Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted June 26, 2016 Author Share Posted June 26, 2016 (edited) Today is the one year anniversary of this thread! I can hardly believe it. With that in mind I want to re dedicate this thread to all the people who have read and commented throughout the year. Thank you so much for your support. I want to give a special shoutout to @cally, @AngelEyes and @Juto. They have been my most faithful commentators and frequent betas and providers of inspiration. Thank you to @Spoo for being willing to check over those stories I worried might cross a line. (Happily none did, but I'm a worry wart.) It would be really amazing if this thread hits 12K views today! Have a little anniversary Mystrade as my way of thanks. 1st Anniversary Mycroft carried in a tea tray, laden with a tea set and a bottle of whiskey, into the drawing room. Greg sat on the sofa watching the telly wrapped up in his bathrobe. A box of tissues sat nearby and his nose bore the marks of frequent use of said tissues. He looked up as Mycroft set the tray down on the coffee table, "Ta, love." Mycroft smiled and began to pour the tea adding a liberal dose of whiskey. He started to hand the tea cup to Greg, who reached out for it, but he stopped and withdrew his hand slightly. "What?" Greg asked. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Oh," said Greg as he scrambled for a tissue and turned away. "Huh'DZSCHXOO!" Greg sighed and tended to his sore nose. "Bless you, my dear." Mycroft proffered the cup again and Greg took it. "Thanks, love." Mycroft fixed himself a toddy and sat down next to his partner. "I'm sorry," Greg said as the younger man settled next to him. Mycroft shook his head slightly. "There's no need to be sorry, Gregory. If you remember our first date was spent similarly on this couch, only I was the one in need of tissues and a toddy." He gave Greg's knee a comforting pat. "Yeah, you were gorgeous in that blue robe." Mycroft huffed a laugh. "There were many more dates that followed. I suspect we will have many more anniversaries." Greg leaned against the younger man, who wrapped an arm around his ailing boyfriend and pulled him in close. "You promise?" Greg asked. Mycroft kissed Greg's silvery hair. "I promise." Edited June 26, 2016 by Seeking Clarity + Wisdom Link to comment
cally Posted June 26, 2016 Share Posted June 26, 2016 Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Happy thread anniversary! Link to comment
Coffee Chicken Barista Posted June 26, 2016 Share Posted June 26, 2016 D'Awww! So cute! Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted June 30, 2016 Share Posted June 30, 2016 On June 26, 2016 at 6:01 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Mycroft shook his head slightly. "There's no need to be sorry, Gregory. If you remember our first date was spent similarly on this couch, only I was the one in need of tissues and a toddy." He gave Greg's knee a comforting pat. "Yeah, you were gorgeous in that blue robe." Mycroft huffed a laugh. "There were many more dates that followed. I suspect we will have many more anniversaries." I Love this!!!! So true! Congrats on the anniversary! Here's to many more! Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted July 12, 2016 Author Share Posted July 12, 2016 Thank you! @cally, @AngelEyes, @Coffee Chicken Barista So glad you enjoy them. Thank you to all who read. This past weekend seemed to inspire naps. Here is some fluffy, domestic Mystrade... except it takes place in Mycroft's office. Still, it is light as a feather. Enjoy. Warm Office “Hey, sorry I’m…” Greg stopped in the doorway and stood blinking and staring at the empty chair behind Mycroft’s desk. He was supposed to have met his partner at his office over an hour ago. Greg looked around the door and smiled. Stepping into the room, he closed the door softly. Mycroft, having shed his suit coat and shoes, had sacked out on the sofa. It was evident he had planned to do some reading. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose and a folder lay on his chest. A few of the pages had spilled on the floor. Mycroft was snoring lightly, his head propped on the arm at one end of the couch and his stocking feet propped on the other arm. Greg felt his heart expand in his chest and it nearly took his breath away. Moving quietly to the sofa, he carefully removed the glasses and the folder. He picked up the pages off the floor and slid them back in the folder. Greg set the items on the table nearby. The room was warm and had an orange glow from the setting sun. Greg kneeled by Mycroft’s head and took the time to admire the younger man. The light picked out and highlighted the ginger hair Mycroft took pains to hide. Greg’s hand itched to touch the soft locks, but he didn’t want to muss it. His partner would likely be annoyed enough when he woke up. Mycroft’s complexion looked a little flushed, but Greg suspected that had more to do with the heat of the room rather than any fever. Close up he could see the myriad of freckles that dotted Mycroft’s pale skin. Greg’s life goal was to kiss every one of those freckles. He was fairly sure, in the time he had been with Mycroft, he hadn’t even kissed a quarter of them. Greg gently caressed his lover’s face feeling the change from soft skin to rough bristle of the 5 o’clock shadow that had grown in the hours since Mycroft’s morning shave. His hair may be receding but Mycroft Holmes could grow a magnificent beard. The one time they had a vacation long enough Mycroft had grown, with nary a grey hair, a thick, russet beard that put most men’s to shame. Mycroft’s breathing altered and he rolled onto his side facing Greg. His eyelids fluttered, but he did not wake. Greg grinned in anticipation. He was going to kiss Mycroft’s nose. Mycroft hated his nose. It was long and big; a family trait inherited from his maternal grandfather. It tortured him spring and autumn. Greg loved his partner’s nose. “You know what they say about men with big noses,” he had whispered in Mycroft’s ear one night early in their relationship. Greg didn’t care when Mycroft’s nose drew attention to itself. It just made Greg want to kiss his lover more as he blushed and mumbled apologies. Greg’s gaze drifted along Mycroft’s body taking in the long neck, long fingers, long legs, and long feet. He sighed quietly in appreciation and leaned in to lay a tender kiss on Mycroft’s nose, then lips, then nose. “My… My, love… My.” Greg whispered between kisses. “Mmm… “ Mycroft hummed sleepily. “Wake up, love,” Greg murmured, placing more gentle kisses on Mycroft’s wide forehead and nuzzling the soft curl. He just couldn’t help it. Mycroft’s eyes blinked open and Greg sat back, smiling. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Mycroft smiled back at Greg still drowsy and rubbed at his eyes. Greg noticed the sclera were red and a little teary making the blue irises look bright. “Gregory.” Mycroft’s voice was rough and he paused, clearing his throat. “Allergies bothering you?” Greg asked. Mycroft sat up, nodding. “Yes, I took an antihistamine earlier.” He yawned behind his hand. “Apologies.” Greg sat back on his heels, watching Mycroft pull himself together. “What time is it?” “I’m afraid to tell you.” Greg said sheepishly. Mycroft sniffed. “Hmm… Take away it is then.” He looked around the sofa. “Where is my… hih… file?” He pressed his wrist under his nose and stifled hard. “Hihhnnchx, hihhnnchx.” “On the table. Here.” Greg pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. Mycroft nodded his thanks and took the cloth pressing it to his flaring nostrils. With a grunt, Greg levered himself off the floor and onto the couch next to Mycroft. He leaned back and rested his hand on his partner’s back as Mycroft leaned forward. “Hih’tish, tish, tish, tish, …Hih’tiSH…” Greg listened to the familiar pattern of hitching breaths and ticklish sneezes and rubbed small circles on Mycroft’s back. “Bless you,” he interjected during a pause in the fit. “Hih’TISHOO! ...Heh’ETCHsh… Hieh’ETSCH! ETCSH!” Mycroft’s torso shook, as the sneezing grew more intense. Greg knew by now that usually meant the fit was coming to an end. “HehET’SHOO! …Heh’TSCH! …HihT’ISHOO!” “Bless you love.” Mycroft blew his nose. “Apologies.” He sat back and Greg noted a light blush on Mycroft’s cheeks. The older man grinned. “Have I mentioned you don’t need to apologize?” “Once or twice, yes.” Mycroft grew a little pinker. “But that is no reason to forgo my manners.” Greg chuckled and cupped Mycroft’s cheek, turning his lover’s head and pulling him in close. “You’re cute,” Greg murmured kissing the younger man. Mycroft pulled away as the kiss ended. “You are obviously on hallucinogens. Did you let Sherlock make your coffee?” He started to put his shoes back on. Greg laughed. “No, not since Baskerville.” Mycroft stood and went to his desk; he collected his jacket. “How ‘bout we pick up Thai and go back to yours?” “Fine, but only if you take one of these.” Mycroft tossed Greg a foil pack from his desk and Greg handily caught it. “We both do not need to suffer.” “Aw, your cats don’t bother me.” He pocketed the packet and rose to meet Mycroft at the door. “I believe now, you are the one being cute.” Mycroft smiled at Greg and bent his head to kiss him. FIN Link to comment
cally Posted July 12, 2016 Share Posted July 12, 2016 Awwwwww so much fluff and adorableness 8 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: “You are obviously on hallucinogens. Did you let Sherlock make your coffee?” Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted July 13, 2016 Share Posted July 13, 2016 Awww. I love the image of a sleeping Mycroft. I love all the details you put into describing Greg studying him. On July 12, 2016 at 8:07 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Mycroft hated his nose. It was long and big; a family trait inherited from his maternal grandfather. It tortured him spring and autumn. Greg loved his partner’s nose. “You know what they say about men with big noses,” he had whispered in Mycroft’s ear one night early in their relationship. Greg didn’t care when Mycroft’s nose drew attention to itself. It just made Greg want to kiss his lover more as he blushed and mumbled apologies. LOL, too adorable. On July 12, 2016 at 8:07 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: The older man grinned. “Have I mentioned you don’t need to apologize?” “Once or twice, yes.” Mycroft grew a little pinker. “But that is no reason to forgo my manners.” Oh, Mycroft. Always so proper. On July 12, 2016 at 8:07 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Mycroft pulled away as the kiss ended. “You are obviously on hallucinogens. Did you let Sherlock make your coffee?” LOL! Love this. It's so sweet and lovely, and still has just a bit of their quirky humor in it. Link to comment
Juto Posted July 17, 2016 Share Posted July 17, 2016 GAH OMG SCW THIS WAS SO SWEEEET!!! awww just the idea of sleeping Mycroft and Greg wanting to kiss his nose and forehead. Ahhh I know you're capable of writing great angst and H/C with these cuties but oh dear your fluff just melts my heart Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted July 23, 2016 Author Share Posted July 23, 2016 Hi there! Thanks @cally, @AngelEyes, @Juto! I'm glad you enjoyed the fluff and sweetness (and the HoB reference ). I had to write something that touched on Greg's appreciation of Mycroft's appearance. If you go to my profile and click on the profile picture you'll see that there is a bit more to it than what shows up in the little circle. It fits perfectly with my head cannon. So back to my Blessings. I wrote this a few months back and saved it for now. You'll see why. It was a bit inspired by @cally's comment that Mycroft needs to take Greg with him on trips. It is a bit self referential in that if you haven't read "Games" in this thread it might not make much sense. There is a passing reference to my story on the fan fiction page "When Britain Catches Cold..." as well. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to everyone who reads. Comments = I am still interested in any and all suggestions for this line of stories. Send any thoughts by PM or a comment on the thread. Thanks again! Blessings: Portuguese “You know, I’ve been thinking.” Greg started. “Hmm… Sounds dangerous.” Mycroft murmured as he studied his face in the bathroom mirror. He chose a face cream and began to rub it in. “Oi, you prat! Listen, I think you should take me with you on this trip.” Greg was leaning against the other half of the vanity. He was ready for bed, but his lover’s routine was a little more involved. Mycroft looked sidelong at Greg. “Why, dare I ask?” “Lots of reasons.” Greg replied airily. “Perhaps you could elaborate.” The younger man rinsed off his hands and despairingly examined his hairline in the mirror. “Well, first off you should have a body guard. The government is unstable and the population is resentful and restless. Besides,” Greg paused as Mycroft looked at him incredulously. “I love guarding your body.” Greg gave his partner a wink. Mycroft gave the older man an exasperated look and filled a paper cup with water. He handed the cup to Greg and opened a prescription bottle. “Take your medication.” Greg accepted the tablet. “Why am I taking this?” “So you don’t spend half the night in the loo.” “Right,” Greg downed the pill. “I believe there will be security assigned, if needed.” Mycroft countered. Greg leaned in close and nibbled on his boyfriend’s ear. “But I could provide a much more personal level of protection.” Mycroft huffed and gently pushed Greg away. “What are your other reasons?” Mycroft reached for his toothbrush and readied it to brush is teeth. “It’s a long trip. You’ll need someone to remind you to eat and take your vitamins. Otherwise you’ll end up ill, like you do with every other trip.” Mycroft rolled his eyes as he brushed his teeth. “You don’t want to be sick on this trip. There’s too much fun to be had, I mean work to do.” Greg hastily amended. “There is some mosquito borne virus running rampant. You’re sure to get it.” There was no immediate reply as Mycroft finished cleaning his teeth. Mycroft spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. “I do not always become ill when I travel.” “No, sometimes you wait until you get home.” Mycroft glared at his partner as he wiped his mouth. Greg ignored the look and continued. “You know I’m really good at fetching tissues and tea. Also I was very useful at that gala, remember?” “Of course I remember,” Mycroft’s expression softened and he smiled at Greg. “You were perfect.” Greg blushed a little at the praise. Mycroft reached for a bottle with a green cap and held it up. “Hmm… You’ven’t been too bad lately,” Greg said thoughtfully. “I say… Twenty.” “I agree, eighteen.” “Ooo, it’s going to be a close one,” remarked Greg excitedly with a twinkle in his eye. Greg watched as the younger man efficiently administered the nasal steroid. They left the en suite with Greg snagging the waste bin on the way out. Mycroft sat on his side of the bed and pulled a handful of tissues from the box by the bed. Greg placed the bin at Mycroft’s feet and sat next to his boyfriend. “I’ve got more reasons. What to hear them?” “By heh all me-heh-means.” Mycroft’s breath was starting to hitch, but he smirked a little at Greg’s obvious enthusiasm for his arguments. “Well, it’s all about sports, innit? And you’ve never been one…” “Hih’tish, tish, tish… Heh’ETSCHOO!” Mycroft leaned into his tissues as the first of the sneezes hit him. Mycroft wiped his nose. “Bless you. That’s four. As I was saying, you’ve never been one for sports.” “Just because I hih do not follow a ah… hah…Hahstschoo… Hah’Tsch, Etsch!” Mycroft rubbed at his itchy nose. “A sport does not mean I am ignorant of their appeal or un-hah-able to Heh’TSCHOO!” Mycroft paused caught by the tremendous tickle in his sinuses and gasped a few false starts. “Bugger.” He sniffled and swallowed making a face. “Enjoy the occasional competition.” He finally finished his sentence. “Bless you. That’s eight.” Mycroft binned the damp tissues and plucked a few more. Wrinkling his long nose, he scrunched up his eyes. “Heh’ETSCH! EehhTSCH!” The sneezes burst forth, bending Mycroft with their force. “Sorry, ten.” Greg rubbed his partner’s back. “You have to admit, though, I would be able to bring some depth to your understanding of the sports, especially in football.” Mycroft nodded and waved, feeling overcome, yet again, by the tingling in his sinuses. “I will concede y-heh-your point.” His nostrils twitched and flared. “Hih’Tish, ish, ish, ish… Heht’SCHOO!” “Bless you love. You’re up to fifteen. This is my last, and I think, best reason.” Mycroft didn’t seem to be listening as his breath stuttered. “Hehh… Ahhh… Hih… Heh’TSCHSH…ETSHCH…Ehh’TSCHSHOO!” Mycroft blew his nose and sighed with relief. “Saúde.1 Isso é dezoito.2 Vou sentir saudades.3” Surprised Mycroft looked up at Greg from behind his tissues. The older man grinned at his partner. “I’ve been learning Portuguese.” Greg looked rather pleased with himself. “So it seems.” Mycroft wiped his nose and threw away the used paper. “Obrigado.4” “So, can I come along?” Greg asked hopefully. His eyes shiny and wide, a look he knew Mycroft found hard to resist. “Of course, my dear.” Greg let out a little whoop of joy. Mycroft decided not to tell his ecstatic boyfriend that it had already been arranged. Greg, grinning, leaned in for a kiss, tasting first his lover’s lips and then sneaking a quick peck on that tender nose. Mycroft jerked back and turned aside. “Hhhnnnchx… Hhnnchoo.” He stifled the unexpected sneezes. “Saúde.5” Greg nuzzled Mycroft’s neck. “Isso é vinte.6 Eu gahno.7” Mycroft gave a short laugh. “No, Gregory, I think I win.” TBC... 1,5Health 2That is eighteen. 3I will miss you. 4Thank you 6That is twenty. 7I win. Link to comment
cally Posted July 23, 2016 Share Posted July 23, 2016 Awwwww. This is the second time I read this, and it took me until this time around to figure out what sporting event(s) you were referring to. 5 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Mycroft decided not to tell his ecstatic boyfriend that it had already been arranged Yeah, I don't think there would be much fun in that. Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted July 23, 2016 Author Share Posted July 23, 2016 1 hour ago, cally said: Awwwww. This is the second time I read this, and it took me until this time around to figure out what sporting event(s) you were referring to. Yeah, I don't think there would be much fun in that. Really! I thought I was being pretty obvious. ? Okay everyone it's the Summer Olympics in Brazil ?? where they speak Portuguese. ? Glad you liked it! Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted July 27, 2016 Share Posted July 27, 2016 I love how detailed you are about Mycroft's routine. And I can just picture them, Greg Hanging out watching him, chatting, Mycroft all fastidious while he carries on the conversation. And I love Greg taking the pill from Mycroft without doubting him yet offhandedly like, Why am I taking this, oh, ok. LOL On July 23, 2016 at 7:18 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Mycroft spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. “I do not always become ill when I travel.” “No, sometimes you wait until you get home.” Mycroft glared at his partner as he wiped his mouth. Love this! On July 23, 2016 at 7:18 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Greg watched as the younger man efficiently administered the nasal steroid. They left the en suite with Greg snagging the waste bin on the way out. Mycroft sat on his side of the bed and pulled a handful of tissues from the box by the bed. Greg placed the bin at Mycroft’s feet and sat next to his boyfriend. Squee! The nasal spray, I love this. I love their ritual. I really love that it's become such a thing that they're betting on the outcome! On July 23, 2016 at 7:18 AM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: “Of course, my dear.” Greg let out a little whoop of joy. I can just see him all excited like a little boy! This is fabulous and delightful! Perhaps we'll get some action from the games.....? Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted August 7, 2016 Author Share Posted August 7, 2016 On July 26, 2016 at 11:04 PM, AngelEyes said: This is fabulous and delightful! Perhaps we'll get some action from the games.....? I'll put it on the list. Of course, I've got to work on the other idea you gave me too. I'm glad you enjoyed it @AngelEyes and @cally So, I had this little bit of pre-Mystrade in my head. I hope you like it. Conference Care Detective Inspector Lestrade realized not long after he was seated that attending this meeting was a bad idea. It was the bimonthly committee meeting on public safety and security. Very little of import was discussed or decided at these meetings and Lestrade knew his presence was merely an attempt to keep New Scotland Yard in the loop. Now as he sat in the row of chairs lining the wall, the row of chairs that were behind the ones at the table where the important members sat, he felt fatigue overwhelm him. He had awoken that morning with a scratchy throat and a vague headache. He knew it was the beginnings of a cold, but he took paracetamol and went on to work. His morning at the Yard went by quickly and he had almost forgotten his symptoms, mild as they were at the time. He could feel now the paracetamol he had taken earlier was wearing off and the scratch in his throat was more of an ache. He sniffed and a moment later he sniffed again. Greg sighed inwardly. Naturally no tissues or handkerchief were in his pocket. He was preparing to fake a call to excuse himself, when the real reason DI Lestrade attended these meetings strode in and took a seat. Mycroft Holmes positioned himself at the table with his back to the inspector, but just to the left, and angled his chair to face the head of the table. Greg had a very clear view of the elder Holmes’s outstanding profile. Distracted by Mycroft’s presence and proximity, Greg missed his opportunity to exit unremarked. The chairman started the meeting. Greg rubbed his forehead and tried to make himself comfortable for the next hour or so. As the chairman droned on, Greg entertained himself by studying Mycroft. He was impeccably dressed as always, but Greg noted the civil servant was in need of a haircut. The hair reached his collar had started to curl. Greg sniffled quietly and winced as he swallowed. There were creases in Mycroft’s jacket at the back. Greg figured Mycroft had been in meetings all day. Formal ones that required he keep his suit jacket on. Greg sniffed again and coughed lightly against the drainage in his throat. He looked at his watch casually and despaired that only a few minutes had passed. Looking down he noted Mycroft’s socks were an alarming shade of pink. Greg disguised an amused chuckle with a soft clearing of his throat. Mycroft appeared to be to listening to the chair, but Greg could see the marks being made on the note pad in front of the younger man were in fact drawings. Greg sniffled and adjusted his seat. Mycroft put down his pen and reached to the center of the table, pulling a bottle of water toward him. As he did the pen was knocked to the floor. Greg was too far back to reach it and he watched as Mycroft leaned over with the water bottle still in his hand. The clever man picked up the pen, but laid the water bottle on its side and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it rolling. With uncanny accuracy the bottle came to a stop at Greg’s feet. Sniffling Greg leaned over and picked up the bottle. He looked at Mycroft, who had rested his cheek in his hand and was again back at his drawing. He did not glance back at the DI in anyway. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Greg gratefully opened the bottle and drank. The cool liquid helped calm his irritated throat. Mycroft continued to appear to be paying attention as the various committee members contributed their earnest perspectives. Greg would occasionally peek at Mycroft’s note pad but couldn’t quite make out the picture. A few times Mycroft was asked for his opinion, which he gave succinctly and without any hesitation that would indicate he wasn’t giving the meeting his full attention. It was over halfway through the meeting and the frequency of Greg’s sniffling had increased. He fought the urge to rub his face and nose and began to consider wiping his nose on his sleeve. Greg caught Mycroft move out of the corner of his eye. He had put down his pen and rotated his note pad slightly toward Greg and tipped it up slightly. Greg snickered and snorted damply. Mycroft had drawn a detailed caricature of the chairman. Mycroft displayed no evidence of having heard Greg’s reaction. He capped his pen and put it in his interior breast pocket. As he removed his hand he was holding a travel pack of tissues. Greg didn’t have time to feel covetous as Mycroft swiftly dropped his arm down and back extending it towards the sniffling detective, the packet held out between his two longest fingers. Greg was able to lean forward and snag the tissues from his benefactor. Wasting no time, he opened the pack and carefully blew his nose. The last quarter of the meeting passed dully. Greg sipped from his nearly empty water bottle and gently dabbed at his nose. Mycroft was no longer drawing, but seemed to be checking over lists in his notebook. As the meeting wrapped up Greg decided he was going straight home. The soup in the cupboard and his bed were calling to him. He was down to the last few tissues in the pack and the last few minutes of the meeting, when he felt his sinuses start to tingle and burn. Greg knew he was rubbish at stifling his sneezes. He breathed cautiously hoping it would wait until the end of the meeting. For the most part his luck held. The chairman ended the meeting; committee members gathered their materials and filed out of the room. Greg rubbed at his nose with his last few tissues. He could see Mycroft had put away his items. The elder Holmes turned toward Greg and finally looked at him. Greg felt his breath start to hitch and his cheeks flushed. “Bless you, Inspector.” Greg turned away and pitched forward as he let out a massive sneeze. “HuhhrrRRDDZSHCHOO!” He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. “I do hope you feel better soon.” Embarrassed, Greg snuffled briefly in the tissues before sitting up. When he lifted his head the room was empty. Link to comment
Coffee Chicken Barista Posted August 7, 2016 Share Posted August 7, 2016 Oh my dear, this was lovely! I think this might have been one of my absolute favorites that you've done. Link to comment
cally Posted August 7, 2016 Share Posted August 7, 2016 6 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: He had awoken that morning with a scratchy throat and a vague headache. He knew it was the beginnings of a cold, but he took paracetamol and went on to work. His morning at the Yard went by quickly and he had almost forgotten his symptoms, mild as they were at the time. He could feel now the paracetamol he had taken earlier was wearing off and the scratch in his throat was more of an ache. He sniffed and a moment later he sniffed again. Greg sighed inwardly. Naturally no tissues or handkerchief were in his pocket Oh, poor Greg. 6 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Looking down he noted Mycroft’s socks were an alarming shade of pink. Hmmmm, I have NO idea where you might have gotten this idea. 6 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: The clever man picked up the pen, but laid the water bottle on its side and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it rolling. With uncanny accuracy the bottle came to a stop at Greg’s feet. Of course it did. 6 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Greg snickered and snorted damply. Mycroft had drawn a detailed caricature of the chairman. Mycroft displayed no evidence of having heard Greg’s reaction. He capped his pen and put it in his interior breast pocket. As he removed his hand he was holding a travel pack of tissues. Greg didn’t have time to feel covetous as Mycroft swiftly dropped his arm down and back extending it towards the sniffling detective, the packet held out between his two longest fingers. Greg was able to lean forward and snag the tissues from his benefactor. Wasting no time, he opened the pack and carefully blew his nose. What no ummmm, c & b? I had to censor myself, remembering where I am here! Yay for Mycroft to the rescue. 6 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: When he lifted his head the room was empty. awwww poor Greg. This was so lovely to read this morning. Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted August 14, 2016 Share Posted August 14, 2016 OMG! I adore this so much!!!! I love Greg's total study of every detail of Mycroft. On August 6, 2016 at 9:12 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: He was preparing to fake a call to excuse himself, when the real reason DI Lestrade attended these meetings strode in and took a seat. Indeed! Every detail of Mycroft is fantastic. I Love the pink socks! And him doodling during a meeting, lol. And then showing Greg. LOL. I love that he's paying complete attention to Greg behind him, while making absolutely no sign of it. Sneaky. And then the end. He finally turns around so they can see each other, and Greg has to sneeze. And Mycroft blesses him before he does. I always love that. And then he's gone. Poor Greg. So freaking cute! Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted August 14, 2016 Author Share Posted August 14, 2016 On August 7, 2016 at 1:25 AM, Coffee Chicken Barista said: Oh my dear, this was lovely! I think this might have been one of my absolute favorites that you've done. Why thank you! I am curious what made this particular drabble one of your favorites. I always like to know what the people who read these like. On August 7, 2016 at 4:59 AM, cally said: On August 6, 2016 at 10:12 PM, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: Looking down he noted Mycroft’s socks were an alarming shade of pink. Hmmmm, I have NO idea where you might have gotten this idea. No you probably have no clue at all. For those not in the know, Mark Gatiss as a pair of socks in the most alarming shade of pink. On August 7, 2016 at 4:59 AM, cally said: What no ummmm, c & b? I had to censor myself, remembering where I am here! You know I toyed with it, but yeah this isn't the adult thread. I think we can safely say it is canon that Mycroft doodles in meetings, Mark said so. 9 hours ago, AngelEyes said: LOL. I love that he's paying complete attention to Greg behind him, while making absolutely no sign of it. Sneaky. 9 hours ago, AngelEyes said: So freaking cute! Thank you. I, too, loved the idea of the subtle and sneaky care giving. Okay @AngelEyes, this is based on the prompt you sent me. I changed the setting a bit, but I think it captures the essence of what you suggested. I hope you, and everyone who reads, enjoys it. Lilies for Lily Greg winced as he listened to Mycroft stifle another trio of sneezes. The older man quickly skimmed the bulletin. “We’re almost done with the service,” he whispered to his partner. Mycroft nodded and again pinched his nose tight between the folds of his handkerchief as his eyes fluttered shut. “Hihnnchx, hhnnchx, hihnnchmpff” His head bobbed minutely with each stifle. “Bless you. We could leave now,” Greg offered. “Not during communion.” Mycroft carefully wiped his nose, as he whispered back. “When they start singing after, then? Everyone will be standing.” Mycroft nodded as his breath hitched. He quickly ducked his face back down into his handkerchief. “Hihnnchoo, hhnnnchx, hihnnchmpff, hihnnchmmpf.” Mrs. Lestrade turned around from her seat in the pew in front of them. “Bless you dear. Are you all right?” Mycroft flushed, but nodded. His handkerchief remained pressed to his nose. “Hhnnchx…hihnnchmmpff, hihchmmpff.” Greg patted his allergic lover’s knee sympathetically. “Lilies Mum.” “Oh, I see.” She gave Mycroft an apologetic smile and turned back around. Damn lilies, Greg thought. His cousins had to have the church decorated for their daughter’s christening with lilies--lilies for Lily. His partner wasn’t the only one present who was affected Greg could see, or rather, hear. Sniffling could be heard throughout the sanctuary as well as occasional sneezes and coughs. There was a woman down front who had a bit of a sneezing fit, but nothing like Mycroft’s fits. Greg glanced over to his partner, who seemed for the moment, under a little better control. His head was up watching the congregation lining up for communion. Nonetheless, Greg could see the toll the flowers were taking on the younger man. Mycroft’s nose was pink at the edges and his eyes had become blood shot. His lips were slightly parted so he could breathe. The ushers were moving up the aisle signaling which pews were next. Greg leaned over and softly asked, “Do you want to take communion?” He worriedly looked at the altar where the lilies were most concentrated. Mycroft shook his head. “I would not wish to sneeze all over the host.” His voice was congested. The older man quietly snickered. “You’re so considerate.” Mycroft dabbed carefully at his nose with his well-used handkerchief and a small smile played across his face. The usher reached their pew and the couple stood so others in their row could exit to join the communion line. Greg saw a hazy look come over Mycroft and the younger man twisted, ducking behind Greg’s shoulder. “Hihnnchx, hihhnnchx, hihnnchmppft, hihnnschoo.” Mycroft, resting hand on Greg’s shoulder, braced himself. The other held his limp handkerchief to his face. “God bless you, dearie.” One of the elderly aunts patted the sneezing man’s back as she passed. Her sister added as she went by, “Those lilies were just a dreadful idea. I don’t know what David and Rose were thinking.” Mycroft sighed. “Apologies,” he murmured stuffily as he sat back down. “Good Lord, My, I’m the one who should be apologizing for dragging you here.” “Gregory, you did not know your cousins would decide this was the time to display their unimaginative whimsy.” “Hmm…. I could’ve guessed.” Greg muttered. “Rose covered everything in roses for their wedding.” “Well, we will just have to hope they name their next child Ruby or Pearl.” Mycroft sniffed. Greg snorted a quiet laugh. The organ music swelled and the congregation stood to sing. “Alright, love, we’re out of here.” Greg tugged Mycroft out of the pew, out of the sanctuary and out into the fresh air. FIN Link to comment
cally Posted August 14, 2016 Share Posted August 14, 2016 Oh no! Poor Mycroft. He can't go anywhere, can he? 7 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: “Well, we will just have to hope they name their next child Ruby or Pearl. Or Opal. Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted August 15, 2016 Share Posted August 15, 2016 I love you! And this. I love this! I would quote my favorite parts, but that would be all of it, so... Seriously poor Mycroft. How absolutely miserable. Can I just take him home with me? You've made my night! Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted September 11, 2016 Author Share Posted September 11, 2016 On August 14, 2016 at 4:23 PM, cally said: Or Opal. Absolutely! Opal would work. On August 14, 2016 at 10:54 PM, AngelEyes said: Seriously poor Mycroft. How absolutely miserable. Can I just take him home with me? Yeah... No. Greg won't allow it. On August 14, 2016 at 10:54 PM, AngelEyes said: You've made my night! Aww, shucks... So a couple of administrative announcements: 1. If you haven't checked out @katy693 new Sherlock drabble thread, please do. She has posted a couple of lovely stories and we should encourage her to write more. 2. I haven't posted here recently because I have been working on a longer story, which I will eventually post in the fan fiction section. Eventually. In the mean time, here is a story I wrote, whoa, in February. It is a continuation of Valentine's Day which I posted way back at the beginning of this thread. So in the vein of Christmas in July here is Valentine's Day in September. I hope you enjoy it. Valentine’s Day, part 2: Think of Me As Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade exited the Yard a sleek black car slid to the curb and stopped. The Inspector walked straight to the vehicle and got in. “Ta, I didn’t even need to button my coat. It’s like you knew exactly when I left my office and timed my walk to the door.” He turned to his backseat companion and smiled. Mycroft Holmes smiled back and his eyes twinkled. “Impossible. It must be coincidence.” He signaled for his driver to move on. “Bollocks, Mycroft,” Greg replied amiably. He leaned over and kissed the ginger haired man on the mouth. He continued by trailing kisses along Mycroft’s jaw. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” whispered Greg when he got to Mycroft’s ear. The elder Holmes shivered as he felt Greg’s breath tickle his cheek. Unfortunately, Mycroft also felt his nose tickle and his sinuses tingle. In the close confines of the back seat he could only turn his head away and stifle against his wrist. “Hhnnchx, hihnnnchx, hihnnchx.” “Bless you.” Greg frowned. “Are you still bothered by the flowers I sent?” “I assure you I am much improved.” Mycroft removed his handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed at his nose, flushing lightly. “I’m sorry. I feel like a right idiot for not realizing you were allergic.” Greg sat back and rubbed the back of his neck. “I should’ve known.” “I had not told you.” “No, but I knew you had allergies and I’ve seen you in the fall. I could’ve figured it out or at least thought to ask Sherlock.” Greg looked ruefully at his boyfriend. “I’m going to feel responsible for any sneezing.” “Please Gregory, no more recriminations. I have taken antihistamines. The flowers are no longer present. I would like to enjoy our evening together.” The British Government spoke firmly. “You’re right. I apologize again.” Greg smiled. “Let’s start over.” He cupped Mycroft’s face and kissed his boyfriend again, murmuring “Happy Valentine’s Day.” “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Mycroft returned, then deepened the kiss. Either the restaurant was very close or time flies when you are having fun, because Greg felt like it was no time and the car had stopped at their destination. A few moments were needed to set hair and clothing back into place, before they were ready to leave the vehicle. Greg looked out the window at the unassuming entrance. “A French restaurant. You are feeling romantic.” Greg turned a brilliant grin on to his date. “Nonsense, they serve the best pot au feu and I thought a bistro style restaurant would suit you better than haute cuisine. “ Mycroft was straightening his waistcoat. “See, thinking of me. That’s romantic.” Mycroft rolled his eyes and adjusted his cuffs. “Get out of the car Gregory.” Greg smirked and gave his proper partner a proper buss on the lips. He opened the car door, hopping out and offering a hand to Mycroft. Mycroft exited after giving his driver some brief instructions. They headed into the restaurant; Greg first, closely followed by Mycroft. The Detective Inspector took two steps into the establishment and spun around, startling his dinner companion who was close on his heels. “We can’t eat here Mycroft.” Greg stated. Mycroft looked at Greg and then at the dining room, beautiful decorated for the day with roses at each table. The hostess was walking toward them smiling. “Why… oh, I see. I am sure it will be fine.” The British Government affected an air of nonchalance. “My…” Mycroft ignored Greg and acknowledged the hostess. “Mr. Holmes, welcome. We have your table ready,” the hostess greeted them. Not getting anywhere with his partner, Greg turned to the hostess. “May I make a request?” She nodded, looking slightly puzzled. “My partner is very allergic to roses.” Mycroft huffed as Greg spoke. “May we have a table that is as private as possible and the flowers removed?” “Gregory, I do not want to make a fuss.” Greg shot Mycroft a quelling look, surprising Mycroft into silence. The hostess’s gaze darted between the two men before replying. “Certainly. Just give me a moment.” She hurried to the back and began whispering to whom must have been the manager. “Gregory, this is unnecessary,” Mycroft softly protested. “You said you didn’t want to make a fuss. Well, look at the room. There are roses on every table. Would you rather sneeze your way through dinner?” Greg asked. The elder Holmes sighed and quietly agreed. As they waited Mycroft felt his nose begin to twitch. He gave a soft gasp, pulled out his handkerchief and turned away from the room. Greg tensed and laid a hand on his boyfriend’s back. “Hhhnnchmmpff, hihchmmpff, hihnnchmppff.” Mycroft stifled the sneezes and smothered them with the cloth. “Bless you. Are you sure you want to stay?” “Yes. It is only the bouquet here at the podium.” Mycroft wiped his nose carefully and pocketed his handkerchief. Greg suppressed a sigh and refrained from rolling his eyes. The wait staff had quickly rearranged a few tables and a cozy corner booth was readied devoid of the offending flora. The hostess re approached the couple and led them to the booth. Normally Mycroft preferred a table near the entrance with a view of the room and the door. This booth was located in the farthest corner. It afforded little view of the room and none of the door. The hostess left them with their menus and Greg scooted close to Mycroft. “This is nice. Relatively private and no flowers.” Greg smiled encouragingly at his date. “Think this will suit? It’s as far away from any of the roses as you can get without leaving the restaurant.” Mycroft hummed in agreement. He was beginning to feel annoyed. He just wanted to forget about his allergies. Greg seemed intent on bringing them up, first in the car and again at the restaurant. The younger man began to review the menu. “You’re annoyed with me.” Greg stated. Mycroft was surprised. He thought he had hidden his irritation rather well. “No,” he lied and refused to look at Greg. Instead he studied the appetizer list. “Would you care to order a starter?” Greg narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips studying the younger man, then shrugged and glanced at the menu. “You choose. It all looks good.” “The Terrine de Campagne I think. Ah, I believe our champagne has arrived.” Their waiter approached the table with the bottle of champagne Mycroft had arranged to be served when he booked the table. Mycroft placed their starter order and the waiter opened the bottle of wine with a satisfying pop. Having poured their glasses he left the couple to themselves and went to put in the hor d’oeuvre order. Greg turned his most charming smile on Mycroft. He wasn’t sure what he had done, but he sensed his boyfriend was a bit put out with him. He raised his glass. “To you, Mycroft Holmes. Never have I been happier to spend a Valentine’s Day with someone than I am to spend it with you.” Mycroft gazed at his date and couldn’t help the light blush that pinked his cheeks. He returned Greg’s smile and felt his annoyance begin to evaporate. Mentally, Mycroft shook his head at himself; he was so in trouble with this man. “To you Gregory Lestrade. As much as it pains me to say, the sentiment is mutual.” Greg tipped back his head and laughed. Smirking broadly he clinked his glass to Mycroft’s and took a sip. Mycroft brought his glass to his lips, but paused to watch Greg. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he saw Greg sip and savor his champagne. It was a pleasure to watch Greg enjoy his food and drink, thought Mycroft, as he tipped his own glass to enjoy the sparkling wine. The tiny bubbles popped and fizzed across his palate and up into his sensitive sinuses. Mycroft quickly swallowed and turned his head, holding his unoccupied hand over his mouth and pressing hard under his nose. Eyes fluttering and breathes hitching, Mycroft felt his wine glass being taken from him and a napkin replace it. “Hihnnchx, hihnnchx, hihnnchmppft.” Shuddering, he managed to get the napkin in place for the last stifle. The tickling in his nose was not relieved and he knew he was going to have to refrain from suppressing any further sneezes. Gregory reached over under the table and patted his boyfriend’s knee. “Bless you,” he murmured quietly. Mycroft nodded, but his eyes squeezed shut again. “Hih’tsh, tish, tish… HehTSCHmmpfft!” Greg gave Mycroft’s knee a gentle caress. Mycroft sniffled lightly and wiped his nose with the napkin. “Excuse me.” Before Greg could offer another blessing, Mycroft left their booth and headed to the restroom. Grateful it was a private room; Mycroft locked the door. He pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose hard triggering a harsh double and a bit of coughing. Once recovered from the coughing, he faced the mirror and took stock. His eyes were red and watery. His nose was pink around the edges. Reaching into his inner breast pocket Mycroft pulled out what he called his ‘emergency kit’. Generally he only used this when his allergies got the best of him during long meetings or conferences. He was glad he had the foresight to bring it to dinner. In the small case he carried a few antihistamine tablets, eye drops, a small bottle of nasal saline and a small stick of nasal decongestant. He downed an antihistamine tab, mentally noting to drink more water and less alcohol. Making a face he took up the nasal saline bottle. He rinsed his nasal passages and blew his nose again. Keeping the handkerchief in place he shook his head slightly as his sinuses prickled. “Heh’SCHOO! Heh’tsch, tsch, tsch, tsch… Heh’TSCHOO! Heh’CHOO!” Sighing he carefully wiped his nose with his now nearly unusable handkerchief. Uncapping the decongestant stick, Mycroft took a couple of sharp inhales in both nostrils. His eyes watered slightly and the sudden opening of his nasal passages made his sinuses buzz. His breath hitched wildly for a few interminable seconds and then released. “Heh’TSCHOO! Heh’TSCHOO! Heh’TISHOO!” He breathed deeply enjoying the temporary relief. He knew it wouldn’t last, but it should get him through dinner without further interruption. He finished with the eye drops and put his case away. Washing his hands, Mycroft contemplated the annoyance he had experienced earlier. He returned to the table in time to hear the exchange Greg was having with the waiter. “You do not wish to drink it now?” The waiter was clearly puzzled. “The champagne is great, but I was hoping you could cork it and we can take it home.” Greg was telling the perplexed wait staff. “Cork it?” The waiter asked incredulously. “Yes, my partner,” Greg glanced over to see Mycroft coming back to the table and bravely continued, “and I would rather finish it later. Maybe make mimosas.” Mycroft slid into the booth and noted the horrified look on the waiter’s face. “I think that is a splendid idea,” he said to Greg. Turning his gaze to the server he raised his eyebrows. “Of course. I will take care of it at once.” The waiter took the bottle and scurried off. “You really like the idea of mimosas?” Greg was relieved. “No. It would be criminal to make mimosas with that bottle of champagne.” Mycroft placed his napkin in his lap, noting it was a fresh one. “However, I do approve of the suggestion of enjoying it later. You are obviously hinting you would be asking me to stay the night.” Greg blushed and looked down at his hands resting on the table. “Guilty. Though I am not sure how my invitation will be received since you seem a bit irritated with me.” Mycroft felt a pang. “I was, but I realize you were only being attentive to my needs.” He took a breath and released it. “I am not used to that, at least not from anyone I haven’t paid to be attentive.” The elder Holmes tentatively reached for his date’s hand. Greg grasped Mycroft’s hand as it touched his own and rubbed his thumb over Mycroft’s knuckles. They sat there quietly holding hands. Mycroft’s long fingers captured and caressed by Greg’s blunt ones. “Think of me,” whispered Mycroft. “Always,” murmured Greg. FIN Link to comment
cally Posted September 11, 2016 Share Posted September 11, 2016 I don't know why, but this made me feel kind of sad. I feel like Mycroft shouldn't have had to suffer alone. Not that he was suffering per se, but you know what I mean. And then . . . 5 hours ago, Seeking Clarity + Wisdom said: “Think of me,” whispered Mycroft. Unrelated, I haven't had a mimosa in like 15 years. Link to comment
AngelEyes Posted September 12, 2016 Share Posted September 12, 2016 Squeeeeeee!!!!!! It's my birthday and I come on and find Mystrade!!!!! Seriously the best ever!!!! I may be a slight bit or a lot bit drunk but this was a lovely delightful super sweet piece. Poor Mycroft, just trying to have a lovely night out, but Gregory all down to fix it up! And the "emergency kit", I love it! I can't totally see straight right now, but know this was awesome! Link to comment
Subtly Clashing Wishes Posted September 25, 2016 Author Share Posted September 25, 2016 Hello my lovely readers! Sherlocked is going on in London right now and Mark says he has a cold and I am getting ready to take a trip over the pond to that lovely city myself, so all is right in my world. Well, most things anyway. On September 11, 2016 at 5:12 AM, cally said: I don't know why, but this made me feel kind of sad. You know, I just knew this story would make you feel sad. But it really shouldn't. On September 11, 2016 at 5:12 AM, cally said: Unrelated, I haven't had a mimosa in like 15 years. Right, add to list. Get @cally a mimosa. On September 12, 2016 at 1:59 AM, AngelEyes said: Squeeeeeee!!!!!! It's my birthday and I come on and find Mystrade!!!!! Seriously the best ever!!!! Serendipity!!! And Happy Belated Birthday (again)!!! On September 12, 2016 at 1:59 AM, AngelEyes said: this was awesome! Aww! Thanks. If I had been thinking I should have directed you, while drunk to go read Drunk on the adult thread. So I read non fetish Mystrade, of course, on other sites. I recently read a older work by one of my favorite writers Tammany. She made an observation that I think most of us here on the forum would disagree with and that lead me to write this. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to comment; they are always appreciated. I doubt I will post anything else for a bit as I will be packing and what not. Hopefully I will come back with even more fodder for this thread. “The thousandth kiss, though… That one has to be considered. Even assuming ten kisses per day on average, that’s a hundred days into a relationship. Long enough to know which way to turn your head. Long enough to know that when your partner’s allergies act up, kissing becomes a complex matter of timing and tenderness balanced with oxygen deprivation—a not entirely appealing form of breath play.” --The Thousandth Kiss by Tammany This Kiss Gregory Lestrade was an excellent kisser. It didn’t take Mycroft Holmes long to appreciate this fact. Mycroft Holmes was a fine kisser himself. He used his observational skills to quickly determine what kind of kissing was pleasurable for his current partner and proceeded from there. Gregory Lestrade, however, was more inventive and intuitive. He had multiple styles of kissing and he adapted them to the situation as called for. Thus kissing Gregory, for Mycroft, was a revelation in the nuances of the act of affection. There was the tender and light kiss used when he wanted to show a little discreet affection in a semi-public setting, such as at a parent’s home or in the office with Anthea. Sometimes it was given on the lips and sometimes given on the cheek. It was always a fleeting, soft brush of the lips. There was the quick buss on the lips. This often occurred on their way out the door to go their separate ways. A promise kiss, Mycroft thought of it. Generally firm, but chaste, that kiss was like a placeholder to mark where to pick up when reunited. Of course, there was the consuming, passionate kiss associated with sex. A deep, urgent, heated tasting of the lips, mouth and tongue. It was a kiss designed to ignite desire and fuel it, eliciting groans and other unseemly noises. It was a kiss that could last forever. The kiss Mycroft found the most wonderful and bewildering was the kiss he received when his allergies were in play. Having experienced a multitude of Gregory’s kisses by this point Mycroft should have known his partner was up to the challenge of kissing Mycroft Holmes with his allergies in full swing. No matter how congested and runny and entirely unappealing he felt, Gregory would still look at him with affection and want. It was several months into their involvement before Greg saw Mycroft with his allergies in bloom, so to speak. Mycroft had hoped to be called away to the other side of the earth during those weeks of sheer drippy, sniffly, sneezy hell that came each spring. Alas, no. So it was in his Diogenes office that he experienced this kiss the first time. He’d tried to beg off dinner, pleading work. Greg simply suggested he bring take away, forcing Mycroft to instead offer to order dinner from the club dining room to be served in his office. Upon entering Mycroft Holmes’s domain, Gregory Lestrade, with his above average intelligence and above average observational skills, didn’t take long to note his lover’s physical state. His warm chocolate eyes met Mycroft’s watery blue eyes and Greg smiled with sympathy and without a trace of pity. Mycroft had refused to leave his desk. He felt unreasonably secure behind the wall of furniture. Greg merely walked around the obstacle and perched a hip on the edge facing Mycroft as he sat in his chair, now with nothing between them. Taken somewhat aback, Mycroft muttered a greeting. Greg murmured, “Ah, love.” He cupped his lover’s cheek as the younger man sniffled and with his thumb he brushed away a stray tear that had gathered at the corner of Mycroft’s eye. Greg leaned down for what Mycroft thought would be the customary greeting kiss, a gentle kiss that tended to linger pleasantly. Instead there was a light brushing of the mouths, followed by tender nibble of each lip in turn. Greg’s tongue darted into his partner’s slightly opened mouth, giving teasing touches to the lips and tongue. Each action punctuated by a tiny pause allowing Mycroft a chance to breathe. Mycroft sniffed again and cringed inwardly, but Greg simply directly his attention to the corners of Mycroft’s mouth. The younger man pulled away and Greg sat back. “Missed you,” he said. “You cannot possibly mean this.” Mycroft carefully wiped his nose with the handkerchief he had on hand. Greg gave a quiet chuckle. “Oh My, you are not your allergies.” He again moved forward and nibbled along his lover’s jaw. He hummed appreciatively as his mouth traveled from the light bristle of the cheek to the smooth softness of the lips. Greg took advantage of their slight parting to steal a deeper kiss this time. He kept it brief, mindful of his partner’s need to take breaths. An erotic rhythm developed as the kiss continued--nibbling and lipping, pause, teasing and tasting, pause. Suitably distracted from his misery, Mycroft didn’t notice when the buzzing in his nose and sinuses began or when his breathing shifted to hitching. Luckily someone else noticed. Greg leaned back as Mycroft’s breath began to hitch in earnest. The younger man quickly found his handkerchief. “HehTSCH! TSCH! TSCHOO!” Mycroft blushed furiously and attempted to blow his nose. “Hih’SHOO! TISH! TISHOO!” He wiped his nose gingerly. Turning back toward Greg, he hardly dared to look up. “I’m terri...” Greg, picking up where he had left off, interrupted Mycroft. The apology lost as the older man pressed his mouth to his lover’s, then re established their previous rhythm. “Bless you,” Greg whispered against Mycroft’s mouth during a pause. Mycroft sighed and initiated a kiss of his own. FIN Link to comment
cally Posted September 25, 2016 Share Posted September 25, 2016 Awwwwww. Poor Mycroft. This was so soft and tender and . Link to comment
Juto Posted September 26, 2016 Share Posted September 26, 2016 This was a piece of sheer romantic beauty ahhhhh kissing-goals i think the promise kiss is probably my favourite But they were all wonderful Link to comment
Recommended Posts
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now