it to his brain and Mycroft nodded. No sooner had he let Len go then Greg was grabbing his hand, dragging him through the crowd and to the doors.

They stumbled into the cold night and started running, putting as much distance between themselves and the club as they could. They made it a few streets before Greg tugged Mycroft into an alley and forced him against the wall.

Mycroft grunted but made no attempt to move, not even when Greg forced his hands above his head. Adrenalin was pumping through his body, making everything fast and fun and crystal clear.

'Why'd you do that?' Greg asked.

'He was going to hit you,' Mycroft said. Surely that was obvious.

'So? I can handle myself.'

'So can I,' Mycroft frowned.

'Yeah, I saw that,' Greg said and licked his lips. Mycroft's eyes zeroed in on them and his face felt hotter. 'Who taught you how to do that?'

'The training comes with my job,' he said without thinking.

'Spy?' Greg asked.

Mycroft snorted. 'I already told you, Greg.'

'No, you avoided the subject.'

'Hmm, so that means I must be a spy.'

They shared a chuckle and eyed each other, both aware their bodies were pressed together. Suddenly Greg shifted and Mycroft felt something poke into his stomach. His eyes went wide as Greg blushed and dropped Mycroft's hands.

'I'm sor–'

Mycroft couldn't stand it anymore; he had to kiss Greg. Suddenly his parents, his job, none of that mattered. He didn't care if his parents stopped talking to him because he liked men and he didn't care what anyone at work thought.

Right then and there, kissing Greg was all that mattered.

Mycroft pressed their lips together, his eyes closed, and herd Greg groan. Suddenly there was a tongue on his lips and Mycroft shuddered.

Greg pulled back first, eyes wide and panting. Mycroft felt his own breath coming in short gasps, despite the kiss not being very long.

'What?' he asked. Did Greg not want to kiss him? Had he misread the other man?

'I... I thought you weren't gay,' Greg said.

'I thought you weren't either but your cock seems to say otherwise.' Mycroft didn't even know where the words came from. He didn't swear, not him.

Well, he also didn't make out with men in alleyways.

But he was. And he wanted to do it again.

Greg swallowed. 'You... you're fucking hot.'

'So are you,' Mycroft admitted.

'You're attracted to me?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

'Right,' Greg said.

'Erm... what do we do?' Mycroft asked. He was out of his element here, he'd never done this with another man. Even with women he'd never initiated it.

Suddenly Greg pushed Mycroft back against the wall and kissed him. He groaned when Mycroft wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling Greg closer. The older man's lips were hot, his tongue wet as he licked his way into Mycroft's mouth. His hands threaded through Mycroft's hair and pulled, Mycroft moaning and thrusting his crotch forward.

Mycroft heard Greg moan when his cock hit the older man's waist. Mycroft smiled, amazed that he could do that to another man.

Greg pulled back suddenly and smiled, looking down at Mycroft's lips. Mycroft was panting, his eyes wide as he looked Greg over.

'Are you sure about this?' Greg asked, voice husky with lust. 'I'll stop if you aren't... if you are, I'm never, ever stopping.'

Mycroft stared at him, not sure what to say. He couldn't deny that he wanted this; he wanted to feel Greg's lips on his own, and his naked skin too. He wanted to feel his cock and his arse and...

Who was Mycroft kidding? He'd never liked women, had never liked having sex with them. He liked men, he liked Greg. He liked Greg's slim hips and broad-shoulders and... he liked everything.

Nothing else mattered; not his family or job, not even the drugs. In that moment he ceased being Mycroft Holmes, the bored politician, the brilliant genius.

He was Myc; a guy who liked other men and who wanted Greg to kiss him again.

He was a guy who actually had fun.

So he swallowed carefully and said, 'Don't stop, please.'

Greg forced their lips back together, Myc moaning as Greg's tongue darted into his mouth. Though he loved it and never wanted to stop, Myc felt like he had to be honest with Greg.

'I've never... had sex... with a man...' he managed to mumble, tilting his head and sucking back on Greg's tongue. God, how had he gone so long without tasting another man? It was wonderful and filled Myc with a kind of heat he'd never felt before.

'Me either,' Greg admitted.

Myc found that surprising but didn't care in the least. Greg seemed sure of himself and that was enough for him. 'I want you to fuck me,' he said, 'now, please.'

Greg smiled against his lips. 'Are you always so polite when asking for sex?'

God, would people ever get over the fact that he was polite? 'Fuck me now!' he hissed instead.

Greg grinned and pulled back, grabbing Myc's wrist. His hand was warm and calloused and Myc felt his heart pumping painfully fast as he looked up at the other man.

'Come on, my place is around the corner.'

Myc grinned as Greg tugged him from the alley and down the street, both their hearts jumping.