{"id":134657,"date":"2015-09-26T08:23:15","date_gmt":"2015-09-26T08:23:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.merindab.com\/private\/2015\/09\/26\/reign\/"},"modified":"2015-09-26T08:23:15","modified_gmt":"2015-09-26T08:23:15","slug":"reign","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.merindab.com\/private\/2015\/09\/26\/reign\/","title":{"rendered":"Reign"},"content":{"rendered":"

mydwynter<\/a>:<\/p>\n

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\"image\"<\/figure>\n<\/p>\n

[Inspired by the marvellous art of<\/a> camillo1978<\/a>, with my appreciation and thanks]<\/i><\/p>\n

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Reign<\/b><\/h2>\n

The walls were still ringing with the sound of every single goddamn thing on Mycroft\u2019s desk hitting the floor at once. Greg was particularly worried whether the red telephone had fallen off the hook; he didn\u2019t think whoever was at the other end was bound to appreciate their manner of celebration. He was also concerned that Mycroft hadn\u2019t secured the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou really don\u2019t care if we get caught.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are seven stories underground and my staff are meticulously trained. No one is going to come in here, Gregory.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNgh. Well.\u201d Hands. Everywhere. And a mouth that was doing marvellous things to his throat. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t say that.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was obvious when Mycroft finally got the joke, because he stopped. He stared. He sighed. \u201cMust you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Greg tried to look innocent in spite of the thud of his heart and the state of his trousers. \u201cOf course I must.\u201d He tsked. \u201cIt\u2019s like you don\u2019t even know me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI could know you a lot better if you\u2019d focus instead of making jokes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I could focus a lot better if I knew you\u2019d locked the door.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m hurt that you don\u2019t trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI trust<\/i>\u00a0that you get off on being seen. But I do not. Indulge me. Lock the door.\u201d<\/p>\n

After a moment, a smile tinted Mycroft\u2019s face: subtle, inexorable, the edge of a watercolour bloom. It looked delicious against the flush creeping up past his collar. \u201cFine<\/i>. If you must know, the door is already locked.\u201d<\/p>\n

Greg would have to check that the red phone wasn\u2019t going to catch anything more salacious than state secrets. And then they could get back to the business of celebration. \u201cI suppose you do know me after all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe I just know how to get what I want.\u201d<\/p>\n

Biting down the rise of affection, Greg began to work on Mycroft\u2019s tie. \u201cI would never accuse you otherwise.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat,\u201d Mycroft said, ducking in to work more of those marvels against Greg\u2019s throat, \u201cis because you<\/i>\u00a0know me<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Which was all the conversation they had breath for, because with that undid Greg\u2019s zip and lit the fuse to a fireworks show the likes of which that bunker-of an-office had never seen. As Greg lay shoulder-to-shoulder with him fifteen minutes later, tired and sore and blinking away the stars dancing in his eyes, he had to laugh at them both.<\/p>\n

God Save the Queen, indeed.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

mydwynter: [Inspired by the marvellous art of camillo1978, with my appreciation and thanks] Reign The walls were still ringing with the sound of every single goddamn thing on Mycroft\u2019s desk hitting the floor at once. Greg was particularly worried whether the red telephone had fallen off the hook; he didn\u2019t think whoever was at the … <\/p>\n

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