All My Loving (teen!lock Johnlock/Mystrade)

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter 33

Greg's POV

I woke up before Mycroft, and I lay in the California King bed, just watching him sleep. His brown hair which had grown down to his chin was messy and spiked out in all directions. A small smile was spread across his pink lips, and his face was smooth aside from the light stubble since he hadn't had a chance to shave since we'd been on our honeymoon. 

 I ran a hand through my hair and smiled, silently thanking God for giving me my husband. Mycroft's hand found mine and he gave it a light squeeze, his eyes opening slowly. "Good morning, Love," he said with a yawn.

"Good morning, Mr. Lestrade-Holmes."

"I'll never get used to that."

"Nor will I. What are we going to do today?"

"I have a few things in mind. Shall we go get some breakfast first?"

I nodded as we got up. Mycroft got into a white shirt and black jeans, and I got into a singlet top and blue jeans. Mycroft ran a comb through his hair and I gelled mine back, then we went down to breakfast. 

We sat in the restaurant, in the exact same seats as when we were there with the school, laughing and chatting away, eating our food. I tried to find out what Mycroft had planned, but he only smiled and shook his head at me, his green eyes lighting up mischievously.

His hand stroked my thigh under the table, and I almost choked on my food. "Stop it, you tease," I laughed. 

"Stop what?"

"Stop touching me under the table," I whispered. 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

With a smirk, I reached down with my hand and cupped Mycroft's crotch in my hand. "GAH," he cried out, before masking it by clearing his throat. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because," Mycroft leaned across the table so only I could hear him,  "I might just take you on this very table at this very minute."

"I might just want you to."

Mycroft chuckled and sat back in his seat, calling on the waitress for the cheque. Once he paid, he led me out into the warm air. Gulls flew over the ocean, and people laughed on the beach as we approached it. We took off our shoes and socks, and walked along the warm sand. 

Once we were away from all the people, Mycroft went and stood under some trees. He began stripping off his clothes, and I gaped at him. "My, what are you doing?" I hissed. 

"Get down into your boxers," he told me. 

"What? Why?!" 

"Because if we tip you're not going to want to have your clothes completely saturated, are you?"

"What?"

He nodded to something behind me. I turned around and noticed two kayaks on resting near the edge of the water. "We're going in those?"

"Obviously," My said, rolling his eyes, sounding much like his younger brother. 

I stripped down to my boxers and placed my clothing beside Mycroft's. He then took my hand and led me over to the kayaks. We pushed them into the water, before getting into them. I paddled alongside my husband, and soon we were about a kilometre away from the shore. 

The sun beat down on us, but the sea breeze kept us cool. We both wore our sunglasses (Mycroft threw me a pair out of seemingly nowhere) and I hoped I wouldn't get burned by the sun.