The touch was nice; in his addled state, Greg didn't think much of it past that - it seemed perfectly natural. There was plenty to sort through just trying to think of the list of objects he used on a daily basis. "I think - toothbrush, you know. The usual rubbish. Few clothes, I guess, for when I can get back into a real shirt." He couldn't say he wasn't pleased to be leaving behind paper gowns and hospital food. "Don't need much."
But he'd have plenty, he knew. The thought of that place was still a little surreal. "You've got a massive bloody house," he pointed out, drawling a little. "Seems like you ought to have plenty of company. Not an entertainer?" It might have been the drugs or the fatigue, but the prospect of Mycroft Holmes throwing a party was inordinately amusing. It shouldn't have been.
Mycroft squeezed again, once more, before pulling back to text Anthea. They would get the keys, pack his things -- wait, they? Yes, they. He did not think Gregory would like strangers, pawing through his garments. "Very good. I'll make sure that we pack a full compliment of outfits." One corner of his mouth lifted. "So I recall."
He snorted softly, as he texted, staying close to the bed. "That would require me having friends, Gregory, and I do not have any." He paused, thought about that, before snorting again, "Except ... perhaps you." He gave the other man a winsome smile, "Shall I throw you a party for when you get out of the hospital?"
Greg just gave a little shake of his head at full compliment of outfits - ranging all the way from slacks to jeans, not exactly an impressive span, was it? But Mycroft did have his flourishes. And he met that smile with his own, raising his eyebrows with as much mock excitement as he could muster. "What, the two of us, with our no friends? Sounds like a blast. Suppose your brother could come - and Donovan. There's the entertainment taken care of."
The peace and quiet sounded appealing to him, really. The same empty hours that made him dread going home (and thus stick around his office later and later as the week went on) seemed less daunting with the possibility of - well, sharing them. It felt like coming home ought to have felt, but hadn't for a very long time. Relaxing - and goodness knew he needed some of that. He wondered if Mycroft was capable of relaxation.
"Just have a bottle of whiskey open, and I'll be happy as a clam. We can call it whatever you like." It was about what passed for a party with him these days, anyway. He grimaced again, shifting his shoulders very carefully against the pillow at his back. "Believe me, I'll be looking forward to it."
Well, he couldn't have Gregory thinking all he needed was undergarments and a toothbrush -- oh dear that was the wrong train of thought. He cleared his throat and then tilted his head at that smile, feeling his melt a bit around the edges. "My, my, this will be an entertaining little fete. We should invite John, just to keep the peace."
Mycroft was capable of relaxation - although perhaps not as Gregory saw it. They had only spent a few evenings together while Gregory had stayed with him - schedules being what they were. Still, those had been very enjoyable evenings, and he would look forward to having more of them. Gregory didn't make his thoughts ... loud. It was more easy, to be alone, it seemed.
"Bottle of whiskey, a good stake and we shall call it an exclusive dinner party for two, me thinks." He nodded his head, making a note to buy the best whiskey he could find. "What else can I do for you?"
"Nice," Greg murmured, his smile twitching up again for a moment. "Exclusive. I don't go to many exclusive things."
All joking aside, he couldn't think of anything else at all - he'd already been quite well taken care of. Better than he could have expected, to say the least. No doubt he was forgetting something, some essential detail, but things seemed so much less essential when one had just had a brush with death and was being steadily pumped full of painkillers. Keeping his eyes open was the only chore he could manage.
"I think that'll be all for now, Jeeves." He laughed; it faded out into another cough. "Really - I mean it. It's plenty. Thank you."
"Well apparently we need to change that." Mycroft murmured softly, a faint smile appearing on his lips in turn.
He rolled his eyes at the 'Jeeves' comment, even though concern flicked over his face as Gregory coughed. He took up the water glass, lifting it up so he could drink again.
"You need to take it easy, Gregory. Your healing process may take some time." He soothed, gently nudging him back against the pillows. "I believe the best I can do for you right now - is to let you get more sleep."
"I can do that," Greg replied, nodding his thanks for the water and settling back obligingly. No one would have to twist his arm. "Like a champ."
And maybe when he woke up, he'd have more of his wits about him; maybe then he'd think of something better to say. He'd have plenty of time to come up with it, no doubt, even if it was just a hundred different ways to say: thank you. And a bit of work here and there, of course. But somehow, that wasn't foremost on his mind.
"You'll be tired, too," he added, with a slightly rueful smile - naturally it hadn't been the first thing that crossed his mind when he came to, but it ought to have occurred to him. "Glad you were here, though." He felt, somehow, as though he were in better hands.
Mycroft's lips curved into a wry and warm smile, before he put the cup back down on the table, "Good, although I am sure you are the champ in many other areas."
He went to pull his overcoat on, smoothing himself down to perfection to prepare himself to leave. It would not do to leave this room ... rumpled. He needed to be as together as possible.
He glanced over, as he is straightening his tie and vest. "Oh, I've gone on less sleep than this .., but I shall try to catch up." He looked at him, before his lips quirked up, "I ... didn't want you to wake up alone. I suppose that will be part of my job description for now."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But he'd have plenty, he knew. The thought of that place was still a little surreal. "You've got a massive bloody house," he pointed out, drawling a little. "Seems like you ought to have plenty of company. Not an entertainer?" It might have been the drugs or the fatigue, but the prospect of Mycroft Holmes throwing a party was inordinately amusing. It shouldn't have been.
no subject
He snorted softly, as he texted, staying close to the bed. "That would require me having friends, Gregory, and I do not have any." He paused, thought about that, before snorting again, "Except ... perhaps you." He gave the other man a winsome smile, "Shall I throw you a party for when you get out of the hospital?"
no subject
The peace and quiet sounded appealing to him, really. The same empty hours that made him dread going home (and thus stick around his office later and later as the week went on) seemed less daunting with the possibility of - well, sharing them. It felt like coming home ought to have felt, but hadn't for a very long time. Relaxing - and goodness knew he needed some of that. He wondered if Mycroft was capable of relaxation.
"Just have a bottle of whiskey open, and I'll be happy as a clam. We can call it whatever you like." It was about what passed for a party with him these days, anyway. He grimaced again, shifting his shoulders very carefully against the pillow at his back. "Believe me, I'll be looking forward to it."
no subject
Mycroft was capable of relaxation - although perhaps not as Gregory saw it. They had only spent a few evenings together while Gregory had stayed with him - schedules being what they were. Still, those had been very enjoyable evenings, and he would look forward to having more of them. Gregory didn't make his thoughts ... loud. It was more easy, to be alone, it seemed.
"Bottle of whiskey, a good stake and we shall call it an exclusive dinner party for two, me thinks." He nodded his head, making a note to buy the best whiskey he could find. "What else can I do for you?"
no subject
All joking aside, he couldn't think of anything else at all - he'd already been quite well taken care of. Better than he could have expected, to say the least. No doubt he was forgetting something, some essential detail, but things seemed so much less essential when one had just had a brush with death and was being steadily pumped full of painkillers. Keeping his eyes open was the only chore he could manage.
"I think that'll be all for now, Jeeves." He laughed; it faded out into another cough. "Really - I mean it. It's plenty. Thank you."
no subject
He rolled his eyes at the 'Jeeves' comment, even though concern flicked over his face as Gregory coughed. He took up the water glass, lifting it up so he could drink again.
"You need to take it easy, Gregory. Your healing process may take some time." He soothed, gently nudging him back against the pillows. "I believe the best I can do for you right now - is to let you get more sleep."
no subject
And maybe when he woke up, he'd have more of his wits about him; maybe then he'd think of something better to say. He'd have plenty of time to come up with it, no doubt, even if it was just a hundred different ways to say: thank you. And a bit of work here and there, of course. But somehow, that wasn't foremost on his mind.
"You'll be tired, too," he added, with a slightly rueful smile - naturally it hadn't been the first thing that crossed his mind when he came to, but it ought to have occurred to him. "Glad you were here, though." He felt, somehow, as though he were in better hands.
no subject
He went to pull his overcoat on, smoothing himself down to perfection to prepare himself to leave. It would not do to leave this room ... rumpled. He needed to be as together as possible.
He glanced over, as he is straightening his tie and vest. "Oh, I've gone on less sleep than this .., but I shall try to catch up." He looked at him, before his lips quirked up, "I ... didn't want you to wake up alone. I suppose that will be part of my job description for now."