Greg and Mycroft didn’t always share a bed. Work schedules and crazy hours and keeping up appearances meant that they were both glad for a few nights a week curled up in one another’s arms. On this particular night, Mycroft had come in late from a trip overseas and walked into Greg’s flat just as he was getting ready for bed.
After a kiss hello, Greg had handed him the spare pyjamas he kept for him and they went straight to bed. Holding him, Greg watched him fall asleep before closing his own eyes. But he slept lightly and in the wee hours he was awakened by a soft whimper. “Hey, it’s okay,” said Greg softly, kissing Mycroft’s forehead and soothing his hands down his back until finally the blue eyes opened cautiously.
He searched Greg’s face for a long moment, then they closed again with a sigh. Greg gathered him against his his chest and kissed the top of his head. Mycroft curled tightly around him. Of course the official couldn’t say anything, even if he wanted to. Greg simply held him, toying with the hairs at the nape of Mycroft’s neck until he felt the other man’s breathing start to slow again.
Greg kissed the top of his head and smiled against his skin, glad to be the safe place Mycroft Holmes could cling to.