Chapter Text
When the hour-hand passed 9:00, Albert finally reached the London War office, making his defaulted way to the Intelligence branch. It was once every week that he made an appearance there, regardless of any activity at Universal Exports. He’d been in the military for years, building the foundation for the political power he now held, treasured, in the same palm upon which he had MI-6 dancing on his whim.
Foresight had got him and his brothers everywhere. Every moment of Albert’s adult life had been predetermined by a script, that must be followed. Albert’s characteristic confidence and charm was born out of trust in the fact that he had the most control in any given situation. After all, it is well explained in The Chaos Theory, how a just a small butterfly’s wings can cause a devastating tornado, and the plan before him mustn’t suffer even a slight shiver from an uncalculated, uncontrolled breeze.
Right then, Mycroft was presenting as a full blown, definitely uncontrollable whirlwind that Albert wasn’t sure he wanted to ward off, or…well, he couldn’t very well kill off the most important man in the Imperial core of the world, but keeping the Holmes alive would mean Albert’s pulse would stay elevated as he observed the uncharacteristically tempting man before him. Mycroft had always been nice looking, sure, but in that moment the man looked more than handsome. He looked…
Albert snapped back to reality as he realised Mycroft had greeted him. “Good morning, Director,” Albert managed. “You’ve changed.”
“Ah, pardon my appearance,” Mycroft said, hiding his mischievous smirk under false sheepishness. “I had an encounter with a partner that kept me up quite late into the night, and I irresponsibly woke up late this morning.” He lied. “I do normally attempt to schedule shagging sessions for the weekend but the man was too tempting.”
A light blush climbed upon Albert’s neck where his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a fish, before he managed to sputter out a response. “Oh.”
Mycroft frowned, standing up from his chair, feigning concern. “Oh my, your face is quite flushed, are you running a fever?” he pressed the back of his hand to Albert’s forehead, and then his neck, intentionally letting his thumb brush against the other’s throat as he pulled his hand away.
“I’m alright!” Albert said, a little too loudly for his own liking. He wished he had something to report so he could divert the conversation to work, but unfortunately, all he had in mind had been a good morning and some small talk; as it always had been. The normalcy he’s hoped for however, was nowhere to be found.
“If you insist,” Mycroft shrugged. “Can I offer you something? I have coffee, water and alcohol as options, though I suppose I’d be a bad boss if I let you drink first thing in the morning at work, so which will it be- coffee or water?” He sat back onto his chair, his legs spread wider than what was considered good etiquette, as twisted the lid off a thermos flask on his desk, pouring some black coffee into a mug. He then made a show of blowing air onto the drink to cool it, before taking a slow sip, eyeing Albert in wait of a response.
“I’d actually appreciate if you bent the rules and let me have some wine,” Albert chuckled, uncharacteristically nervous.
“Hm,” Mycroft pretended to contemplate the idea. “Alright, since it’s a request from my M, I can hardly say no. You know where the liquor is; help yourself.”
Albert didn’t trust himself to speak. He scrambled like a mouse towards the liquor cabinet and fished out a bottle of red wine, not bothering with a glass. He drank the alcohol with the intention of wiping his dirty mind of the thought that less then 24 hours ago, the man before him had been having sex.
“Are you sure you’re alright Albert,” Mycroft asked feigning concern. “I hope my statement did not make you uncomfortable; I thought you didn’t mind hearing about my exciting escapades as I don’t quite have anyone else to share them with.”
“No! No you haven’t made me uncomfortable. I’m alright,” Albert stammered. “I was just thinking of how you haven’t really met the whole team working with the Lord of Crime. You have of course met Bonde, William, Louis and I, but not the others. I was thinking of how interesting that would be.”
“Is this an invitation,” Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow. He had not expected Albert to offer up the identities of his allies that easily.
“You know, Moran is still alive,” Albert blurted out, and watched as Mycroft’s eyes widened.
“Moran is alive?” Mycroft repeated incredulously before laughing loudly. “Well good for him! And he works with you? Why- it’s a small world indeed! Though, I find it difficult to imagine you two getting along.”
“We don’t,” Albert declared firmly, making Mycroft laugh even more. “I expected you to react differently, you know.”
Mycroft paused his laughter, although unable to fully wipe the smile off his face. “Oh?” He asked, finding Albert’s direction of steering this conversation quite amusing.
“Well,” Albert fiddled with his thumbs, wondering how to word his question. “Do you not wish to have sex with him again? You stated him as the only example of people you have had penetrative sex with so-,”
Mycroft could not contain his laughter any longer, the unrelenting giggles making Albert blush from embarrassment. “Are you trying to set us up?”
“Goodness no!” Albert responded immediately. “No, I was simply wondering.”
Mycroft’s expression softened, laughter fading into a small and gentle smile as he hoped against all hope that perhaps Albert’s question stemmed from a place of jealousy. Mycroft took a few seconds to respond, weighing his choices. Should he attempt to make Albert jealous, or should he reassure his that his taste had in fact evolved since he was 20. These seconds of course, felt like ages to Albert who anxiously listened as Mycroft hummed in thought.
The director let the devil on his shoulder win that time. Even if Albert didn’t get jealous, he would definitely produce some reaction. “Maybe,” he said with an air of indifference, shrugging for extra effect. “I don’t know what he looks like now.”
Mycroft was well aware that he was portraying himself as some sort of whore, but he couldn’t care less since that very idea seemed to make his favourite viscount so very flustered.
“Maybe?” Albert repeated, involuntarily deepening his frown. Mycroft found it incredibly endearing. “So you’re curious to see him then? What he looks like now?”
“Maybe,” Mycroft responded again, somehow managing to keep the smirk off his face. “Are you going to introduce us- or well, reintroduce us?”
“Oh.” For some reason, the idea did not sit right with Albert. Perhaps it because he’d known Moran long enough to be aware of his arsehole-like behaviour. Mycroft could definitely catch better fish than Moran. Albert rationalized that his distaste stemmed from too much annoyance towards Moran and too much respect towards Mycroft to let the esteemed man waste himself on such crap. “Ah well, my team tends to be rather busy and as the brother to their leader, I don’t think I should be offering up man-power like that.”
Mycroft nodded. “Right, it would be irresponsible of you to do that. I understand. No worries. I’m sure I can reach him myself then.” This time Mycroft failed to keep from smirking, but managed to disguise it as lustful rather than scheming.
Albert blinked. Did Mycroft want to see Moran that badly, and why did that fact sting him slightly? “Well,” he sputtered. “No, I guess I couldn’t have any issue with that but-,”
“Perfect!” Mycroft interrupted. “I shall write him a letter and have it taken right away by my personal post man- undoubtedly, he stays at your manor. In the case that I do find him still appealing, please tell me- do I look too shabby today? I have to work late and so it would be straight to the pub after that so I shan’t find time to fix my hair.”
The entire scenario was nearly too much process. The idea of Moran getting to see this new version of Mycroft was something Albert despised, yet he couldn’t find one good reason for this hatred. “You look fine,” he muttered.
Mycroft’s internal cheering was more enthusiastic than it had ever been in his life. Albert’s jealousy was nearly tangible! Sure, the other’s sour mood could have multiple different reasons, but even a toddler could recognise the distinct tint of jealousy upon Albert’s features.
Albert believed he had no reason to feel so strongly about what choices the capable adult before him made. He did not need to care, and yet, he did. The second Mycroft dipped his pen in the ink jar, Albert could not tolerate sitting there any longer. He stood up abruptly, looking anywhere but at the eyebrow he knew was raised at him. “I’ll see myself out now then.” He cursed himself internally at how stiff his voice sounded, and vaguely regretted hurrying out of the office without even a “Good day.” The regret stemmed from a place of guilt that perhaps he’d made Mycroft perceive Albert’s rudeness as disgust or discomfort. He contemplated stepping back in to clarify that he did not mind Mycroft sharing his secrets with him, however he simply couldn’t bring himself to re enter the room where Mycroft was penning the words which he was.
Mycroft was of course, writing a very different letter than what Albert had guessed:
Dear Veteran Colonel Moran,
I trust that you are well, and as sharp as I remember you to be. The reason for my mentioning your perceptiveness is to support my assumption that you have deduced the same information about my agent, Albert Moriarty, as I have.
Now, aside from your wit, I of course remember your eagerness for the sort of fun I shall propose to you in this letter. I trust you’d find it rather amusing to know that Albert believes this letter is an attempt to court you. His reaction was quite satisfactory, and I can assure you with certainty that there are buttons waiting to be pushed.
Shall you push them for me, please? And push him towards me? You perhaps know him better than I, and so your assistance would be greatly appreciated.
I hope you will permit and aid me to seduce your friend, and add some fuel to the fire of jealousy, and hopefully, desire, which has sparked in Albert.
Keep yourself well.
-Mycroft
It was with an almost evil glee that he enveloped the letter and sealed it, calling for his trustworthy post man. Often made to transport sensitive government letters, the post man knew not to sneakily read a letter, and so Mycroft handed it to him without worry, providing the address.
He could not wait for matters to unfold, and for Albert to unravel.