Just an idea that was going around my head. If a good amount of people like it I will probably write a few more chapters.


Chapter One

It was a cloudy Wednesday afternoon and in a lovely house in an even more stunning English town, sitting in his room listening to Classic FM was a teenager. The room was large but sparsely furnished, there was an upright piano standing in one corner next to a bookcase – packed with books on politics, philosophy and geography, not your normal teenage boys choice of reading - and a wardrobe and in the other corner sitting at a desk was said teenager. Mycroft was sitting writing his English essay when his Mother came in.

"Son, I need a favour at the weekend," she said.

He looked up from his essay to regard her and said, "Yes Mother, what is it?"

"I need you to look after your brother this weekend, John will be round too. I am going to Edinburgh with his Mother."

"Do I have to?"

"Well yes, I would appreciate the help."

Mycroft's heart sank, he hated having to look after his brother on his own. "Okay," he said half heartedly.

"I will make it worth your while."

"How much?"

"I guess I can give you fifty quid for your trouble," she said with a smile.

Even though Mycroft wasn't particularly bothered about the money he pushed for more; there was a few books he wanted to get, "One hundred pounds and you have yourself a deal," he retorted.

His Mum laughed, "Seventy five and you don't have to do the dishes for a fortnight. Do we have a deal now?" she held her hand out.

"I guess so," and he shook her hand. Mycroft knew how to manipulate people, he never actually wanted any money, - he could already afford to get the books - let alone one hundred pounds but because he knew his Mum needed this holiday, he knew that he could get something out of her and the promise of seventy-five pounds did make the prospect of looking after a troublesome eleven year old and his friend much more attractive. Mycroft had never actually looked after Sherlock for more than a few hours at a time, and even then he dreaded it so the idea of looking after them for a whole weekend very daunting.

"We will be leaving tomorrow afternoon, so you will have to pick them up."

"Okay I have a free period last so I will duck out and get them then."


It was break and Mycroft was talking to Greg in the very quiet senior students common room.

"So I won't be able to go to the cinema tonight. My Mum is giving me seventy-five pounds to look after Sherlock and John for the weekend." he explained.

"What a shame, I was really looking forward to going out as well, we haven't done anything together in a while," Greg said entwining their fingers.

The bell rang and Greg quickly stood up pulling Mycroft to his feet, he looked around to make sure no one was looking, he put his hands into Mycroft's blazer pockets and kissed him on the cheek.

"See you later," he shouted and ran off to his next class.

Mycroft stood frozen on the spot for a moment. He had been going out with Greg for just short of six months but he still got flustered when Greg kissed him. He also felt like the luckiest guy in the world. He knew how many girls fancied Greg but because neither of them had come out to anyone yet no one was aware that he was gay and Greg still got asked out a lot by many of the girls in the year, there was no danger of that happening to Mycroft though, he was never really the type girls in his year went for, he was the quiet smart type where Greg was the more sporty type - though still smart - and he was incredibly attractive. He was walking down the hall to his French class thinking about the day Greg first talked to him, he never expected it, they had never even properly met before. Mycroft perceived Greg the popular sporty guy in the year below that everyone – teachers and pupils alike – adored, and Mycroft was the academic that had very few friends – in fact, he opened up to few people in the first place – that was what confused Mycroft when the popular guy invited him to the cinema. The relationship between the two was very unlikely.


It was May and it was the last day of school for people who were off on study leave. Mycroft took some of his old text books out his locker and put them in to his bag then he walked to the common room. He sat down at one of the desks, the room was empty, everyone was outside basking in the beautiful sun light. He opened up his maths text book and started working on some logarithms, Mycroft enjoyed maths and he worked his way through the problems in no time. He put the book back in his bag and took out his French essay to memorise for the exam. He had been sitting reading it to himself for ten minutes or so when he heard a chair shifting. He looked up to see someone staring at him - someone with spiky brown hair and grey/blue eyes – he recognised the face – the owner had been going to this school for at least three years now - but he couldn't put a name to it so he just smiled and said, "Afternoon."

"Hello," the guy said back, he walked up to Mycroft's desk – he was tall, almost as tall as Mycroft himself and Mycroft was one of the tallest boys in his year, in fact he was taller that a good chunk of the teachers - and sat down in the chair next to him. "I am Greg Lestrade, I am in the year below you."

"Mycroft Holmes." he replied and held his hand out to shake – he recognised the name from the football notice boards that he passed several times a day.

"Do you want to go to town or somewhere with me one day?" Greg asked.

Mycroft laughed and looked at Greg who had a face of complete sincerity, he stopped laughing, "Your not joking," he said.

"Why would I be joking?"

"Lets just say I am not the usual companion for an outing, of any sort," he said, smiling to himself. "Anyway, that would be very nice."

"Okay, so do you want to go tonight?" Greg asked.

Mycroft hated the cinema, "Okay I guess that would be good," but Greg intrigued him so he accepted.

"Like after school, I will meet you at the train station at four o'clock," Greg suggested.

"Quick question though, why, out of all your friends, and many other people in your year - that I imagine would love to get to know you - would you choose me as a companion to the cinema?"

"No reason, you just seem like a particularly nice person and I would like to get to know you."

Mycroft didn't pay much attention to the teachers lecture about exams that afternoon, he was thinking about why someone whom he had only just met would want to do something with him, he couldn't think of any reasons so he gave up and looked at his watch, it was coming up to half three. He heard the last of his teachers speech "So if you stay calm and focus you will do very well. Good luck everyone."

Mycroft stood up quickly, flung his bag over his shoulder and ran out the room. He ran down the road to his house and up to his room. He dropped his bag on the ground and got changed. He rummaged around his desk for his wallet and looked at his watch, it said quarter to four. The train station was five minutes down the road so he had time to brush his teeth and hair. When he looked presentable he went to leave the house. Sherlock was blocking the door.

"Mycroft, what are you in a hurry for?" he asked.

"I am going to the cinema with someone, now leave me alone." he pushed Sherlock out the way and got out the door, Sherlock followed him down the street.

"Why?"

"Because the person asked me if I wanted to go." he answered.

"Who?"

"Someone called Greg. We have really only just met."

"Then why are you going to the cinema?"

"Because he seems nice and I would like to get to know him."

They were approaching the train station and Mycroft could see Greg walking towards them looking slightly confused. "Mycroft, aren't you a bit over dressed to be going to the cinema?" Sherlock asked when Greg was in hearing distance.

"Shut up Sherlock, piss off back home, I think John will be lonely in the house on his own."

"You do know he hates the cinema?" Sherlock told Greg.

"I actually didn't know that," Greg said smiling at Mycroft.

"Just go home Sherlock please."

Sherlock huffed and left.

"Sorry about that," Mycroft said.

"If you hate the cinema then why are you coming with me?"

"No reason, I just didn't have anything to do today," he said.

"We don't actually have to go to the cinema, I guess I just want to get to know you better."

"I am perfectly fine going to the cinema."

"Okay then. What do you want to see?"

"I don't know. What ever you want to see I guess," Mycroft said.

They finally agreed to see an action film, that neither of them were too keen on seeing. They walked up to the cinema laughing about nothing in particular and they realised that they had a lot in common. Mycroft really liked Greg and even though they had only first talked to each other a few hours ago it was the first time he felt truly comfortable around someone who wasn't his Mother or Sherlock.

When they got to the cinema they bought their tickets and went to the screen. The lights were already low and the film was just about to start. About an hour into the film Mycroft felt something on his hand. He looked down and realised that Greg's hand was on top of his own. He looked over at Greg and smiled, Greg suddenly pulled his hand back looking slightly embarrassed, he didn't look at Mycroft but he did smile.

When the film was over Mycroft was relieved. He walked out and waited for Greg at the entrance.

"That film was awful," Greg said.

"Yes, it really was," Mycroft didn't pay much attention to the second half of it, he was more interested in what had happened with the hand contact.

"What happened, I am sorry, I didn't mean it."

"It doesn't matter, I have forgotten about it already."

"Okay then, do you want to get coffee?"

They walked away from the cinema talking about their summer holidays. When they got to the coffee shop Greg suddenly started getting quieter. Mycroft was confused but went up to order their drinks – a black coffee no sugar for Greg and a chai tea latte for himself. He went back to the table.

"How can you drink that stuff?" he asked as the waitress brought the drinks over.

"What? Black coffee? It is nice, I really like it, how can you drink chai tea, it tastes like crap."

"No it doesn't, it reminds me of Christmas," he murmured. "Of happier times."

The waitress came over and gave them their drinks.

"Greg, are you okay, you have been quiet since we sat down."

"I am fine," he said.

"Are you sure," Greg nodded. "Okay then, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Well I know you are in the football team, but tell me about the person under the football strip," he asked.

"I hate football," Greg answered. "I hate it so much, I don't even now why I play it," Greg looked at Mycroft. "Wait, I do know why I play it," he said bitterly, "To get my dad off my back. If I play football he won't ask me about what I really want to do with my life and we won't have arguments."

"Why can't you tell him?" Mycroft asked, curiosity flowing over him.

"I did tell him I wanted to quit football one time – ages ago – he was furious. He talked about how I shouldn't give it up, how it was an amazing talent and most kids would sell their souls to be able to play like that."

"What do you really want to be?"

"I want to join the police force." Greg said, smiling. "Enough about me, tell me what is under that hard exterior of yours."

"I have a little brother – Sherlock – you met him earlier."

"Yes, he sounds charming." Greg said, and laughed.

"That was his good side you saw earlier, I don't even want to begin to describe what his bad side is like." he explained. "I want to work for the British Government when I leave school. In fact, I have been offered an intern ship over the holidays."

"That is really cool, doing what?" Greg asked.

"I'm not quite sure yet, but it will probably be fetching coffee and printing stuff out," he said, and laughed, Greg laughed too, but suddenly cut off after a few seconds. "What is wrong?"

"I am just thinking about how I am going to word this question so it is clear and you don't get freaked out," he said thoughtfully.

"Just go ahead and ask, how hard can it be?" he said.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out again."

"Why did you have trouble asking that? I don't mind going out again, as long as we don't have to go to the cinema again."

"I was meaning on a date."

Mycroft stared at Greg in disbelief, "I'm not actually gay."

"Neither am I but I really like you."

"This is a surprise," he said, still slightly shocked.

"It is a surprise for me too, I never thought I would have the balls to ask you," Greg said, laughing.

"Well, I will accept, it would be nice."

"It was actually my motivation on asking you to the cinema in the first place," Greg explained to Mycroft.

"You know you could have just been straight with me, I really do like you too," he laughed.

"I thought it would be better getting to know you first, I didn't really want to ask you out if it felt like you didn't like me.

They spent an awkward ten minutes drinking coffee and talking about school, both of them avoided where their first date would take place until Greg was about to leave.

"I need to go now. Here's my phone and I can get your number."

Mycroft took the phone and started typing in the digits. "What do you want to do on Saturday?" he asked.

"I don't know, we could go to the park."

"That would be good."

"Well, text me if you have to change the plans."

Mycroft stood up and Greg leaned in for a hug. He was startled but he returned the hug however awkward it was. Greg left Mycroft alone in the coffee shop smiling like a cat who had learned how to work a tin opener.


Mycroft was surprised when Greg asked him out and he was still surprised to this day why he chose to ask him out in the first place. Greg could have had the pick of anyone – boys or girls - in either of their years yet he chose Mycroft. No one knew that they were a couple yet and they both planned to keep it that way for at least a month or two more. Neither of them were ready to come out to anyone yet and Mycroft wanted to tell Sherlock before anyone else.

Mycroft got to his French class five minutes late.

"It isn't like you to be late Mr Holmes."

"I'm sorry Sir, I lost track of time."

"That is okay, now go and sit down."

He was walking to his desk when he heard someone mutter "He was probably too busy shagging his boyfriend to come to class."

He was now concerned that someone had seen him and Greg together, but they were both so careful, it was probably a jibe from someone who didn't like him – and there certainly were a lot of people who didn't like him. He sat down at the table and took his text-book and jotters out. He also took his phone out quickly and texted Greg 'Je t'aime - MH' Greg didn't take French but he was aware that this was a positive statement. Mycroft put his phone back in to his pocket, he smiled and looked up, he knew the text was cheesy but it was a tradition. He sent Greg the same text every time he was in French since he started back at school, usually Greg didn't respond to this but Mycroft knew he had received them because of the indicator on his phone. This time was different though, this time Greg replied 'What does that mean? - GL' Neither of them had said that they loved each other to their face and Mycroft didn't want to do anything that would jeopardise their relationship.

'I'll tell you later. - MH'

'Tell me now. - GL'

'Patience is a virtue my dear friend. - MH'

'Whatever, see you at lunch. GL'

'I promise I will tell you. - MH'

The rest of French went by without any excitement and Mycroft left at the bell to go to German. Mycroft was the only person who picked German this year so the class was more like one-on-one tutoring with Miss Dean. Most of the boys were incredibly jealous of him because she was a young and attractive woman but her looks were wasted on him, he already had his 'one'.

"Mycroft, wie geht es Ihnen heute?" They started with their usual greeting to each other in German.

"Ich bin sehr gut danke. Selbst?" Mycroft answered back, again in German.

"Mycroft, I know about you and Greg."

"What?" Mycroft said looking at Miss Dean with a shocked expression.

"I know you are going out with him," she said.

"And how is that your business?" he retorted.

"It isn't but I want you to know you can come to me if you need help or someone to talk to."

"That is very kind of you. Thanks," he said realising that he sounded slightly rude before.

"Now on to the German."

They had been practising conversational work when the bell rang.

"I need to go now. Bye."

"Bye Mycroft, remember what I said."

"I will," and he ran out the class room. He put his extra books in the locker and walked up to the common room thinking about how he was going to explain the text messages. Someone ran up behind him and covered his eyes.

"Shit, who's there?" he asked knowing fine well that it was Greg. "Miss Dean knows."

"What does she know?"

"She knows about us."

"That explains why she has been acting awkward around me lately. Now what did that text mean and why do you never send me one in German?"

"You would understand it if it was in German and I know you refuse to use translation software," Mycroft said.

They were walking hand in hand toward the common room.

"Okay I will tell you but you have to promise not to get freaked out and run away."

"Okay," Greg said confused. "Go ahead."

"I- well I," he stuttered. "Greg, I love you," he said quickly and shut his eyes. It felt like an eternity before anything happened and when something did happen it was only a shift of the couch.

"What?" Greg said.

"Greg, I love you," he said, his eyes still closed. The moment Mycroft opened his eyes Greg crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss. They sat for a long moment of utter bliss.

"You don't know how long I have wanted to say that Greg."

"Mycroft, I love you too," Greg said.

They sat talking for the whole of lunch, and when it was safe they shared the odd kiss. The bell rang, both of them seemed sad to be leaving each other, though - and Mycroft was unaware of this - Greg had planned to come round that evening to keep him company.


The bell rang for the end of fifth period and Mycroft went to his locker. He took out the necessary books he needed to study with that night and walked out of the school. As he was walking up the road to Sherlock's school he was smiling. He had never expected to be this happy with anyone before but that was until he had met Greg. Mycroft and Greg worked together perfectly, they were like two perfectly fitted cogs. Mycroft arrived at Sherlock's school, collected the boys and as they were walking up the road punching each other he realised that he was out of his depth looking after them, he wished that Greg could come round but he had football that evening. Mycroft unlocked the door and the two ten-year old's ran inside.

Greg was walking down the street with a pizza in one hand, he was going to see Mycroft. This was a surprise for Mycroft because usually at this time he was at football practice but he had told his team mates he was ill and his mum that he was going out to meet someone because practice was cancelled. As he walked down the street he started to get nervous, he had never been inside Mycroft's house, neither of them had seen the others house before. He approached the door and knocked once, he heard a banging sound and someone shouting "Wait a moment", then the door opened up to Mycroft's brother and another boy around the same age.

"Umm, hello, is Mycroft in?" he asked.

"Yes, I shall go and get him."

"Thanks."

"Mycroft!" and the two boys ran up the stairs shouting. Greg walked in and closed the door. He stood in the large hall and suddenly felt intimidated. He knew that the Holmes' family must have had a fair amount of money because they could afford to send Mycroft to a private school but he hadn't realised how rich the family actually were.

"Greg, what are you doing here?" he saw Mycroft standing at the stairs looking as gorgeous as ever.

"I though I could keep you company or help you baby sit or something."

"I would love that you know," and he walked forward to give Greg a hug.

"I have pizza too."

"Even better, I really am a lucky guy," Mycroft laughed.

"Where should I put it?"

"Here, come on, I'll put it in the kitchen."Mycroft grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the large house in to the equally large kitchen. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes please, a coffee if you have any normal stuff."

"What a shame, we only have chai tea." Mycroft laughed.

"Well thank god I'm not thirsty any more."

"Please just try the tea," Mycroft had been trying to get Greg to drink chai tea since their first date but hadn't been successful. "I'll make it worth your while."

"Mycroft, you do know I'm not fussed about sleeping with you, I would much rather enjoy our time together," Mycroft and Greg were probably soul mates, they were happy with their relationship the way it was and neither of them were too bothered about furthering it.

"I don't mean like that. I was going to make a cake, but if you don't have any tea you won't get any of it and it is a bloody amazing cake."

"No cake will ever make me give in to chai tea Mycroft." he wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist and kissed him.

"Well I will make it anyway and you will regret it."

"You and your cake," Greg laughed and Mycroft hit him over the head with a news paper. Greg wrestled him to the floor and straddled his waist and kissed him just as Sherlock and John walked in to the kitchen.

"What are you doing Mycroft?" he asked. "And why is Greg kissing you?"

Greg quickly scrambled to his feet and helped Mycroft up.

"Sherlock, Greg and me are going out with each other."

"What, like boyfriends?"

"I guess so."

"Okay, can you get me a couple of cups down from the cupboard?"

"I shall Sherlock," Sherlock and his friend got a drink and left the room.

"Was that it?"

"What?"

"No sarcastic comments or anything?" he asked.

"I guess not, Sherlock obviously couldn't care less whether we are gay or not, but then again he is only ten."

"Lucky, if my parents found out I would be done for."

"Why?" Mycroft asked looking concerned.

"They are devout Christians, I don't think they would cope well with a gay son."

They took the pizza in to the front room and talked for a while about their families, Greg talked a lot about his parents. He didn't have a very good relationship with his parents because he didn't go to church and he though that if they found out he was gay it would tip them over the edge and would be thrown out the house with nowhere to go.

It was around nine o'clock, Sherlock and John were in bed and Greg and Mycroft were still talking.

"Well Mycroft, I think I need to go home now."

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Mycroft asked.

"That would be very nice. Thank you, I only live ten minutes away."

Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand and they walked down the road together. When they reached his house Greg kissed Mycroft and turned to the door, his dad was standing on the step looking furious.

"Greg, I want to speak to you now!" he shouted.