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

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

“God bless you, Myc,” Greg said, reaching for the tissue box. He handed another handful to his lover and looked him over carefully.

“Thank you, my dear,” Mycroft said from behind the tissues.

Greg knew he was scrutinizing Mycroft, but he was worried about the younger man. Mycroft had seemed out of sorts and sniffly all day.

“I am fine, Gregory,” Mycroft said, responding to the unasked question.

Greg quirked an eyebrow and looked as if he was going to say something, but kept his mouth shut for the moment.

Mycroft’s lips twitched, as if he was going to smile. “A cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss, however.”

“Right,” Greg said, pressing a kiss to Mycroft’s forehead before getting to his feet. “Be back in a tick.”

This made me smile so hard. They're simply adorable.

[AngelEyes]

Awww. Poor Mycroft. He sounds miserable. Yay for caretaking!Greg.

[cally]

This made me smile so hard. They're simply adorable.

I do try.

I really hope for Mycroft's sake that the sneezing and blowing his nose wasn't what finally triggered the connection. That would annoy him endlessly if he had to be a sneezy mess to figure out the most difficult issues.

No, that was merely coincidental.

Methinks Mycroft is attempting to distract Greg. Hmm...

You think?

Awww. Poor Mycroft. He sounds miserable. Yay for caretaking!Greg

He really is starting to feel unwell. Good thing Greg's around to take care of him.

44. Sunday, continued

Greg wasn’t stupid; he knew Mycroft was feeling under the weather. Despite that it might cause him a bit of irritation, he pulled down the lavender Earl Grey. He figured that as long as he avoided the steam, he should be fine.

While he waited for the water to boil, he scrolled through his email, finding nothing of significance. He then pulled out a tray and set out some teacups and a packet of biscuits. Once the water had boiled, he carefully poured the water into the pot, avoiding the rising steam. Once everything was ready, he picked up the tray and headed back to his partner.

Greg was fine until he reached the threshold of the living room. There was enough of a draft that the steam wafted up toward his nostrils. He could feel the sneeze building, and he quickly ducked his head into his shoulder.

HRDSCHHhhhh!

Mycroft was slightly startled, and he looked up sharply. Seeing Greg’s predicament, he rose and took the tray from his partner, placing it on the coffee table. “God bless you, my dear.”

“Thanks,” Greg gasped out, before succumbing to a second vicious sneeze.

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!

“Goodness! God bless you again!” Mycroft studied his partner, but was unable to deduce anything other than a minor irritation.

“Ta, love.” Greg grabbed a tissue from the box on the table, and swiped at his nose.

They both sat down, and as usual, Mycroft poured out the tea for them both. The younger man took a sip and smiled. “You did not have to make this particular blend,” he said. “But it is very much appreciated,” he added.

Greg shrugged and picked up his own cup along with a biscuit. He leaned back on the sofa, stretching his legs out. It was nice to relax and spend time with his lover, no matter what kind of tea they were drinking.

Mycroft also settled back, moving slightly closer to Greg, so that their legs were just touching. He sniffed, wrinkling the bridge of his long nose. Oh, this infernal irritation, he thought. It was starting to become rather bothersome. He ran his index finger under his nostrils, and wasn’t surprised to find it come away damp. He was going to have to resign himself to the fact that he was feeling less than healthy. With a sigh, he put his cup down and reached for the tissues.

Greg raised an eyebrow and reached over and squeezed Mycroft’s thigh. He watched as Mycroft dabbed at his nose, wishing he could do something to alleviate his lover’s discomfort.

Mycroft sniffed again, rubbing his nose with the now balled up tissue. He might have huffed out an annoyed sigh, before his breath hitched and wavered, but nothing came of it.

Chuckling, Greg looked over at Mycroft. “Are you ok?”

Mycroft blinked a few times, his breathing erratic for a moment. It took a moment for him to recover as he waited to see if the sneeze would come to fruition. “It is just a minor irritation,” he finally said.

“Mmmm. Right,” Greg said. He obviously wasn’t convinced. So, he did what any concerned partner would do. He leaned over and quickly placed several light, butterfly kisses on Mycroft’s nose.

Mycroft pulled back quickly in surprise, stifling a sneeze.

Mmmpfch!

A second immediately followed, only it was impossible for Mycroft to control or hold back in any way. Its harshness rocked him forward and Greg reached out to steady him.

Heh’TISSSHHoooo!

“Jesus! Bless you, love!”

“Thank you. My apologies, Gregory,” Mycroft said, but his voice was wavering again.

Greg grabbed a handful of tissues and pressed them into Mycroft’s waiting hand. He watched as Mycroft’s eyes fluttered shut and he quickly buried his nose into the tissues, the sneezes overpowering him.

Mmmmpftish! Mmmmpftighx! Mmmmpftx! Tish! Tish! Heh’TISSSHOOO!

“Bless you, bless you, bless you!” Greg said, worriedly.

“Thank you. Again, my apologies,” Mycroft murmured stuffily, blowing his nose as gently as possible. That had been entirely unpleasant and he had no desire for a repeat performance. Not to mention his sinuses were starting to feel inflamed, especially on the right side of his face.

Greg turned to him. “Are you sure you’re alright, love?”

Mycroft sniffled again while he debated if he should be forthcoming or not. Although, Greg was perceptive enough and was most likely aware he was feeling unwell.

“I am feeling a bit congested,” Mycroft conceded. He took another sip of his tea and contemplated eating a biscuit. His long fingers twitched toward the packet.

Greg laughed softly. “Go on then. I know you want one. And it will make you feel better.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, but he removed a biscuit all the same.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Greg wasn’t stupid; he knew Mycroft was feeling under the weather. Despite that it might cause him a bit of irritation, he pulled down the lavender Earl Grey. He figured that as long as he avoided the steam, he should be fine.

Aww...willing to sacrifice himself.

Mycroft blinked a few times, his breathing erratic for a moment. It took a moment for him to recover as he waited to see if the sneeze would come to fruition. “It is just a minor irritation,” he finally said.

“Mmmm. Right,” Greg said. He obviously wasn’t convinced. So, he did what any concerned partner would do. He leaned over and quickly placed several light, butterfly kisses on Mycroft’s nose.

Anything to make Mycroft feel better.

Mycroft sniffled again while he debated if he should be forthcoming or not. Although, Greg was perceptive enough and was most likely aware he was feeling unwell.

“I am feeling a bit congested,” Mycroft conceded. He took another sip of his tea and contemplated eating a biscuit. His long fingers twitched toward the packet.

Greg laughed softly. “Go on then. I know you want one. And it will make you feel better.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, but he removed a biscuit all the same.

Even offering...biscuits! Think they were Chocolate Hobnobs?

[AngelEyes]

Greg wasn’t stupid; he knew Mycroft was feeling under the weather. Despite that it might cause him a bit of irritation, he pulled down the lavender Earl Grey. He figured that as long as he avoided the steam, he should be fine.

Awww! Taking care of his love!

Oh, this infernal irritation, he thought. It was starting to become rather bothersome.

That sounds like a distinct understatement coming from Mycroft. Then again, he is used to much worse...

“Mmmm. Right,” Greg said. He obviously wasn’t convinced. So, he did what any concerned partner would do. He leaned over and quickly placed several light, butterfly kisses on Mycroft’s nose.

Such a tease. I think he finds this a bit too amusing for Mycroft's sake at times, even if it can be helpful.

That had been entirely unpleasant and he had no desire for a repeat performance.

I just like this phrasing. Entirely unpleasant. LOL

[Skyler]

I finally came back to the forum, and I finally started watching the show after about a year of reading fanfiction...I have to say, I've been binge watching a tad. I'm hooked. On the subject of that, I'm still enjoying these drabbles just as much as ever!

[cally]

On 30 January 2016 at 11:53 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Anything to make Mycroft feel better.

Clearly.  And being a tease is obviously what will help.

 

On 31 January 2016 at 2:35 AM, AngelEyes said:

I just like this phrasing. Entirely unpleasant. LOL

Mycroft would think so. 

 

On 21 February 2016 at 10:09 PM, Skyler said:

I finally came back to the forum, and I finally started watching the show after about a year of reading fanfiction...I have to say, I've been binge watching a tad. I'm hooked. On the subject of that, I'm still enjoying these drabbles just as much as ever!

I'm glad you're enjoying!  Thanks for reading.

45.  an adventure in cooking

Mycroft came in after a long, trying day at work.  Not only did he have to deal with the Prime Minister all afternoon, but Sherlock had broken into his office the evening before and put all his files in reverse alphabetical order just to be annoying.  It had taken him the better part of the morning to put them back in order.  Right now, he wanted a cup of tea, or better yet a fine, aged whiskey.

He put his briefcase in his office, and was about to go in search of either of the beverages when he heard Greg sneeze viciously from the kitchen.  It wasn’t his partner’s normal sneeze; it was a pair, one on top of the other.  Curious, he headed toward the kitchen.

As Mycroft walked into the room, Greg sneezed again, the pattern the same as moments before.

Huh . . . Heh’DSCH!  Heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

“Goodness, Gregory! God bless you!” 

 

Greg was stood in the kitchen, angled away from the stove, a saucepan bubbling on the stove and spices strewn across the worktop.   He looked up at Mycroft, his eyes damp and streaming.  He was about to thank his lover, when his breath heaved and hitched and he quickly ducked his head down into his shoulder.

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

“God bless you again!”

Greg sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.  “Thanks, love. Long day?” He asked knowingly.  He sniffled damply.

Nodding, Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  “Are you alright?”

Nodding, Greg gasped and sneezed in response.

Ahhh . . . .Heh . . . . . . HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

“God bless you my dear,” Mycroft fretted, as he handed his handkerchief over.

 

“Thank you,” Greg said.  He wiped his eyes and then blew his nose gently, before shoving the cloth into the pocket of his trousers.

“What is the meaning of all of this?”  Mycroft asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

“I was going to make you a nice meal, but . . .,” Greg’s voice trailed off as he looked at the sauce that was boiling away rather rapidly.  Normally, he was quite a good cook, but he had become distracted when he had gotten a call from the Yard.  Hence, the disaster before them now.

Mycroft smiled for the first time that day.  He approached Greg and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thank you, my dear.

 

“For?  This isn’t exactly going to be edible,” Greg said with a sigh.  He reached over and turned off the stove.  Its contents were still aromatic and Greg’s nose was still a bit irritated; he whirled away, sneezing harshly again.  He nearly bent double from the force and Mycroft reached out to steady him.

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!  HRDSCHHhhhhooo!  

“Christ,” he mumbled, grabbing the handkerchief from his pocket.

“Good heavens, Gregory.  God bless you!”

Nodding, Greg snuffled into the cloth.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  “There is nothing to apologise for, my dear.”  He squeezed Greg’s shoulder and smiled fondly.  He idly wondered if his compulsive apologising was carrying over to his partner.

“Perhaps a nice takeaway would suffice,” Mycroft said.

Greg grinned.  He knew that Mycroft’s idea of a takeaway was a delivery from any of the best restaurants in London.  Still, he thought, there were certainly worse things

 

“What about this?” Greg said, gesturing at the kitchen.

Mycroft removed his jacket and hung it up on the back of a chair.  “If you put the kettle on, I will give you a hand at cleaning this up.”  He removed his cufflinks and placed them in the pocket of his waistcoat, and then rolled his sleeves up.

Greg turned to fill the kettle, but first snuck an approving glance at the pale, freckled skin of Mycroft’s forearms.   Mycroft rolled his eyes, but enjoyed the appraising look all the same as he began to tidy the kitchen.

[AngelEyes]

3 hours ago, cally said:

Mycroft smiled for the first time that day.  He approached Greg and kissed him on the cheek.  “Thank you, my dear.

Awww!

3 hours ago, cally said:

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.  “There is nothing to apologise for, my dear.”  He squeezed Greg’s shoulder and smiled fondly.  He idly wondered if his compulsive apologising was carrying over to his partner.

Ha! That's what you get Mycroft!

3 hours ago, cally said:

Greg turned to fill the kettle, but first snuck an approving glance at the pale, freckled skin of Mycroft’s forearms.   Mycroft rolled his eyes, but enjoyed the appraising look all the same as he began to tidy the kitchen.

Greg, always incorrigible! Although I have to say, I find that image quite appealing myself!

You totally made my night! Just the way to end a long, hard day. Yay for Mystrade! Yay for cally!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I completely sympathize with Mycroft. I've had days like that, when you walk in the door and think, "Bring on the booze!"

And then some nights you just aren't meant to cook, Greg. *shrugs*  

@AngelEyes I'm with you! Freckled forearms dusted with ginger hair are very appealing.

[cally]

 

 

[cally]

For some reason it won't let me edit/fix things right now, but here's what I actually meant to post!

And this is b/c scw didn't think I could manage a drabble on Greg without involving Mycroft's own ailments.

 

46.  Steam

Greg couldn’t remember the last time he had been so unwell.  He felt miserable to his very core.  He was exhausted because every time he tried to settle down to sleep, he was so congested that he had to sit back up. 

Grateful he had been left on his own, he brewed a pot of tea and brought it upstairs.  He really wasn’t in the mood for Mycroft’s obsessing coddling.  He then gathered some old flannels he had rescued from the fate of the bin.  Mycroft would have just tossed them away, but Greg knew the value of money, so he put them aside to wash his car.  Now, that wasn’t what he was going to use them for, but the sentiment remained the same.

He put the cloths into an old carrier bag, then grabbed a second one, and brought all of his accumulated items into the bathroom.  He was suddenly rather thankful for Mycroft’s ostentatious steam shower, as he turned on the steam jets to the highest setting.  While he waited for it to heat up, he got undressed and wrapped a towel around his waist.  Then, carefully, he brought all of his things into the walk-in steam shower.

Immediately, the steam assaulted him, irritating his congested sinuses.  He gasped out a heady, powerful sneeze.

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

Greg quickly put everything down and then grabbed one of the old flannels before the next thick sneeze came to fruition.

HRDSCHHhhhhooo!  

A third came quickly on its heels and he felt the cloth become increasingly damp. 

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

He gave his nose a harsh blow and then shoved the now useless cloth into the empty carrier bag.  He grabbed a second flannel and swiped at his nose with it before sitting down with a heavy sigh.  His congestion was so dense he could hardly tell if the steam was scented.  He knew Mycroft had taken to adding eucalyptus to it during the worst of his hay fever symptoms.

He sniffed, waiting for a moment.  The faint tickle that had appeared had dissipated, leaving him just as congested as when he started.   He reached for the pot of tea and opened the lid, allowing its lavender steam to mingle with that of the shower.  His nose immediately began to tingle and prickle as he gasped out a vicious sneeze.  It was immediately followed by a second, equally as abrasive.

Huh……..HuhASHHHHhhooo!   Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

“Jesus,” he mumbled, blowing his nose.  He was drained already, yet he was still terribly congested.  The cloth, damp from steam and his ministrations, was put to the side.  He reached forward for another and as he did so, he felt the contents of his sinuses shift.

His breath hitched several times as he built up to a pair of very damp sounding sneezes.

Hehhhh . . . . .hehhhhh . . .. . hehhhh . . . .Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!  HRDSCHHhhhhoooo!  

 He blew his nose several times, trying to clear out as much congestion as possible, while he could.  He made a face at the congested mess he was.  His ears unblocked as he sneezed harshly again.

Huh’HRRDDSHHOOOO!

 “Good heavens, Gregory!  God bless you!”  Came the voice of Mycroft from outside the shower.

“Thags, love.  You’re home early,” Greg said stuffily.  He sniffled damply and rubbed his nose with the flannel.  He wondered how long Mycroft had been standing there listening to him sniffle and sneeze.  Another quickly replaced that thought; Mycroft wouldn’t have waited to offer a blessing, therefore he had just arrived home.  Christ, he was starting to think like his partner.  Or Sherlock.  He shuddered and shook his head as if to clear it.

Though Greg couldn’t see, Mycroft rolled his eyes.  “I thought I would check and see how you were feeling, my dear.”

Greg, however, could not reply.  His nose was tickling something fierce once again, and his breath hitched raggedly as he built up to another pair of congested, heady sneezes.

Heh . . .hehhhh . . .Huh’huhrahhhSHHooo! Heh . . . . . . HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

 “God bless you again,” Mycroft said, worriedly.  He listened as Greg blew his nose for several moments, and then heard him sigh.

“Perhaps you have steamed yourself out, dear,” Mycroft suggested gently.

Greg sat waiting, his sinuses pressure filled and tingling, for the next sneeze.  It seemed to be teasing him; his eyes were watering now.  He rubbed at his nose in annoyance, but was finally granted the relief he sought.

 Hehh’RRSSSHHHOOO!

“And again,” Mycroft said quietly.

Greg snuffled into his damp flannel and got to his feet.  Turning off the steam, he carefully trudged out of the steam shower, drained, but able to breathe slightly. 

The change in temperature from the heat of the shower to the relative coolness of the bathroom made his nose begin to drip.  He swiped at his nose and the touch set him off again, and Greg bent nearly double from the force of the brutal sneeze.

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

Mycroft was there instantly, putting his robe around him, and pulling him close.  “God bless you yet again, my dear.”

“Not done,” Greg gasped out, before he sneezed again.

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

“God bless,” Mycroft murmured softly and somehow managed to produce his handkerchief, which he pressed into Greg’s hand, while removing the sodden flannel and tossing it in the bin.

He then slowly walked Greg into their adjoining bedroom and settled him down on the bed, taking in Greg’s damp, tousled appearance; his pink tinged nose and his rosy from the steam cheeks.  Mycroft gave Greg a moment, and some space to blow his nose.  He cringed at the sound, while also realising how desperate Greg must have been to go through all the trouble to get some relief.

Greg finally looked up at Mycroft, rubbing at his nose.  He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly found himself ducking back down into the soft cloth Mycroft had given him.

Heh . . . . . . HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

 “Oh dear me, Gregory.  God bless you!”  Mycroft sat down next to his ailing partner, squeezing his arm in comfort.

 Greg looked over at him, slightly damp eyed from the last sneeze.

 “Thank you,” he said, resting his head on Mycroft’s shoulder.   He felt weary.  The sneezing was draining what little energy he had left.  He wondered, for not the first or last time, how Mycroft coped in the spring.  At least now he was out of the fragrant steam, and that should keep him from any further extended bouts of sneezing.

 “You’re welcome,” Mycroft said.  “Is there anything you need?  Perhaps now would be a good time to take a decongestant?”  He spoke hesitantly, not wanting to come across as overbearing, but it was difficult given the state he found his partner in currently.

 Greg sniffled in response.  He knew Mycroft was right, and he wasn’t being demanding, like he sometimes got when concerned.  He knew he needed to give in; if for any reason so he could breathe so he could finally get some much needed rest.  He nodded his head against Mycroft’s shoulder.

 Mycroft placed a gentle kiss atop Greg’s damp silver strands.  “I will get it for you, and then I will make us some tea, how does that sound?” 

 Greg thought it sounded heavenly, but all he could do was nod.  He felt Mycroft smile into his hair, before kissing him once again.  Soon, Greg felt Mycroft move, and then his warm hands were maneuvering him up and under the duvet, propping him against the headboard.  Moments later, Mycroft reappeared with a pill and glass of water, with whispered words that he would return shortly.

 Greg took the pill and drank the water.  He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift, waiting for Mycroft’s return. 

 

 

 

[AngelEyes]

Awwwww! I love this! Poor miserable Gregory. I love all his deliberate preparations. LOL. 

14 hours ago, cally said:

He wondered how long Mycroft had been standing there listening to him sniffle and sneeze.  Another quickly replaced that thought; Mycroft wouldn’t have waited to offer a blessing, therefore he had just arrived home.  Christ, he was starting to think like his partner.  Or Sherlock.  He shuddered and shook his head as if to clear it.

 

LOL. Too much time spent...

14 hours ago, cally said:

“Not done,” Greg gasped out, before he sneezed again.

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

This is just hot. Yeah. I like.

14 hours ago, cally said:

He felt weary.  The sneezing was draining what little energy he had left.  He wondered, for not the first or last time, how Mycroft coped in the spring.

Don't we all? Fortunately he has his Gregory.

14 hours ago, cally said:

He nodded his head against Mycroft’s shoulder.

 Mycroft placed a gentle kiss atop Greg’s damp silver strands.  “I will get it for you, and then I will make us some tea, how does that sound?” 

 Greg thought it sounded heavenly, but all he could do was nod.  He felt Mycroft smile into his hair, before kissing him once again.  Soon, Greg felt Mycroft move, and then his warm hands were maneuvering him up and under the duvet, propping him against the headboard.  Moments later, Mycroft reappeared with a pill and glass of water, with whispered words that he would return shortly.

Awwww!!!!! So sweet!!!!!

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

And this is b/c scw didn't think I could manage a drabble on Greg without involving Mycroft's own ailments.

I did. I dared you!  And what a wonderful drabble it is, all focused on Greg, poor baby. (Now it is your turn to dare me to do something.)

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

Grateful he had been left on his own, he brewed a pot of tea and brought it upstairs.  He really wasn’t in the mood for Mycroft’s obsessing coddling.  He then gathered some old flannels he had rescued from the fate of the bin.  Mycroft would have just tossed them away, but Greg knew the value of money, so he put them aside to wash his car.  Now, that wasn’t what he was going to use them for, but the sentiment remained the same.

Hmm...planning. Oh, he is up to something.

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

He sniffed, waiting for a moment.  The faint tickle that had appeared had dissipated, leaving him just as congested as when he started.   He reached for the pot of tea and opened the lid, allowing its lavender steam to mingle with that of the shower. 

We all knew Greg was clever!

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

 He blew his nose several times, trying to clear out as much congestion as possible, while he could.  He made a face at the congested mess he was.  His ears unblocked as he sneezed harshly again.

Huh’HRRDDSHHOOOO!

 “Good heavens, Gregory!  God bless you!”  Came the voice of Mycroft from outside the shower.

“Thags, love.  You’re home early,” Greg said stuffily.  He sniffled damply and rubbed his nose with the flannel.  He wondered how long Mycroft had been standing there listening to him sniffle and sneeze.  Another quickly replaced that thought; Mycroft wouldn’t have waited to offer a blessing, therefore he had just arrived home.  Christ, he was starting to think like his partner.  Or Sherlock.  He shuddered and shook his head as if to clear it.

Though Greg couldn’t see, Mycroft rolled his eyes.  “I thought I would check and see how you were feeling, my dear."

I imagine Greg was also thinking, "Just go away!" Nope, he's not going to go away. He's going to take care of you and make you like it.

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

Mycroft was there instantly, putting his robe around him, and pulling him close.  “God bless you yet again, my dear.”

“Not done,” Greg gasped out, before he sneezed again.

Huh’RUHSHHOOOO!

“God bless,” Mycroft murmured softly and somehow managed to produce his handkerchief, which he pressed into Greg’s hand, while removing the sodden flannel and tossing it in the bin.

I can so see Mycroft taking the flannel between his thumb and index finger and flicking it perfectly in the bin. LOL! 

On February 28, 2016 at 7:41 AM, cally said:

 “You’re welcome,” Mycroft said.  “Is there anything you need?  Perhaps now would be a good time to take a decongestant?”  He spoke hesitantly, not wanting to come across as overbearing, but it was difficult given the state he found his partner in currently.

 Greg sniffled in response.  He knew Mycroft was right, and he wasn’t being demanding, like he sometimes got when concerned.  He knew he needed to give in; if for any reason so he could breathe so he could finally get some much needed rest.  He nodded his head against Mycroft’s shoulder.

Compromising! The basis of all good relationships: "Ok, you're being reasonable so I'll try to be reasonable too." Poor Greg resting his head on Mycroft's shoulder, that just makes me...all gooey. 

 

[cally]

On 29 February 2016 at 3:16 AM, AngelEyes said:

wwwww! I love this! Poor miserable Gregory. I love all his deliberate preparations. LOL. 

Poor, miserable Greg.   Everything he had to go through just to breathe.  Poor lamb.

 

On 29 February 2016 at 4:44 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

What a wonderful drabble it is, all focused on Greg, poor baby. (Now it is your turn to dare me to do something.)

Thank you.  I'll have to think about that and get back to you.

On 29 February 2016 at 4:44 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

I imagine Greg was also thinking, "Just go away!" Nope, he's not going to go away. He's going to take care of you and make you like it.

Yes, pretty much this.  

 

47.  ice cream

Mycroft hated official dinners, even ones as informal as this one.  He was glad it was not an elaborate state function.  He supressed a shudder at the thought of the last such occurrence. 

However, the informality allowed for him to bring Greg, for which he was truly grateful.  Greg looked delicious in his newly purchased bespoke suit.  It was dark blue, with just the hint of shimmer in it.  A pristine white shirt and royal purple tie complemented the entire ensemble. 

The courses seemed to go on for an indeterminate amount of time.   They made quiet conversation with those around them.  Mycroft was ever amazed at Greg’s ability to mix and blend in with any group of people.  He couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face as he watched his lover chat with the cabinet minister beside him.

By the time dessert was served, Mycroft was tired of the small talk and trivialities and was thrilled that those that had been sharing their table had already excused themselves.  Greg tried to brighten his spirits and began a quiet running commentary of everything he was observing, but it was hard when there were servers milling about serving dessert.

While normally Mycroft did not allow himself to break his diet, the ice cream looked so delicious and inviting that he relented.  He took a spoonful of the icy treat and savoured it.  The creaminess was exquisite and the bergamot lingered on his palate.  But there was something else, Mycroft thought.  It took a moment for him to realise what he was tasing.  The ice cream was not just Earl Grey flavoured, it was lavender Earl Grey flavoured.

“My dear, you may want to reconsider,” he began, reaching his hand out toward his lover, but Greg had already taken a mouthful.

Greg too was savouring his dessert.  He gave Mycroft an odd look at his remark, but after a few seconds he realised why Mycroft had said such a thing.  He felt his nostrils twitch slightly from the lavender.  Still, the dessert was delicious, so he shrugged and took another mouthful.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he ate his own ice cream.  He also couldn’t deny that the dish was absolutely fantastic.  They both polished off the treat quickly and Mycroft wondered how much his lover would have to suffer as a result.

Greg sniffed and rubbed his nose.  Mycroft studied him; he knew they should make their exit.  And as he thought so, Greg snatched up his napkin and muffled a heady sneeze into it.

Huh’hrahhhshhhfff!      

“God bless you,” Mycroft said quietly. 

“Thank you,” Greg murmured.  He rubbed his nose with the napkin, trying to avoid a repeat performance.  He sniffed softly.

“We should take our leave,” Mycroft said.  Greg nodded.  The two got to their feet.  Mycroft quickly paid his respects to the host, and the two of them headed to the car.

Greg was doing an admirable job of keeping from sneezing, Mycroft thought.  Once they got outside into the cooler air, Greg stopped short and sneezed viciously.

Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

“God bless you, my dear,” Mycroft said, handing over his handkerchief.

“Thanks,” Greg said, sniffling, as they got into the car.

“Are you alright?” Mycroft asked. 

Greg rubbed absently at his nose and nodded.  “It’s not that bad, not as if I breathed it in.”  As he spoke, he could feel the irritation building in his nostrils again.  He turned away from Mycroft, sneezing forcefully.

Heh . . . .Huh’etcssSHHhhoo!  Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh! 

“Goodness! God bless you again!”  Mycroft reached over and squeezed Greg’s knee in a comforting gesture.

“Thanks, love,” Greg said, blowing his nose gently.   He looked over at Mycroft, who was studying him intently.  It took him a moment to figure out what his lover was thinking about.

Greg sniffled.  “It was worth it,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Mycroft asked.

“The ice cream.  It was hehhh-worth it.”  Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!  HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

 “God bless,” Mycroft began, but Greg’s next sneeze was loud and powerful and Mycroft’s words were lost in it. 

 Huh……..HuhADSHHHHhhooo!  

“Christ, sorry,” Greg mumbled.  He was glad he hadn’t relinquished hold of the handkerchief, as that sneeze had been rather damp, and he cringed in embarrassment.

“God bless you, Gregory!”  Mycroft exclaimed. 

“Thanks, Myc.”  Greg looked over at him.  He thought Mycroft looked worried.

Greg chuckled.  “I’m fine, love.  It’s just a couple of sneezes,” he said, and as he spoke his breath hitched again, as if the word itself set him off. Greg’s breath went ragged a moment and he quickly buried his nose back down into the handkerchief.

Heh . . . . . ..heh . . . . .Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

 “And again, my dear.” 

Greg nodded his thanks as he blew his nose.  He was fairly certain that he’d rendered the cloth useless after that last sneeze.  Luckily, Mycroft had fully kitted him out for this dinner, and that included a silk handkerchief that matched his tie.  He shoved the borrowed one into his jacket and fumbled about in his trouser pocket for his own. 

Greg rubbed his nose with the silk cloth.  In all honesty, he felt it was far too extravagant.  But Mycroft did like nice things, which had been evident from the first gifts he had ever received from the younger man.  He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised they had arrived back home. 

“Shall we, Gregory?”

Greg nodded and they got out of the car.   He sniffled in the chilly air.  His nose, still irritated, immediately began to drip.  Making a face, he pressed the silk cloth to his nostrils. 

HuhRRRSSCHH!

“God bless you, dearest,” Mycroft had come up beside him and put his hand on his back and began to guide him inside.  “I think a cup of tea and an antihistamine for you,” he added, unlocking the door.

Greg rolled his eyes.  “I said I was ok, Mycroft.”  They made their way inside, shedding coats and umbrella.

Mycroft turned to look at him.  He thought that Greg was exasperated, from the tone of his voice.  He was only partially surprised when Greg turned his head and sneezed harshly instead.

Huh’hrahhhshhhh! 

 Mycroft chuckled.  “God bless you again!”

 “Thanks,” Greg said with a faint sniffle.

 “You’re welcome.  I shall go and get the tea sorted.”  Mycroft made no mention of the antihistamine, but he planned to fetch one just in case Greg changed his mind.

 When Mycroft returned about ten minutes later, he found Greg sat with a pile of tissues that he had amassed, his nostrils pink and tender looking.  His tie was loose around his collar.  The minor government official opened his mouth to speak, but quickly decided against it.  He would rather not end a lovely evening on a sour note by antagonizing his lover and having an argument. 

 Mycroft poured out the tea and sat back on the couch, making himself comfortable.  Greg did the same, with a slightly congested sigh. 

“Was a nice evening, though,” Greg said.  “You always say that these events are terrible.  This one wasn’t so bad,” he grinned.

Mycroft returned the smile.  “No, it was not.  Your presence may have had something to do with it being tolerable.”

Greg laughed in response and took a sip of his tea.  Mycroft did the same, giving his lover a fond look.  He was glad he did, as he saw the hazy, sneezy look cross his partner’s face again.  He quickly took Greg’s teacup from him before Greg gasped out a loud, damp-sounding sneeze.

Heh’DZSCHOOOOO! 

Mycroft startled despite knowing Greg was about to sneeze.  “God bless you, Gregory.”  He handed over a handful of tissues.

“Thanks, love.”  He blew his nose, adding to the pile of tissues. 

Mycroft rubbed Greg’s thigh.  “And again, you are welcome.”

Greg stretched out his legs and kicked off his shoes.  He rubbed his foot along Mycroft’s leg, hoping to distract his lover.  He heard Mycroft actually giggle and knew his mission was accomplished.  The rest of the tea was subsequently abandoned.

 

[AngelEyes]

5 hours ago, cally said:

Greg looked delicious in his newly purchased bespoke suit.  It was dark blue, with just the hint of shimmer in it.  A pristine white shirt and royal purple tie complemented the entire ensemble. 

Delicious indeed!

5 hours ago, cally said:

Greg was doing an admirable job of keeping from sneezing, Mycroft thought.  Once they got outside into the cooler air, Greg stopped short and sneezed viciously.

Not sure why, but I like this. The thought of him concentrating on keeping it together as they leave, and then immediately letting go. Also your word choice, admirable job, I like it.

5 hours ago, cally said:

Greg sniffled.  “It was worth it,” he said.

LOL

5 hours ago, cally said:

Greg stretched out his legs and kicked off his shoes.  He rubbed his foot along Mycroft’s leg, hoping to distract his lover.  He heard Mycroft actually giggle and knew his mission was accomplished.  The rest of the tea was subsequently abandoned.

Oh Greg.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

This was as delicious as the ice cream you describe. 

13 hours ago, cally said:

The ice cream was not just Earl Grey flavoured, it was lavender Earl Grey flavoured.

“My dear, you may want to reconsider,” he began, reaching his hand out toward his lover, but Greg had already taken a mouthful.

Greg too was savouring his dessert.  He gave Mycroft an odd look at his remark, but after a few seconds he realised why Mycroft had said such a thing.  He felt his nostrils twitch slightly from the lavender.  Still, the dessert was delicious, so he shrugged and took another mouthful.

LOL! Greg would certainly eat anything, even lavender Earl Grey ice cream.

Quote

“It’s not that bad, not as if I breathed it in.”  As he spoke, he could feel the irritation building in his nostrils again.  He turned away from Mycroft, sneezing forcefully.

 

Ha! You think? 

Quote

It took him a moment to figure out what his lover was thinking about.

Greg sniffled.  “It was worth it,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Mycroft asked.

“The ice cream.  It was hehhh-worth it.”  Huh…heh’DZSCHOOOOO!  HRDSCHHhhhhuh!  

Yes, yes it was totally worth it from my perspective. 

Quote

Greg rolled his eyes.  “I said I was ok, Mycroft.”  They made their way inside, shedding coats and umbrella.

Mycroft turned to look at him.  He thought that Greg was exasperated, from the tone of his voice.  He was only partially surprised when Greg turned his head and sneezed harshly instead.

Huh’hrahhhshhhh! 

 

Oh Greg you may have to explain your version of okay to Mycroft again. 

Quote

The minor government official opened his mouth to speak, but quickly decided against it.  He would rather not end a lovely evening on a sour note by antagonizing his lover and having an argument. 

Excellent Mycroft is learning. Cat's out of the bag (so to speak). No point fussing about it now.

 

Quote

Greg stretched out his legs and kicked off his shoes.  He rubbed his foot along Mycroft’s leg, hoping to distract his lover.  He heard Mycroft actually giggle and knew his mission was accomplished.  The rest of the tea was subsequently abandoned.

 

 

This was so FLUFFY!! I just want to squeeze it. 

[matilda3948]

I will never tire of sneezy Lestrade. Ever.    

[cally]

On 1 March 2016 at 4:04 AM, AngelEyes said:

Not sure why, but I like this. The thought of him concentrating on keeping it together as they leave, and then immediately letting go. Also your word choice, admirable job, I like it.

Why thank you!

On 1 March 2016 at 11:57 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Oh Greg you may have to explain your version of okay to Mycroft again. 

If he's not in dire need of hospital/surgery/medical attention, he is ok.  

On 3 March 2016 at 9:38 PM, matilda3948 said:

I will never tire of sneezy Lestrade. Ever.    

  Neither will I.  

It's taken me seemingly a zillion years to finish this one.  Between household drama and my thesis, there just isn't much time left for fun.

 

48.  Spring Cleaning

 

Greg rarely had the time or the opportunity to do any real cleaning.  It wasn’t as if he missed the backbreaking labour, but now that he lived with Mycroft, it was all done for them; people who seemingly came in the night and cleared away any spec of dust or a crumb that was left astray.  So when he actually had some time on a bright, mild Sunday and with Mycroft not anywhere to be found, Greg got to it.

He opened all the windows in the bedroom allowing the very early spring air to blow in.  Strangely satisfied, he watched the curtains billow in the breeze before he headed over to the bureau and removed all of his clothing from the drawers.  He then began to sort through long since mismatched socks and ancient, threadbare vests.  He soon had a small pile for both the bin and for donation.  He folded and put the remaining clothes away and headed for the closet, humming along to the music coming from the small stereo system that he had hooked his mobile up to.

When Mycroft returned later that afternoon, he was drained.  He had been called in again in the early hours of the morning to deal with a crisis.  While he was used to existing on less sleep than average, this was not the first time this week he had been woken in the middle of the night and thus he was feeling the effects.  Middle age comes to us all, he thought, as he made his way up the stairs.  He sniffed, the bridge of his long nose wrinkling, as he noticed the air was increasingly cooler and fresher as he ascended.  And while it was very early spring, Mycroft found that he seemed to be feeling the effects of the season earlier and earlier as he got older.  Middle age indeed.

When he entered their bedroom, he immediately saw the piles of clothing on the bed, but he did not see his beloved, as he was standing in his walk-in closet, presumably inspecting his wardrobe.  Mycroft felt his nasal passages prickle and he hastily and silently stifled a sneeze, not wanting the attention to be focused on him, not when it was apparent Greg was enjoying himself.  Though, how anyone could derive enjoyment from cleaning, he would never quite know.

“Good afternoon, Gregory,” Mycroft said.

Greg popped his head out of the closet doorway.  Mycroft could see that his hair was standing on end in places, as if he had been running his hands through it.  “Hi, love,” Greg replied, before ducking back into the closet.

A moment later, he emerged, frowning.  He took a better look at Mycroft this time.  He was right, his lover looked exhausted.  “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

Mycroft nodded, but he knew there was little he could do to hide the dark circles under his eyes or the tired, weary pallor of his skin.  He sat down on the end of the bed.

Greg ran a hand through his hair.  “Let me get this stuff out of the way,” he said, grabbing first the toss pile and putting it by the bin, and then grabbed the remaining clothing and set it on top of his bureau.  He turned off the music and put his mobile on his bedside table.

Mycroft watched Greg’s movements, while simultaneously trying to ignore the irritation building within his sinuses.  He gave a faint sniff in hopes to ward off the tickle that seemed to be increasing by the second.

As Greg sat down on the end of the bed next to him, Mycroft quickly turned away, ducking his head down.

Mmmmmpfx!  Mmmpfch! 

“Oh bless you, love!” Greg exclaimed.  He frowned, taking in Mycroft’s appearance up close.  And then it occurred to him.  “Christ, the windows!” He jumped up and quickly closed the windows that he had opened earlier. 

By the time Greg returned to Mycroft, the younger man had managed to extricate his handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers.  His breath hitched briefly before he let a steady stream of sneezes out, his body shuddering with the effort of stifling the expulsions. 

Mmmpfch! Mmmpftish! Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfx’gkt!  Mmmpfx’ish! Heh . . .heh….

The sixth teased Mycroft for a moment before he finally gasped out a heaving breath and an explosive sneeze.

Heh’TISSSHHoooo! 

“God bless you again,” Greg said quietly.  He reached out and squeezed Mycroft’s suit-clad thigh.

“Thank you.  My apologies,” Mycroft murmured from behind his handkerchief.  He blew his nose carefully and then folded up the damp cloth, its usefulness long since passed.  He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward.  The long days had thoroughly worn him out.

Greg fretted and then slipped down to the floor on to his knees and began to untie Mycroft’s Oxfords.  Once he was done, he put them to the side and rose to his feet, his knees cracking.  He chuckled at the sound.

Mycroft lifted his head and gave Greg a faint smile, but the older man could see the exhaustion and strain present.  “Do you need to go back to work?”

Mycroft shook his head.  “Thankfully, no.”

“Alright then, let’s get you out of that suit and into bed.”

“Gregory, it is barely 5 o’clock!”

Greg rolled his eyes.  “I’m not saying you have to sleep.  Just rest with me for an hour or so.”  He gave Mycroft his best sad-eyed puppy look, which usually allowed him to get his way with the elder Holmes.  He wasn’t beyond begging either; he could clearly see Mycroft needed sleep.  And if he had to lay down as well, so be it.

Mycroft sighed.  “Very heh-well,” he said, his breath skipping.

Mmmpfx!  Mmmmmpfch! Hng’ISSH! Ahhhh…..heh’TISHoooooo!

“Bless you,” Greg said.  He grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand and placed them next to Mycroft. 

Mycroft nodded gratefully, grabbing a handful and tending to his nose.  “Apologies,” he mumbled unnecessarily. 

Once he was done, Greg began to loosen his tie.  Mycroft playfully swiped at Greg’s hands, but Greg was persistent.  Somehow, between the two of them, they got Mycroft out of his suit and under the duvet.  Greg put the braces, tie, and cufflinks in their proper places, and the suit into the bag for the dry cleaner.  He then quickly shucked his own clothing and slipped into bed next to Mycroft, pulling the younger man close.   

He couldn’t do anything about the long hours at work or the pollen, but he could try to make it all bearable for his partner.  He smiled into Mycroft’s hair as he felt his lover relax and give himself over for some much needed rest.

 

 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Aww... too cute. I love the idea of the two of them fighting with each other trying to get Mycroft undressed. 

[AngelEyes]

This is wonderful! You painted such a vivid picture! I can totally picture Greg getting into the groove with the fresh air, music, focused on organizing. 

On March 27, 2016 at 2:17 PM, cally said:

Greg popped his head out of the closet doorway.  Mycroft could see that his hair was standing on end in places, as if he had been running his hands through it.

I love this image! Tousled!Greg is adorable!

And you described Mycroft so well too. I can totally picture him just utterly worn out. 

On March 27, 2016 at 2:17 PM, cally said:

Middle age comes to us all, he thought, as he made his way up the stairs. 

I love this line. I can totally see Mycroft thinking it. His sort of ironic/self deprecating sense of humor. I'm not sure those were the right words, but you know what I mean.

On March 27, 2016 at 2:17 PM, cally said:

He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward.  The long days had thoroughly worn him out.

Sad. I want to hug him!

On March 27, 2016 at 2:17 PM, cally said:

He gave Mycroft his best sad-eyed puppy look, which usually allowed him to get his way with the elder Holmes.  He wasn’t beyond begging either; he could clearly see Mycroft needed sleep.  And if he had to lay down as well, so be it.

Puppy eyes! My favorite!

On March 27, 2016 at 2:17 PM, cally said:

He couldn’t do anything about the long hours at work or the pollen, but he could try to make it all bearable for his partner.  He smiled into Mycroft’s hair as he felt his lover relax and give himself over for some much needed rest.

Awwwww!!!

[cally]

On 28 March 2016 at 0:59 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

 

Aww... too cute. I love the idea of the two of them fighting with each other trying to get Mycroft undressed.

 

Lots of tickling would ensue, I would imagine.

On 29 March 2016 at 3:49 AM, AngelEyes said:

I love this line. I can totally see Mycroft thinking it. His sort of ironic/self deprecating sense of humor. I'm not sure those were the right words, but you know what I mean.

Yes, that's exactly what I was getting at. 

 

It's taken me forever to finish this one.  Obviously the thesis takes precedence over all right now, but. . .  idk. . . 

 

49.   Mini-break

Greg had observed how worn down Mycroft had become.  Work had completely taken over his life; he was in his office longer and longer each day, often being called in the early hours of the morning. 

It took several sneaky phone calls and probably hundreds of texts between him and Anthea to arrange a weekend away for them both.  Greg wanted somewhere warm, but he had to concede to Scotland, where Mycroft could easily jump on a plane and be back in London within the hour.

Greg liked the Scotland house.  It was small and cozy.  And he was happy to go there, but he really could have done with some sunshine.  He also wanted to keep the trip as much of a surprise as he could, but given Mycroft’s position it was impossible.  He was very glad that Mycroft was amenable in the end, and that was when Greg realised that even Mycroft had a breaking point.

The night before they were scheduled to leave, Greg was up all night on a case.  Luckily, he was able to solve it before they departed, and as a result the DI slept most of the way to Scotland.

Mycroft, while he enjoyed Greg’s company, was glad that his partner needed the rest.  There was work that he needed to attend to, and he knew he wouldn’t be a congenial traveling partner because of it.

They were about thirty minutes out when Greg stirred a bit.  Mycroft stilled as much as possible to keep his lover from waking.  He stopped turning pages until Greg settled back down.  Smiling fondly at Greg for a moment, Mycroft then returned to his reading.  He sniffed faintly, pausing to rub at his nose for a second. 

Mycroft resumed his reading, doing his best to ignore the incipient irritation.  He sniffled, more harshly this time, and then quickly had to tightly pinch his nostrils, to stifle the sneeze that hastily escaped.

Hhnnchx!

Greg stirred again, eyelashes fluttering.  He slowly ran a hand across his face as he woke.

Mycroft sniffed again and then turned away toward the window, gasping out several ticklish sneezes.

Mmmmpfx’gkt!  Mmmpfx!  Mmmmmpfch! Mmmpftish!

Greg sat up fully from his reclined position in the car.  “Mmmmm, bless,” Greg mumbled sleepily.  He cleared his throat a few times.

Mycroft handed him a bottle of chilled water, but then turned away quickly, his breath hitching erratically.  “Tha-ahhh-nk you,” Mycroft tried to say but his voice quickly trailed off into the next set of sneezes.

Heh-hhhhtish! Ish! Tish! Heh’TISSSHH!

“Bless you,” Greg said.  He reached over into his bag and pulled out a packet of tissues, removed and handed a few over Mycroft. 

“Thank you, Gregory.  Apologies,” Mycroft murmured, tending to his nose. 

Greg yawned and stretched and then downed the remainder of his water.  His mouth was dry from sleep and the long drive. 

“How long till we arrive?”  Greg yawned again. 

Mycroft looked at his watch.  “About twenty minutes or so.

Greg squirmed a bit, and wished that he had not guzzled the water so quickly.  Mycroft raised an eyebrow and attempted to cover up a smirk with a sniff.

The remainder of the drive passed quickly.  Greg was grateful, and he all but sprinted to the house the second the car stopped.  Mycroft chuckled as he gathered up his briefcase and exited the car. 

As he walked up the path, he noticed it was covered with a fine layer of pollen-coated catkins.  Mycroft sniffled and rubbed at his nose automatically.  He could tell from the ground that it had not rained in several days, and the forecast indicated no rain for the following two days.  He hoped that Gregory would keep the windows closed; he had taken to cracking them in the middle of the night.

As Mycroft made his way inside, he could feel his sinuses tingling.  He shut the door behind him, put his briefcase down, before quickly ducking his head down into his elbow.

Heh’mmmpfx! Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfx’gkt!  Mmmpfx’ish!

“Bless you, love,” Greg said, as he came around the corner, looking obviously relieved. 

Blushing slightly, Mycroft straightened, sniffling as he did.  He suddenly felt exhausted.  “Thank you,” he said tiredly, searching his pockets, but came up empty. 

Greg looked bemused.  “C’mon, love,” he yawned.  “Let’s go to bed.”

 

 

Mycroft woke automatically before sunrise.  Even on “vacation” he had difficulties deviating from routine.  He shivered; Greg must have cracked a window while he slept and he instinctively moved towards the warmth of his lover.  He slipped an arm around Greg’s hip and tried to settle back to sleep.

He had nearly drifted back off when a pair of sneezes startled him to full wakefulness.  He was not able to turn away quickly enough, and he did his best to hold them back.

Heh-hhhhtish! Ish!

Mycroft quickly sat up and reached for the tissues on the bedside table.

Heh’Mmmpftish!  Tisssssh! Tissssssh!  Tish! Heh’Mmpftishoooo! Ishoooo!

“Bless,” Greg croaked out.  He rolled over so he could face Mycroft, softly clearing his throat.

Mycroft nodded briefly before ducking down back into the handful of damp tissues he was still clutching.  The sneezes came instantly with barely a breath in between.

Hhnnchx! Heh’mmmpfx! Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfx’gkt!  Mmmpfx’ish! Ish!

“Oh, bless you love,” Greg said quietly.  He reached over and grabbed the tissue box so that it was closer to Mycroft.

Mycroft didn’t move, so Greg pulled out a handful and offered them over.  The younger man balled up the sodden tissues and accepted the dry ones, quickly pressing them to his nostrils.  He gave a breathy inhale, but nothing came of it.

Mycroft softly blew his nose.  “Thank you, Gregory.  I am terribly sorry for waking you.”  He sniffed and rubbed absently at his eye.

“S’alright,” Greg yawned.  “Wha’ time is it anyways?”

Mycroft checked his mobile on the bedside table.  “Shortly before 6,” he replied, ducking behind his wrist as he yawned.  He rubbed his nose with the tissues he was still holding. 

“Good.  We can go back to sleep then,” Greg said, reaching for Mycroft. 

Mycroft evaded his hand.  “Just give me a moment.”  He rose from the bed and headed down the hallway.

Greg yawned again and made himself comfortable while he waited for his lover to return.  He had nearly dozed off when Mycroft returned, having stopped to close the window.  Mycroft slipped into bed, and Greg immediately reached for him, pulling him close.  Sniffling softly, he pinched his nose, willing himself not to sneeze again. 

Greg didn’t notice Mycroft’s irritation; he had fallen back to sleep, his breathing evening out.  It took a few moments, but finally the persistent tickle abated. Mycroft, his head on Greg’s chest, listened to his heartbeat until he too was asleep again.

 

 

When Greg woke again, the sun was filtering through the curtains, and he was alone in bed.  He could smell coffee and he smiled, stretching his arms overhead.  He scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed back the duvet.  He got to his feet and padded off to the bathroom, and then moments later followed the scent of coffee.

Greg found Mycroft in the kitchen.  He was standing at the window, wrapped in his dressing gown, a mug of coffee in his hand.  Greg smiled fondly at his partner, who was seemingly lost in thought, although Greg could tell he had registered his presence. 

“Morning,” Greg said, pouring out a mug of coffee for himself.  He opened the fridge and found fresh cream. While normally he took his coffee black, there was something about the richness of cream that he occasionally enjoyed.  He was touched by Mycroft’s thoughtfulness in having it there for him. 

“Good morning,” Mycroft said, turning around to face Greg.  “Did you sleep well?” 

Greg noticed that Mycroft sounded congested and he frowned.  “Yeah, I did.  You?”

Mycroft nodded as he took a sip from his mug.  “It is very peaceful here,” he said quietly, almost as an afterthought.

Greg drank some coffee, enjoying the rich roast combined with the thick cream.  He then put the mug down and crossed the short distance over to where Mycroft was standing.  He took Mycroft’s mug from him and put it down on the windowsill.  Greg then caressed Mycroft’s face gently and brought the younger man into a tender kiss. 

Greg instinctively deepened the kiss, pulling Mycroft closer.   As the embrace continued, their noses gently brushed together.  Seconds later, Mycroft pulled away, instinctively cupping his hands around his nose.

huh ING’SHHHHH!  Tish! Heh‘Tish!  Heh’INGHtighsh! Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

Mycroft desperately tried to stifle the final sneeze and failed.  He felt Greg move away for a moment, but he soon returned to his side, pressing a handful of tissues into his hand.

“Bless you,” Greg said quietly.

“Thank you.  My apologies,” Mycroft said, as he tended to his nose.

Greg had also fetched his coffee and drank some more while he waited for Mycroft to pull himself together. 

Mycroft turned toward him and Greg could see that his eyes were red and irritated looking.   Greg worried his lower lip.

“Is this because of the open window?” Greg asked.  He didn’t quite meet Mycroft’s eyes.

Mycroft chuckled ruefully.  “Indirectly.  In your haste to go inside when we arrived, you may not have noticed the catkins.”

“Catkins?”  Greg looked around confused, as if he expected a cat to wander in and curl itself around his legs.

Mycroft smiled.  “The pollen filled catkins of the birch variety.  They precede the subsequent budding and greenery.”  Mycroft sniffed and rubbed at his nose for a moment. “I had forgotten that the property is abutted by a grove of these trees,” he added, almost as an afterthought.  The very thought of the trees caused his nose to prickle, and he pressed the tissues to his now irritated nostrils, as the sneezes tumbled out quickly.

Hehhhh…….Mmpfx!  Mmmphx! Mmmpftish! Heh’tish! Mmmmmpfch! Mmmpfx’ish! Tish! Huh’Ishoooo!

“Christ, love.  Bless you!”  Greg grabbed another handful of tissues and offered them over once again. 

“Thank you,” Mycroft said stuffily.  He sighed, his shoulders slumping forward.

Greg moved closer and put his arm around Mycroft, leading him over to the kitchen table.  “Be back in a second, love,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on top of Mycroft’s head.

He returned with one of Mycroft’s softer handkerchiefs, an antihistamine, and then a moment later, Mycroft’s now refreshed mug of coffee.  He refreshed his own, and sat down next to his lover, facing the large windows overlooking the property.

Mycroft swallowed down the pill and then blew his nose again, relishing the soft cloth over the rougher tissues.  After a moment he had composed himself, and he reached out for Greg’s hand.  “Thank you,” he said.

Greg half shrugged; it wasn’t a new occurrence in their lives.  “Don’t worry about it, love.”  They sat quietly for a few minutes.

“Are you hungry?  I could make something for us,” Greg suggested.

Mycroft appeared to be deep in thought for a moment.  “Would you mind if we just sat here like this for a while longer?”  He hoped that the silence would help still his mind.

Greg nodded.  “Of course not.”

Mycroft seemed to instantly relax, as if he had been holding his breath, although Greg hadn’t been aware of any lingering tension.  He wondered what else he had missed.  He knew that Mycroft had been working terribly hard as of late; that was what had prompted this getaway.

Greg smiled and squeezed his hand.  Whatever Mycroft needed.  If he needed to sit and gaze out at the early spring day, then that is what they would do. 

 

 

 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

This is so sweet and lovely. It is just chock full of those little moments that solidify their relationship in my mind. So to quote (quite) a few...

6 hours ago, cally said:

Greg squirmed a bit, and wished that he had not guzzled the water so quickly.  Mycroft raised an eyebrow and attempted to cover up a smirk with a sniff.

Teehee! 

6 hours ago, cally said:

Heh’mmmpfx! Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfx’gkt!  Mmmpfx’ish!

“Bless you, love,” Greg said, as he came around the corner, looking obviously relieved. 

Blushing slightly, Mycroft straightened, sniffling as he did.  He suddenly felt exhausted.  “Thank you,” he said tiredly, searching his pockets, but came up empty. 

Greg looked bemused.  “C’mon, love,” he yawned.  “Let’s go to bed.”

We all know what he was looking for, don't we.  

6 hours ago, cally said:

“Oh, bless you love,” Greg said quietly.  He reached over and grabbed the tissue box so that it was closer to Mycroft.

Mycroft didn’t move, so Greg pulled out a handful and offered them over.  The younger man balled up the sodden tissues and accepted the dry ones, quickly pressing them to his nostrils.

Oh, Muhammed and mountains!  

6 hours ago, cally said:

He opened the fridge and found fresh cream. While normally he took his coffee black, there was something about the richness of cream that he occasionally enjoyed.  He was touched by Mycroft’s thoughtfulness in having it there for him. 

Aww! 

6 hours ago, cally said:

“Is this because of the open window?” Greg asked.  He didn’t quite meet Mycroft’s eyes.

Mycroft chuckled ruefully.  “Indirectly.  In your haste to go inside when we arrived, you may not have noticed the catkins.”

“Catkins?”  Greg looked around confused, as if he expected a cat to wander in and curl itself around his legs.

Yup, this is because of the open window and CAT-kins. But don't worry Greg there aren't really any cats. 

 

6 hours ago, cally said:

“Be back in a second, love,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on top of Mycroft’s head.

He returned with one of Mycroft’s softer handkerchiefs, an antihistamine, and then a moment later, Mycroft’s now refreshed mug of coffee.  He refreshed his own, and sat down next to his lover, facing the large windows overlooking the property.

Mycroft swallowed down the pill and then blew his nose again, relishing the soft cloth over the rougher tissues.  After a moment he had composed himself, and he reached out for Greg’s hand.  “Thank you,” he said.

Greg half shrugged; it wasn’t a new occurrence in their lives.  “Don’t worry about it, love.”

  He knows just what his darling needs. 

6 hours ago, cally said:

Greg smiled and squeezed his hand.  Whatever Mycroft needed.  If he needed to sit and gaze out at the early spring day, then that is what they would do. 

Double Aww!! 

This was wonderfully written. I know you worked really hard on this and it shows. I enjoyed every moment of it. 

[AngelEyes]

This is lovely and beautiful. It has a very peaceful yet somber tone to it.

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

He was very glad that Mycroft was amenable in the end, and that was when Greg realised that even Mycroft had a breaking point.

My heart!

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

He hoped that Gregory would keep the windows closed; he had taken to cracking them in the middle of the night.

You know Mycroft, you could just ask....

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

Mycroft, his head on Greg’s chest, listened to his heartbeat until he too was asleep again.

 

 

 

 

Awwwww!!!!!

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

Mycroft nodded as he took a sip from his mug.  “It is very peaceful here,” he said quietly, almost as an afterthought.

 

 

 

What's going on in that head of yours? I think he needs a hug.

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

“Catkins?”  Greg looked around confused, as if he expected a cat to wander in and curl itself around his legs.

LOL!

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

Mycroft appeared to be deep in thought for a moment.  “Would you mind if we just sat here like this for a while longer?”  He hoped that the silence would help still his mind.

 

Relax and let Greg take care of you.

On April 17, 2016 at 3:19 PM, cally said:

Greg smiled and squeezed his hand.  Whatever Mycroft needed.  If he needed to sit and gaze out at the early spring day, then that is what they would do. 

This is just perfect and beautiful. Yes.

[cally]

On 18 April 2016 at 4:11 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said:

Yup, this is because of the open window and CAT-kins. But don't worry Greg there aren't really any cats. 

Well, to be honest, it's not a word you come into contact with every day.  So, I give Greg a pass.  For now.

15 hours ago, AngelEyes said:

This is lovely and beautiful. It has a very peaceful yet somber tone to it.

On 17 April 2016 at 9:19 PM, cally said:

Thank you.  I think I was feeling somber while writing it, for various reasons.

 

50.  walk

Mycroft decided that with the traffic, it would be quicker to walk back from his meeting.  He was set to be meeting Greg for lunch, and he did like to be prompt. It was a bright, sunny day and he had not come up for air, so to speak, in what felt like days.  Leaving his umbrella with his driver, he traversed the short distance.

A short walkway led the way and a neatly trimmed lawn abutted it.  A newly, neatly trimmed lawn, Mycroft noted.  He could indeed smell the freshly cut grass.  Instinctively, he sniffed and immediately regretted it.  The irritating sensation that spread through his sinuses was almost instantaneous.  He picked up his pace and hastily hurried back toward the confines of his office, barely attempting to take in any additional breaths.

When he reached the sanctuary of his office, he sniffed again, finding his nose had begun to drip.  He quickly reached for his handkerchief and gave a gentle blow.

He was hopeful for a moment that he would be left relatively unscathed.  And then his nostrils and sinuses began to prickle alarmingly and the tickle built rapidly.  He buried his nose within the silken cloth, prepared for the inevitable onslaught. 

Heh…… Hhnnchx!  Mmmpfx!  Mmmmmpfch!  Hng’mmpftish! Hng’ISSH! Heh’tish!

After a steady stream of mostly stifled sneezes made their way out, there was a knock at the door.  He was unable to speak, what with his breath hitching wildly again.  As he surrendered afresh, Greg popped his head around the door and frowned when he saw the state of his beloved and hurried over to his side.

Heh…… heh . . . . . . . .Mmmmmpfch!  Heh’tish! Mmmpfx’ish! Ish! Tish!

“Jesus, bless you love!”

Mycroft nodded before succumbing again as four forceful sneezes overtook him, leaving him unable to hold them back as he was normally accustomed.

Heh…heh’ETCHOO! Huh’Ishoooo!  Heh’TSSSCHH! Hng’ISSH-OOO!

“God bless you!” Greg sounded worried.  He began to examine his partner for any other worrying symptoms.  It was hard to tell if Mycroft was pink from embarrassment or a further allergic reaction.

“Love?  Can you breathe ok?”  By now Mycroft would have been apologizing profusely, yet he remained quiet, other than faint sniffles and hitching breaths escaping.

Mycroft took a steady, deep inhalation and nodded.

“Ok good.  Can you loosen your collar and tie?  Let me check your neck?”  Greg tried to keep the rising concern out of his voice.

Again, Mycroft nodded.  He had not yet lowered the handkerchief as of yet, but he did so now, with slightly trembling hands.

Greg assisted Mycroft in loosening his collar and tie.  He was glad to see that there were no hives, this time, just a slight flushing of the skin.  He pressed a gentle kiss to Mycroft’s forehead.  He felt Mycroft smile and relax.

Mycroft then suddenly pitched forward, sneezing viciously.  Greg caught him by the shoulders.

Heh’TSSSCHHOOO!

“Bless you,” Greg chuckled.  “If you wanted my hands on you, there are easier ways.” He winked at Mycroft cheekily. 

Mycroft rolled his eyes before turning away and ducking down behind the cloth again.

Heh’TNSGH! 

“Bless you again,” Greg said.  “I was wondering if there’d be a second one,” he mused, as he went over and retrieved Mycroft’s emergency antihistamines from his briefcase.  It certainly was rare for Mycroft to only sneeze just the once.

That earned a soft huff of laughter from Mycroft.   “Thank you, Gregory,” he sniffed, tending to his nose.  “My apologies,” he added, almost an afterthought.

Greg laughed, and it was a delight to Mycroft’s ears as always.  “Lunch in, I think,” Greg said with a smile, handing over the pill.

 

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

9 hours ago, cally said:

“Bless you again,” Greg said.  “I was wondering if there’d be a second one,” he mused, as he went over and retrieved Mycroft’s emergency antihistamines from his briefcase.  It certainly was rare for Mycroft to only sneeze just the once.

That earned a soft huff of laughter from Mycroft.

So good to see Mycroft show he has a sense of humor about all of this. 

This was really cute. I loved how Greg was giving Mycroft a complete going over. Hmm... Who wanted whose hands on whom?