Cally's Sherlock drabbles #2 [81/221] (28 September 2017)

[cally]

Love how Greg knows just what is needed. Who says he doesn't observe!

He has had a lot of practice.

Poor Mycroft. Those uncontrollable fits are sure rough. But, mmmmm.

I know, right?

I'm off to London for a few days, so here is something to tide you all over until I return.

20. island

Gregory Lestrade woke in the early morning hours. He was momentarily confused as to where he was; he could hear waves crashing outside the open window and a gentle breeze ruffled the curtains. And then he remembered. Mycroft had surprised him with a weekend away; a private island getaway, not a soul for miles. Endless sandy beaches and clear, blue-green water that was the perfect temperature.

He smiled into the dark room, feeling the warm presence of his lover beside him. He wondered what woke him, he briefly thought. As if on cue, his nose prickled alarmingly. Not wanting to disturb Mycroft (the younger man didn’t sleep nearly as much as he should), he turned away from his partner, buried his nose in the pillow, and tried to muffle the outburst as best as he could.

Heh’uschhhhpf!

Sniffling in the aftermath, he was glad to find that Mycroft hadn’t stirred. The last thing he wanted to do was to bother Mycroft. The younger man had not been sleeping well recently, and even in the faint light, Gregory was glad to see that the lines that had appeared recently on his face had lessened so in his sleep.

Lestrade made himself comfortable again and closed his eyes. He sniffed, feeling his nostrils twitch again. As always, muffling and holding back the sneeze just made him have to sneeze again. He brought his arm up and buried his nose into its crook, trying to reduce the sound.

Huh’hrahhhshhhfff!

There was a rusting of the bedsheets next to him as Mycroft stirred. Gregory stilled, hoping that Mycroft would fall back to sleep, but his nose had other ideas and he gasped out yet another sneeze.

Heh’huhrahhhshhhgnxt!

“G’bless,” Mycroft murmured sleepily. “All right?”

Gregory smiled in spite of himself; he loved when Mycroft was half-asleep and unable to speak in full sentences.

“Yeah, I’m hehhhhh fine.” Huh’Hhhshhngxt!

Mycroft sat up, frowning, his auburn hair sticking up in places, and an errant curl had fallen across his forehead. “God bless you! You do not sound fine, dearest.”

“Thanks,” Gregory sniffed. His nose was still rather ticklish; it felt like someone was painting the inside of his nostrils with a paintbrush. He rubbed at the appendage in annoyance.

With a worried look in his partner’s direction, Mycroft reached over toward the nightstand and grabbed a few tissues. He turned back and pressed them into Gregory’s hand, and as he did he took in his appearance. He could deduce nothing more than a random irritation, but it was very early, and he couldn’t be entirely sure.

Fretting, Mycroft watched as Gregory’s eyes fluttered shut, and nostrils flaring, he pressed the tissues to his nose and sneezed violently.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo!

“God bless you again, my dear,” Mycroft said, reaching out and squeezing Gregory’s arm.

“Ugh. Thank you, love,” Gregory replied, blowing his nose. With the tickle finally abated, he tossed the tissues to the side and reached for Mycroft, pulling him close and kissing him.

Mycroft caressed his cheek, smiling in the dark as they settled down in each other’s arms. They were lulled back to sleep by the sound of the waves breaking on the beach outside.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

It's those darn hibiscus flowers. They totally sent Greg over the edge during the last tropical getaway. Why didn't Mycroft remember?

Have fun in London!

[AngelEyes]

More island getaways. I'm so jealous! Stifled sneezes that make you need to sneeze more, yeah, totally my thing.

[cally]

It's those darn hibiscus flowers. They totally sent Greg over the edge during the last tropical getaway. Why didn't Mycroft remember?

Not necessarily. But we'll get back to that.

More island getaways. I'm so jealous! Stifled sneezes that make you need to sneeze more, yeah, totally my thing.

I want an island getaway. But not too hot.

21. waves

When Mycroft woke, it was already pleasantly warm. The sun was shining brightly, birds were singing their morning song, and the waves were still crashing gently on the beach outside. Yawning, he stretched his arms above his head, working out the kinks of sleep.

He felt a tingle deep within his sinuses and knew that he would be succumbing to his morning fit sooner than later. He sat up, allowing his legs to swing over the side of the bed, bare feet touching the floor. He was about to reach for his robe, but instead gave a soft, shallow gasp and quickly pinched his nostrils, trying to stifle the outburst as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his still sleeping lover.

H’Mmmpfx! Mmmpfx! Mmmmpfch! H’ngxt! Mmmpftish! Mmmpfxisssshhhmpf!

The last sneeze was harsh and damp and had Mycroft scurrying for the tissues, blushing furiously. He had just pressed them to his nose, when Gregory stirred in the bed behind him.

“Bless,” he said, his voice hoarse and rough with sleep. He propped himself up on an elbow and studied Mycroft.

“Apologies, my dear. I did not mean to wake you,” Mycroft replied, nose buried within the tissues.

“S’allright,” Gregory said through a yawn.

Mycroft sighed softly, wishing he could have a reprieve for just one morning. He pulled on his robe, and then baling up the tissues, shoved them into the pocket. He was debating the merits of coffee versus a few more minutes in bed with his partner, when the irritation returned. Without any time to reach for the tissues, he cupped his hands around his nose as he found himself thrown forward with the force of a pair of violent sneezes.

Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh’NNNG’SHHHHH!

Had Gregory not reacted so quickly in grabbing his arms, Mycroft would have toppled forward off the bed and on to the floor.

“Christ, love! God bless you!”

Mycroft managed the briefest of nods, but remained curled in on himself, his hands still caged around his nose. With his mind still addled with sleep, it took Gregory a moment to realise why Mycroft hadn’t turned or moved. He gave his lover a reassuring squeeze and then rose from the bed to fetch him a much-needed handkerchief.

Mycroft gratefully and eagerly accepted the cloth and immediately blew his nose, attempting to compose himself. It took a few moments, but finally he could breathe more easily than before. He quietly cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Gregory. Again, I apologise,” he murmured, rubbing his nose.

Lestrade settled back against the headboard and with some slight prodding was able to get Mycroft to lean back against him. He began to rub the younger man’s neck, frowning when he felt the already evident tension. He idly wondered if the tight neck muscles were caused by Mycroft’s harsh stifling. If only he could convince his partner to ease up on the repressive act. Yawning, he continued to massage Mycroft’s tense neck and shoulders, hoping to offer some comfort.

[AngelEyes]

He idly wondered if the tight neck muscles were caused by Mycroft’s harsh stifling. If only he could convince his partner to ease up on the repressive act. Yawning, he continued to massage Mycroft’s tense neck and shoulders, hoping to offer some comfort.

Mycroft. Always so self conscious. And Awwww, Greg.

[cally]

Mycroft. Always so self conscious.

Yes. And it continues.

22. sunshine

The pair had a quiet day enjoying the fresh island air and sunshine. Mycroft, who was dressed head to toe in linen, sat on a lounge chair in the shade reading a book. At some point he had removed his straw fedora and had put it to the side. Gregory had spent most of his time in the sunshine, alternating from his own lounge chair positioned as close to Mycroft’s as possible, and the ocean.

By the time teatime rolled around, the detective inspector was several shades darker and Mycroft gave him an approving look as he walked up the beach, droplets of water glistening like diamonds on his tanned skin. When Gregory had announced his intent to take a final swim, the government official had set his book aside and had watched as he easily navigated the water with strong, even strokes.

After a shared shower, the two enjoyed freshly caught fish and grilled vegetables, complimented by a crisp and refreshing white wine. The fish had been well seasoned, and Mycroft gently rubbed at the underside of his septum with a knuckle, hoping to ward off the insipient tickle.

Mycroft sniffed nearly imperceptibly, and this time delicately dabbed at his nostrils with his napkin. He could feel the irritation building, and he sniffed again, more forcefully this time. He took a sip of wine and sighed inwardly. He hated succumbing at the dinner table; it was most unhygienic, allergies or not.

He looked over at Gregory, who was enthusiastically enjoying his meal, having worked up an appetite with all the swimming. Mycroft smiled at his partner’s unabashed pleasure. Gregory looked up, and meeting his eyes, he returned the grin.

Mycroft scrubbed at his nose again as the onslaught of sneezes approached. He turned as far away from the table as he could. He then brought his napkin up and covered his nose as the paroxysms came out in a rapid stream, one after the other, barely allowing him an intake of breath.

Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! Ish! Hng’mmpftish! Mmmpfch! INGH’ish!

Gregory raised both eyebrows in surprise. “God bless you, love!”

Mycroft uncurled from himself and turned back towards the table, carefully wiping his nose, his face flushed in embarrassment. He softly cleared his throat. “Thank you. My apologies, Gregory.”

Gregory moved his chair closer to Mycroft’s and brushed a loose curl from his forehead, his fingers warm and gentle.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Mycroft avoided his eyes and looked away, his cheeks still flushed pink.

“You know there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, love,” Gregory said, his voice soothing. He was certain that this would not be the last time he would have to say this to Mycroft. His lover was so concerned with what was proper; he just wanted Mycroft to be comfortable around him, to not be so embarrassed over something as simple as a sneeze. Now, Gregory knew that Mycroft was particularly self-conscious about it, with his persistent hayfever; he just wanted the younger man to relax.

Mycroft sniffed again and seeing that they were both finished with dinner, began to clear the table. Gregory fought off the urge to roll his eyes, and instead started to help.

Once the table was cleared and the kitchen cleaned up, the sun was about to set. Gregory filled their wine glasses and the pair walked outside to the beach to watch the sunset; the sky a picturesque kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, purples, and blues. They sat quietly, Mycroft leaning up against his lover’s warm body. It was peaceful; the only sound the waves lapping softly on shore.

Mycroft stretched his long legs out in front of him, settling in the space between Gregory’s tanned ones. The older man smiled, watching his partner relax fully into his embrace. He kissed Mycroft on the top of his head, his hair soft under his lips.

Darkness fell; it was darker than either of them were used to. In London, it never fully got dark, what with all the city lights. Looking up at the stars, Mycroft began to point out stars and constellations, telling Gregory little known facts about each one; Lestrade occasionally asking his own questions.

It had gotten cooler, and Mycroft instinctively sought out the warmth of Gregory’s arms. Gregory smiled and pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Mycroft returned the smile and the gesture, and continue to impart his knowledge, the stars bright in the expanse of dark sky.

Mycroft drained the remainder of his wine and put his glass to the side. He was about to mention a fascinating fact about the Lyra Ophiuchus constellation, when he felt a familiar prickling in his sinus passages. His breathing wavered and hitched as he cupped his hands around his nose, giving into the sensation.

Huh’tishhhhhngxtsh! MmmmINGHtighsh! Mmmpftish! Mmmmmpfx!

“God bless you, love!”

Th-ahhhhhh hehthank you,” Mycroft gasped out before delving into a continuation of the tumultuous fit. As he succumbed, he felt Gregory’s arms come up and brace him through the outburst.

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

“Jesus, Myc! God bless you again!” Gregory exclaimed worriedly. “And again for good measure,” he added.

Mycroft sniffed thickly and made a face. Gregory chuckled softly, his breath warm on Mycroft’s cheek. Removing a hand from Mycroft’s bicep, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out one of Mycroft’s handkerchiefs and pressed it toward his lover.

“Thank you, my dearest heart. Please do excuse me,” Mycroft said, snuffling into the cloth.

The detective inspector rubbed his back soothingly. “Are you cold? Do you want to go inside?”

“Would you mind terribly?” Mycroft asked.

“Of course not.” Gregory pressed a kiss to his temple and then rose from his spot on the beach. He reached down and helped Mycroft to his feet, and pulled the younger man into a gentle embrace.

A half an hour later they were getting ready for bed. Gregory had washed up first and was now comfortably settled in bed. He yawned and stretched his arms out, his muscles aching pleasantly from his earlier swim.

He settled back against the stack of pillows and waited for Mycroft to come out of the bathroom. He had closed his eyes and found himself close to dozing off, when he was suddenly flung forward with the force of a violent sneeze.

Huh’hrahhhSHHhooo!

Mycroft, who had just come into the bedroom, startled at the sound.

“Goodness! God bless,” he began, but was cut off by another one of Gregory’s punishing sneezes.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

“God bless you again!” Mycroft remarked, sitting down next to his lover. He studied him intently, looking for signs of illness.

Lestrade sniffed and rubbed at his nose. “Thanks, love,” he said, yawning. He reached over and clicked off the light on his side of the bed, leaving the room illuminated by the solitary bulb on Mycroft’s side.

Fretting, Mycroft slid into bed next to his partner, settling the light duvet over both of them before reaching over and turning off the light. Gregory rarely sneezed, and that was the seventh of the day, which was most unlike his dear detective inspector. Something had to be amiss, Mycroft thought, giving into a yawn. The fresh sea air had exhausted him. He felt Gregory’s warm arms pulling him close, and they both soon gave into the demands of sleep.

[AngelEyes]

By the time teatime rolled around, the detective inspector was several shades darker and Mycroft gave him an approving look as he walked up the beach, droplets of water glistening like diamonds on his tanned skin.

Oh what a glorious image! I would watch that all day long!

Now, Gregory knew that Mycroft was particularly self-conscious about it, with his persistent hayfever; he just wanted the younger man to relax.

Awww.

Fretting, Mycroft slid into bed next to his partner, settling the light duvet over both of them before reaching over and turning off the light. Gregory rarely sneezed, and that was the seventh of the day, which was most unlike his dear detective inspector. Something had to be amiss, Mycroft thought, giving into a yawn.

Oh dear. Of course Mycroft keeps track. And, mmmm, what Is amiss?

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh, bless them both! Two lovely fics. I just love how gentle the two are with each other in your stories. Poor Mycroft is never going to feel comfortable with his incessant sneezing. Greg is so patient. I hope you let them cuddle all night.

[cally]

Oh what a glorious image! I would watch that all day long!

Same. I enjoyed visualising that myself!

Oh, bless them both! Two lovely fics. I just love how gentle the two are with each other in your stories. Poor Mycroft is never going to feel comfortable with his incessant sneezing. Greg is so patient. I hope you let them cuddle all night.

Gregory will get frustrated if he thinks Mycroft is trying to hide an illness from him or deny himself treatment. Mycroft will get frustrated if Gregory ignores his health for a case, or tries to dismiss an ailment when it might be something more. I see them as very tender and loving with each other in 96.6% of cases.

And here's the final instalment of this scenario.

23. pillow

It wasn’t an hour later when Lestrade awoke, a fierce burning irritation in his sinus cavity. It had seemingly come out of nowhere and was bothersome enough to have caused him to wake. He rubbed at his nose, trying to ward off a sneeze.

He glanced over at Mycroft who was still sleeping, thankfully. The last thing he wanted to do was wake him up for something trivial. He gave his nose another rub, yawned, and settled back down to sleep, slinging an arm across Mycroft’s hip. He nuzzled into the pillow and sniffed softly.

That was the worst possible thing that he could have done as he found himself taking in a heaving breath. He knew he was going to sneeze, and he quickly buried his nose into the pillow to avoid sneezing on the back of Mycroft’s neck.

Huh’hrahhhshhhfff!

Gregory quickly sat up, sneezing violently, and more audibly, once again.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

Mycroft stirred at the second sneeze, turning to face his partner. In the faint light he could see that Gregory was taking uneven, hitching breaths, his head tipped back in anticipation. Leaning over, Mycroft clicked on the light.

Already sensitive, the change in light immediately set Gregory off and he was thrown forward with the force, a hand clamped over his nose and mouth.

Hehhhh……Huh……..HuhASHHHHhhooo! Huh’etcssSHHhhoo!

“Oh dear me, Gregory. God bless you!” Mycroft exclaimed worriedly. He reached over for a substantial handful of tissues and handed them to his lover.

Gregory nodded gratefully and pressed them to his now very damp nostrils. “Thanks, love. Sorry,” he murmured, blowing his nose.

“Are you feeling unwell, my dear?” Mycroft asked, scrutinizing his partner. He was growing increasingly concerned about Lestrade’s well being.

Gregory balled up the tissues and swiped at his nose with them. “Yeah, I feel fine. I just got a bit tickly there.”

Mycroft frowned. Gregory wasn’t allergic to much of anything, although he was sensitive to lavender Earl Grey tea (and subsequently lavender). However, that seemed rather irrelevant at the moment, as he wasn’t exactly brewing a pot of tea in their bed in the middle of the night.

Mycroft pondered for a moment and then it occurred to him. How could he have not noticed it before now? He was absolutely outraged that he had not deduced it.

He sniffed experimentally, finding his nose relatively unblocked for the moment. He reached behind him, picked up his pillow and sniffed. It smelled faintly of lavender water. Well, that certainly explained it, he thought.

Gregory furrowed his brow, puzzled at Mycroft’s actions.

“I do apologise, dearest, but it appears that the pillowcases have been treated with lavender water, most likely to aide in ironing. It is clearly playing havoc with your sinuses,” Mycroft said.

Not thinking clearly, Gregory grabbed the pillow and sniffed it to see for himself.

His breath immediately began to hitch and he turned away from Mycroft, ducking his head down behind the back of his hand.

Hehhhh……Huh……HuhhrahhhSHHhooo! Hehh…….hehhh……huh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

Mycroft shook his head, incredulous. “God bless you again! Gregory, why on earth did you do that?”

Gregory looked over at him, a sheepish grin on his face. He then quickly had to turn away as he gasped out another violent sneeze.

Heh-heh-huh-hhhhngxissshhooo!

“God bless you,” Mycroft said. He reached over for the tissues once again and pressed several into Gregory’s hand.

While Gregory was busy tending to his nose, Mycroft removed the pillowcases from both pillows. Hopefully, this would allow his lover to sleep without being disturbed by any further irritation.

“Are you alright, my dearest heart?” Mycroft reached out and put a hand on Gregory’s arm.

The older man rubbed his nose with the tissues that he was still holding and nodded.

“I’m fine. It was just a bit of a tickle,” he said, yawning.

Gregory looked over at Mycroft, who was still looking at him in disbelief.

“Really, love. I’m fine. Let’s go back to sleep, yeah?”

“Very well, Gregory,” Mycroft said. The tone in his voice suggested that this would be revisited at the earliest convenience.

Gregory smiled and ran the back of his hand across Mycroft’s cheek, and then pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

“Night, love,” he whispered.

“Good night, dearest,” Mycroft replied as he switched off the light. He settled back in Gregory’s warm embrace. He listened as Gregory’s breathing soon evened out as he fell into slumber.

Mycroft lay there in the dark for some time, thinking. He finally was lulled to sleep by the waves crashing on the beach.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

LMAO! I laughed so hard! The look I imagined on Mycroft's face whe Greg took the pillow and sniffed it. And the inner dialogue to go with that look, "WTF! Why would anyone do such a thing? Is my boyfriend completely mental?" Oh, cally, I just adore this one!

[AngelEyes]

LMAO! I laughed so hard! The look I imagined on Mycroft's face whe Greg took the pillow and sniffed it. And the inner dialogue to go with that look, "WTF! Why would anyone do such a thing? Is my boyfriend completely mental?" Oh, cally, I just adore this one!

SCW, you took the words right out of my brain! It reminds of my response when my sister tastes something gross and holds it out to me, "This is disgusting! Here, try it!" Why on earth would I want to try it if it's disgusting?!?!? But this is Absolutely Greg. Hysterical! I love it!

[cally]

LMAO! I laughed so hard! The look I imagined on Mycroft's face whe Greg took the pillow and sniffed it. And the inner dialogue to go with that look, "WTF! Why would anyone do such a thing? Is my boyfriend completely mental?" Oh, cally, I just adore this one!

I couldn't help it.

SCW, you took the words right out of my brain! It reminds of my response when my sister tastes something gross and holds it out to me, "This is disgusting! Here, try it!" Why on earth would I want to try it if it's disgusting?!?!? But this is Absolutely Greg. Hysterical! I love it!

Yup, that's what I was going for.

I'm in the process of writing a "real" piece and am struggling like whoa, so I wrote this snippet to try and clear/reboot my mind. Oh, and for anyone who's wondering, I'm always willing to take ideas or prompts. I'm very aware that my writing has gotten stale and boring and repetitive, and perhaps a fresh idea from someone would be beneficial.

24. tea

Mycroft absently rubbed at his eye again. His eyes had grown more and more irritated as the day had gone on. He found himself unable to focus on his reading material, and with an aggravated sigh put it to the side. Sniffing wetly, he cringed and rose from his chair. Perhaps a cup of tea was in order.

He made his way to the kitchen and clicked the kettle on. He pulled down his preferred tea, pot, cup, and saucer and laid them all out on the counter while he waited for the water to come to a boil.

He swiped at his nose, trying to will away in the incipient tickle. Deep down he knew it would be futile, like all the other times it had been over the past few weeks. Even the strongest antihistamines could not seem to alleviate his misery. He sniffed again and rubbed his nose between his thumb and index finger; if he could not stop the inevitable, perhaps he could hold it off for just a few more moments.

Unfortunately for Mycroft, the fierce rubbing just intensified the ticklish irritation and he felt his head tipping back of its own accord. He quickly cupped his hands around his nose, as his breath hitched wildly up to a crescendo before he was rewarded with release.

Heh….heh….huh…..ahhhhh…..hehhhh….Mmmpftish! Mmmmmpfch! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftish!

There was a sound behind him, and he whirled around, hands still cupped in place to find Gregory standing there in the doorway, frowning.

“God bless you, love!” He would have continued on, but Mycroft’s breath hitched again and he turned away from him as he began to sneeze again.

Ahhhh-hhhh-Hehmmmpftish! Tisssssh! Tissssssh! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftishoooo! Ishoooo!

“God bless you again, Mycroft,” Gregory said. He had come up behind the younger man and, put a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. He then pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and offered it over.

Mycroft nodded and reached out and took the cloth, quickly covering his nose with it. He waited a moment, as if he were unsure, before his face went slack and he let out another set of rapid and helpless sneezes.

Mmmmmpftish! Tish! Tish! INGtish! Tishoooo! Tishoooo!

He let out a rather undignified moan at the end of the fit and began to blow his nose, sagging against his partner.

“Christ! God bless you again! Let’s sit you down,” he said, leading Mycroft over to a chair.

Nose still buried within the cloth, Mycroft allowed himself to be led. The fit had drained him and worn him out even more.

“Thank you my dear. Apologies,” he murmured stuffily.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. No sense in arguing with him, he thought. “You’re welcome, love.” He brought over a box of tissues and then seeing that the kettle had boiled, began to prepare Mycroft’s tea.

Mycroft sat quietly as he tended to his congested nose. The appendage was still rather ticklish, and he was unwilling to relinquish hold of the handkerchief just yet.

Gregory brought the teapot, cups, and saucers over to the table and sat down next to his lover while he waited for it to seep. He took a good look at Mycroft, who had finally removed the cloth from his nose, and gave a sad sigh. Mycroft looked wretched; his blue eyes were red and watery and there were streaks of allergic tears running down his face. Lestrade plucked a tissue from the box and began to softly, carefully wipe away the traces of allergic misery. He was as gentle as possible and Mycroft gave him a sad smile, and covered Gregory’s hand with his own.

[matilda3948]

Aww...I'll always love Cally drabbles :heart:

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Poor Mycroft. He is lucky that Greg likes a hot mess. Well, we all like a hot mess here, don't we?

[cally]

Aww...I'll always love Cally drabbles

Awwww

Poor Mycroft. He is lucky that Greg likes a hot mess. Well, we all like a hot mess here, don't we?

OMG

See, I have all this work to do, and another piece of writing to work on and what do I write? 1600 words of Mycroft. I need help. Seriously.

25. Sunday

With an internal groan, Mycroft dragged himself out of bed into the en suite as quiet as a mouse. He had no intention of waking Gregory so early. With a barely audible gasp, he regarded his appearance in the mirror; he looked awful. His right eye was red, irritated, and almost completely swollen shut, and both eyes were bright with unshed tears. In fact, the entire right side of his face was swollen and puffy. Yet another reason to keep silent; his lover would certainly scold him for going to the office if he saw him like this.

He had worked far too many days from home or from his private space in the Diogenes this spring and summer. He really could no longer afford to not have his presence felt within Whitehall. He had already heard the rumblings and beginnings of rumours as it was.

Mycroft was so lost within his thoughts and subsequent worries that he was not cognizant of the impending sneezes until they had snatched his breath away. He was unable to muffle or suppress them in any way, and they exploded violently from him.

Gn’TNSGH’SHHHOOO! Heh’NNNG’SHHHHHOOOO!

“Bugger,” he mumbled. There was absolutely no way that Gregory would have slept through such an uncharacteristic outburst, he thought sadly, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them to his now very damp nostrils.

He heard the duvet being shifted and seconds later, he saw Gregory standing in the doorway behind him from his position in front of the mirror.

“God bless . . .,” Gregory began, and then he saw Mycroft’s reflection in the mirror. “Christ, love! Are you ok?” He was about to cross the threshold into the en suite, but something in Mycroft’s body language kept him standing in the doorway.

“My apologies for waking you,” Mycroft said stuffily, his voice muffled by the tissues. “And yes, I am perfectly fine,” he added. Unfortunately, he sniffled at the same time, a liquid squelching sound that indicated that he clearly was not fine. Normally, he would have blown his nose, but he was convinced if he did so, he would start sneezing and he was afraid if he started, he might not be able to stop.

Gregory leaned against the doorjam and crossed his arms. “Yeah, you look and sound great,” he said sarcastically. Yawning, he turned and looked at the clock. Just after 6 am. On a Sunday. Fuck this, he thought. He was going back to sleep, Mycroft be damned.

“You are aware it’s Sunday, right?” Gregory asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, and somewhat failed.

Mycroft glared at him.

Gregory put his hands up in a defensive action. “Fine, fine,” he sighed. “I’m going back to bed,” he said through a yawn. With a final, sad look at Mycroft, he turned and headed back into the bedroom.

Mycroft exhaled noisily and sat down on the edge of the tub and put his head in his hands. His sinuses protested the movement; his nose began to simultaneously drip and tickle. He gave a soft, hitching breath and found himself bent over in a flurry of sneezes.

Hehhhhhh………Huh’ING’SHHHHH! Tish! Heh! --Ah-hehhhh Aah! Heh’INGHtighsh! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO! Ahhh-hent’ISH! Heh’NGISH! NGISHOOO!

His tissues were now completely sodden and useless and there was little he could do from his precarious perch on the tub. He moaned helplessly and gave into the relentless fit.

Heh’INGHtighsh! MmmpfTIGish! Heh……huh’mmmmpTNSGH! HDSCHHhhhh!! Heh’TNSGH! Heh’IMPFTIGH’ish!

Somewhere in the midst of the unrelenting sneezes, he felt warm strong hands holding him steady, and a soft cloth being nudged into his hands. Mycroft could do little more than nod, completely lost within the hitching breaths and ticklish sensations.

Hng’ISSH! Heh……hhhmmmmpTNSGH! INGISHHHHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh! --Ah-hehhhh Aah! Hng’ISSH! Hng’mmpftish! Hehhhh…. Ahhhhh hehhhh…..

MmmmINGHtighsh! Hehhhhhhh………INGHtighshOOO!

“God bless you again and again and again!” Gregory exclaimed worriedly. He had moved to sit down next to Mycroft and had then put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders, offering comfort.

“Thank you,” Mycroft finally managed to say after spending several minutes attempting to clear out his sinuses, willing himself to not succumb to any additional paroxysms.

Gregory just nodded, and wiped a stray allergic tear from the corner of Mycroft’s eye.

“I thought you were going back to sleep,” Mycroft said softly.

The older man chuckled. “And leave you all on your own in the middle of a fit like that? Sleep can wait.”

Mycroft blushed, and turned away, embarrassed.

“Hey sunshine, look at me,” Gregory caressed Mycroft’s cheek and then gently pulled his chin so they were facing each other.

Gregory sighed and tried to make his thoughts coherent. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just hate to see you suffering and I . . .” His voice trailed off and he ran a hand through his silver hair in frustration.

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply, but found himself pitching forward with a pair of vicious sneezes.

Ahhhh…..heh’TISHoooooo! Heh’MMMPFTISHooo!

“God bless you again!” Gregory bit his lower lip, worriedly.

“Thank you,” Mycroft murmured from the depths of the handkerchief. He was going to need a second one very shortly, he thought to himself. “Again, my apologies,” he added unnecessarily. He sighed and sagged into Gregory’s embrace.

“S’alright,” Gregory murmured, pressing a kiss into the top of Mycroft’s head.

“Come back to bed? Please?” He asked, hopefully. “I’ll run down and get you an ice pack first, if you want.”

Resigned, Mycroft nodded.

Gregory stood, and then helped Mycroft to his feet, kissing him gently on the cheek. “Why don’t you take your pill now, and you probably should take a decongestant as well, and I’ll be back in a mo.”

Sniffling, Mycroft nodded again and moved toward where the pills were kept. Gregory headed out of the room, pausing a second to glance again at Mycroft.

Frowning, he headed downstairs. He wondered if Mycroft had not been taking his medication reliably or if there was something different about this year’s pollen count. His lover hadn’t been out of the country in several months, so travel was not to blame. They were both careful not to introduce any new plants, flowers, hygiene products, or detergents in spring and summer, so it couldn’t be any of that either.

Gregory stood in the kitchen, lost in thought. Out of habit, he flicked the kettle on and began to prepare a cup of tea for Mycroft. He then rummaged in the freezer and pulled out an eye mask and a regular ice pack, before preparing the tea.

A few minutes later, he was heading back to their bedroom, scowling at, but not surprised at the sounds coming from behind the door as he walked down the hall and into the room.

Hehhhhh’TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh’NNNG’SHHHHH! Huh’Hng’ISSHOOO! Ahhhh’TISHOOO!

Mycroft was back in bed, hands and tissues cupped around his nose, and allergic tears were running down his face.

“Oh love. God bless you,” Gregory said sadly.

Mycroft wiped his nose carefully and then tossed the damp tissues into the bin beside the bed. He grabbed another handful and held them at the ready, unsure if he was going to need them or not.

“Thank you, my dear,” he sniffed, rubbing at his itchy eyes.

Gregory put the tea down next to his partner, and then got back into bed beside him. “Drink up, and then you can put the icepacks on. See if we can get that swelling down a bit, maybe get a bit more sleep too,” he said.

Mycroft picked up the tea and took a delicate sip, careful to keep the steam from rising near his delicate nostrils. He was quite done with sneezing at the moment, thank you very much.

Gregory turned on his side, and propped his head up on his arm, watching Mycroft intently, as if the answers were to be found by looking at him.

Mycroft turned toward him, unable not to notice the scrutiny. He raised an eyebrow.

Gregory smiled. “Just thinking how lucky I am to have such a gorgeous creature in bed with me,” he said, winking cheekily at Mycroft.

Mycroft raised both eyebrows. “Did you hit your head while you were downstairs? I am quite certain that I am nothing to look at, especially right now.”

The silver haired man grinned. “You’re perfect,” he said, intertwining their fingers. “And gorgeous and brilliant and sexy,” he added, rubbing his thumb across the top of Mycroft’s hand.

Blushing, Mycroft turned away, rubbing his reddened nose with the tissues. He didn’t quite know how to respond. He took another mouthful of tea and put it to the side and made himself comfortable. He knew what came next.

Gregory took a sleep mask and put it over Mycroft’s eyes, careful not to brush up against his lover’s sensitive nose. He then put the frozen eye mask over it. “All right? Not too cold?”

“It is fine for the moment, my dear. Thank you.”

Gregory settled back down and pulled Mycroft into his arms, careful not to dislodge the masks. “Try and rest, yeah?” Gregory yawned and buried his head into the space between Mycroft’s head and his shoulder. He was back to sleep in minutes.

Mycroft heard Gregory’s breathing even out as he slept. He raised the masks and smiled fondly at his sleeping partner. He removed the eye mask and left the now considerably less cold one over his eyes, hoping that it would indeed reduce some of the puffiness. He was very grateful to have such a loving and considerate partner like Gregory Lestrade, he thought, placing a tender kiss to the older man’s forehead.

“No, I am the lucky one, my dear,” he whispered. He snuggled back down and was lulled back to sleep by Gregory’s steady heartbeat.

26. running

Gregory Lestrade never had to worry about his weight and he had kept in relatively good shape playing football, especially in his younger years. As he got older, and subsequently spent less time playing sport and more time eating takeaways as part of a busy detective inspectors diet, he found that he was getting a slight paunch. That and he was having an increasingly difficult time chasing after Sherlock, the lanky git.

He had started running a few times a week, when his schedule allowed of course. Mycroft had told him he could use his treadmill, but there was nothing Lestrade found more boring, apart than the paperwork that was currently piled atop his desk at New Scotland Yard.

He left Mycroft with his tea and newspapers, placing a quick kiss on the younger gentleman’s hair, and headed outside. He warmed up, walking towards Hyde Park, and then broke into an easy run. It was a gorgeous day with blue skies overhead and a gentle, but steady breeze blowing.

He kept an even pace around the perimeter of the park, occasionally giving nods to the other runners, walkers, and cyclists. He often wished that he could enjoy this with Mycroft, but he knew that within ten minutes and Mycroft would be a sneezy, congested mess, the poor thing.

He was about halfway around the park, and he found that his nose was starting to drip. He sniffled wetly, rubbing the back of his hand under his nose, trying to keep the moisture contained within his nostrils. Unlike his partner, the pollinating flora and fauna didn’t really affect him, so he was unsure as to what was causing this nasal disturbance.

He sniffed again and tried to maintain a steady pace, despite the fact that it was starting to become a bit of an annoyance. If it were autumn or winter, at least he would have a sleeve to rub his nose against, despite how unhygienic it might be. But it was summer and he was just in a t-shirt.

Rubbing at his nose, he slowed his pace down to a walk and moved off the general path for a moment. Given the breeze, he didn’t want to attempt a typical runners move while he was also running. He made sure no one was behind him and bent down as if he was tying his shoelace, and tried to clear his nostrils.

Standing up, he quickly stretched, and continued the rest of the way around Hyde Park, still frequently sniffling. He shrugged it off, figuring it was the wind or something and made his way back to the townhouse.

Once he was in sight of home, he slowed his pace to a walk and then paused to stretch. Sniffing yet again, he headed inside. He wandered into the kitchen and pulled an ice-cold bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He sat down, stretching his legs out and downed it quickly, enjoying the refreshing beverage. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm, sniffling damply in annoyance.

Mycroft came in to the kitchen, having heard his lover return. “How was your run, my dear?”

Gregory turned and smiled. “It was good, thanks,” he said, another liquid sniffle escaping.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the sound. “Are you alright?” He looked at his partner questioningly.

“Yeah, m’fine. Nose is just a bit drippy, that’s all.” He rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist.

Mycroft made a face of displeasure. “Dear me, Gregory.” He shook his head in exasperation and walked over to the counter where the tissues were and brought them over to where the detective inspector was sitting.

Just as he joined him at the table, Gregory took a shuddering breath and let out a violent sneeze, having quickly turned his head away.

Huh’hrahhhSHHhooo!

“Good heavens! God bless you!” Mycroft exclaimed worriedly as he handed over a handful of tissues to his partner.

“Thanks,” Lestrade said, pressing them to his nose. It took a few moments, and several fresh tissues, but finally his nose had stopped being bothersome.

“You’re welcome,” Mycroft replied. “Are you certain that you are well, my dear?”

Gregory nodded and rose to his feet, stretching a bit as he did. “I need a shower,” he said, heading out of the room.

“Hey,” he said, turning back to Mycroft. “Would you like to go out for lunch?”

Mycroft brightened at the suggestion. “That’s a splendid idea, Gregory.” He smiled broadly at his lover.

Gregory quickly crossed back over to Mycroft and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Good,” he said, pulling back and winking boldly at him. He then turned and bounded up the stairs to their bedroom to shower and dress.

[AngelEyes]

“Bugger,” he mumbled. There was absolutely no way that Gregory would have slept through such an uncharacteristic outburst, he thought sadly, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them to his now very damp nostrils.

I can totally picture him exclaiming this. LOL.

Normally, he would have blown his nose, but he was convinced if he did so, he would start sneezing and he was afraid if he started, he might not be able to stop.

One of the sexiest lines ever written. I may have just died there. Briefly. In anticipation. And it absolutely did not disappoint! Poor Mycroft! What absolute misery. But Oh So Sweet.....

“God bless you again and again and again!” Gregory exclaimed worriedly.

I love when Greg says it this way.

“Hey sunshine, look at me,” Gregory caressed Mycroft’s cheek and then gently pulled his chin so they were facing each other.

Awww! Sunshine!

Frowning, he headed downstairs. He wondered if Mycroft had not been taking his medication reliably or if there was something different about this year’s pollen count. His lover hadn’t been out of the country in several months, so travel was not to blame. They were both careful not to introduce any new plants, flowers, hygiene products, or detergents in spring and summer, so it couldn’t be any of that either.

Puzzling indeed. ???

Gregory turned on his side, and propped his head up on his arm, watching Mycroft intently, as if the answers were to be found by looking at him.

Mycroft turned toward him, unable not to notice the scrutiny. He raised an eyebrow.

Gregory smiled. “Just thinking how lucky I am to have such a gorgeous creature in bed with me,” he said, winking cheekily at Mycroft.

Mycroft raised both eyebrows. “Did you hit your head while you were downstairs? I am quite certain that I am nothing to look at, especially right now.”

The silver haired man grinned. “You’re perfect,” he said, intertwining their fingers. “And gorgeous and brilliant and sexy,” he added, rubbing his thumb across the top of Mycroft’s hand.

I love how cute they are together.

That and he was having an increasingly difficult time chasing after Sherlock, the lanky git.

ROTFL!

I'll just say the idea of Greg out running, mmmmmm.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Aww! Greg to the rescue. He's Mycroft's knight in shining amour. I'm glad Mycroft is no shrinking violet, but he is still learning it's ok to let somone take of him once in a while.

I like in the second how a sneeze is just a sneeze. I hope they have a lovely lunch.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh, and Greg calling Mycroft "Sunshine" is so cute. I'm sure Sherlock would have gagged, since to him big brother is more like a black rain cloud.

[cally]

One of the sexiest lines ever written. I may have just died there. Briefly. In anticipation. And it absolutely did not disappoint! Poor Mycroft! What absolute misery. But Oh So Sweet.....

Awww thank you.

Oh, and Greg calling Mycroft "Sunshine" is so cute. I'm sure Sherlock would have gagged, since to him big brother is more like a black rain cloud.

I've seen it done in other fics; I couldn't help but steal it myself!

Ok on the advice of scw, I'm trying something new. This will probably take place over a few instalments and could probably stand on its own, but I have a rule about not starting anything new right now, not when I have an outstanding fic. And this way I can write small snippets of it occasionally.


27. a chance encounter (uni!AU)

1990

Mycroft was attempting to get some studying done. He was in the quiet study portion of the library, but it seemed the rest of the patrons had NOT gotten that message. Or had learned how to read. He scowled in their direction.

He was sitting at the end of a semi-long table, as all of the smaller single cubby spaces were taken, his books and notebooks piled up neatly in front of him. He removed his fountain pen from his leather satchel and selected a tome from the stack.

He was deeply engrossed with his reading and note taking when another student sat down at the other end of the table. He barely gave the young man a second glance; he just rolled his eyes, wishing he could have had the space to himself for longer.

He was lost in his political science text for the better part of an hour, when he realised he was hunched over and his neck was starting to ache. He put his pen down and took a moment to stretch, pausing to take a better look at his tablemate. The young man was older than he was; his hair was dark, but there were a few faint streaks of silver mixed in. He was reading a criminology text; so perhaps a student from the Crime Academy or a Sociology major. He favoured the Crime Academy deduction based on the additional details of his notebook, writing implement, and choice of clothing.

Sighing internally, Mycroft returned to his studies. He vaguely noticed when the other man rose from his seat. He returned a few moments later with two books from the stacks and resumed his silent reading. At least he was quiet, Mycroft though to himself, unlike the rest of those ignoramuses who were still chatting idly away.

Mycroft picked up a second book and flipped thought a few pages until he found the section he needed and began to read. Moments later, he returned to his original book, Disarmament: Its Politics and Economics, and was lost in “Internal Enforcement of International Rules,” when a sudden, loud sneeze startled him out of his concentration.

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

Mycroft looked over in alarm at the young man at the opposite end of the table. He had a tanned hand pressed up against his nose, and Mycroft could see a red flush blooming across his cheeks.

The stranger sniffed and rubbed at his nose in embarrassment. “Sorry. S’cuse me.” he murmured softly, looking back at Mycroft.

“Bless you,” Mycroft said quietly.

“Tha-ahhhhhnks,” the other man tried to reply, before succumbing to another viscous sneeze.

Huh……HuhhrahhhSHHhooo!

“Bless you!” Mycroft exclaimed. And then, being the polite gentleman that he was, he removed his pristine handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to the student.

Sniffling damply, the older student accepted it gratefully. “Thank you,” he said congestedly, before taking a moment to tend to his nose.

“Sorry for disturbing you,” he said, wiping at his nose. “You looked like you were concentrating hard.” He thought a moment. “Oh, my name is Greg. He offered his hand.

Mycroft accepted and shook his hand. “Mycroft,” he said. “Is that short for Gregory? I do prefer to use proper names,” he added.

Gregory chucked. “It is,” he said through his laughter. What the hell kind of name was Mycroft, he thought to himself in amusement. It sounded like something out of a Victorian novel.

“It is a family name.” Mycroft answered the unasked question.

Gregory gaped at him. “How did you . . .?” His voice trailed off.

“It is the usual reaction people have upon hearing my name. That and you looked . . . amused,” Mycroft said, a smile playing across his lips.

Gregory rubbed at his nose; it was beginning to tickle alarmingly again. For some reason the old books and dust seemed to be irritating him today. He smiled back at Mycroft, who was looking at him like he was trying to memorise every line on his face. A bit young, he thought. And well proper to boot. Still, it wasn’t every day gorgeous young things were looking at him like that.

“I could murder a coffee,” he said. “Would you like to come with?”

This time it was Mycroft’s turn to gape. “Excuse me?”

Gregory grinned. “Would you like to go for a coffee with me?”

Mycroft blinked. This beautiful specimen of a man wanted to have coffee, with him? There must be a catch; or a joke in it somewhere. If he were anywhere else he would have suspected Sherlock’s involvement. He carefully scrutinised Gregory and could deduce no ulterior motive other than actually wanting to go for a coffee.

After a moment of internal debate, Mycroft nodded. “I would be delighted to join you,” he said.

They both packed up their materials, and after a moment as Gregory needed to return the books he had borrowed from the stacks, they headed out to the small café adjacent to the library.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Ha! Totally awesome. I love old book smell but they do make some people sniffly. And I can remember being very annoyed by other library patrons. Wonderful exchange between Mycroft and Gregory. I can almost see Mycroft looking behind himself and then at Greg, thinking me, you want to have coffee with me?

[AngelEyes]

Oooh. Fun!

[Juto]

Ahhh this was just great! Young Gregory and Mycroft. Just delightful.

[cally]

Ha! Totally awesome. I love old book smell but they do make some people sniffly. And I can remember being very annoyed by other library patrons. Wonderful exchange between Mycroft and Gregory. I can almost see Mycroft looking behind himself and then at Greg, thinking me, you want to have coffee with me?

The library that I've spent a fair amount of time in lately has a ton of old books. I'm not using any, but my flatmate's studies require old records, hence old books. They smell musty and dusty.

And yes, that's exactly Mycroft's thinking here!

Oooh. Fun!

I do try.

Ahhh this was just great! Young Gregory and Mycroft. Just delightful.

Thank you!

Here's a bit more. And in regards to the dates in the latter section, I sort of tried to keep canon compliant, but I figured, close enough, eh?

28. Coffee (UniAU! part 2)

Bright sunshine was filtering through the trees that lined the walkway of the library. The grey skies he had encountered in the morning had given way to the beautiful day he was witnessing now. Lestrade mentally lamented the fact that he was spending yet another nice day inside studying and then turned his attention to the student beside him.

As they walked the short distance to the cafe, he risked a glance at Mycroft, taking in the student’s long legs and rather pert bottom. He was grinning as they reached the café’s entrance. As they walked up the stone steps, Greg caught the sun’s reflection in the glass. This intensified the perilous tickle that had plagued him moments ago, and he nearly lost his footing as he succumbed to the pair of harsh sneezes that he was rather unprepared for.

Huh……HuhhrahhhSHHhooo! Hehhhh . . . Huh’ASHHHHhhooo!

“Goodness, bless you!” Mycroft had quickly reached out to steady him, and received a sheepish grin in return. He felt a fluttering in his stomach, and he couldn’t help but smile again.

“Thanks,” Greg said, removing the handkerchief from his pocket. He quickly swiped at his nose as they walked inside the café. “Sorry,” he murmured after the fact.

“You’re welcome. Are you sure you’re alright?” Mycroft gave him a curious look as they waited to place their order.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Greg said, and gave Mycroft another winning smile.

They spent a pleasant afternoon getting to know each other. Mycroft learned that Greg was indeed at the crime academy and Lestrade learned that Mycroft was studying political science, international relations, and several languages in addition. He was a bit flummoxed that the ginger haired student was taking such an interest in him; he was clearly brilliant while Greg was more of the ‘get your hands dirty’ kind of guy.

Nevertheless, Mycroft was gorgeous, and he hoped that he would be able to see more of him. He gave him a soft, fond look as they continued to talk.

After about 45 minutes, Mycroft looked at his watch. He unfortunately had a previous engagement that he wished he could postpone now. Instead, he made his apologies, but not before making sure that they had exchanged numbers.

Greg went home with a spring in his step that evening, despite all the coursework he had yet to cover.

Two weeks later:

Despite his busy schedule, his studies, and a few 5 aside games, Lestrade left as much of his schedule open in case he heard from Mycroft. He tried to call him a few times, but all he got was a ringing phone for his trouble.

Two weeks later, he tried calling again, only this time he found that the number had been disconnected. With a heavy sigh, he hung up the phone. He looked at the paper with the number and Mycroft’s name written on it, and sadly tossed it in the bin.

Twenty years, 4 months, 8 days later

Detective Inspector Lestrade was suffering rather miserably. He had a horrible cold that he couldn’t seem to shake; it had been days since he had been able to breathe through his nose, even longer since his throat hadn’t felt like sandpaper. Heading back from a meeting with his DCI, he paused outside his door and muffled a sneeze into a nearly useless tissue.

Huh’hrahhhshhhfff!

Making a disgusted face, he shoved the tissue into his pocket and opened the door to his office. He shut the door behind him and was rather surprised to find a very well dressed, dark-haired gentleman sitting in the chair in front of his desk. His coat looked to cost more than Lestrade’s entire wardrobe, and he was holding the handle of a proper umbrella. Whoever this was, they had to have connections; even unwell, he was still cognizant of that. It wasn’t exactly easy to find yourself situated in the office of a DI in Scotland Yard. Alone.

He opened his mouth to speak, and hardly a sound emerged. He cleared his throat, fighting back the urge to wince, as the pain in his throat had gone from sandpaper to crushed glass. Walking behind the desk and moving toward his own chair, he finally found his voice. “How can I help you?” He asked his voice gravelly, as he sat down.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Oh lovely! You wrote more and there is obviously more to come! Mycroft never returned Greg's calls? He better have a good excuse. Like being kidnapped by Russians or something. Wonder what the reunion is going to be like?

Feel free to mess with the cannon if you have a good idea. Nothing is set in stone.

[Juto]

Oh Gosh. I love it! Them meeting so much later in life.... WEEEEEEEEE star crossed lovers these two... They're simply meant to be

I'll just sit here and wait for more