#background johnlock

"It doesn't look that hard."

Greg looked up from the screen to look at Mycroft. A huff escaped him.

"What?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "Kissing someone?" Mycroft met Greg's eyes, slowly. A slight frown formed on his face.

"Kissing someone you hold no greater affection for."

Greg's eyes fell onto the screen once more, rewatching the scene.

Sherlock and John.

Sherlock, kissing John.

John, freezing at first, then kissing back.

Hands finding each other, soft and gentle.

And guns directed at them... but...

"Yes, they played for time and my team got there just in time-" Greg said, eyes still on the screen, as the scene started once more. "-but they are most certainly not faking it."

"How would you know, Detective Inspector?" Mycroft asked and Greg noticed the breathless sound of it. Greg turned to the other man, who was sitting behind his desk.

"I have loved before, Mr Holmes," he explained. "I remember the smiles. I remember the shy glances at each other. I remember the not-so-subtle touches when they thought nobody noticed. I remember the readiness to do anything for the other person." Greg breathed in deeply. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Mycroft's eyes roamed over Greg's face. His lips were slightly parted.

Mycroft's back straightened slightly and he cleared his throat.

"And you have seen this between my brother and John?"

A slow smile spread on Greg's lips and he leaned against a cabinet.

"I can see it between many people-" the salt-and-pepper-haired man said. "-between John and Sherlock as well." Greg planted his hands behind himself.on the cabinet. "They have been dancing around each other for years now." Mycroft's eyes began to drift, and Greg noticed the other man staring at the little statue on the dresser across the room.

"I suppose I will need to congratulate my brother on finding his-" he stopped for a moment and furrowed his brows. "-person." Greg couldn't hold back a soft chuckle.

"Let them settle in this new dynamic before you reach out. Just like you would with a new politician."

For another heartbeat, Mycroft's eyes stayed on the statue before he turned his head towards Greg again and gently nodded.

"I suppose this is a suitable plan," mumbled the older Holmes brother.

Greg's eyes landed on the clock above the door. He cleared his throat.

"If we are finished with our debriefing, I would like to go home." As much as a single-room flat could be considered home, Greg thought.

"Yes, of course," Mycroft said with a nod. For a second, Greg waited. Something deep inside him hoped for another word from Mycroft, but then he pushed himself from the cabinet. He grabbed the jacket he had thrown on one of the chairs earlier and started to walk towards the door.

Greg was holding the door handle when he heard of Mycroft's chair scrape against the floor.

"Detective Inspect- Greg."

Greg stopped.

He turned his head slowly, one eyebrow raised.

Mycroft was now standing, his fingertips resting lightly on his desk.

"Yes?" Greg asked and he felt his heartbeat quicken without his consent.

"Are you open to helping with an experiment?"

"And here I thought Sherlock was the only Holmes brother who experiments," Greg chuckled, slowly turning further towards Mycroft.

"Sherlock asked you to kiss him for an experiment?" Mycroft's voice had suddenly gotten louder and surprisingly uneven. Greg's brows furrowed.

"What?" he asked, his voice slightly higher. "No, of course not! Why would you even think that?" With one hand, Greg ran through his hair. "Even if Sherlock asked, I would never kiss someone I don't-" Greg stopped short. He turned his head slightly and cleared his throat. "Well, what kind of experiment is on your mind?"

Mycroft swallowed visibly, his fingertips drumming gently against his desk.

"I would like to find out whether it's as simple as it looks.." he whispered, his eyes focused on the screen that still played and replayed John's and Sherlock's kiss. Greg's heart stopped for a second before it began to beat painfully strong against his ribcage. Was Mycroft even aware of what he was asking Greg? Greg wondered. His legs started to move before his brain had fully worked through Mycroft's request. Maybe in the end he was a masochist, Greg thought.

Greg rounded the desk and stopped in front of the other man. Mycroft carefully turned his way.

"Stop me if you think the experiment is completed, will you?" he asked carefully, slowly looking Mycroft in the eye. Eyes that were blown wide. A breath trembled out of Mycroft and he nodded.

The salt-and-pepper-haired man lifted one hand slowly. At first, his fingertips brushed Mycroft's warm neck just above the shirt collar. A visible shiver ran through Mycroft's body and a grin spread on Greg's lips. His hand landed at the back of Mycroft's neck and Greg pulled him gently closer. They were closer than ever before. So close that Greg was able to feel Mycroft's breath against his lips.

"Mycroft?"

"Yes," Mycroft answered, barely a whisper.

Greg leaned in and met the other man's lips. His free hand travelled towards Mycroft's waist, pulling him further in. Their bodies were pressed together now and Greg had to grab every last bit of self-control that was left in him to not moan right into Mycroft's mouth. Instead, he began to move his lips slowly. After a few long seconds, Mycroft returned the kiss and both of his hands found their way to Greg's cheeks. A satisfied hum escaped Greg's throat before he could fight it and the hand on Mycroft's waist tightened on its own.

For a heartbeat, their lips lost touch so both men could breathe. Mycroft pulled Greg in and pressed their lips together once more. His thumb rubbed softly over the other man's cheek. Greg felt goosebumps spread down his back at the touch.

Carefully, Greg turned them, pressing Mycroft against the edge of the work desk. The other man breathed in sharply but continued to kiss him back. The hand that had rested on Mycroft's neck began to move. Greg traced a featherlight touch his spine down and a low groan escaped Mycroft's throat. Greg felt warmth spread in his chest. He had forgotten how good it felt to be so close to another person. It had been years since he last experienced it and it had never felt so good.

One of Mycroft's hands slipped from Greg's cheek towards his chest just above his fast-beating heart.

Greg pulled his head back slowly and lowered the hand on Mycroft's back to steady himself against the desk.

"Do you think-" Greg began, his breath heavy. "-this will be enough for your experiment?" He stared at Mycroft's collarbone which was just peaking out of his shirt. He couldn't look the other man in the eyes.

Mycroft's hand on his chest twitched and Greg's eyes fell onto it. Mycroft's hand on his body looked just right.

"No," Mycroft said, his voice too loud for the quiet room. Greg's eyes shot up.

"What?"

Mycroft cleared his throat and then uttered: "This experiment has failed." Greg swallowed thickly and started to pull away.

"No, not failed. My thesis had been wrong," Mycroft continued softly. "How could I try finding out whether it's hard to kiss someone I hold no greater affection for when the participant is the one I've been falling for?" Greg stopped moving and finally met the other man's eyes, eyes that held a softness in them Greg had never seen before. His heart stopped for a beat and a shiver ran down his spine.

"That's certainly one way to confess," he whispered, but a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "And I hope you will not try to recreate the experiment with some stranger." Greg's hand found Mycroft's hand on his cheek and intertwined their fingers. A soft smile tugged at Mycroft's lips.

"I would not dare, Greg," he whispered, slowly pulling the other man closer. Greg's smile widened before he leaned in and gently kissed Mycroft's.