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What's Warranted?

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“Alright. Where is it?” Greg stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His overcoat hung over his arms as they folded across his chest


Mycroft, still in his robe, glanced up from his tea and toast. “I thought you had left,” he commented before returning to the crossword puzzle he was working on.


“I did and then I realized my warrant card was missing.”


“Oh?” Mycroft filled in another word, then took a sip of his tea.


“Don’t act innocent. Where is it, David Mycroft Stuart Holmes.”


Mycroft looked up. “I’ve done nothing to warrant all four names.”


Greg snorted and tossed his overcoat on the kitchen counter.


“You’re impugning my character.” Mycroft was indignant.


Greg walked over to the table and leaned down putting his face close to Mycroft’s face. Mycroft calmly met Greg’s stare.


“What makes you think I have your warrant card?” Mycroft asked haughtily.


“You’re a repeat offender.” Greg’s voice had a rough edge.


Mycroft smiled. “True.” He admitted as his gaze drifted to Greg’s mouth. Without thought his tongue slipped out as his lower lip rolled between his teeth.


“So you admit it.” Greg growled. He tried to fight against the distraction of Mycroft’s tongue flitting between his pink lips. “What’s it going to take to get it back?”


“Nothing terribly demanding.” Mycroft murmured as he closed the distance between them, kissing Greg with soft, gentle nibbles.


Greg pressed back tipping Mycroft’s face up returning the tender slips of tongue and taking the kiss to the next level.


Mycroft gave a soft groan and pushed away from the table. Greg climbed into his lover’s lap pushing aside Mycroft’s robe and straddling the man’s thighs. His warm hands stroked Mycroft’s chest and sides feeling the firm nipples and the soft skin.


“People think you’re so proper and posh.” Greg buried his face in the crook of Mycroft’s neck. The scent of expensive aftershave filled his nose. He could hear Mycroft’s breath catch as Greg tweaked his nipples. “They’ve no idea what a devious scoundrel you really are.” He nipped and sucked small kisses down Mycroft’s neck and up the other side.


“You left the bed…” Mycroft gasped as Greg’s teeth raked the soft spot below his ear. “Too soon.” Mycroft cried out as Greg took a firmer bite near the collarbone.


“You only need have said.” Greg rumbled. He sat back and shrugged off his jacket.


Mycroft loosened the man’s tie and pulled Greg’s shirt free of his trousers. His hands slid around Greg’s middle caressing and stroking. “I did.” Mycroft’s eyes twinkled as he looked up into his beloved’s face.


Greg shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a bloody rascal.” He stood and scooped Mycroft up in his arms with a grunt.


Mycroft squealed and clung to Greg’s neck. “I thought you were needed at the Yard,” he panted when Greg reached the bedroom.


Greg laid Mycroft on the bed with a chaste kiss on his nose. He slipped off his shoes and dropped his trousers. “Something at home came up.” Greg lowered his pants revealing his hardened cock. The action earned him a roll of the eyes.


“Oh, how droll.” Mycroft wriggled out of his pants. His own erection sprung free and stood proud. Pre come glistened at the tip.


Greg paused to look at the man laid out in front of him. Mycroft stretched his long limbs then ran his hand slowly down his chest and abdomen. His actions invited Greg to enjoy the view. It took Greg’s breath away. “You. Are. Gorgeous.”


Mycroft reached up and beckoned Greg to him. “Make love to me.”


Greg didn’t need more of an invitation. He covered Mycroft with his body, kissing him deeply. Mycroft reached around to grip Greg’s arse, pulling them closer together. Jolts of pleasure shot through them as their cocks rubbed and rutted.


There was a scrabble for the lube and murmured instructions to shift this way and move that way. A pillow found its way under Mycroft’s hips and his legs wrapped around Greg.


Greg worked his way in slowly and steadily watching Mycroft’s face, rosy with arousal. Mycroft ground down on Greg, clutching at the duvet and moaning with pleasure. Greg leaned back and lifted Mycroft’s hips finding the right angle to cause his lover to writhe and plead.


Mycroft grabbed his cock pulling desperately as Greg thrust into him. “More…” he begged. “Please more…”

Greg picked up speed. He could feel his own orgasm building as he pressed in and pulled out. Mycroft’s tight heat felt unimaginably good. His rhythm began to falter just as Mycroft came with a deafening howl.


The sight of his lover wrecked and spent drove Greg over the edge. He collapsed onto Mycroft, his release causing him to shudder and shiver.


They lay together quietly. Mycroft worked a hand up under Greg’s shirt to stroke his lover’s back.


“M’goin’ need a new shirt,” Greg mumbled in Mycroft’s ear.


“Likely,” Mycroft agreed.


Slowly Greg sat up and stripped off his shirt. He used it to give him and Mycroft a cursory cleaning. He dropped it on the floor before laying back down to cuddle up to Mycroft.


Mycroft welcomed Greg into his arms. Drowsy and relaxed they held each other enjoying the skin-to-skin contact. Occasional soft kisses were exchanged and long loving looks.


After several minutes Greg ventured a question. “So, where is it?” he whispered in Mycroft’s ear.


“Where’s what?” Mycroft squirmed as Greg’s nose nuzzled in his ear.


“My warrant card.” Lips teased and tugged on Mycroft’s tender lobe. “Remember, that’s how this whole thing started.”


“I thought it started during our tete-a-tete in the warehouse all those years ago.”


Greg stopped his explorations of Mycroft’s ear to sit up and gaze at the man. “Git.” Greg murmured fondly. “Where is it?”


Mycroft smiled smugly. “I imagine where you left it last. The inner pocket of the suit jacket you wore yesterday.”


“My jacket? Wait, you mean you didn’t steal it?” Greg sat completely upright


“Gregory, why would I do such a childish thing?” Mycroft’s blue eyes were wide with innocence.


“Because you… Nope, never mind. Not going there with you. Why did you say you took it?”


“I never did say. You assumed my answers were admissions of guilt.” Greg groaned loudly and stalked across the room to find yesterday’s jacket. Mycroft propped himself up on his elbows to admire the view. “Really Detective Inspector, you should be much better at this.”


Greg shot Mycroft an evil glare chastening the other man. He found his jacket and fished out his warrant card.


“See, right where I left it.”


Greg held the card up between two fingers and scrutinized Mycroft. “Come again?”


“Right where you left it.”


“No, that isn’t what you said.”


Mycroft frowned. “It is.”


“No, it isn’t. You said, ‘Right where I left it.’”


“Yes, right where you left it.” Mycroft confirmed.


Greg moved back to the bed to stand over Mycroft. He stared down at Mycroft challenging him to continue the charade. Mycroft stared back, meeting Greg’s eyes and giving as good as he was getting. Greg felt himself starting to get aroused again. Greg opened his mouth, and then saw the mischievous gleam in his partner’s eyes. He paused. Mycroft smirked, leading Greg to roll his eyes and huff. “You’re an absolute tosser, you know that.”


“Yes.” Mycroft bit his lip and shifted slightly. Greg noticed he wasn’t the only one enjoying the game. “Still love me?”


“Everyday more and more, I warrant.” Greg pulled Mycroft up kissing him soundly. A contented hum vibrated out of Mycroft’s throat and he curled against Greg’s chest. “God help me.” Greg murmured. “I really do.”