Chapter Thirty-Seven: Life Is Like A Boat

Beta: chasingriver

Chapter Title: Life Is Like A Boat by Rie Fu

Author's Note: For those of you who don't know the song, I suggest you look it up and listen to it. It's one of my favourites. Warning though, it goes between Japanese and English, but it's still a great song.

{Dreamer}

Greg was woken from a fitful sleep by a banging on his bedroom window. He jolted awake, snorting as he did and wiping away drool, and turned to try and see what had woken him.

It took him at least a minute to wake up properly and realise someone was trying to climb through his bedroom window. He sighed, figuring it was Dimmock, and slid from bed. He stumbled across to his window, scrubbing away the last remnants of sleep, and pushed his bedroom window open.

'Mycroft?' he spluttered, eyes widening. The other boy was wearing tight red jeans, a black button-up shirt, and black chucks. He had a few leather bands around his neck and wrists, and thick black eyeliner highlighted his blue eyes, lids smudged with dark red eyeshadow.

Mycroft grinned lopsidedly at him, and it didn't take Greg long to realise the other teenager was drunk. He hurried to lean through the window when Mycroft tried to climb through, and after a lot of grunting, swearing, and giggling- that was from Mycroft- Greg got the red-head into his bedroom.

He closed his bedroom window part way and when he turned it was to see Mycroft swaying dangerously, staring around Greg's room.

'Mycroft, what are you doing here?' Greg asked, stepping closer. He didn't want to just reach out and touch Mycroft, not after earlier at the movies. He moved just close enough to grab Mycroft if the other teen fell.

'Went to... party,' Mycroft said, voice thick and speech slurred. Luckily Greg had dealt with many drunk teenagers, and a drunk Mycroft, so he got what the other boy was saying.

'You went to Matt Sanders'?' Greg asked. When Mycroft nodded he said, 'You didn't drive, did you?'

Mycroft snorted and shook his head, stumbling after he did and leaning heavily against Greg. He giggled and stuttered, 'N-No, no d-drivin'...'

'Okay,' Greg said. 'What are you doing here?'

'Guy,' Mycroft murmured, 'a guy... h-hit on me.'

Greg felt his heart skip a beat and bile rise in his throat. He could picture it; Mycroft and some hot guy, kissing and touching each other. It made anger surge through his gut and his fingers curled into fists.

'T-touched... mee,' Mycroft slurred, shaking his head again. Greg once more steadied him. 'Kissed me,' he mumbled.

'What?' Greg demanded.

'Wasn' you,' Mycroft grunted. 'Not y-you, not you, it... it w-wasn't...'

'Yeah, he wasn't me,' Greg cut in, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He pulled Mycroft around until they were face-to-face. 'Why are you telling me this?'

Mycroft blinked, his eyes roaming over Greg's face, trying to focus. 'He... w-wasn't you,' he said.

'I know, you've said that,' Greg said.

'I w-wanted it... be-be you...' Mycroft slurred.

Greg stared. 'What?'

'I w-wanted... want... y-you,' Mycroft murmured. He reached out, stroking a hand along Greg's stomach. 'Al-always... you...'

'You... you want me?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded. 'Even after today?'

Suddenly Mycroft stumbled back and Greg went with him, keep the red-head standing.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft slurred, sounding like he was in pain. 'I'm s-so sorry.'

'About what?' Greg asked. Mycroft was swaying more than before and Greg made him sit on the bed.

'Today,' Mycroft said, practically whimpering, 'I didn't mean to-to push you a-away, I'm sorry.'

'It's okay, Mycroft, you didn't do anything wrong.'

Suddenly Mycroft grabbed Greg's arms and tugged him forward, making Greg stumble and lean against him. 'Please don't leave,' Mycroft begged. 'I'll do anything, j-just d-don't...'

'Hey, hey,' Greg said, grabbing Mycroft by the chin and making the auburn-haired teen look at him. 'I'm not going anywhere, Mycroft, okay?'

Mycroft stared at him.

'I'm not going anywhere,' Greg repeated.

'Promise?' Mycroft whispered.

Greg nodded. 'I promise.' He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, his heart skipping a beat when Mycroft kissed back. He felt so... so complete, like nothing bad could ever happen now that Mycroft was back with him.

His kisses turned hard and he pushed Mycroft back, the younger teen falling onto his back and grunting when Greg sat on his lap. They both panted and grunted as they rutted against each other, and Greg moaned as his fingers found Mycroft's belt, quickly pulling at the buckle.

'N-No,' Mycroft whimpered, so softly that Greg didn't hear him. Mycroft grabbed Greg's hands and squeezed hard before snarling, 'No!'

Greg stopped immediately and pulled back, sitting straight and looking down at Mycroft. 'What's wrong?'

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking so... defeated, that Greg felt his heart skip a beat. 'I'm tired, Greg,' Mycroft mumbled, and Greg didn't think he meant generally needing sleep.

'Okay,' Greg said, 'um... you can stay here if you want.' Mycroft eyed him wearily and Greg said, 'Just sleep. I'll keep my hands to myself, honest.'

Mycroft continued to stare at him before finally nodding. Greg helped him off the bed and drew the blankets back while Mycroft struggled to take his shoes off. Greg had to help him with that too and was soon pushing Mycroft onto the bed.

Greg checked to make sure his chair was still against the door before climbing in after him. He drew the covers back up and Mycroft snuggled into his side, Greg watching him carefully.

Silence descended, Mycroft with his eyes closed and Greg shuffling to get comfortable. After a few minutes Greg glanced down at the drunk, half-asleep teenager curled up beside him. He chewed on his lip for a minute before saying, 'Mycroft?'

'Hnn...'

'Can... can I ask you something?' Greg said.

'Mm, 'f you wan',' Mycroft slurred.

Greg wet his lips before saying, 'Why haven't we had sex yet?' When Mycroft didn't answer, he added, 'Don't get me wrong, I love what we're doing together, and I like hanging out with you. But... well, with your reputation, and mine, I was just wonderin' why... why we haven't had... you know, penetrative sex.'

Mycroft still remained silent and Greg shifted on the bed, looking down at him. His eyes were closed, hiding the bright blue colour that Greg loved. His lips were slightly parted and his ginger-brown hair was curling over his forehead.

Figuring Mycroft had fallen asleep, Greg sighed and settled back.

'I like you,' Mycroft mumbled.

Greg jolted. 'What?'

'I like you, Greg,' Mycroft mumbled again, nuzzling further into Greg's shoulder.

'You... you like me?' Greg asked. Mycroft hummed and nodded. 'Um... like, you fancy me?' Greg asked to clarify.

'Mm, I fancy you,' Mycroft whispered with a slight nod. 'Have for... y-years...'

Greg's mouth dropped open. Mycroft... fancied him?

'So...'

'Don't wanna be just... just a... shag,' Mycroft muttered drunkenly. 'D-Don't want you to... move... move on,' Mycroft said. 'Like you too... much...'

Mycroft trailed off and a soft snore rumbled against Greg's arm as the other teen fell asleep. Greg was frozen, staring at Mycroft, eyes wide. Mycroft... liked him? Him, Gregory Lestrade?

Greg finally leaned back, making sure not to disturb Mycroft. Well, that certainly explained a lot; like why Mycroft had suddenly decided to show Greg who he really was, why Mycroft was fine with snogging a bloke who'd been nothing but a prick to him for two years, and also why Mycroft wanted to take things slow.

He was worried Greg would lose interest and leave. Or Greg would finally get a shag and move on, already looking for the next hot body. Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was what he got for shagging random blokes.

But couldn't Mycroft see that Greg didn't want random blokes? He wanted him, Mycroft, now and... forever. Greg bit his lip, glancing down at Mycroft again. Greg had slept around because no one was worth more than a shag, maybe two.

But Mycroft... Mycroft had occupied Greg's mind since that first night he'd seen the real Mycroft, the one who wore leather trousers and make-up. Ever since then Greg hadn't gone more than a few hours without thinking about Mycroft.

Greg hesitated before leaning down and pressing his lips to Mycroft's forehead. Mycroft smiled in his sleep and snuggled closer to Greg, Greg shuffling a bit until he was looking at Mycroft's closed eyes.

He thought about what Mycroft had said, and everything that had happened since first setting eyes on the real Mycroft.

He also thought about his own feelings, and everything his mum, Dimmock and Molly had been saying to him for weeks.

Greg sighed. Dimmock was right, he thought before trying to get some sleep. Mycroft was still there, even when he closed his eyes. And he couldn't help but smile slightly.

He liked Mycroft.

And Mycroft liked him too.

{oOo}

Greg was woken by a low groaning sound followed by a whimper. Something beside him moved and an elbow to the gut had him sitting up and wincing, his duvet falling to bunch around his waist as he grunted in pain.

He rubbed his eyes viciously, trying to push away the last remnants of sleep, and turned. Mycroft was trying to get up- or having a seizure, Greg didn't know. He had one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other pressed hard against the mattress as he tried to pull himself up-right.

'Mycroft?'

Mycroft jolted and turned, groaning as he did. His face was flushed, his hair all over the place, and he looked like he was going to be violently ill. Remembering how drunk Mycroft had been the previous night, Greg thought that was a real possibility.

'You okay?' Greg asked, sitting up straighter.

'Stomach...' Mycroft moaned, 'hurts... pain... sick...'

'Yeah, hangovers'll do that to ya,' Greg yawned. 'Come on.' He climbed out of bed and helped Mycroft up. He checked the time on his alarm and saw that it was almost 6 am; Maggie wouldn't be home till nine, so Greg had time to get Mycroft cleaned up.

The red-head allowed Greg to get him standing and together they shuffled out of Greg's bedroom and down the hallway. Greg pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and tugged Mycroft in.

Mycroft went straight to the sink and grappled with the taps, eventually giving up and looking at Greg. Greg chuckled and Mycroft gave him a glare, but looked away in order to wash his mouth out and splash his face.

When Mycroft groaned again Greg asked, 'Wanna have a shower?' Mycroft nodded weakly. 'Good, 'cause you smell like shit.' Mycroft grunted and Greg continued, 'I'm not that much bigger than you, you can borrow some clothes.'

Mycroft nodded again and Greg went to the shower. He pushed the curtain aside and turned the taps on, testing the water with his hand before pulling back. He went to leave but Mycroft caught his wrist, making the brunette look at him.

'Thank you,' Mycroft mumbled.

'No worries,' Greg said with a smile. 'I'll make some coffee and you should have toast.' Mycroft groaned at the thought of food and Greg chuckled. 'Hey, it's either that or Maccas cheeseburgers; seriously, Maccas is the best hangover food.'

'Mmf,' Mycroft grunted.

'Actually, I might go get some sausage McMuffins; you want any?'

Mycroft made a waving motion with one hand- Greg took it as a yes- and started stripping. Greg left him to it and went back to his room to get dressed.

{oOo}

When Greg got back- two coffees balanced in one hand and a bag of greasy food in the other- Mycroft was sitting at the older teen's desk. He had a large blue towel wrapped around his waist and two white pills sitting beside his hand.

He looked up when Greg walked in and said, 'Black, two sugars?'

'Yup,' Greg nodded. He'd hung around Mycroft long enough to know how the other teen took his coffee. 'And some muffins and hashbrowns.'

'Don't care,' Mycroft growled, grabbing the coffee Greg indicated. He popped the pills into his mouth and took a sip, groaning as the bitter liquid hit his tongue.

'You gotta eat, Mycroft,' Greg said, putting the food and his own coffee on the desk. 'And get dressed.' He paused, eyes roaming over the other boy. 'Though I kinda like you sittin' around my room half naked.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes but a small smile was playing on his face. They were silent as Greg grabbed a pair of black jeans, a blue-striped polo shirt, and a white t-shirt. Most of his better shirts were dirty, so Mycroft would just have to do. Besides, if Mycroft had a problem with the shirt, he could wear a jacket.

Mycroft took the clothes without fuss and quickly dressed, pulling on his own boxers while he did. Greg tried not to stare but really, there was a hot guy getting naked in his room; what was he supposed to do?

'Pervert,' Mycroft muttered.

'Exhibitionist,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. He grabbed his coffee and Greg handed him a muffin. Mycroft wrinkled his nose but Greg continued to stare, so he eventually took it and peeled the wrapper open.

'How can something so small hold so much oil?' Mycroft mused.

'Dummo,' Greg mumbled through a mouthful of his own muffin, grinning when Mycroft glared at him. They ate in silence- Greg devouring two muffins and two hashbrowns while Mycroft picked at his own.

Greg kept glancing at Mycroft from the corner of his eye, wondering if he should bring up what they'd talked about last night. Either Mycroft remembered and didn't want to talk about it, or he'd been so drunk his mind had erased it.

'Where's your mother?' Mycroft asked, seeming to just realise that he and Greg were alone in the house.

'Took the night shift at the hospital,' Greg said, playing with the lid on his coffee cup. 'Won't be home till... nine or ten, depends when she gets outta there. Sometimes she stays longer; sleeps in the doctor's lounge, but she'll call if they need her longer.'

'Right,' Mycroft said. 'She works hard.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Always has. Missed a lot of my childhood, you know; football and cricket games, parent-teacher nights, shit like that. But I'm used to it. Besides, she had to work to pay for food and stuff.'

Mycroft nodded slowly before saying, 'Gregory, what happened to your father?'

Greg jolted, almost choking on the sip of coffee he'd just swallowed. He coughed and bashed his fist against his chest, his other hand slamming his coffee onto his desk.

When he could breathe properly he asked, 'W-What?'

'I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry,' Mycroft said, looking worried over Greg's reaction. He sat poised on the edge of Greg's bed, like he was ready to run. 'I've just never heard you talk about him.'

'Yeah, well, not much to talk about,' Greg coughed. He downed some of his coffee and cleared his throat. 'My old man walked out when I was four. Mum picked me up from Dimmock's, we got home, and there was a note from him, sayin' he'd taken off. His stuff was gone, all the money he and Mum had saved. He didn't wanna be a dad, didn't wanna stay with Mum, so he took off; he just... left.'

He shrugged lightly and Mycroft said, 'I'm sorry.'

'Doesn't matter,' Greg said, looking up at the other teenager. 'I didn't know him long enough to miss him.'

'But you do,' Mycroft said.

Greg chuckled. 'I miss the thought of a dad, you know? Having someone to go to games with, someone to talk to about being a man, that kind of stuff. But Mum's been both parents all my life.'

Mycroft nodded.

'What brought this on?' Greg asked.

'I don't know,' Mycroft said. 'I was just thinking about my father and realised I knew nothing about yours.'

'Yeah, well... now you know,' Greg shrugged. He finished off his coffee and threw the empty cup in his bin along with Mycroft's. 'So...' Greg hummed.

'I'm sorry about last night,' Mycroft cut in. 'I don't remember how drunk I was but I'm sure I embarrassed myself.'

'Um... just a little bit,' Greg said, holding his thumb and index finger close together. 'But not a lot; nothing I haven't seen and done before.'

'Thank you for letting me stay here, and getting me breakfast,' Mycroft smiled. 'I owe you.'

'You can make it up to me; buy me breakfast another day,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and ran a hand over his face.

'Feel any better?' Greg asked.

'A little bit; the coffee definitely helped, but I need another one,' Mycroft said, rolling his neck. 'And I need to get home and make sure Mrs Hudson hasn't called the police looking for me.'

'She cares about you,' Greg said.

'Yes,' Mycroft said, a small smile playing at his lips. 'She really does, doesn't she?'

It made Greg angry, knowing that Mycroft had never really had an adult who cared about him. It was clear Mr and Mrs Holmes cared little for their sons; the only adults who seemed to give a crap were Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson.

'Right,' Greg said. 'So, um...'

'Spend the day with me?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

Greg blinked. 'What?'

'I was thinking... there's this spot I want to show you, near Artemis Catholic School. We can maybe spend some time at my place before getting some lunch and heading out.'

Greg hesitated, thinking about what Mycroft had accidently let slip the night before. He knew they had to talk about it; well, Greg had to talk about how he felt. Because he knew that Mycroft liked him, but Mycroft didn't know that Greg felt the same way. And Greg had to say something before Mycroft left permanently.

But first, he needed some advice.

'Um... yeah,' Greg nodded, 'I just gotta go see Dimmo about something. Can I meet you somewhere?'

Mycroft blinked before smiling. 'Leave your bike at Dimmock's, I'll pick you up there after I stop home.'

'M'kay,' Greg smiled. They both stood and Greg pressed a soft kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'See you in... two hours?'

Mycroft nodded and, after one last kiss, grabbed his stuff and left.

{oOo}

Greg left a note for his mum and headed over to Dimmock's. The other teenager had just finished washing his car and turned as Greg pulled up, parking his bike beside the BMW.

'Hey...' Dimmock said slowly.

'Hey,' Greg echoed.

The two stood staring at each other until Greg started rubbing his bruised and scabbed knuckles.

'Um... about yesterday-' Dimmock began, only for Greg to cut in.

'S'my fault,' he said gruffly, staring at the ground. 'I was just... m'sorry, okay?'

'Okay...'

'I... can I explain everything?' Greg asked. 'Can we just talk?'

Dimmock nodded and turned the hose off, wiping his hands on his jeans. He led Greg out the back and the two sat on the swingset the Dimmocks had owned since Greg and Dimmock were four. Greg lit a cigarette and Dimmock did the same, the two falling into silence as they stared across the yard.

'Dimmo...?'

'Mm?'

Greg chewed on his lip, smoke curling around his face. 'Um... you know all that shit you've been saying to me?'

'I say a lot of fucked up stuff, you'll have to be more specific,' Dimmock said with a smile.

Greg smiled back weakly before saying, 'Well... all that shit about... about me liking Mycroft...'

Dimmock turned to face him, his light brown eyes settling on Greg's darker ones.

'Dimmo?'

'Yeah, I know what I've been saying,' Dimmock said. 'Why?'

'Um...' Greg trailed off and turned away, biting his lip.

Dimmock's eyes went wide, mouth dropping open and cigarette forgotten. 'Oh my fucking God.' Greg sighed. 'Are you finally admitting it?'

'Well...'

'Greg-'

'Mycroft came over last night,' Greg said, Dimmock raising his eyebrows. 'He was drunk and we just made out a bit before he got tired, so I said he could stay; he'd walked from Matt Sanders' house.'

'Okay...'

'He... well, I asked why we hadn't had sex yet,' Greg admitted.

'You haven't had sex yet?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg blushed slightly. 'We've done, like, everything else,' he said. 'Just no actual... um... penetration.'

'Why not?'

Greg sighed, scuffing the grass with his sneaker. 'I asked him that last night and he said... he said he liked me.'

'Mycroft likes you?'

'Yeah, he like likes me,' Greg said. 'He said he fancied me and was waiting because he didn't just want to be a random shag for me.'

Dimmock whistled before inhaling a lungful of smoke as he pushed back and forth on the swing.

'Greg,' he finally said, 'are you really surprised that he likes you?'

'I was at first,' Greg said, 'but... well, it's kinda obvious now that I think about it.'

Dimmock snorted.

'I... I dunno what to do,' Greg mumbled. 'I think... well, I... um...'

'You...?' Dimmock pressed.

'I... I think-' Dimmock scoffed and Greg sighed, 'I know that... that I... I...'

'For fuck's sake, Greg-'

'I like him,' Greg mumbled.

'You like who?'

'M-Mycroft...'

'You like Mycroft?' Dimmock asked. Greg nodded. 'You fancy Mycroft Holmes?' Another nod. 'Finally!' Dimmock shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 'Jesus fucking Christ do you know how to deny shit, Greg! You were so far up de-Nile you were wrestling with fucking alligators! You were building a house in Egypt and setting up shop. You were-'

'I fuckin' get it,' Greg cut in, scowling when Dimmock snickered at him. 'But... but how do I know that I really like him?' Greg asked, now looking at Dimmock with clear worry in his eyes. 'I don't wanna hurt him, Dimmo, and what if I don't really like him? What if I just want sex and then Mycroft gets more attached and... and...'

'Okay, just stop right now,' Dimmock said, grabbing Greg's shoulder. 'If you just wanted sex you wouldn't be fucking worrying about hurting Mycroft, right?'

'I suppose so,' Greg murmured.

'Exactly,' Dimmock said. 'Christ, Greg, it's obvious that you fucking like him, I've been saying that since the first time I caught you two snogging!'

'But why now?' Greg demanded. 'I've been with dozens of guys, why do I suddenly like just one?'

Dimmock tisked. 'Greg, Mycroft isn't like those random shags you've had. Mycroft's kept your attention for months and you still wanna be around him. How long did all your one-night stands keep your attention for?'

'Um... up until I pulled out,' Greg admitted.

'Exactly,' Dimmock said. 'Mycroft's obviously offering more than any of those guys. Just... think about what Mycroft has that they don't.'

'What?'

'Tell me what Mycroft has that they don't,' Dimmock said.

Greg blinked at him before looking away, taking a long drag of his smoke and ashing it over the grass. 'Well...' he finally began, staring at his shoes, 'Mycroft's... Mycroft, you know?' Dimmock just waited. 'He's super smart, he has that crazy intelligence that's just... at first I thought it made him a posh dick, but now I just see it as a major turn on.'

'Yeah?'

Greg nodded, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips. 'He's bloody sexy too. I dunno how I didn't see that when we first met. He's just got that amazing arse, and his body, his hair, his fucking eyes... and he's got these freckles all over his back and shoulders, they're just so fucking... I dunno, cute!'

Dimmock smiled as Greg started rambling, his cigarette burning out.

'We have so much in common, but even our differences make him attractive,' Greg admitted. 'He's so different, but similar to me at the same time. He challenges me, he keeps me interested in every conversation we have, and... he's just amazing to be around, you know?'

'Mm,' Dimmock hummed non-committedly.

'I dunno, it's not just one thing that I like, it's... dozens and dozens,' Greg said softly. 'He's just fucking incredible; I dunno why he's wasting his time with me. I... I just like him so much.'

'Greg?'

Greg blinked from his thoughts and turned to his best mate, who was grinning. 'What?'

'Did you just fucking hear yourself?' Dimmock asked.

The other teenager frowned as he went over his words before turning an amazing shade of red. Dimmock chuckled and Greg huffed, 'Shut up.'

'You fucking like him, dude,' Dimmock said, clapping Greg on the back. 'Fuck, sounds like you're in love with him.'

'I AM NOT!'

Dimmock sighed, 'So you're gonna fight me on that too.' He smirked at a still-blushing Greg. 'You want my advice?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'Go to Mycroft, kiss him, and tell him how you fucking feel,' Dimmock said. 'He won't wait around forever, Greg, and you don't want to fuck this up, alright?'

'But what if he doesn't like me that much?' Greg asked. 'What if he wasn't telling the truth? I mean, he was drunk-'

'Jesus fucking Christ, you really are a dickhead,' Dimmock groaned. He grabbed Greg by the chin, squeezing tightly and making the older boy look at him. 'Mycroft Holmes fucking loves you, Greg, alright? He's liked you for years, everyone can fucking see it, and he told you that he liked you! So just go and fucking tell him how you feel!'

He gave Greg another squeeze and the other boy swatted his hand away, Dimmock grinning.

'You're a prick,' Greg grumbled.

'I love you too,' Dimmock retorted.

They both leaned back on the swings as they fell into silence, lighting fresh smokes and staring across the grass.

'Michael?' Greg murmured.

Dimmock jumped at hearing his first name come from Greg's lips and turned. 'Yeah?'

'Thank you,' Greg said softly.

Dimmock blinked before smiling. 'No worries, mate.'

'And I'm sorry for what I said the yesterday,' Greg mumbled, 'and for grabbing you like that. I was outta line.'

'It doesn't matter, Greg,' Dimmock said. 'Mates piss each other off all the time. Best friends know when to forgive and forget.'

He grinned at Greg, who smiled back and sucked back on his cigarette, blowing smoke above their heads.