I'm the Same

Gregory stared into the mirror of the boys' bathroom, inspecting the damage. Damn Sherlock Holmes. Damn him to hell. He grabbed a paper towel, wetting it, He placed it against a particularly nasty gash on his forehead.

The door creaked open. Gregory turned to see Mycroft, a boy in his class, Sherlock's elder brother. "I am terribly sorry for my brother's behavior. It was rude and unacceptable."

"It's fine. Don't apologize for him." After a second, he muttered, "Where did that kid learn how to fight?"

"I'm not sure. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Would you get a bottle of peroxide and a rag from my backpack?" he asked, gesturing to his schoolbag on the ground near Mycroft's foot.

"Sure." The boy reach in, searching.

Suddenly remembering the other contents of his bag, he added, "Don't be too afraid of anything else that you might find in there." Mycroft was about to ask what could possibly frighten him when his hand brushed against what he knew was a condom.

"Oh." His face turned an unsavory pink.

Greg too turned red. "I—I can explain."

"No need. It's better than getting some poor girl pregnant." As he passed the boy the bottle and rag, Gregory gave a dry laugh.

"Funny. I thought it had gotten around the whole school already," he muttered absently.

"What?" Mycroft asked, a bit confused.

Greg turned around and looked at him, a weak grimace on his face. "I'm not about to get anyone pregnant." Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "Mycroft, I'm gay." Both boys were silent. Gregory bit his lip, waiting for the look of disgust to appear in Mycroft's eyes, the look he had grown so familiar with. But it didn't. Instead, he stepped forward and poured peroxide on the rag, dabbing it gently on Gregory's forehead. "You're not uncomfortable?"

"Why would I be?" Mycroft asked, moving onto a small scrape on the cheek, almost caressing Gregory's face.

"I just told you I'm gay and we're alone in a bathroom with a closed door." Plus, everyone knew that those doors locked when closed. No one could get inside.

Mycroft pulled away slightly in what Greg assumed was nervousness. "You aren't about to push my against a wall and rape me against my will, are you?"

Gregory narrowed his eyes in disgust. "Of course not." He was nowhere near wanting to do that. Even if he had an inkling of a crush (alright, more than an inkling) on Mycroft Holmes. Sex was the last thing on his mind, generally speaking.

"Then why would I have anything to fear?" Mycroft continued to help Gregory with his wounds and sighed. "Why did you think I would be uncomfortable?"

"The rest of the school is. Ever notice how no one comes near me? It's like they think I have a disease."

"I see. . . How strange."

"What's so strange about it?" Wasn't that how all the gay kids here were treated? All one of them.

Mycroft looked up. "I suppose there are a few differences, but I'm the same, Gregory."

Greg furrowed his eyebrows. Either he was very confused or Mycroft was. . . "Are you joking?"

"Would I joke about something a delicate as this?"

"No." He paused, allowing Mycroft to continue with fixing up his wounds. "What differences are there?"

"I'm keeping closeted quite well."

They were quiet as Mycroft finished up, placing the bottle in Greg's bag. "How did you know?" Gregory asked.

Mycroft laughed. "When I got a crush on another man. That, and Sherlock had been telling me for years."

Gregory smiled, sitting down on the floor with his back against the wall. Mycroft followed. "Who was the crush, if I may ask?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the whole secret part of being your secret admirer."

It took Greg a moment to understand. "Me?" He choked on the word. How on Earth had he, of all people, managed to gain Mycroft Homes' affection? He wasn't rich, and he wasn't overly handsome. "Why?"

"The little things, Gregory." He paused, looking into the man's eyes. "The way you smile at me and then assume I didn't see you, so you try again. And how you always stand up for yourself. You're quite charming, as well."

Greg's already pink face turned red. "And I suppose your brother told you how I feel about you?"

"No. I figured that one out on my own. I may not go around showing off like him, but I'm pretty sharp."

"I know. You're a lot smarter than most of them think. They underestimate you because they're too wrapped up in bloody Sherlock. But you're a lot smarter than him, as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you." Mycroft, not quite sure how he was supposed to continue the conversation, stood, extending a hand to help Gregory up. The boy took it and got to his feet, but didn't let of the hand. He gripped it tightly and grabbed his bag.

"Gregory, just because we have a mutual interest does not mean that I want to hold your hand," Mycroft said.

"Oh. . . Sorry." He let go, by Mycroft grabbed his hand again.

"However, since the interest is you, I'm going to be quite agreeable on the matter."

Greg smiled. "You sure you want to? People are going to talk. And this will ruin the whole closeted thing you've got going on."

"It's only a matter of time until my bother has it all around the school anyway. And no one with half a brain cell will bother me about it."

"Let's go then."

Together, they walked out of the doorway, into the hall, where everyone could see. Neither one cared for the stares that were thrown their way. Those people didn't matter. The only thing that did was the fact that they had each other.

.

.

.

Thank you!

So, everyone, there is a bit of a reason behind this here story. I believe with all my heart that FanFic characters need to go through awkward coming-outs. Why? Because I had to. And if I had to, Mycroft and Lestrade have to. It makes it feel more realistic, in my book.

I hope you enjoyed this. Even if it's AU, which is weird for me to write.

I do not own these characters or Sherlock.