Authors note: I read in a fan fiction (By: IBegtoDreamandDiffer) that the first time Mycroft was kissed back by another man the guys name was Douglas. Having a friend named Douglas i instinctively told him about it and insisted i write a fan fiction with him and Mycroft in it. This is what i came up with. Heres to you Douglas! Enjoy!

Mycroft rushed through lunch; barely eating any of the cake Sherlock had baked him. His little brother was a really good baker, when he didn't try to use his chemistry set. He basically threw his plate into the sink and left the kitchen without rinsing it.

"Where are you going My? You seem to be in a hurry." Sherlock deduced jumping up and sitting on the counter, swinging his feet.

"Nowhere Sherlock. I'm busy that's all." He yelled behind him as he went on a hunt to find his coat and his umbrella.

He heard Sherlock jump down from the counter and follow him into his bedroom. "Come on My." The voice sounded from behind him, "You know better than to lie to me. I thought you could trust me."

Mycroft stopped in his tracks and turned towards his little brother. "Of course. I can trust you." He whispered to himself.

Sherlock tilted his head to the side, waiting for Mycroft to tell him where he was going.

"A date." Mycroft sighed.

"What?" Sherlock asked tilting his head a bit more, pretending not to have heard Mycroft.

"I said I have a date." Mycroft said a bit louder turning his attention back to looking for his stuff.

Sherlock broke out into a fit of boyish chuckles. "With who?" He asked trying to sound serious.

Mycroft rolled his eyes pulling his umbrella out from under his small bed. "I don't see how that could possibly be any of your business, Sherlock." Mycroft turned and tried to head for the door. Sherlock quickly blocked his path.

"You aren't leaving in till you tell me who it is, and you wouldn't want to be late for your date now would you?" He said crossing his arms.

Mycroft sigh and leaned down. Placing his hand carefully under Sherlock's elbows and picking him up, physically moving him out of his way. "I don't have time for your childish games, Sherlock. I will see you when I get home." He said twirling his umbrella as he sauntered away.

The coffee shop that Mycroft had agreed to meet Douglas at was only a short cab ride away from home. Just far enough away he felt he was safe from his parents seeing him. He sat at a small table in the back corner of the shop, nervously tapping his fingers on his coffee cup. He just really wanted a guy, just for once, to have some one that was his. Even if it was only for a night. "Mycroft?" A strong voice asked from behind.

Mycroft stood up and faced Douglas. He was a good looking bloke. Only about 3 years older with spikey brown hair and dark blue eyes. Maybe an inch shorter. "Yes. Douglas, I presume?"

Douglas smiled a warm smile. And sat down next to Mycroft at the table. Confident and proud. Mycroft wondered how he managed to look so sure of himself. Homosexuality wasn't the most accepted thing in the world, and yet Douglas looked unbothered by the glances and whispers from around the coffee shop. The pair sat and sipped on their coffee, talking casually about normal everyday things and just giving a general description of what their lives where like. They got on well, had reasonably similar views on some political issues and such, they even both liked Manchester United. Mycroft enjoyed football when he had the time. They talked for hours, barely noticing the sun setting through the window.

Finally, as the business in the coffee shop began to slow Douglas stood up and stretched his arms high above his head, his shirt lifting revealing to Mycroft a small hint of the outlined muscles that lurked underneath the thin fabric. "So, Mycroft. Wanna come back to my place for dinner and a movie?" The elder man invited.

Mycroft stood quickly and glanced at his watch, "That sounds lovely." He accepted.

Douglas chuckled softly and the pair paid their bill before heading out side and catching a cab to Douglas' small flat.

The pair had barely made it through the front door without ripping each other's clothes off. The idea of dinner and a movie completely forgotten the moment their lips had touched. The heat of the moment overcame Mycroft and he gave into the impulse, returning the frantic kiss. Douglas slammed him against the bedroom door, his sleek body rubbing against the taller mans. Mycroft didn't know what he was doing. Douglas reached down towards Mycroft's pants and he panicked. "No." He gasped pushing the more experienced hands away from his crouch.

Douglas planted his lips firmly back on Mycroft's, his tongue raking against them, "Come on." He hissed between kisses, "You know you want it." His hands slowly creeping downward.

Mycroft pulled back and pushed Douglas off of him. "I said no." He repeated. "What about dinner and a movie?"

"You actually believed that?" Douglas laughed with a smirk, "That was just a line to get in your pants."

The younger man was taken aback. He was speechless; Douglas had only wanted him for sex.

Douglas furrowed his brow. "Well, if you aren't going to fuck me get out." He said flatly, waving towards the door.

Mycroft watched as Douglas turned and sauntered into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Then he turned and went for the door and as soon as his feet hit the sidewalk pavement he ran. No one direction, just anywhere his feet took him. For blocks he ran in till he found a dark spot in a small park. He sat down under a small tree and curled his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. Rain began to fall, down through the leaves of the tree and soaking through his dark suit. It was then he realized he had forgotten his umbrella back at the café. A tear fell from his eye and he realized he was completely alone. It was the first time he cried alone in the dark, but certainly not the last.