† Novel : Mycroft leaned into his comfortable leather chair as he ticked his fingers along the rim; the expression held onto his face was such savaging expression rather than the usual ‘ice man’. He had to admit he was a bit shock the very first time he saw Anthon out of his suit or lab cloth. With every movement Anthon made those lovely muscles flexed smoothly along. It was an image deeply imprinted into Mycroft’s mind as he approached the genius who had just finished a heated tennis match in a lovely afternoon. “Bravo. It seems ‘legwork’ was shared among you and Sherlock,” Mycroft spoke with a hint of applause as he leaned heavily onto his umbrella. Anthon gave a light smile in return as he wiped off the sweat. “What surfaced to make you come out of comfort?” It was the same mocking tone as Sherlock but more leaning toward a joke among it, with the smile swinging along Anthon’s face. Mycroft was about to answer as he found his eyes fixed onto Anthon’s clay toned muscles as Anthon took off his shirt. It only made Mycroft blushed faintly as he opened his mouth to speak of something, yet nothing came out. Anthon raised his eyebrow noticing the odd movement in Mycroft as he smiled in pleased on the expression. Bugger. It only made Mycroft rotted deeper into embarrassment.
Posted on: Wed, 07 Aug 2013 16:57:45 +0000
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