Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[Skyler]

Sorry things suck, I'm sending you my best wishes No matter how long it takes, I'll be here, waiting for your drabbles *Sets up tent.*

[cally]

180. breathing

Gregory was miserable. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so ill; it was rather unlike him to be sick as it was. Maybe he’d catch cold once or twice per year, but never anything that had left him bedridden like this.

He sat up against the headboard as he tried to determine which was more painful; the throbbing in his head or the crushing pain in his chest. He coughed, a painful barking sound, not unlike what he thought a dying seal must sound like. Reaching for the tissues, he gasped out a sigh, wallowing in self-pity.

Wheezing, Gregory coughed again; a prolonged spasm that left him feeling breathless. He really needed some more cough syrup. If only he had the energy to get up and retrieve it. Closing his eyes, he tried to regulate his breathing.

Just when he had found the will to move, the bedroom door opened and Mycroft came in with a cup of tea. Gregory smiled, but quickly brought his hand to cover his mouth as he began to cough again. The bout of coughing went on and on; Mycroft could hear the rattling coming from within and frowned.

Hahhhsdsdhhh!

The coughing led to a loud, odd sounding sneeze; Gregory was clearly losing his voice from the prolonged barking vocalizations.

“Good heavens, Gregory! God bless you!”

Gregory flushed crimson and quickly fumbled for the tissue box. He was sure he was unsightly at this point. Burying his nose in the tissues, he wheezed another weary breath and gasped out another laborious sounding sneeze.

Huh’haaarahhhDSCHHH!

“God bless you again, my dear.” Mycroft set the tea down on the nightstand and went into the ensuite. He returned a moment later with the cough syrup and a fresh box of tissues. Putting those down next to Gregory, he then went over to his bureau and took out two soft handkerchiefs, thinking their softness may be of some comfort.

“Thag you,” Gregory croaked out. He made a promise to himself to stop sneaking cigarettes when he was stressed at work.

Mycroft sat down on the edge of the bed and studied his lover. Gregory looked exhausted; dark circles under his eyes, and his nose was chapped and pink. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Are you feeling any better?”

Gregory shook his head as he reached over for the tea. He took a sip and let the heat and honey soothe his raw throat.

The respite didn’t last long. After another sip, his lungs protested and he gave into the rattling, wheezy coughs.

Mycroft moved so that he could rub Gregory’s back. He could feel his partner’s body trembling from the spasms and frowned worriedly.

Gregory sighed after he finally was able to finish coughing. He was about to resume drinking his tea, when his nose prickled intensely. He grabbed for the tissue box, and grasped a fair handful as he gave into the hitching breaths that teased their way out.

Ah--Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

He could feel a second one brewing; his head tipped back and his mouth went slack in anticipation. His breathing skipped and his nostrils flared as the paroxysm finally erupted.

Ahhhh…..hehhhh……..heh………Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh!

Mycroft could tell from Gregory’s breathing pattern that another sneeze was inevitable. He reached over and grabbed one of the handkerchiefs, and pressed it into Gregory’s hand.

Heh….Huh’hhhhuhhraGHNTshhhh! Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

Exhausted, Gregory sank back against the pillows again, blowing his nose. He gave a weak cough, resigned.

“God bless you, Gregory,” Mycroft said, once he was sure that Gregory was finished with the bout of sneezing.

“Thags,” Gregory managed to wheeze out. “Sorry,” he coughed out.

“There is nothing to apologize for, my dear. Just try to rest,” Mycroft said. He brought his hand up and rubbed the back of his ill partner’s neck, trying to keep the worry over Gregory’s illness at bay.

[AngelEyes]

Poor miserable Gregory. Yay for Mycroft being there!

[Zuki]

I'm not a fan of mystrade as a general rule, but some how I end up reading them anyway and this one was so cute and caring. I just want to roll Greg up in a blanket and fret alongside mycroft. It was well written and ahh, this better not awaken secret mystrade feels or I hold you responsible

[cally]

Poor miserable Gregory. Yay for Mycroft being there!

I might continue this one on a bit.

I'm not a fan of mystrade as a general rule, but some how I end up reading them anyway and this one was so cute and caring. I just want to roll Greg up in a blanket and fret alongside mycroft. It was well written and ahh, this better not awaken secret mystrade feels or I hold you responsible

See, once you go Mystrade you can't go back. I started it as a bit of fun, and now it is pretty much my life. I even made myself a Mystrade necklace with an umbrella and a pair of handcuffs.

[AngelEyes]

I might continue this one on a bit.

Squee!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Cally, you are so right. Once you go Mystrade there is no going back. You, Spoo and Bangbang have made me a complete Mystrade junkie. So glad to see more drabbles. I so needed a "fix".?

[AngelEyes]

You, Spoo and Bangbang have made me a complete Mystrade junkie.

Me too!!!

[cally]

You, Spoo and Bangbang have made me a complete Mystrade junkie.

Me too!!!

I don't think any of us are sorry for it, tbh.

181. unease

Mycroft fretted while Gregory slept. Another day had come and gone, and Gregory was still no better. Against the ill man’s wishes, he had called John and asked him to check in on his partner. John did so, diagnosed a case of bronchitis and prescribed some heavy-duty cough syrup and rest for the ailing DI.

Mycroft was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning on the doorjamb. He was glad that Gregory was finally sleeping; when he had been coughing so much he was unable to get proper rest. Still, a sense of unease had settled over him that he could not shake.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

A loud, muffled sneeze from his partner startled him out of his thoughts. Mycroft heard Gregory’s breath hitch again, and he crossed the room, fetching a fresh box of tissues along the way.

Ahhhh…..hehhhh……..heh………Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhhooo!

“Oh dearest. God bless you.” Mycroft frowned as he pressed a handful of tissues into his lover’s hands.

“Thadks,” Gregory croaked out with a cough, burying his nose in the offered tissues. After he tended to his nose, he looked up at Mycroft who was sitting there, hovering anxiously.

“Whad’s wrog?” Gregory reached out for Mycroft’s hand and squeezed it.

Mycroft gave him a wry smile. “Nothing is wrong. I am merely worried about you.” He hated that he couldn’t keep the anxiety at bay and that his ill partner was comforting him now.

Gregory coughed, a deep crackling sound coming from his lungs. He dabbed at his nose, which had started to drip as a consequence. Mycroft nudged the box of tissues closer to Gregory.

Gregory nodded his thanks and plucked a fresh handful. When the coughing finally abated he looked at Mycroft. “You’re not worrying, you’re obsessing.” He coughed again and cleared his throat. “I’m fine, ok?” He squeezed Mycroft’s hand again and then quickly turned and ducked his head down and away, as he sneezed.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh!

“Says the man who cannot stop coughing or sneezing. God bless you,” Mycroft said, a slight irritation present in his voice. He sighed inwardly as he ran his fingers through Gregory’s sleep-rumpled fringe. “And God bless you again,” he added.

Gregory managed to roll his eyes in Mycroft’s direction before sneezing harshly.

Huh’haaarahhhDSCHHH!

“Thadks,” Gregory said as he grabbed yet another handful of tissues.

“You’re welcome, my dear. I only wish I had more to offer than platitudes,” Mycroft said, smoothing away an invisible wrinkle in his waistcoat.

Gregory moved closer and rested his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. “You have, love.”

At some point, someone had requested (somewhere) about a early Johnlock fic, where John's just moved in and Sherlock gets sick. I stated this ages ago, and finally got around to actually finishing it.

182. duvet

John had only been living at Baker Street about a week when Sherlock woke up with a cold.

The case with the lady in pink had just recently come to a conclusion, and Sherlock had settled into what would come to be known as his post case depression. He pouted about the flat, complaining about everything in sight. This went on (and on) for a few days.

However, on this day, Sherlock had stayed in bed a bit longer. John didn’t really think anything of it, at first. He had quickly learned that Sherlock was rather eccentric and didn’t have much of a filter, personal space, or a normal schedule. In fact he was glad for the quiet. He made a cup of tea and some toast and sat down to read the paper, in silence for the first time since moving into Baker Street.

He was halfway through when a noise came from the direction of Sherlock’s bedroom. He couldn’t really place it, so John shrugged and resumed his reading. A few moments he heard it again. It sounded like . . . a sneeze. Frowning, John got up and went and knocked on Sherlock’s door.

“Sherlock, are you alright?”

Silence was the answer he got. Rolling his eyes, he turned back toward the kitchen, when he heard it again, louder this time, and most definitely a sneeze. He knocked on the door again.

“Sherlock? I’m coming in.”

John wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. He was definitely not expecting to see a Sherlock-sized lump hidden under the duvet, his dark curls barely visible.

John stood there for a moment, arms crossed, as he considered his options.

The Sherlock-sized lump shuddered and sneezed.

HngISHxt! Hng’ISSH!

“Bless you,” John said, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. “Are you ok?”

With a huff, the duvet was pushed down. Sherlock was in his pajamas and dressing gown, his hair a mess of curls. He sniffled wetly and glared at John.

“You’re a doctor, do something,” he said before he sneezed again.

Heh’NGISH! NGISHOOO!

“Bless you again,” John said. He looked around for a moment and finally located a box of tissues. “Here.” He pressed a handful into Sherlock’s hand.

Sherlock nodded and wiped his eyes and nose and then looked somewhat pleadingly at John.

“Ok,” John chuckled. “Let me take a look at you.” He sat down on the bed on front of Sherlock. He put a hand on Sherlock’s forehead and found his skin cool. “No fever,” he said. “That’s a good start.” He took a good look at Sherlock. The consulting detective looked tired and pale, but that was really no different either. “How are you feeling?”

Sherlock sniffled wetly and shrugged.

“I’m going to need a bit more than that,” John said, trying not to laugh.

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but was overcome with another pair of ticklish sneezes instead.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtshooo!

“Bless you, Sherlock. It sounds like you’ve caught a cold.”

The glare he received in return was priceless. “Well, can’t you do something?” Sherlock asked, irritated, snuffling into his tissues.

This time John did laugh. “Not really, no. I can get you some cold medicine and make you some tea, but you’ve just got to ride it out.” He paused for a moment, thoughtful. “Did you not know that?” John asked, incredulously.

Sherlock gave John a cold stare. “Thank you, doctor,” he said. Now probably wasn’t the time to explain how his mind palace worked to John, he thought, sniffling. He pulled the duvet up over his head again, sulking.

John just shook his head. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said standing up.

HngISHxt!

“Bless. And I’ll find you some more tissues,” John added, heading toward the kitchen. He had a feeling he was going to need something stronger than tea for himself.

[Skyler]

Aww <3 I love both drabbles

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

Aw! Poor Sherlock! Of COURSE he would have deleted that we as yet have no cure for the common cold.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Yeah! More drabbles to read! I really like the juxtaposition of these two stories. In the first the caregiver, Mycroft, is looking for more to do to help Greg, who feels completely pampered. In the second, John is matter a fact about what he can do to help. Sherlock clearly believes there must be more. My point is that this pairing highlights the similarities between the Holmes brothers. I like it.

[cally]

Aww <3 I love both drabbles

Awww thank you.

Aw! Poor Sherlock! Of COURSE he would have deleted that we as yet have no cure for the common cold.

Or what a cold is.

Yeah! More drabbles to read! I really like the juxtaposition of these two stories. In the first the caregiver, Mycroft, is looking for more to do to help Greg, who feels completely pampered. In the second, John is matter a fact about what he can do to help. Sherlock clearly believes there must be more. My point is that this pairing highlights the similarities between the Holmes brothers. I like it.

Thank you! That's very well analysed, I wish I had thought of it myself!

I'm not quite sure what has gotten into me or how this would be classified as a drabble with it being 3 typed pages long. I just kept rambling on and on

183. choices

Anthea had two choices. She was either going to be late to deliver this briefing to her employer, or she was going to have to embarrass herself in front of him. Stifling another sneeze, she hit enter, selected print from the drop-down menu, and closed the file. Embarrassment it was.

Huh’INGX!

Stifling yet another sneeze, she rose and strode quickly over to the printer. She scanned her ID to release the print job and waited for the copies to collate. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she rubbed her nostrils gently in a vain attempt to ward off any further disruption.

Huh’INGX! Huh’itsh!

It clearly didn’t work. She sighed audibly and removed the printouts and returned to her desk. She quickly and efficiently placed them into the corresponding folders, only pausing to rub her irritated septum.

She allowed herself a harsh sniff in hopes it would alleviate the tickle long enough for her to deliver the documentation. Heels clacking on the tiled floor, she made her way to her employer’s office, knocked on the door once and then entered; he was expecting her. Efficient and prompt as ever, she crossed the threshold and headed over to his desk.

Mycroft didn’t bother to look up. “Ah Anthea, as prompt as ever,” he said. “Thank you. You may leave them,” he added gesturing vaguely to his desk.

Sniffling quietly, Anthea placed the files down. She was about to turn and leave, but Mycroft stopped her, the slight sniffle not escaping his ears. He looked up at her, a look of concern etched across his features.

Damn, she thought. Now, she was most definitely caught out. “So-ahhh sorry,” she gasped out airily before succumbing.

Huh’INGX! Huh’itsh!

Anthea was vaguely aware that Mr. Holmes was speaking to her, but her breathing had become so audible and erratic she was unable to hear him clearly; it was like being under water, she thought as she began to sneeze again. She quickly cupped her hands around her nose.

Hehhhhhhhh- Huh’INGX! Huh’itsh! Huh’ITShuh! Huh’INGHsh!

She was startled out of the last sneeze by a hand on her arm. Mycroft was leading her over to a chair; she felt off-balance and lightheaded. Her breath continued to hitch erratically between bouts of sneezes. She knew more sneezes were inevitable and she was about to bring her hands up to cover her nose and mouth again, when Mycroft pressed his handkerchief into her splayed hands.

Blushing furiously, she had no choice but to bury her nose within its folds as she lost control again.

Huh’ish! Huh’itsh! Huh’ITShuh! Huh’INGHshuh! Huh’INGX! Huh’itsh!

She quickly gave her nose a thorough, gurgling blow in hopes that it would end this seemingly never-ending torment.

“Good heavens, Anthea! God bless you! Are you alright?” Although he hated repeating himself, he did in this instance; it was clear Anthea hadn’t heard his first blessing or inquiry after her health. Mycroft had dropped his brusque demeanour and was sitting on the edge of the chair next to her, looking apprehensive.

Anthea gave a half-nod half-shake of her head, not bothering to remove the cloth from her nose. The persistent prickling was still there, tormenting her. Her eyes fluttered closed again as another flurry of sneezes overtook her, bending her at the waist this time.

Huh’itsh! Huh’ITShuh! Huh’INGHsh! Huh’ITShuh! Huh’INGHshuh!

“God bless you again,” Mycroft said quietly.

Anthea realised he had moved; he was no longer sitting beside her. She sat up slowly, blowing her nose into the now nearly useless handkerchief. She felt embarrassed, disgusting, and a heated blush swept across her cheekbones again.

Mycroft sat back down next to her. She finally risked a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked worried, she thought. She chanced a sniff and found that the irritation had concluded for the moment.

“Excuse me sir. I’m terribly sorry,” she finally said and then cleared her throat.

Mycroft gave her an airy tut. “My dear, you have seen me in far worse situations,” he remarked as he plucked a handful of tissues out of the box he fetched, and pressed them upon her.

Blushing again, Anthea put the damp cloth in her lap and used one of the tissues to wipe her eyes that had watered fiercely while she was sneezing. She sniffled and dabbed at her nostrils, trying not to set herself off again.

Huh’ITShuh! Huh’INGHshuh!

Two quick harsh sneezes tumbled out and she cursed inwardly.

“God bless you, Anthea.”

“Thank you, sir. Excuse me,” she murmured. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her desk and put herself together but she was afraid another sudden movement would cause her to end up having another fit.

Mycroft poured a glass of water from the decanter on his desk and held it out to her. “Drink this slowly,” he said rising from the chair. He returned to his side of the desk, opened a drawer and quickly found what he was looking for.

Removing a pill from the blister pack, he handed it to Anthea. “I am not quite sure what has caused this, but this may help.”

Anthea nodded and swallowed the pill down with the water. “Thank you, sir,” she said, clearing her throat again.

She finished the water and then rose to her feet. She was suddenly dizzy, and Mycroft moved quickly to her side and eased her back down into the chair. “Perhaps you should sit here for a bit longer,” he suggested. Frowning, he leaned against his desk and studied her for a moment. “Vertigo can sneak up on you after an attack like that,” he added. He would know, he thought to himself.

Anthea nodded, she felt terribly uncomfortable. Sniffling gently, she dabbed once again at her now reddened nose.

Mycroft sensed her discomfort and anxiousness. He quickly checked the time on his pocket watch. It was late, he thought. He moved around to the other side of his desk and picked up his briefcase and umbrella. Anthea looked up at him, confused, as he moved back around the desk and stood next to her.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Anthea gave a curt nod. “Yes, thank you sir,” she said, getting to her feet without issue this time.

“Please call for the car. It is rather late,” he said, following her to the door.

“Yes, sir. Thank you again,” she said. Anthea gave her boss a shy smile, which he returned.

Anthea quickly gathered her handbag and texted for the car. As she did so, she distractedly sniffed and rubbed at her nose again. Briefly, she wondered what caused it as she put her coat on.

Mycroft was standing in the doorway. To anyone else it would have looked like he was waiting, but she knew he was taking in the environment trying to figure out what caused her to succumb to such a brutal and prolonged fit.

[matilda3948]

Ohhh...poor Anthea!! I just adore your drabbles so much! The two before this one were amazing too...sneezy Sherlock

[Skyler]

I'd love a continuation of that drabble Amazing

[cally]

Ohhh...poor Anthea!! I just adore your drabbles so much! The two before this one were amazing too...sneezy Sherlock

Awwww thank you. Poor Anthea indeed.

I'd love a continuation of that drabble Amazing

It may be possible!

Because it actually snowed here today. For reals.

184. snow

Late in the afternoon it had started snowing. Gregory had arrived home early from work for once and stood in the study watching the snow flutter to the ground softly. It looked magical outside, like everything was coated in icing sugar. He was reminded of being a child and watching the snow, not to mention playing outside in it; sledding and the like. He was brought out of his thoughts by a text; Mycroft was on his way home. A smile played across his face, and he hurried upstairs to change.

A few minutes later Gregory was dressed warmly and hiding behind a tree that lined the walkway. He knew that he wouldn’t be seen from where the car would drop Mycroft off, and he took a few minutes to make a pile of snowballs.

After what seemed an age, the town car made its way down the road and finally stopped. Gregory watched eagerly as Mycroft made his way down the path and up to the door. It was only then he realised his footprints would be visible in the snow. He did have surprise as an advantage, and as soon as Mycroft realised what was happening Gregory let a volley of snowballs go, hitting Mycroft squarely in the chest.

The look on his face was priceless, and Gregory wished he had been able to take a picture. Mycroft Holmes with snow dripping down his wool overcoat, his face void of emotion. Laughing uproariously, Gregory threw another, hitting him in the shoulder.

“Gregory. Really?” Mycroft asked, shaking his head.

“Oh come on!” Gregory shouted. He bent over and began to make another snowball.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and sighed. He unlocked the front door and placed his briefcase and umbrella inside and then quickly balled up the snow on the iron handrail. He hit Gregory in the forehead. Mycroft could do nothing but laugh.

His laughter was short-lived; Gregory had amassed several more snowballs and began to take aim. Mycroft quickly ran down the path, using a tree for cover and began to quickly make as many snowballs as he could. The two of them began to throw whatever they could make at each other, laughing hysterically.

Gregory finally managed to hit Mycroft right in the face, which he found hilarious. He bent over double laughing for a moment, and then looked up at Mycroft, who was standing there holding his hand up in surrender. The other hand was hovering precipitously in front of his face, as he took several heaving, hitching breaths before sneezing, trying to direct them into his wrist as much as possible.

Heh……….Heh’INGTISH! Heh’NGISH! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! Hng’mmpftish! MmmpfTIGshooo!

“Oh, love! God bless you!”

Mycroft nodded, his damp gloved hand still hovering in front of his face.

Sensing his partner’s discomfort, as he knew how much Mycroft hated not being able to be proper, he dug into the pocket of his wet jeans and found a crumpled tissue, which he quickly brought over.

Cheeks reddened from the cold and embarrassment, Mycroft pressed the tissue to his nose and turned away from his partner, breath hitching erratically.

Hehhhh…….Mmmmpfx! Mmmmmmpfch! Mmmphmfp! Mmmpftish! MmmmINGHtigh’sh! INGH’ish!

“God bless you again,” Gregory said gently, and began to wipe the snow from his lover’s coat.

Finally, Mycroft composed himself enough, and looked up at his partner. His eyes seemed damp and his cheeks were red from the cold. Gregory pulled off a glove and gently wiped the melting snow from Mycroft’s eyebrows. He then cupped his cheek, caressing his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

When they finally separated, Mycroft was smiling. Not one to forget his manners, as he began to pick bits of snow out of Gregory’s hair, he said, “Thank you, Gregory.”

Gregory smiled. “You’re welcome,” he said. Probably not the last time he’d be saying it this evening, he thought.

“Shall we?” Mycroft asked, gesturing toward the door.

[Skyler]

Awwwww <3 You update so quickly! Thank you for giving me something lovely in my awful day.

All of this was just perfect, I can't separate a part to quote

[AngelEyes]

So many updates all at once!!!! It's Christmas! as Sherlock would say!

“You’re not worrying, you’re obsessing.”

Always Mycroft.

John wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. He was definitely not expecting to see a Sherlock-sized lump hidden under the duvet, his dark curls barely visible.

John stood there for a moment, arms crossed, as he considered his options.

The Sherlock-sized lump shuddered and sneezed.

HngISHxt! Hng’ISSH!

“Bless you,” John said, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. “Are you ok?”

With a huff, the duvet was pushed down. Sherlock was in his pajamas and dressing gown, his hair a mess of curls. He sniffled wetly and glared at John.

“You’re a doctor, do something,” he said before he sneezed again.

I can absolutely see John's bemused expression. LOL

“I’m going to need a bit more than that,” John said, trying not to laugh.

This is such perfect early!John. Fascinated and bemused by his new partner's antics and childishness.

“Did you not know that?” John asked, incredulously.

So naive.

Sherlock gave John a cold stare. “Thank you, doctor,” he said. Now probably wasn’t the time to explain how his mind palace worked to John, he thought, sniffling. He pulled the duvet up over his head again, sulking.

Perfect sulky Sherlock.

Loved Anthea.

The snowball fight. Epic! I love to think that greg can manage to bring the silly child out of Mycroft every now and then and just let loose. I love the image of him standing there all serious and expressionless when the first one hits him, like Seriously? But then he sees how carefree Greg looks and gives in. Chasing each other around the yard like little boys. Adorable! Greg is definitely the best thing ever for Mycroft.

[cally]

Awwwww <3 You update so quickly! Thank you for giving me something lovely in my awful day.

All of this was just perfect, I can't separate a part to quote

I'm not quite sure what's come over me in the past day; just felt like getting some writing in. I'm sorry you had a crap day, but glad you enjoyed.

So many updates all at once!!!! It's Christmas! as Sherlock would say!

Have I gone a bit overboard?

185. Friday

Once inside, Gregory made a convincing argument for a roaring fire, pyjamas, a nice bottle of wine, and a takeaway. Mycroft wasn’t one for accepting changes to his diet on a whim, but it was Friday. He decided he would just get up earlier than he had planned tomorrow and spend an extra half hour on the treadmill.

They were sitting in the study by the fire, each with a glass of wine. Mycroft was responding to a text (nothing critical, he assured Gregory) and the DI was trying to decide on a film for them to watch. He wondered if he could get away with watching Casino Royale again, as he took a long approving glance at his partner. The chill of the weather must have really gotten to Mycroft, he thought. He watched in trepidation as the younger man sniffled and rubbed at his nose unconsciously as he texted.

Gregory slipped the DVD into the player and returned back to the couch, pausing to grab a box of tissues. As he sat back down, Mycroft was slipping his mobile into his pocket. Gregory plucked a few tissues and handed them to his lover. “I’m sorry if I’ve got you all sniffly.”

Mycroft dabbed at his delicate nostrils for a moment, and then reached over to cup Gregory’s cheek, feeling the slight stubble under his palm. He was about to show his appreciation for Gregory’s concern, when the ticklish sensation returned tenfold. He quickly brought the tissues up to his twitching nose as he gave into the sensation.

Heh’NGISH! Mmmpftish!

“God bless you,” Gregory said, frowning.

Mycroft hadn’t lowered the tissues yet. He could feel the prickling deep within his sinuses and knew that this respite would be short-lived. “Th-ah heh thank --hhh you,” he managed to gasp out, nostrils quivering on the brink.

ING’SHHHHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

“Christ! God bless you love!” Gregory fretted, biting his lower lip in the wake of Mycroft’s harsh sneezing fit. He was feeling positively guilty now. He knew it was impossible, but he hoped that Mycroft wasn’t becoming ill from their impromptu snowball fight. He handed another handful of tissues to his lover in hopes of making amends.

Mycroft gratefully accepted the fresh tissues; the fit had left him simultaneously dripping and congested. He took a moment to blow his nose, frowning when he saw how worried Gregory had become.

“Thank you, my dear. Apologies,” he said with a damp sniff. “I am alright, dearest,” he added in an attempt to quell Gregory’s worry.

“You’re welcome,” Gregory said, pulling Mycroft close. He kissed him on the top of his head, savoring the softness of the auburn hair. He could protect Mycroft from any manner of physical things, yet there was little he could do to protect him from allergens, viruses, or himself, he thought sadly.

They had just settled in to watch the film; “Casino Royale, again, Gregory?” Of course that was the moment the food was delivered, so they paused it while Gregory went to fetch the takeaway. Mycroft gave his nose another harsh blow, annoyed that he couldn’t even be spontaneous without having repercussions.

Chinese was heartily enjoyed and the wine with it as they watched the film. They had both seen it several times, so when they each got up to take turns in the washroom after eating, they didn’t bother to pause. They spent the rest of the film wrapped around each other in the dark, with only the crackling fire and television lighting the dark panelled study.

They were both yawning as the closing credits rolled. Gregory stretched and ran a hand through his silver hair as Mycroft stood and turned the light back on. Gregory quickly managed to clasp his hand around his nose just in time to cover a pair of ferocious sneezes.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh! HRDSCHHhhhhooo!

“Goodness! God bless you, Gregory!” Mycroft blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the additional light.

“Sorry. Thanks,” Gregory mumbled, blushing. He grabbed a tissue and swiped at his nose.

Mycroft frowned, pursing his lips. Gregory seemed embarrassed, which was rather unlike him. Perhaps his lover thought he startled him, Mycroft thought as he yawned. He reached out his hand toward Gregory and they headed up to bed, each lost in their own worried thoughts.

[Skyler]

Oooh! Will this one be continued?

[cally]

Oooh! Will this one be continued?

Yes. It's occupied my day. I've been rather distracted by it.

186. bedtime

As usual they took turns getting ready for bed. Gregory changed and pulled the duvet down while Mycroft brushed his teeth. He yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.

He could hear Mycroft sniffling again and he frowned. This was all his fault. He put his head in his hands.

Mmmpftish! Tish! Ish! Mmmmpfx!

Gregory quickly looked up. Mycroft had been coming in from the ensuite when the nasal irritation returned, and in lieu of having a tissue, he steepled his fingers around his nose and tried to stifle the expulsions as best he could.

“God bless you,” he said standing up and leading Mycroft over to the bed and eased him down. He could feel the teasing and hitching breaths from where his hand was splayed comfortingly on Mycroft’s back.

It was almost as if Mycroft was waiting until he was seated to give in to the seemingly tortuous build-ups. Gregory could see a bit of his lover’s profile; his nose was scrunched up and his eyes were fluttering closed.

Mmmmmmpfch! Ish! Mmmmpftish! Tish!

He paused a moment in between sneezes; his head tipped back for a moment and he inhaled sharply before the next onslaught.

MmmmpfTISH! INGTishooo! Ish! Heh-heh-Mmmmpftishooo!

The last sneeze was thick and heady, bending Mycroft forward; he had given up trying to muffle them at this point, they were far too teasing, ticklish, and unpredictable. Gregory reached over for the tissues and put the box next to Mycroft. He plucked several out and had them at the ready for when his partner was ready to remove his hands from covering his face. He rubbed his back soothingly. “God bless you again love,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry,” he added.

Mycroft finally removed his hands and gratefully took the tissues Gregory was holding out for him. “Thank you,” he began. “Excuse heh me,” he barely managed out before another high-pitched hitching breath that culminated in another set of barely contained sneezes.

Huh’tishhhhngxtsh! MmmmINGHtighsh! Mmmpftish! INGHtighsh! Heh’mmmmpfTISH’ish! Heh’TISSSHH-ooo!

A soft moan escaped from him after the final sneeze. Gregory bit his lip in worry, and pressed another handful of tissues into Mycroft’s hand. “God bless you,” he said, still rubbing his back. It was the only comfort he could offer right now.

Mycroft wiped his teary eyes and then massaged his inflamed nostrils before gently blowing his nose, not wanting to set off on another fit of sneezes. He was thoroughly worn out. He slumped against Gregory and rubbed his nose with a curled index finger.

“Thank you,” he murmured finally. “My apologies,” he added almost as an afterthought.

“You’re welcome. You know there’s nothing to apologise for, love.” He pulled Mycroft a bit closer, wrapping his arms around him. He could feel Mycroft’s heart beat slowing down as he came down from his fittish outburst.

Mycroft looked up at him after a moment. “Why were you apologising before, Gregory? You certainly are not the cause of this,” he said gesturing at himself. He let a rouge sniffle by and rubbed his nose again.

Gregory looked at Mycroft, and caressed his cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that had been missed. “This isn’t from the snowball fight?”

Mycroft gave him a soft, intimate smile. “Of course not. I suspect there was some added spices in with dinner.” He placed a gentle kiss on Gregory’s lips. “Are you going to get ready for bed?” He asked, in between kisses.

“Mmmm, in a second. I can think of better things I could be doing,” he added playfully.

[Skyler]

Awwwah! I'm so rubbish at commenting, I can't say much because I'm too busy melting into a puddle of happiness <3 I love that Gregory is worried about Mycroft

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh so many lovely stories! Poor Mycroft! I feel his frustration. He can't have any fun without some sort of repercussions. Poor Greg! He should realize everything makes Mycroft sneeze and just roll (have fun) with it. We do!

[AngelEyes]

They spent the rest of the film wrapped around each other in the dark, with only the crackling fire and television lighting the dark panelled study.

Awwwww!!!!

He reached out his hand toward Gregory and they headed up to bed, each lost in their own worried thoughts.

More awww.

“Mmmm, in a second. I can think of better things I could be doing,” he added playfully.

Mmmm. Naughty!Greg. My favorite!

[AngelEyes]

Have I gone a bit overboard?

Overboard? No. Never. Impossible.

They spent the rest of the film wrapped around each other in the dark, with only the crackling fire and television lighting the dark panelled study.

Awwwww!!!!

He reached out his hand toward Gregory and they headed up to bed, each lost in their own worried thoughts.

More awww.

“Mmmm, in a second. I can think of better things I could be doing,” he added playfully.

Mmmm. Naughty!Greg. My favorite!