There’s no surrender, 'cause there’s no retreat
Commited!Series:
The Longest Time - Greg has wanted you for the longest time.
You - You and Greg sneak a moment after spending some time apart.
Secrets - Greg doesn’t want to be a secret any longer.
Drunk Dial - Greg drunk dials your ex-husband after the Christmas Party
Crossing Lines - Your ex-husband shows up at Greg's apartment.
It’s three in the morning when the phone on Greg’s desk starts to ring. It’s his fourth weekend on shift as Gold Commander and he’s dealing with the paperwork from another major incident, because this is London and apparently you can’t go five minutes without one. He doesn’t even get to leave the Yard when something kicks off, instead he gets sequestered to the Control Room to strategically manage the event.
“Lestrade.” He mutters, cradling the phone under his chin as he continues typing.
“Hey it’s me.” You say and he finds himself smiling. “Look outside.”
He heads to the window, using his fingers to separate the blinds so that he can peer out the window. You’re standing on the steps outside, bundled up against the cold in your beanie and his grey scarf. You hold up two cups of take-out coffee and something warm just blossoms in his chest because despite the shit Castor’s throwing at the two of you, you’re both putting in the effort to make it work.
A couple of days after the confrontation at his apartment you’d found yourself transferred from the Yard to Whitehall CID, covering the night shift. You were appealing the decision, but the process took time. The result is you’re working opposite shifts and Greg’s covering weekends until further notice. It makes seeing each other tough but you refuse to surrender because this relationship, it means the world to the both of you.
You’re a sight for sore eyes. Your cheeks are flushed from the cool air, and you look beautiful under the lights from the sign. It’s been a couple of days since he’s laid eyes on you, and he misses you fiercely.
“Hi.” He murmurs, leaning in close.
The scent of his aftershave floods your senses, something masculine with a smoky undertone. The heat from his body rolls off his skin and it ignites something inside of you, because it’s been a few weeks since you’ve been with this man, and you miss the sensation of his skin pressing against yours. His fingertips guide your chin up so that your lips are inches apart, when he kisses you it’s soft and tender, everything you’ve been missing over the past couple of days. You moan into his mouth, and you feel him smile as his thumb chases along the line of your jaw.
“You’ve no idea how much I want to take you to bed right now.” He tells you, his nose trailing along the length yours.
“We both know it would take longer than the ten minutes we have.” You tease him as you hand him the takeout cup of coffee from the Costa vending machine in 24-hour Tesco Express.
One of the most challenging parts of working the nightshift finding places to get supplies at stupid o’clock in the morning.
“I don’t know.” He smiles, his fingertips trailing over the fabric of the scarf as he gives you a heated look. “I kind of like the challenge, me down on my knees…”
The blush that creeps up your cheeks is fucking adorable.
“I mean if you think you could do it in ten minutes…” You murmur, your gaze straying back to the building.
His fingers thread through yours as he draws you towards the entrance.
“Ten minutes.” He promises you. “Ten minutes in my office is all I need.”
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