Chapter Eleven: Afternoon Fun

Beta: chasingriver

Mycroft paid for their food and Greg dropped into his seat, dragging the tray towards him and quickly grabbing his burger. He ripped into it while simultaneously guzzling down some Coke, shoving chips into his mouth, and trying to find the sauce.

Mycroft watched with a raised eyebrow as Greg devoured his Quarter Pounder in what looked like five bites before moving on to the chicken nuggets.

'What?' Greg said when he realised he was being watched.

'Do you always eat like this?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg smiled and said, 'Well, I skipped breakfast, so fuck manners.'

Mycroft chuckled and started picking at the fries, watching Greg eat. A middle-aged woman walked past their table and tutted audibly- both at their clothing and the way Greg was eating- and Greg poked his tongue out, making the woman huff and storm away.

'Seriously, what'd she think, I was gonna attack her 'cause I wear black?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft shrugged. 'The human mind is a complex thing.'

'It ain't,' Greg said. 'People are just fucking stupid.'

'It isn't not it ain't,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'I keep forgetting you're still a posh fuck.'

'There's nothing wrong with speaking proper English,' Mycroft said and kicked Greg under the table.

The other boy yelped and Mycroft snickered. 'Prick,' Greg shot at him before cramming two chicken nuggets in his mouth and chewing loudly.

'You're a disgusting pig, do you know that?' Mycroft said.

Greg opened his mouth to show Mycroft his chewed food and Mycroft kicked him again. Greg grinned and swallowed his mouthful before grabbing at some more nuggets.

Greg's mobile buzzed in his pocket and Mycroft watched as the teen dug around for it for a few seconds before pulling it out.

'Fucking Dimmock,' Greg grunted as he opened the message;

Gonna explain what the fuck happened today?

Greg sighed and texted back, Mycroft watching him.

Jesus, got something up your arse, Dimmo? Just fucking wait.

'Problem?' Mycroft asked.

'Nah, just Dimmock being a wanker,' Greg said.

'Why do you call him Dimmock?' Mycroft queried.

Greg scratched at his head and said, 'Well, he hates being called Michael, dunno why. I've known him as Dimmo my entire life.'

'How long have you known him?'

'Um... well, since we were, like, four,' Greg answered. 'He lives a few streets away so we used to fuck around when we were little, and he was the first person I came out to. He was real supportive, always has been.'

'Weren't you worried about ruining your friendship by sleeping together?' Mycroft asked.

Greg smiled at the sudden game of Twenty Questions that Mycroft seemed to have started. 'Nah... well, a little,' he answered honestly. 'Dimmo admitted to me that he was feeling all funny around some blokes, me included, and I remembered feeling that when I hit puberty.

'So I talked to him about it and he asked if he could, you know, kiss me. So we did, and that was nice, and then he asked if he could fuck me; he wanted to do it with someone he trusted in case it didn't work out.'

Greg leaned back, dipping a nugget into his sauce and shoving it into his mouth before continuing. 'I said no at first, I didn't want it to fuck everything up, like you said. But eventually he wore me down and we slept together.'

'What happened then?'

'Why all the questions?'

'I'm curious,' Mycroft shrugged.

Greg snorted but said, 'Well, he said it was fantastic, and I said that was good, and he said he still liked girls as well, and I said that was disgusting, and he wanted to know if we could do it again, and I said he was hot and all, but the sex was fine, not amazing, so no.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'And he just accepted that?'

'He had to,' Greg shrugged. 'He was a bit hurt at first until I told him that's how I feel about every guy I've shagged; I get off, but it's nothing spectacular. Eventually he calmed down and we're as close as we've ever been.'

Mycroft was silent, bright blue eyes roaming over Greg slowly, as if looking for something. Greg just ate, leaving Mycroft to deduce whatever he was looking for. Eventually Mycroft looked away and picked at his fries.

Greg's phone buzzed, this time with the ringtone.

I'm the son of rage and love! The Jesus of Suburbia! The bible of, none of the above, on a steady diet of...

Greg answered, cutting Billie Joe Armstrong off and making Mycroft look up at him. 'What?' he demanded, having already glanced at the caller ID.

'I love you too,' Dimmock snorted.

'What part of 'just fucking wait', didn't you understand?'

'The just and wait parts,' Dimmock said. 'I always understand fucking.'

Greg rolled his eyes and leaned back, Mycroft watching him. 'Is there a reason you're so interested in my private life?'

'Well fuck, let me think about that question for a goddamn second,' Dimmock mused and made a point to hum loudly. 'Oh, that's right; you took off on your bike with Mycroft fucking Holmes on the back, and you want me to bloody wait?'

'Jesus Christ, Dimmock, you're not my boyfriend or my mother,' Greg said.

'And what would Maggie Lestrade say if she found out her son is skiving school with Mycroft Holmes?'

'Fuck you,' Greg said and Dimmock laughed.

'I'm not going to last period, Mrs Mallen is a freakin' bitch,' Dimmock said, ignoring Greg's insult. 'Come over to my place, my old man's at some fucking meeting with your boyfriend's dad.'

Greg scowled and glanced at Mycroft, who was lazily stirring a chip in Greg's sauce. Greg turned away from him and whispered, 'He's not my boyfriend.'

'Not yet,' Dimmock retorted. 'But you totally want to be Mycroft Holmes' girlfriend, don't ya?'

'Why the fuck am I friends with you?' Greg demanded.

'I'm loveable,' Dimmock said. 'Come on, you fucker, come over.'

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes, glancing at Mycroft again. 'If I do, you can't say any of that... that shit, alright?'

'If you come over, I promise not to mention to Mycroft Holmes that you fancy him.'

'I don't!' Greg shouted, drawing attention to him and Mycroft from the other people eating.

Dimmock just laughed.

'Fuck you. I'll be there in an hour, alright?'

'Your boyfriend's welcome to come,' Dimmock replied and hung up before Greg could shout at him again.

Greg fumed as he stuffed his mobile back into his jeans. He looked up to see Mycroft licking a chip, one eyebrow raised. Greg gulped and said, 'Erm... fancy heading over to Dimmock's?'

{oOo}

Greg parked in Dimmock's driveway and Mycroft pulled himself off the bike first, tugging Greg's spare helmet off and running a hand through his hair.

'Erm, Mycroft?' Greg said after he'd pulled his own helmet off.

'Mm?'

'Just... don't listen to anything Dimmo says, okay?' Greg said.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg chewed on his bottom lip. He really, really didn't want Dimmock mouthing off that he liked Mycroft. It was bad enough that Greg acted like a fucking high-school girl with a crush around the other boy; he so didn't need Dimmock throwing his two-cents in and making Mycroft think that Greg really liked him.

Well, Greg did like him, just not in a like-like way... or something.

'Fuck,' Greg groaned, getting off his bike and hanging his helmet off the handlebars.

'You're talking to yourself,' Mycroft mused.

'I'm a complicated fucking person,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft chuckled and put the spare helmet on the other handlebar. 'Don't listen to Michael Dimmock; check.'

'Good,' Greg smiled and led the way up the driveway. He knocked on the front door and Dimmock answered a minute later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

He looked between Greg and Mycroft for a few seconds before stepping back and saying, 'Gregory, lovely to see you.'

'Fuck off, wanker,' Greg snapped, walking into the house with Mycroft trailing behind him.

Dimmock snorted and led the other two to his bedroom, shutting the door when they entered. Greg immediately flopped onto the bed, back pressed to the wall and legs stretched before him, while Mycroft stood in the middle of the room, blue eyes roaming over the white walls, band posters, and various crap Dimmock had left lying around.

Soon he'd turned to look at Dimmock, who was staring at him openly. He inclined an eyebrow and Dimmock said, 'Yeah, so... what the fuck's with this?'

Mycroft just smiled and turned his back on Dimmock. Dimmock looked around him, raising his eyebrows at Greg, who smirked. Greg got a weird sense of satisfaction knowing that Mycroft had told him the truth behind the whole "punk-rocker" look, while others like Dimmock were left in the dark.

'So,' Dimmock said when he realised Mycroft wasn't going to answer him. 'What'd you two get up to today?'

'Stuff,' Greg answered enigmatically while Mycroft sat on the bed. He flipped himself back, legs dangling over the end of Dimmock's bed, while he pushed his head into Greg's lap and got comfortable. Greg blinked down at him and Dimmock smirked at the look in his best friend's eyes.

'Stuff, huh?' Dimmock asked, sitting on the chair before his desk.

'Yeah, stuff,' Greg scowled. 'Why, you want a fucking detailed description?'

'Well, yeah, that'd be fucking spectacular,' Dimmock said, folding his arms. 'Just what the fuck are you two doing together?'

'Whatever we want,' Mycroft said, yawning and scratching at his head.

'So you're... what, fucking?' Dimmock asked. 'Dating, best buddies, what?'

'Is it any of your business?' Mycroft replied.

'Well, Greg is my best friend,' Dimmock said. 'So, you know, just looking out for him.'

Mycroft snorted while Greg said, 'Bull-fucking-shit. You're just hanging to know what's going on with Mycroft.'

'Well duh,' Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'One minute he's a posh tit and the next he's... hmm, what did you say, Greg?' He had an evil glint in his eyes and Greg scowled at him. 'Oh, yeah,' Dimmock continued. 'Sex-on-legs.'

Mycroft's blue eyes flicked up to Greg, who was blushing darkly and glaring at Dimmock.

'We're doing what we're doing, that's all you need to know,' Mycroft said, the heels of his shoes banging against the end of the bed. 'Get used to seeing us together.'

'Right...' Dimmock said.

'And not a word, Michael,' Mycroft smiled, the threat clear in his tone.

Dimmock held his hands up as Greg snickered. 'I heard you the first fucking time.'

Greg stuck his finger up at Dimmock before grabbing one of the magazines on the bedside table, leaning back and flipping through it. Mycroft just stayed staring at the ceiling, blue eyes glazed over as his feet thumped rhythmically against the bed.

Dimmock was trying to get over just how fucking odd it was seeing Mycroft Holmes dressed like... well, like Greg. And then there was the way Greg and Mycroft were acting around each other; like they'd always been best mates, or boyfriends, or just... Dimmock had no idea. There was a familiarity they were both expressing that Dimmock had never seen from Greg before. They just... fit.

And, of course, Greg was ignoring the fact that he totally fancied Mycroft Holmes. Dimmock could see it in his eyes, his body language, and yet Greg seemed to be purposely ignoring it.

Well, more fun for Dimmock. This way he could tease Greg mercilessly until the other teen fucking admitted how he felt. And then, of course, Dimmock would tease him some more.

'You know, I asked you over here to actually talk,' Dimmock said. 'Not act like enigmatic pricks.'

'Well tough shit, Dimmo,' Greg said.

Dimmock shook his head and grabbed his PSP, switching it on and leaning back. Greg continued to flick through the magazine and Mycroft just stared at the ceiling.

'Gregory?' Mycroft said after a few minutes of silence.

'Mm?' Greg said without looking down at him.

'How did you come out to your mother?'

Greg blinked, turning away from the mag to look at Mycroft. 'What?'

'How did you tell her that you're gay?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh,' Greg said, putting the magazine aside. Dimmock looked over at them. 'Well... I just told her.'

'That's all?' Mycroft asked. 'You weren't worried about how she'd react?'

'Well... I've known I was gay since I was fourteen, and I've always been comfortable with who I am. So I just sat down one morning and told her.'

'What did she say?' Mycroft asked.

'She was a bit upset she'd never get a grandkid,' Greg admitted, 'though I reminded her I could adopt or something.' Mycroft smiled. 'Other than that, she was fine; said it didn't change who I was, I was still her little boy.' He shrugged.

'Hmm,' Mycroft mused, chipping at his nail polish.

'Why?' Greg asked.

'I'm just wondering how my mother and father will react when I decide to come out,' Mycroft said.

'Maybe like my dad,' Dimmock said, Mycroft looking at him. 'Completely freaked the fuck out, my old man.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Went absolutely ape-fucking-shit, I've never seen him that pissed off before.'

'He blamed Greg,' Dimmock told Mycroft, 'thought Greg had turned me gay. Didn't help when Greg fucking told him we'd shagged.'

'Well he asked how you knew you were bi if you'd never shagged a bloke,' Greg said. 'I thought I was helping.'

'Oh, yeah,' Dimmock scowled, 'saying, 'Well he has been with a bloke, Mr Dimmock; he fucked me', is really bloody helpful, Greg. That's really what every father wants to hear.'

Greg grinned and Mycroft chuckled, Dimmock rolling his eyes and settling back with his PSP.

'Come on, your dad forgave me eventually,' Greg said. 'You know, after a year of wanting to fucking kill me.'

'Well you took his little boy's virginity,' Dimmock said.

'You're such a fucking girl,' Greg snorted.

Dimmock threw a pillow at him, and Mycroft rolled clear to avoid getting hit.

'Well fine, if you're gonna be like that, Dimmo, I'll just find something else to do,' Greg said, looking at Mycroft.

'What?' Mycroft asked.

Greg grinned before launching himself forward, catching Mycroft by surprise and crushing their lips together. Mycroft fell heavily against the bed and gasped as Greg climbed atop him. Greg took advantage and snaked his tongue into Mycroft's mouth, stroking and coaxing his own to come out and play.

'Oi, fuck off,' Dimmock said when Mycroft wound his arms around Greg's neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. Greg flipped Dimmock off without shifting away from Mycroft and Dimmock scowled. 'Stop fucking snogging on my bed, you cunts!'

The other two teenagers ignored him and Dimmock wondered if he should hose them down. He didn't fancy seeing Mycroft and Greg shag on his bed, and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave them alone.

There were wet sucking sounds now, and Dimmock sighed, trying not to look up (though he very much wanted to, he was in a relationship, thank you very much).

Suddenly Mycroft rolled them, straddling Greg's lap and smirking down at him.

'You're such a fucking prick,' Greg breathed.

'You love it,' Mycroft teased before leaning down, taking Greg's bottom lip between his teeth and dragging back. Greg moaned loudly and when Mycroft let him go, he pulled the taller boy down to snog him again.

'Un-fucking-believable,' Dimmock sighed.

Mycroft and Greg continued to make out, pinching and slapping each other as they each tried to lead the kiss. The power kept shifting- one minute Mycroft would be attacking Greg's neck, Greg moaning, and the next Mycroft would be on his back with Greg rutting hard against him.

Dimmock ignored them as best he could- though glanced up occasionally just to take in the sight of Mycroft Holmes sucking on Greg's tongue- until it really looked like the two were going to fuck each other right there.

'Oi, take it someplace else,' Dimmock shouted.

'You're the one who told me to come over,' Greg grunted as he licked and nipped at Mycroft's ear. 'If you hadn't, we'd be doing this somewhere else.'

Dimmock opened his mouth to reply when his bedroom door burst open, effectively cutting him off and making him pale. His dad, Ryan Dimmock, walked into the room with a stack of mail, and stopped dead when he saw the couple snogging on the bed.

'Oh dear Lord,' Mr Dimmock scowled.

Greg quickly pulled away and grinned up at Mr Dimmock before leaping to his feet. Mycroft blinked and sat up, rubbing his swollen lips and looking at the older man.

'Hello, sir,' Greg beamed widely, voice upbeat and absolutely dripping with brightness.

Mr Dimmock scowled. 'Get out, Gregory.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg smirked. 'Should I take him with me?' He jerked at thumb at Mycroft, who was smiling slightly. 'I can leave him here, maybe Michael wants a turn-'

'Just get out!' Mr Dimmock shouted.

'Yes, sir,' Greg repeated and linked his fingers with Mycroft's. 'Seeya, Dimmo!' he called before dragging Mycroft from the house.

Dimmock watched them leave before turning to his dad, mentally preparing himself for the tongue-lashing.

{oOo}

'That was awkward,' Mycroft hummed as they stepped out of the house.

'Dimmo's dad's a fuckwit, he likes to ignore the gay part of his son,' Greg said. 'I like to rub my gayness in his face every chance I get.'

'Yes, well I don't think you could get any gayer than making out with a guy in Dimmock's bedroom,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Oh, I dunno,' Greg smirked. 'We coulda fucked.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he and Greg reached the latter's bike. Greg straddled the machine and grabbed his helmet, Mycroft doing the same.

'You gotta be home anytime soon?' Greg asked.

'I should probably go soon,' Mycroft said, checking his watch.

'Where'd you park your car?'

'At John Watson's house.'

'I'll give you a lift, just point the way,' Greg said. Mycroft kissed his neck and Greg tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as he turned his bike on.

{oOo}

Greg pulled up just outside John Watson's, spotting Mycroft's jaguar parked just behind a red BMW. Mycroft climbed off the bike and he and Greg both took their helmets off.

'Keep it,' Greg said when Mycroft tried to give his spare one back. 'This way you'll be prepared when you wanna fucking jump me at school.'

Mycroft snorted and brushed a hand through his hair, Greg watching.

'So...' Greg finally said, breaking the silence that had descended. 'I guess we'll go back to not talking at school?'

Mycroft shrugged and pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one quickly. 'I suppose we could make out in the library.'

Greg swallowed thickly at the images that sprang forth and Mycroft smirked. 'Erm, yeah,' Greg said, 'that sounds... good.'

'As I've said before, Gregory, I don't care what people think of me,' Mycroft said. 'If you want to be seen in school with me, fine. If not, I couldn't give two shits.'

'I don't care what people say,' Greg said.

'Even if they tease you for hanging out with posh Mycroft Holmes?' Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow. When Greg shook his head, Mycroft smirked. 'I guess we'll see.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft paused before leaning down, pressing his lips to Greg's in a chaste kiss. Greg grabbed Mycroft by the hair to deepen it, and Mycroft chuckled against his lips. When they broke apart Greg's face was flushed, Mycroft's own cheeks dusted pink.

Mycroft smiled and kissed him quickly before saying, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yeah,' Greg repeated, watching as Mycroft walked to his car, Greg's spare helmet tucked under his arm. Greg shook his head and re-started his bike, tugging his helmet back on and pulling out onto the road.

He could feel Mycroft's eyes on him as he rode away.