Mycroft honestly thought it was a joke when Greg's sisters suggested a quick game of soccer at a nearby park. They had just finished having breakfast and Mycroft knew he would need more than a couple of minutes for his belly to stop feeling painfully bloated, so running around chasing a ball wasn't exactly what he had in mind for the morning. Still, when he saw the excitement on his boyfriend's face, he didn't have the courage to propose they spent a quiet morning drinking tea and revising for school. So after only a bit of insisting from Greg, Mycroft found himself carrying some type of leather ball around the park, helping Greg and his sisters to try and find a 'good spot', whatever that meant in that situation.
-So, what do you say: boys versus girls? -Jodie smiled deviously. -Do you think you can take us?
Mycroft was pretty certain he couldn't. Greg, however, seemed quite confident.
-I know it's been a while since I've done this, but Quidditch is pretty good practice, let me tell you.
-Just remember you have to use your feet for this one, little brother.
Greg rolled her eyes at Erica with an amused smile on his face and then turned to Mycroft.
-You understood the rules? It's not too hard, right?
-Oh, I'm fine, yes. I got it.
A bit of exercise couldn't hurt. Not too much, at least. And the game didn't seem horribly complicated, so he was almost certain he could survive a couple of minutes.
The ball started rolling soon after, and Mycroft began to feel less confident by the minute. He wasn't terrible, in his humble opinion, but Erica and Jodie were extremely skilled, and it was close to impossible for him to keep up. Greg was doing pretty well, and he even managed to score a few goals for their team, and though they were losing painfully, he looked like he was having the best of times.
Mycroft was close to falling flat on his face from exertion when they decided to the game was over. He hadn't wanted tell them to stop before, but his breathing had become so shallow he was sincerely surprised he hadn't just flat out fainted.
-Good game, huh?
Greg himself was breathing a bit quickly still, but didn't look half as beaten as Mycroft did. They had sat on the grass as the girls went to buy a couple of water bottles.
-Please, don't ever make me do that again.
Greg laughed as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt.
-Why? I thought you were pretty good.
-As flattered as I am, I have to disagree; I barely knew what I was doing the whole time.
Greg laid his hand over Mycroft's.
-You gave them quite a bit of trouble back there, I'm serious. You are way too hard on yourself.
Mycroft entwined his fingers with Greg's and smiled.
-You'll get it when you meet my parents.
Greg half laughed and half grimaced.
-Right. How are you feeling about that?
Mycroft took his time to reply. He had thought he was over being anxious about his parents' opinions, but, sadly, that situation made him realize he wasn't. Not in the least.
-A bit nervous, to be perfectly honest. They won't have much to say about you; you are perfectly lovable, but they will certainly give me hell about the weight.
Greg's hand squeezed his a bit tighter.
-They just worry about you.
Mycroft remained silent for a bit. He was finally beginning to accept himself at his current size, and it would be all for nothing if his parents managed to shatter that confidence with a couple of hurtful words.
-Still, you are better than a bit of a belly, alright? Don't let it get to you.
-I won't. Not as much as to forget about lunch, at least; I'm seriously starving.
Greg laid a small kiss on his cheek.
-Lets go get the girls and head home. I think mum mentioned meat pie.
Mycroft almost jumped to his feet in joy, but he then realized he was simply too exhausted to.
-We should probably buy dessert. Which flavour ice-cream does your mother like?
-I'm sure she'll appreciate whatever you choose. Come on, time to go.