Here. Have it. Again it's 4:30 AM over here and I'm sick of this chapter. Again, I don't think it's very good. I really hope you guiz don't hate me for this. Or for my bitching. I hope you like it well enough.
Here's to the ConsultingAnon who found the Third Star quote in the last chapter. I said I'd dedicate, so I'm dedicating. I just hope he/she is not mad that it was for such an... iffy chappie.
Anyway, here's the beginning of the new story-arc!
Current Song: Heard Them Stirring by the Fleet Foxes
Current Thought: I need sleep, chocolate, a bathroom and some ice for my bad knees. And not particularly in that exact order. Also: I listen to a lot of Fleet Foxes when I write... hmmmm...
Another Brick In The Wall: Part 9
Christmas break was sneaking up on everyone fast.
And everything was slowly changing, just like the weather. For example, Molly and Mike were officially dating now. Irene and Harry were as well. Jim had actually cooked for Sebastian (well, he said cooked, everyone else said 'blew up the kitchenette'). John was looking into being a surgeon and Sherlock had discovered nicotine patches – which he preferred over smoking.
The biggest change though had to be between Mycroft and Greg. Ever since the book and the kiss, things between them had been different, and understandably so. They had finally found each other through the mess of their lives, and it was a good thing too. They each needed someone, and it seemed that the other was exactly it.
It wasn't that they were immediately comfortable and together. No, it took a bit of time. They were shy at first, very shy. Greg started out after that first kiss, asking Mycroft to kiss him each time he wanted the other boy to; as if afraid he would be denied. After a week of this, Mycroft recognized the look Greg would get on his face and would kiss him gladly before asked. Gregory stopped asking after he realized Mycroft could just tell. It made every kiss that much sweeter, knowing Mycroft was looking for the signs.
Mycroft had restricted himself to only kiss Greg when he saw the look. He broke out of that habit when he lost control one day and just kissed the other boy because he wanted to. Gregory hadn't minded. Not one bit. So it was give and take now. And that was fine too. They needed that.
And the kisses weren't crazy and heated either. They started out soft and sometimes, a little passion would get in there, but it was new for the both of them and there was plenty of time to be crazy and passionate later on. For now, they wanted to take it slow, learn the shape of the other's mouth, what made him gasp or breathe faster, kiss harder, go boneless. They each wanted to learn what the sound of the other's heart was like, thrumming against his neck, his pulse a wonderful throbbing against the other's fingers where they stroked his neck.
Mycroft would run out to do whatever the senior class president did, and he would drop a kiss to Greg's forehead before leaving, no matter what the other boy was doing, whether it was reading, doing class work or even sleeping. Greg would rush out to practice, but first, he would find Mycroft and, right in the doorway to their room, he'd lift his head and Mycroft would lower his, and their lips would touch sweetly, swiftly, and he would wink and be off mere seconds later, the other boy's flavor lingering on his lips.
The others figured it out eventually. Sherlock was the first (of course), John the second by default. The latter glanced at Greg running down to practice one afternoon and he'd made a face and said, "Use mouthwash. My brother's probably been stuffing himself with cake and who knows what else, when he cheats on his diet. You don't know what's been in his mouth."
And John just blinked, smiled and said, "Good for you Greg. And I think you're going to be late for football."
That had been that. The rest of the house had just caught on and smiled, gave them space when they happened to be in the same room and averted their eyes when they would be achingly sweet with each other. And they had to be sweet, because Greg was still learning, learning what it felt like to have someone who actually cared how his day went, who wanted to kiss him, who wanted to be sweet to him, not just because he was someone to be sweet to, but because they liked him for who he was and cherished him. He'd never had that before. He was trying to get used to that now.
There would be some days, when he would imagine what it would be like if it all went away, if Mycroft changed his mind and left Greg alone. He would get a look in his eyes and space out, his mouth twisting with distaste, his heart giving an erratic throb. Mycroft would know though , he always did, and he'd snap Greg out of it, putting his arms around the other boy, reassuring him of his presence, making sure he knew he was wanted and that Mycroft wasn't leaving him any time soon or ever, if he had his way.
It was good for the both of them, and they were learning. That was probably the best part. Coming out of their respective shells, the secret places they had been hiding themselves from the world in, Mycroft with his city of ice and Greg with his cave of solitude, and they were doing it for each other. And it was just getting so much better. Better than either of them could hope. Their comfort zones eventually crossed with each other and things became so much easier for them. Greg couldn't ask for anything more, thanked his lucky stars every single day. Mycroft just wondered what he had done to deserve the wonderful thing he had with Gregory.
One Saturday night found them both stretched out on their backs on Greg's bed, side by side, looking up at the ceiling, talking about nothing in particular. They'd never slept in the same bed and maybe they wouldn't for a while, but what they were doing now was enough for the both of them. Besides, Greg really liked the position they were in. He was on one side of the bed and Mycroft was on the side closest to the door, one arm hanging off the side of the mattress. The other one had its hand entangled with Greg's between them. He liked that he could just reach between them and take Mycroft's hand in his, that his touch was wanted, craved even.
Mycroft had just finished making a corny joke about politics and the Prime Minister, Greg still shaking with laughter, not at the joke (it honestly wasn't that funny) but at the way Mycroft had told it, when the former cleared his throat awkwardly and said tentatively, a tone he rarely used, "Gregory, may I ask you a question?"
Greg composed himself, tucking the look on Mycroft's face when he had told the punch-line away in his mind for future reference, and he turned his head to look at his… boyfriend? Best friend? But no, they were more than that now, surely? He really didn't know the rules to any of this. It was a bit frustrating. Then again, he couldn't be blamed. He'd never had this before.
"Yes, Mycroft. Even though I'm pretty sure you just did…" He smiled at the irritated look on the other boy's face. "I'm just joking. Go ahead, love." Greg adored addressing Mycroft with a pet name. Mycroft would always flush with pleasure when he did, just as he was now, and it gave Greg a warm feeling in his chest.
Mycroft looked away now though, his face flushing for a completely different reason. "I was wondering… if you would like to…" He let go of Greg's hand and flipped onto his side to face the other boy. He used his previously occupied hand to prop his head up, and then used his now-free hand to trace patterns over Greg's clothed chest as he thought of the correct phrasing of his question. Greg had the sudden urge to have that hand on the bare skin of his chest, tracing patterns thoughtlessly, but he shook the thought away as Mycroft began to speak again.
"What are you doing over the winter holiday break?" Mycroft asked. Winter Holiday Break. Mycroft was ever politically correct with these things.
Greg honestly wasn't doing anything. He'd be staying at school this year, just like he had the last two years. He was a bit far from home, and anyway on holidays like these his parents went up to see his older sibling in the city they went to university in. They were neither religious nor into the corporate Christmas holiday, so it was mostly just free time to see their family. Greg had used to stay with his grandparents if he didn't want to make the trip, still being home with his parents since he was the youngest child out of five siblings, but now since they had passed he stayed at school. He didn't really mind. It had never been an issue in the past.
Greg knew of mostly everyone else's holiday plans. Sally was going to Liverpool to spend it with her father. Anderson was going to spend it in London with his aunt. Mike was going to his parents out in Cornwall and Molly was spending it with her older brother. Irene was still tied between going home and staying at school. Harry had fought to keep herself and John at school; apparently, according to Sherlock – and he'd told Greg in the strictest confidence – the Watsons were a bit on the drunkard side (which explained Harry's attraction to alcohol and John's aversion to it) and Harry wanted John away from the influence.
Greg didn't know what Jim and Sebastian were doing. And honestly? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Nothing. Staying at school, actually. Which isn't so bad," Greg finally answered. He usually stayed away from the other kids. It helped keep the attacks at bay if he just wasn't around any of them.
Mycroft nodded as if he knew this already. "Hmmm," he said.
"Alright. Was that your only question?" Greg asked with a soft laugh. He knew Mycroft better, knew the other boy must have some other things to add. It made him smile wider when he realized the fact that he did know something about Mycroft, something personal and it felt really good to know he was the only one with that kind of insight.
"No. Indeed it wasn't," Mycroft said, realizing what Greg had and just as please by it. "I want to know if you'd… that is to say, if you would find it acceptable to spend the winter holiday with me and my family." Mycroft was practically holding his breath now, waiting for an answer.
Greg lay there, frozen. Had Mycroft just…? He had. He really had. Oh my. This was… acceptable. More than that, Greg actually wanted to go. In his mind this was Mycroft's way of saying that he was going to be in Greg's life for a while, so the other boy might as well meet his family now rather than later. It showed the importance of Greg in Mycroft's life, made it all more real, cemented their budding relationship.
"Yes," Greg said, without hesitation. Because he wanted that. He needed that. And he honestly could think of no better way to spend his vacation. He'd rather be with Mycroft, always, if he was given the choice. That was just how he felt.
Mycroft looked relieved. Honestly, he hadn't been sure as to Greg's answer and now that he knew… he just felt so much better. "Thank goodness," he said. "Sherlock will be inviting John and by default, Harry and that means Irene is coming… and that means I can't leave Jim and Sebastian here or we won't have a house to come back to. So."
Greg raised an eyebrow. Really, they weren't going to have much of a holiday were they? Not with everyone (practically) going to Mycroft's. "Is that why you want me there?" Greg asked, able to joke with Mycroft more freely now. "So you don't need to put up with our irritating housemates?"
Mycroft smiled and leaned closer. "Yes and no," he admitted. "Of course I don't want to deal with them; but I also just really want you there."
Greg swallowed hard at the honesty in Mycroft's voice and he closed the gap between them, sealing their lips together in a kiss. It was almost like they were sealing the deal and Greg giggled against Mycroft's lips at the thought. The other boy pulled away, looking at Greg like he was a bit crazy.
"And what, may I ask, is so funny Gregory?"
Greg smiled. "I feel like I'm in Supernatural and just sold you my soul," he answered, making Mycroft groan. Really, he never should have introduced Greg to that show.
Between that and Dr. Who, Mycroft was in for it big time, he could tell. Somehow though, he didn't much care. So long as it was Greg making the cheesy references at him, he could handle it all.
"Greg?"
"Hey Mum," he responded, smiling a bit at her familiar voice coming over the phone. He really did love his mother, tried to keep the reports of bullying to a minimum so he wouldn't worry her. She was too good to know that her son wasn't the star athlete with all the friends that she thought he had. Though, if he considered everyone in Baker House his friend, then maybe she wasn't too far off.
"Glad to hear from you before the holiday love. You're Dad and I were just packing to head out and see Angelette and Duncan. How are you love?"
Angelette and Duncan: Greg's oldest sister and brother.
"Fine, fine. How are you?" He really needed to get the preliminaries out of the way. He had to ask her before he lost his nerve.
"Wonderful." There was silence on her end. "Gregory. Why did you really call, love?"
Oh, bless his mother, she really knew him. Then again, she'd given birth to him; of course she knew him and his mind.
He sighed. "Um, so yeah. I want to ask you something."
"I figured as much," she said with a huff of laughter. He heard her pull a chair out from their kitchen table and sit down. "Alright. I'm sitting now. Lay it on me. I won't fall if it's too shocking, rest assured."
He smiled. How could he have ever been too nervous to ask this wonderful, bubbly, understanding, warm woman? "So… I kind of have a plan for over the holiday."
He heard her going through some papers, bills and junk-mail most likely. "Oh? What kinds of plans?"
Here it was. His moment of truth. "Uh, well…A friend invited me over to their house for the holiday week." Greg was practically holding his breath.
Silence. Then: "Bloke or bird?" His parents knew, of course. He couldn't keep it a secret, not from them when they mattered so much.
"Bloke."
More silence. "Do you happen to like this bloke?"
Greg swallowed, glad that he was alone for the moment, slumped on his bed. He closed his eyes tight. "Very much."
"Romantically?" she clarified.
He knew he wouldn't get off that easy. "Yeah, Mum. Romantically."
"Mmmhmm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Does he… happen to share this feeling of romanticism?"
Greg bit back a laugh at her word choice and tone of voice. She was being silly now. "I do hope so. It seems like it at least; he's said as much." In fewer words, but Greg was starting to understand the Language of Mycroft.
"Oh? He's said?" She hummed again. "Have you by any chance, I don't know…snogged this bloke?" she asked slyly.
Greg shoved his face into a pillow. "Yephm," he mumbled.
"Speak up, can't hear you love," his mother said and he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Yes," he said a bit more clearly. "I've snogged the bloke." He couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped now.
"Oh, very good, very good," she said contemplatively. "He have a name?"
Greg sighed. He wondered when she was going to ask. "Mycroft. Mycroft Holmes."
"Mycroft? Well that's bloody odd. Is he English? Or is he one of those odd foreign exchange kids?"
"Mum!" he said reproachfully. "He's as English as they come. Reddish-brown hair, grey eyes. Tall and pale. Bit 'round 'bout the middle, but it's…cute." It really was Greg realized. He found Mycroft's tummy cute. Huh. He'd never have guessed that would be his thing, but alas. It was. "Bloody brilliant too. I swear he's going to be Prime Minister one day. Maybe more."
"I didn't ask for a description, love," she said jokingly.
"You were going to." He at least knew that much.
"I was. He sounds handsome. Is he nice?"
"Yes," he answered. His voice lowered a bit, got softer and honest. "He's… he's pretty wonderful Mum. I wish you could meet him, you're going to have to one of these days. He's…" Greg trailed off and gave a small sigh. "I wish I had words to describe him. He's polite and aloof on the outside, but he turns to much and gets really sweet in private. He' brutally honest and has this odd relationship with his brolly and- and… I don't think I ever saw him coming. I never expected him to show up and make everything… better." Greg felt very raw and open right then.
He heard a sharp intake of breath on his mother's end. "He sounds wonderful," she said softly, carefully. "Greg… how do you know this boy?"
He cleared his throat. "He's… my roommate." Can we say awkward everyone?
"He's your… your roommate? Oh. That's uh…" She seemed at a loss.
"Mum," he said a bit horrified as he realized exactly where he train of thought was going. "Jesus Mum no. We haven't… we haven't even… no. I've only just started to kiss him… what, last month? No. Oh, Mum, stop it."
He heard her laughing, maybe in relief, on the other end. "I didn't even say anything, Greg."
"You were thinking it. Very loud and very clear."
"I was, wasn't I?" She sighed. "Well… I don't see why not. You can go. Who else will be there?" Greg quickly gave her the rundown of the guest list and that both of Mycroft's parents were alright with them all going and that they would both be present at the house. She sounded a bit hesitant but stuck by her initial decision. "Two conditions though, Greg," she added when she had finally given her final consent.
"Oh? Alright. Let's hear it."
"One, you have to tell your Dad about young Mr. Holmes. He should know too, you know."
Greg nodded then remembered she was on the phone. "Right. I get that. Common courtesy that both your parents know you're…" He stopped for a moment. "Know you're dating someone." Oh god he'd said and now he couldn't take it back, could he?
Not that he even wanted to…
"My point exactly, my love," his mother agreed. "Secondly, and I can't believe I'm saying it, but you're seventeen and you're an adult now so: If anything… if anything happens, Greg, if Mr. Holmes gets the honor of deflowering my baby, then he'd better be using protection. That's all I ask."
Greg's eyes bugged from his head as he sat up quickly in bed, almost falling off the mattress in the process. "What? Mother," he said. "Please stop. Just started dating. Just. Started. Dating. If you think I'm that easy, woman, you have another thing coming." He heard her laugh on the other end. "I'm serious Mum, don't worry about that. Not now, anyways."
"Ok. I'll listen just this once. Still, if anything happens-"
"Yes, yes. Oh God, I get it. Please hand the phone to Dad. I don't think I can take another minute of this kind of talk. You're scarring me for life, woman."
She did hand it over with more laughter and Greg did go through the grueling process of explaining Mycroft and the nature of their new relationship to his father and when that was over and he'd finally wrangled permission to go from his father, he hung up his mobile and collapsed backwards onto his bed with a sigh of relief.
Well that was just tiresome.
"May I come in now?"
Greg sat up so quickly he actually did fall off his bed this time and he heard Mycroft's prim chuckle come from by the door. Looking up revealed that yes, Mycroft was standing in the doorway and yes, he had just witnessed Greg flailing and falling off his bed.
"I believe this is the appropriate time for me to say the phrase, 'Like a boss', is it not?" the other boy continued. Greg was in a fit of laughter at that, taking the hand Mycroft offered him to haul him up with. Once on his feet Greg easily turned the hand-hold into a hug, wrapping arms around Mycroft's neck, the other boy's hands going to his waist. They were still a bit tentative, but they'd been getting more and more comfortable with touching like this.
"This ok?" Greg asked anyway, huffing in laughter again as Mycroft gave him a look that said it was more than ok. That he wanted it. Greg really had to stop being so surprised when he realized that. It was happening more often than not. He was just going to have to get used to it. And wasn't that a pleasant thought?
"So, I'm all set for the holiday," Greg continued. He smiled at Mycroft's raised eyebrow.
"You're parents agreed then?"
Greg nodded. "It took a while to work them over but… yeah. They agreed."
"What exactly did you say?"
Greg looked at Mycroft hard. It was so much more difficult to admit to the boy in front of him what he had so easily been able to explain to his parents. Why that was, he didn't understand, but still. He had to try. He owed Mycroft that much.
"I told them that you were very special to me," he started, all the while watching Mycroft's face and its expression. As of now, it was very blank. But that was fine. Greg was mostly looking at his eyes. They gave everything about the other boy away. "I told them that you were a wonderful person, that I… that I liked you very much and that – that I really wanted to spend the holiday with you." Greg closed his eyes now. He was a coward. "I want this, us, to mean something Mycroft. I want to spend my time with you because I believe you are worth the time and you are worth the effort." Greg opened his eyes then, snuck a look at Mycroft. His face was still blank, but his eyes screamed disbelief and relief and a million other things that gave Greg the strength and courage to say what he said next. "I told them that we were dating."
The room was very quiet after that and Greg looked away from Mycroft's eyes again as he said it. Alright. So maybe he wasn't that brave after all.
He was actually feeling a bit terrible, a bit vulnerable, until Mycroft said in a whisper, "And are we, Gregory? Dating, that is?"
When Greg next looked into Mycroft's eyes, he saw hope and wanting and knew he was the only one besides Mycroft who would ever see that. He hoped his gaze, his face, his words would show Mycroft that he was feeling the exact same way and that the other teen wasn't alone in this at all. It hit Greg then, like a load of bricks, that if Mycroft wasn't alone, neither was he. It sunk in for the first time.
If he said yes to this, because really it was Mycroft asking him if that was what Greg wanted, then he wouldn't be alone anymore. Not really. Never again, so long as he had Mycroft. And Gregory really wanted that, oh so very much. Especially with Mycroft. Only with Mycroft. And that was a scary, wonderful, terrifying thought indeed.
"Yes," he finally said, swallowing. "Yes, I think we are dating. I would like that very, very much. I would be absolutely happy with that."
Mycroft rarely smiles. And when he does, the majority of the time, he doesn't mean it. This time though, the action was brutally honest, showing just a hint of pearly-white teeth and bubble-gum pink gums and a flash of red tongue as he spoke again.
"Then there is nothing I would rather do, Gregory, than make you absolutely happy and with that, I must add, if that is what it takes. I find that I shall be rather happy as well," he said, that goofy smile still in place.
In the current position they were in, a kiss could easily be given and taken, and with much skill and practice and meaning behind it too. Mycroft and Greg both would be fools if they didn't use that to their advantage.
Needless to say, neither boy was a fool, and take advantage of their position they did.
So... hope that wasn't too bad. I'm sorry this is going down the loo. Hurumph. I'mma have to step it up a bit, yes? Yes. Right. Ok. Next chapter: X-MAs at Holmes Manor with... well, the important people of Baker House, I guess.
Let's see how that goes, shall we?
Until then, REVIEW please.
And if you have gift ideas for the various characters to give each other...? And you want to share in your review...? I just might put it in and credit you! (I probably most likely definitely will, so you have absolutely nothing to lose. Remember: people get more than one gift at Christmas)
So. There. Gute nacht, mein lieben.
And if you don't know what ^THAT^ means I suggest you go to Google translate and turn it from German to English! It's nice actually. So don't worry if you don't get it.
REVIEW!
