Chapter Text
Greg lounged on the bed, propped on one elbow, watching his husband march back and forth from closet to his travel bags. Two lay sprawled open, potential contents scattered around them, on the bench at the end of their bed. The suits had a carrier that turned into a suitcase but the various shirt and tie combinations -- and all the other accessories: cufflinks, pocket square, socks -- had to be properly coordinated (not matched, Greg had made that mistake only once), then folded and packed.
The bags were surprisingly empty so far. That was because various suits and shirts and ties were draped on every possible surface. Mycroft had once tried explaining to him which combinations of shirt shades and tie colors were key to either soothe or annoy other delegates, but Greg had filed that under "things only Mycroft is smart enough to understand" and promptly forgotten all of it.
Mycroft had been at this for a while, and Greg thought he was probably too wound up to be effective any more. That was his gift, soothing his Holmes, and more importantly, knowing when to do so. He slowly stood up. Calm, that was the key.
Greg stopped Mycroft's pacing. He gently took the items from his arms and laid them on the bags. "Enough for tonight, love. You've got time tomorrow before you leave."
"I would feel better finishing."
"Maybe, but you're not getting any closer. Let's go to bed. We could both use the sleep. Your alarm is set. And my backup alarm is set."
Mycroft stepped into Greg's arms and nuzzled his neck briefly before responding, "I've told you - I can get up without disturbing you."
"Oh, no, I get to say goodbye and 'au revoir'. Now, why don't you finish this in the morning after you get some rest."
"I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep." Mycroft muttered into Greg's shoulder.
"You're a swan, aren't you? Smooth and graceful to view, and paddling madly underneath."
"You are far too aware of my secrets."
Greg grinned. "Am I a threat to national security yet? C'mon, lay down with me. I can help, know a great way to help you sleep. Put on what you feel most comfy in and get ready for bed."
Mycroft vanished into the en-suite while Greg stripped down to his pants and climbed under the sheets. He put his hands behind his head, settling back against the pillows and waiting for his husband to finish his routine. Soon enough, Mycroft was back, wearing a pair of silk pajamas.
"Nope, no go, sweetheart, shirt off." Greg made a circular gesture with his hand. Mycroft rolled his eyes but complied. Greg whistled, which Mycroft responded to with a loving glare.
Once Mycroft was under the covers, with the lights off, Greg scooted closer. He gently kissed Mycroft before guiding him to turn onto his side, facing away from him. "Comfy, love?" received an agreeable "mmmm" in response.
Greg put his arms around Mycroft and snuggled up, his chest to Mycroft's back. Greg kissed the freckled shoulders he loved as he wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist. He began stroking slowly up and down Mycroft's chest, aiming to soothe without tickling. As he felt Mycroft relax, letting go of his tension, Greg's hands dipped lower.
"This ok, love?" he asked as he toyed with the waistband of Mycroft's pajamas. Another pleased hum answered him. His hands ventured lower, stroking Mycroft's thighs, giving Mycroft's cock time and incentive to plump. As soon as it began rising, Greg began stroking it. Mycroft gave a small gasp before wriggling closer to Greg, getting more skin contact. Mycroft's hands rested lightly on Greg's forearms, for connection, not control.
Greg's hands continued stroking Mycroft below the waist, feeling him grow. His breathing was getting faster, the sound of which made Greg happy. His fingers lightly cupped the tip of Mycroft's cock, gathering the first drops of precum to keep his movements feeling smooth against Mycroft's most sensitive skin.
It didn't take long, wound up as Mycroft had been and knowing as Greg was of his husband, for Mycroft to tense. Greg, clever planner that he was, had tucked some tissues behind himself while waiting for Mycroft to come to bed. Just before he began pulsing, Greg reached behind himself for them, then continued stroking while preparing to catch Mycroft's release. This was, after all, an exercise in relaxation, and climbing out of bed to clean up wouldn't help that goal.
Mycroft came, sighing out a long breath and slumping against Greg, temporarily boneless. Greg carefully wiped him clean, then tossed the tissues onto the floor. They'd deal with that tomorrow. "You relaxed enough to sleep now, sweetheart?"
Once again, "mmmm" was the answer he got. Greg smiled to himself, before closing his eyes and joining Mycroft in slumber.