A short oneshot I wrote inspired by a very cute Mystrade-comic drawn by onthesideoftheotters on tumblr ( onthesideoftheotters dot tumblr dot com/post/29395637657/i-was-like-damn-this-anon-used-4-pleases-gotta)
I hope you'll like it - and don't worry, I will upload my other stories soon, I promise.
„Well if it isn't Mycroft!"
Mycroft turned around, surprised to hear the voice of the DI directed to him. Especially to hear the other use his first name, had they been on a first name basis for a few years by now. The sudden change was… surprising, if not of a shocking nature.
He took in the DI's appearance, noting that he held a box in his hands - coloured in yellow and rose, from the café he usually frequented and had meet Mycroft in several times already, donuts, obviously. One of them was in Gregory's hand, a mark of teeth interrupting the smooth surface of the - what appeared to be a strawberry-flavoured one - donut, frosted with a thick, gluey liquid.
There even were some crumbs on the right corner of Lestrade's lips, apparently going completely unnoticed to the DI.
"Oh, Inspector", Mycroft eventually said, turning around slightly to have a better look at Gregory and stopping his way towards his car.
A simple gesture of his hand was enough to signalise his assistant that he would come any second, after he would have a nice, probably short, chat with the Inspector who smiled at him brightly. Mycroft had never been able to understand the effects of pastries and sweets on a person, but the expression of Lestrade spoke of pure pleasure and spoke of nothing but beatitude.
"Greg, please", Gregory smiled at him, and Mycroft didn't have the heart to tell him that it spoke of a lack of manners to speak with a full mouth.
Gregory's glance fell on the box he had tucked under his arm, a few last bites and he had eaten his own, fingers twitching as he obviously resisted the urge to lick his fingertips. Mycroft toyed with the idea of offering him a tissue, because there was no way the DI's fingers weren't gluey and dirty after eating a donut with icing.
For a moment, both were silent. Mycroft went through his mental schedule, checking for the third time in the last forty-two seconds that he wouldn't be too late to his next meeting. He practically could feel his assistant's glance on his back, and knew without having to turn around that her face held a deadpan expression despise the annoyed confusion she probably felt.
Mycroft himself had no idea why he was standing here and watching Lestrade slowly taking the box in both his hands instead of going to the car and heading to his office, where he would have an important conversation with the PM.
"Want a donut?"
The sudden question made Mycroft blink in confusion, and he was rather certain the expression of surprise was almost comically visible in his features, or at least Lestrade's slightly amused smile gave the impression that he must have looked ridiculous.
Almost patiently, Gregory waited for an answer, offering the box to Mycroft and holding it open slightly. Only a crack, but the scent of sugar and icing filled Mycroft's nostrils and made him painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't eaten in two days. It took all his self-control, and the memory of his latest encounter with Sherlock, to not reach out and take one of the donuts.
Mycroft uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other, putting his hand in his pocket to hide the twitching of his fingers, torn between politely saying no and leaving or listening to his manners and at least taking one - he could have given it his driver, or his assistant.
He went for the decline and lowered his glance, wetting his lips and avoiding Gregory's eyes.
"I think I'll pass", Mycroft mumbled, feeling his cheeks heating up in shame and embarrassment.
Moments passed. Mycroft could feel Gregory's glance on him, the DI's hands lowering themselves and taking the box out of Mycroft's sight, who stood there - tensed, embarrassed, ready to leave. He had a meeting in ten minutes, he had no time to stand there while Lestrade thought about... about what?
Mycroft practically was able to hear Lestrade think, the other's eyes wide and directed to the sky above them - it was a rainy day, with no sun shining through, dark clouds covering the sky while the two men stood there in front of Scotland Yard. Gregory obviously would have to be at work by now, it was half past seven, his work began at seven-twenty.
A loud 'Oh!' made Mycroft flinch in surprise, eyes falling on Gregory's whose expression would, wouldn't it have been directed to Mycroft, have amused the politician highly. Mouth wide in shock, eyes wide like morons and - would they have been in a comic which had been drawn exaggerated adorable by an artist in the Japanese chibi-style - expression slack-jawed.
Mycroft caught himself thinking that it was somehow cute, but he pushed the thought away immediately and mentally smacked it with his brolly until it disappeared in the back of his head again. Lestrade was a lot of things - but thinking he was cute was anything but appropriate.
"You don't need to diet, Mycroft!" The politician almost took a step backwards because of the force Gregory used in his voice, yet his intonation was nothing but cheerful and light-hearted. A wide, beaming grin caused Mycroft to be suspicious of the following words, but he would definitely not have expected to hear the following sentence. "I like how you are now."
Blinking, Mycroft analysed the words in his head, trying to find any sarcasm or mocking in them, a joke, something telling him that Gregory hadn't meant the words like Mycroft had understood them. Mycroft felt a blush spread out on his cheeks, feeling them becoming pink. His eyes went wide as the realisation hit him like a well-placed punch, making Mycroft's eyes go wide.
Gregory just smiled, lifting his hands again to show Mycroft the box with donuts. He had opened it now, showing the donuts ordered by their icing. Mycroft saw chocolate ones, vanilla, even lemon, and one single donut with a strawberry icing, lying there in the right corner of the box surrounded by crumbs of the ones having been eaten before.
"I'll let you have the last strawberry frosted one", Gregory uttered, voice soft with a kind of affection Mycroft had not once heard while being the person spoken to. With a coy smirk, Gregory added more quietly: "Don't tell Anderson."
Mycroft stood there for several moments, staring down on the bright grin the other offered, letting his glance slowly wander down to the donuts. Once again, he felt the hunger and the urge to reach out and to ignore his diet for one time - one time wouldn't hurt, he told himself, it was one donut and he found himself being unable to say no with the way Gregory looked at him.
"If you insist", Mycroft heard himself agreeing, cheeks turning into a deeper shade of pink as Gregory's smile grew wider, eyes shining with a sparkle of something Mycroft couldn't put a finger on.
Taking a handkerchief, Mycroft carefully reached out to the strawberry frosted donut, practically being able to hear Sherlock's mocking comment he would voice later, when Mycroft would visit him to offer his brother a case. The mocking question 'How's the diet going?' which Mycroft had to hear so often by now, but somehow, he felt that he hardly cared about it.
Maybe it was due to Gregory's comment on how he liked how Mycroft was now - Mycroft was, actually, certain that it had to be the reason.
"Here", Gregory moved his hand quickly, taking the donut out of the box and offering it Mycroft who took it, fingertips brushing and a shiver running down the politician's spine.
With a face flushed in a deep pink, almost a reddish colour, Mycroft held the donut in his hand, staring down at it before he hesitantly bit into it. It was hard to resist the urge to groan in pleasure as the taste and flavour exploded on his tongue. But it apparently was visible, because Gregory beamed at him, staring on Mycroft's lips as he swallowed and licked over them, trying to be subtle.
"Is it good?", Gregory asked in an amused intonation, forcing his eyes up from Mycroft's lips to his eyes. It was the first time Mycroft noticed how warm Gregory's own were, a soft hazel which made Mycroft's heart skip a beat. "The donut… do you like it?"
Hearing a silent coughing from behind him, Mycroft had the feeling of being pulled out of a deep river or ocean. The pink he had seen around the two men faded, and he returned to London with his mind which reminded him that he had a meeting in five minutes.
Mycroft smiled at Gregory warmly and took another bite, not bothering to clean the crumbs off his hand as he took a step backwards, seeing that Gregory returned his smile. "Yes, I do. Thank you… Gregory."
Leaving Gregory with a radiant expression, the politician made his way towards the car, ignoring his assistant who raised an eyebrow at him as soon as they were sitting in the car. The engine was turned on and they left, not being there long enough to see how Gregory was blushing deeply and grinning like a love-drunk idiot.
Even though he was one, a love-drunk idiot who made a mental note to always have donuts with him when he would see Mycroft or when the chance was there to.