Something new, finally. Mystrade. Takes place after the scene in SiB, where Mycroft's sitting in his office. I was wondering what would happen if Lestrade would come in and... here we are.
Just an embrace
Gregory Lestrade opened the door to Mycroft's office. He needed to talk to him about a case Sherlock had solved a couple of days ago, there were strange, loose ends he wanted to discuss with him.
But the DI was stopped cold when he saw the older Holmes sitting at his desk. His sleeves were rolled up and next to his elbow stood an almost empty bottle besides a whiskey glass. He looked completely down.
"Greg." He greeted weakly.
"Mycroft, what happened?" The man in uniform hurried over to the British government and sat down on the edge of his desk.
Mycroft let his mobile phone drop on the polished wood.
"Moriarty just let me know, that he found out about our most secret project." He buried his face in his hands.
"The one Sherlock stumbled across? The one you couldn't tell me about?" Greg asked.
He was shocked, seeing Great Britain's mightiest man like this, vulnerable, depressed. A weak nod answered his question. He struggled for a moment, before he put his arm around Mycroft's shoulders. The other one tensed for a second and relaxed again. He didn't look up, nor did he move.
"Mycroft." The Di whispered softly. He didn't know when he had started to feel something more than friendship towards the older Homes.
"How much damage has been done?" He asked quietly.
"Too much." Mycroft murmured.
Without thinking twice Gregory grabbed the other man's hands and pulled him first into a standing position and then in a hug. For a moment they stayed like this, the DI still sitting on the desk, Mycroft standing in front of him.
It didn't last long until Mycroft began to shift and tried to break the embrace. Greg refused to let him go, it felt too good having the older man's body pressed against him.
He knew that Mycroft wasn't to comfortable with this kind of physical contact, but he didn't care too much at the moment.
An instant passed and the struggling stopped. The two men relaxed and kept leaning against each other.
The elder Holmes pulled away after about two minutes, a weak smile curled his thin lips.
"Thanks." He whispered.
"Always." Greg returned the smile.
He didn't dare to say that he loved him, but his smile and the slightly elevated pulse betrayed him.
He hoped, Mycroft wouldn't notice, but he did. Like the brothers always noticed everything. But instead of retreating, he leaned forward again and their lips met.