Work Text:
Greg jumped with a squeal as he entered 221B to find Mycroft Holmes looming in the doorway.
"Christ, Mycroft, sorry. I was expecting Sherlock and John."
He swept past Mycroft, into the living room. "They're not here?" he enquired, peering into the kitchen and finding no sign of either man.
Mycroft smirked, shaking his head. "No, Gregory, they are not." he replied calmly. "I believe the good doctor is working at the surgery, and my brother was called away for a while." he continued, placing his umbrella against the door frame.
"Oh." Greg looked slightly confused. "I must have got it wrong." He frowned, trying to remember what exactly John had said in the pub last night.
"Gregory. I have barely seen you all week." Mycroft took three steps towards Greg, his arms outstretched, beckoning his own detective close. "You've been running around after my brother, and I've missed you."
Greg stepped into the inviting arms of his lover, sliding his hands behind Mycroft's neck and pulling him in close for a long, lingering kiss.
Mycroft groaned greedily and snaked his fingers into Greg's hair, pressing his tongue against the other's, begging entry.
Greg opened willingly, pressing himself against Mycroft, whose cock was stirring and hardening in his trousers.
A door opened behind them, and a dark baritone chuckled.
"Hello, brother."