A/N: Prompted by the word 'green'! Just a cute little Mystrade AU. Shameless fluff.
Greg yawned, scrubbing a hand through his messy dark brown hair as he walked through the door to the shop. He heard his Uncle bellow his name and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he grumbled. Drinking combined with a late night was a potent combination designed to make college students late for work. Grabbing a rag he cleaned the counter near the lone register. His Uncle owned a small (yet successful) flower shop not far from the University he attended. Greg had worked there since he was a small child. His mother was single and worked two jobs to put a roof over their heads. She had often entrusted him to her brother when she could not afford a babysitter.
As soon as Greg was old enough to understand the differences between flowers, plants, and weeds, his Uncle had put him to work. Consequently Greg grew to love the flowers he worked with on a daily basis and learned to cherish the nuances that comprised the plant world. What piqued Greg's curiosity the most were the vegetables and fruits his Uncle grew in the back. He wished that his small flat near his Uni was big enough for a proper garden. He had built two window boxes, but they were not nearly enough for what he wanted to do. Maybe someday he would have a proper home with room for a large garden and even some fruit trees. His Mum had taught him to dream big, so he did. Sometimes when Uni was stressing him out, he would sit and draw garden schematics, planning what he would put where when he finally had the opportunity.
A breeze swam through the shop and it carried voices. People approaching the shop, then. Hastily Greg checked over his clothes, smoothing out the few wrinkles that were leftover from the day before. Dirt stains were so difficult to get out out of clothing when they were repeatedly exposed to soil. Four people walked in and Greg froze, staring wide-eyed at them. They were - elegantly dressed was the worst of it. The taller woman was obviously the leader, sharply dressed in well-pressed trousers with a blouse and an immaculately tailored blazer. There was a man next to her in an elegant pinstripe suit - about her age. Her arm was resting on his. A couple, then. The third person was another woman. Younger than the leader by probably five years or so. A sister, perhaps? A friend? She wasn't quite as neatly dressed (fewer designer items), but her clothing was still probably worth more than Greg's flat cost for a month.
The last member caught Greg's attention and held it. He was a few years younger than Greg - either in his first year of Uni or getting there. His three-piece suit was neat, sharply cut, not a thread out of place, and a deep navy blue. He wore neat, tailored shoes that were black and elegant. His legs were long, his torso and hips narrow. He was thin yet wiry, hints of muscle showing underneath the suit. His hair was a gingery auburn - neither red nor brown, but a mixture of both. His nose was a bit too large for his face but it suited him, somehow. His lips were on the thinner side, yet expressive all the same. Greg took an involuntary step back. The man's eyes were a startling shade of grey-blue and they were staring pointedly in his direction.
They approached the register and Greg did his best to smile. "How may I help you?" he asked the leader politely. She raked him over with her eyes and Greg tried not to flinch under the scrutiny.
"We'd like to see the owner." Her voice was as sharp and elegant as her clothes. The man murmured something in her ear and she laughed.
"I'll go get him." Resisting the absolutely absurd impulse to bow he turned around and walked into the back of the shop, looking for his uncle. "Hey, Unc?" he called.
"Yeah?" Greg's silver-haired uncle popped his head out from behind his office set-up, peering intently at the younger man.
"We got a group this time. Look posh. Asked for you." Greg grimaced. "Good luck." His uncle sighed.
"Check the water system for the tomatoes, will you?" he asked, standing up from behind his office desk and massaging his lower back. "I think there might be a problem with the plumbing."
"I study biology, not plumbing," Greg muttered good-naturedly. He let his uncle lead the way, waiting a few minutes in the back room before he followed. If he was really lucky the posh crowd would have followed his uncle to whatever they were looking for and Greg would be left alone in peace. While he enjoyed interacting with the customers, the posh crowd tended to look down upon him for where he was in his life. Being known as the poor gardener's boy with a single Mum attending a fairly prestigious University came with quite a stigma. It didn't help that he often showed up to class with dirt stains on his clothes from work that he had not been able to clean.
It was a relief to see that he was right. The four were crowded around some of the hydrangeas and Greg's uncle was talking and gesturing. His eyes were darting to the lilies and to some of the more expensive flowers normally reserved for events. Picking wedding flowers for the couple, then. Probably not her first wedding if Greg had read her correctly. His Mum had always told him that he had a knack for reading people. It was something that had saved him several times in the past. Knowing who he could trust and who wasn't worth it saved him in secondary. It was even more critical in Uni, being at the bottom of the social totem pole as he was. It had also gotten him more than a few dates in the past. Grabbing the small toolkit they kept for maintenance on their irrigation system, Greg plodded off towards the back where the tomatoes and other vegetables lurked.
On top of selling plants and flowers, they also had a small fruit and vegetable stand they managed during the weekly farmer's market. It was Greg's job to maintain the plants that they harvested the produce from. It was often a difficult, thankless job - people rarely thanked someone for harvesting fruit and with his dual major at Uni his time was often at a premium. Not that it was solely because of school, of course. Greg did like to have a good time. Lately, however, his friends' attitude (and constant desire to drag him to parties) had started to grate on his nerves and affect his grades. The party he had attended last night would be his last. For a while, anyways. He was hoping for one of the most difficult jobs to get in the UK. Stellar grades were the least of what he would need to secure it.
The cheap PVC piping they used as the base for their irrigation system hung just low enough for Greg to reach if he stood on his toes. Gently he ran his hands over it, feeling for leaks. He could test the system, but normally leaks that were big enough to cause problems were big enough to feel. Unable to find any, he dropped back on his heels with an exasperated sigh. The tomatoes and cucumbers were getting too much water. It was probably a drainage issue. He turned around to examine their containers closer and froze. Standing a few feet away, watching him intently, was the younger of the men who had been with the party. The one with the eyes. Greg blinked, wondering if he was imagining things. "Can I help you?" he asked cautiously.
"It's a drainage problem." The man's voice was clipped, the accent posh. Suited him as well as the immaculate ensemble he was wearing.
"Er, yeah. I figured when there wasn't anything wrong with the pipes." Greg scratched his head, wondering if he was seriously having this conversation. Or if it really was a conversation to begin with. He wasn't really sure what was going on. "Some of the drains are probably clogged."
"Indeed," the man murmured, watching Greg intently. "You are attending University, correct?"
"Yup," Greg confirmed. "I study biology and criminal justice." Ignoring the scrutiny he was under he slipped a hand underneath the box the tomatoes were in, evaluating how well the drainage was flowing. A clog, then, in two of the three holes. Rocks probably. Sometimes they shifted and prevented the water from getting through. It was an easy enough fix and Greg had the tools with him. "What about you?" he asked casually as he got to work. It was easier to ignore the other man's presence while he toiled, although Greg continued to glance at him out of the corner of his eyes.
He was gorgeous, all milky skin and freckles. Greg would've grabbed him and snogged him senseless if he had the opportunity, but his uncle would probably have to kill him for taking indecent advantage of a customer, especially one as wealthy as this. "I start University this autumn. I will be studying International Relations, Philosophy, and Politics." Greg cocked an eyebrow as he started working the first rock out of where it was wedged.
"Busy boy, yeah?" The first rock came out, water draining easily through the hole. Greg grinned in delight, hoping the other one would be just as easy to remove.
"One could say so." The auburn-haired man paused. Greg was certain he made quite the image, dressed in scruffy trousers and a grey shirt covered in dirt stains. It was a definite contrast to the elegant creature standing next to him. "My name is Mycroft."
"Mycroft?" Greg grinned over his shoulder. "Nice name. Suits you." He was surprised to see a faint blush underneath the freckles on the other man's face. Mycroft was even more adorable when he blushed and Greg wanted to kiss him all the more for it. "My name's Greg. Gregory Lestrade. I'd shake your hand, but I'm covered in dirt, y'know?" Mycroft inclined his head slightly, the corner of his lips quirking upwards in a display of amusement. Greg beamed at him, pleased to have gotten that much out of him.
"Why criminal justice and biology?" Mycroft asked suddenly. Greg blinked at the question, his hand currently battling with the larger of the rocks. A shout of triumph and it was out.
"Hah, gotcha, you bugger," he told the rock. Setting it aside he grabbed the rag and wiped his hands clean, considering Mycroft's question. "Ever heard of forensic botany?"
"Ah," Mycroft appeared to be going through files in his memory. Greg would not have been surprised if his brain was arranged into various filing cabinets. "Utilising a knowledge of plants and their various permutations in order to assist the Yard with solving crimes. Ambitious." Preening slightly at the compliment, Greg started sorting his various tools back into the box.
"You're studying three subjects," Greg pointed out in response. "You're ambitious too." Almost immediately Greg regretted what he said. Mycroft looked sad for a few seconds before his face was back to the mask that had been there prior. Or what Greg was learning was a mask. He changed the subject. "You seem to know a lot about irrigation and soil conditions. You like plants?"
Mycroft shifted his posture every so slightly, his expression wistful this time. He seemed more open, more relaxed. It was oddly casual for a man in a three-piece suit. "Yes," he said with a gracious incline of his head.. "I am unable to maintain any, however. It is not suitable to my position." It wasn't difficult to figure out from that why Mycroft was sad when Greg mentioned that he was ambitious. His choices were not solely his own, then.
"I only have a couple window boxes at my place," Greg said with a laugh. "You might try a window box in your room?"
"I am afraid they would only die of neglect. Or die of poisoning, if my younger brother got his hands upon them." Greg arched an eyebrow, hoping the poisoning comment was sarcasm.
"Younger brother? There's two of you?" The tools were packed up and he leaned against one of the wall supports now. It was only then that he noticed that Mycroft held an umbrella in his grip. How had he not seen it before? It fit Mycroft like an extension of his arm. Polished wood handle, black brolly. Mysterious and sexy.
"Unfortunately. Sherlock is twelve and the epitome of all that is chaos." There was a wry smile on Mycroft's face which Greg happily returned. He hadn't felt so comfortable with someone in ages, much less with someone as seemingly formal as Mycroft was. It made him want to get to know him more, to find out who he really was under the suit. To find out what he looked like underneath the polished outfit. Greg bet that he was all freckled and gorgeous and - Mycroft cleared his throat, throwing Greg out of his thoughts. "Are you okay, Gregory? You have gone a bit red."
Coughing, Greg focused on fiddling with the plants in front of him. The cucumbers. "Er, yeah. Just a bit warm in here." The slight grin indicated that Mycroft didn't believe it for a second and Greg looked pointedly at the plants, embarrassed at his slip-up. With what Mycroft had read already in his body language and clothing, he would not have been surprised if he could read what Greg was thinking just from his facial expression.
Mycroft stepped closer until he was six inches from Greg, so close that their chests could touch if Greg shifted slightly and stepped forward. He had an inch on Greg in height, although Greg was broader around the shoulders and chest. Greg swallowed hard. "I know what you were thinking." Mycroft's voice had dropped an octave, deep and rumbling in Greg's ear. Greg shuddered, his cheeks flaming red. "It seems we have similar thoughts." He stepped back, startled, his eyes wide as he looked into Mycroft's. There was a salacious grin spreading its way across Mycroft's face as he leaned forward and tucked a card into Greg's pocket.
"Mycroft?" a voice called, breaking the spell that surrounded the two young men.
"Coming, Mummy!" Mycroft shouted back. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Greg's frozen lips. His fingers trailed along the small card in Greg's pockets and he smiled at Greg's expression. This smile was a different smile - tender and shy, sweet and warm at the same time. "Call me." Mycroft patted the pocket one more time before he schooled his features back into the mask he had worn when he first approached Greg. Pivoting on the balls of his toes Mycroft turned and strode away, leaving Greg speechless and staring at his retreating form.
A/N: Planning to continue this! Debating between a full-out story and merely snippets of their lives together. If you've got an opinion, review/send me a message/find me on tumblr (same username) and send me an ask!