Feels Like the First Time

A blog of Mystrade, especially my own First Time one-shots! I hope you enjoy Please feel free to comment and request anything you would like!

[mystrade-first-times]

Telling the Team

"Hello, Detective Chief Inspector," Mycroft strolled in while Greg was standing behind Sally's desk, poring over evidence. He jumped when he heard his new(ish) partner's voice.

"Oh! Mycroft, hi," he straightened and ignored the weird look Sally was shooting him. "Come on in to my office. What can I do for you?"

"I am very sorry about this, Gregory, but I'm afraid our jurisdictions have once again crossed." Mycroft eased the office door closed behind him, standing straight with both hands on his umbrella handle.

Greg sighed, shuffling through the papers on his desk. "It's the Swanson case, isn't it."

"Yes," Mycroft held out his hand to take the file Greg offered. He used to fight it when this happened, but it had been going on long enough now... and Mycroft's apologies made it a little easier to let go of the case, knowing it was going to his ultra-capable partner. "Is something wrong?" Mycroft asked, looking Greg over. He was standing as though at a loose end, which made no sense in the context of all the work he clearly could be doing.

"Erm," Greg was obviously awkward, rubbing the back of his neck and shuffling his feet. 

"What is the matter, Gregory?"

The older man huffed out a laugh. "Nothing, really, it's just that I don't know what to do with you." He smiled. "I mean, this is the first time you've been in since we... you know, since we're together, and everyone here knows you, so I can't just introduce you like 'this is Mycroft, my partner,' but I feel like I ought to tell them, you know?"

"I see. Should I...?"

"No, no. Don't worry about it. If I decide they really need to know I'll figure out a way to tell them."

"Hey boss," Donovan opened the door and leaned in. "Just got a call. Body in Hyde park."

Greg sighed. "Alright, let's go. Bye Myc," He stood, swinging his jacket off the back of the chair, taking two large steps toward the door Donovan was holding open. 

"Goodbye, Gregory." Mycroft followed them politely out of the office. "Best of luck."

At the last moment, Greg turned and brushed their lips together in a chaste good-bye kiss. "There, that wasn't so hard,"

Mycroft smiled slightly in amusement as the DCI and his team hurried away.

[aristocraticbunnies]

help I woke up as an anime

[pal3trash]

Visit Original Link

[fizzydrnk]

I hate that gif for fitting the song perfectly

[badbunnyfoofoo]

That should not have been that fun to dance to

[kyliesparks27-deactivated201810]

I need a music video with those storm troopers to this now

[mystrade-first-times]

Gregzilla and Mothcroft

Greg had taken many different medications over the years, for a variety of problems, but never had he reacted quite this badly to anything.

He was having a lucid dream in which he destroyed Tokyo. 

In the form of a giant lizard. 

He was going to write a very strongly-worded letter to the manufacturers of this particular brand of medicine, as soon as he found out what it was. He’d stopped by John’s office to complain about whatever it was he had caught, and John’s well-intentioned nurse/wife had told him that this stuff ought to sort him out overnight. 

If by “Sort out” she’d meant “make him think he had a tail and could smash buildings,” then yes it did the trick. 

Midway through crashing over a building, a challenger appeared on the horizon. The large shape had wings and an umbrella, and Greg(zilla) abandoned the decimated building in favor of shrieking his displeasure at the intrusion of another monster into his destructive dream. As the overlarge moth rampaged toward him, downing phone lines and casting overbearing shadows, Greg recognized with a groan somewhere in the back of his conscious mind that his subconscious had just brought Mycroft into this mess. 

I will never speak of this to another living soul, he vowed to himself as he attempted to greet Mothcroft nonchalantly and ended up knocking over a very tall spindly-looking building. Except maybe John over pints. Mothcroft managed to look haughty even when wreaking complete havoc among the tiny, faceless inhabitants of Tokyo, who mostly ran and screamed, and Greg tried to change the dream setting, to no avail. 

Of course. Of bloody course. This just had to be the way he dreamed about the alluring politician for the first time. Who wouldn’t want to picture the most attractive person in the world as a giant irradiated insect destroying foreign cities. 

So romantic. He didn’t even have the speech capacity to chat up the giant moth.

[mystrade-first-times]

Their First Pet

Frankly, it wasn’t much of a pet. 

Greg found a rock on the sidewalk. An inexplicable rock. 

Middle of the sidewalk, no gardens or other sources of stone in sight. 

Naturally he picked it up, carried it home, and glued googly eyes on it. 

Mycroft did not approve. 

"Why." He sounded completely bemused, bridge of his nose pinched between thumb and forefinger as he shook his head slowly. 

"Because." Greg grinned at him, mostly because he smiled when he knew he was being a stubborn, cheeky bastard. "We needed a pet."

"You have brought home a stone and secured… craft products to it."

"They’re called googly eyes." He had to stop himself laughing at the distasteful look on Mycroft’s face. 

"Why have you carried out this remarkably illogical sequence of events? Should I be worried for your mental health, my dear?"

Greg chuckled. “No, no, I’m good. We needed a pet.” He crossed his arms and stood taller, grinning cheerily. It was funny in its own right that he felt this ridiculously proud of himself for bringing home a rock and putting googly eyes on it and then having to have this conversation with Mycroft. 

"I see. And if this stone is to be our pet…" Greg could almost see the younger man dying inside as he admitted that they were going to keep this rock as a pet, and he bloody loved it. "What do you intend to name it?"

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Greg answered, “Well, I thought I might let you do the honors.”

"Me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You realize the track record my family has with naming things? My name is Mycroft for god’s sake, and William Sherlock Scott Holmes is too much a mouthful for even my brother, who named a skull after himself and a dog after a pirate.”

"Yeah, well, I got to name my kids, and you never got to name anything."

"And you suggest I start with this rock." He nodded toward the stone in question, grimacing at the reminder that they were discussing names for a rock Greg had found on the street. 

"Yep!" He popped the ‘p’, just to be extra obnoxious. 

"You are lucky that I love you." Mycroft sighed. "I suppose you will not allow me to name it after my brother in the hopes that he will one day imbibe some of its qualities?"

"Nah. Good sentiment, but go on and be creative."

Mycroft cast a withering look at him, to which Greg reinforced the sunniness of his smile. The government man wasn’t really mad, just confused. Which was a beautiful sight. 

"Steve."

"What?"

"We’re naming it Steve."

Convinced that his smile could power Britain for the next hundred years, Greg nodded. 

[bitterpitchblack]

For the new LetsDrawSherlock challenge!

Drawing shy!Mycroft and lustful!Lestrade was so much fun! I’m sure Mycroft would be like “OMG He’s not doing that, is he?” even if he knew they were alone. And Lestrade would be such a tease.

BTW: hate doing backgrounds.

[rupertograves]

fics in gifs (◕‿◕✿)

[rupertograves]

● Tabula Rasa by EventHorizon

Lestrade let his grin spread wide and treated himself to John’s cup of tea since the doctor had been frozen like an ice carving for the last several minutes. Sherlock’s brother. That suave, bespoke piece of temptation was Sherlock Holmes’s brother. Which would make him Mycroft Holmes. Now that was a name… perfect for moaning when sliding around on silk sheets, bathed in candlelight…

“Stop picturing my brother in an erotic fashion! John! Help me… I am losing touch with consciousness…”

[swadthesherlockian-blog]

So true

[amvs]

zeus took fuck, marry, kill way too seriously

[eldritadh-a]

"IT’S ‘FUCK, MARRY, OR KILL!’ ‘OR!’ NOT ‘AND!’ WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?”

— Hades at some point probably

[pieandhotdogs]

I laughed way too hard at this.

[themagicofvenice]

[thoooooooooooooor]

#trying to get my ship to be canon #come on ship #lets go

Unpopular Ship?

Unknown ship:

Trying to get other people to ship your ship:

Ship remains non-canon?

Ship remains non-canon part 2:

You ALMOST Ship something:

Someone ships something you don’t ship?

Someone insults your ship:

Ship becomes canon:

What is the conclusion?  Jack Sparrow is a Shipper.

[shine-bright-like-an-aradiabot-]

No, Jack Sparrow is the entity of “shipping”.

[tiny2jaes]

When someone shoots your ship down:

[stalecrouton]

that’s CAPTAIN* Jack Sparrow to you

[communionnimrod]

Thought this might be a good two-in-one drabble. :3

ao3 ff.net

Mycroft woke as the bed shifted next to him, and he blinked himself awake to see that he was alone in the bedroom. Brow furrowing, he pushed himself to sit up, listening for his partner. Gregory...

[taserbeanie-archive]

That otp that calls each other by any other name but their first names

And then one of them gets hurt.

[liza-k]

[camillo1978]

That moment when you’re happily dabbling in Sherlock fandom ahead of a new series and you start thinking about Lestrade and Mycroft.

Speed drawing. Bad hair. Unfinished tie.

[sunnymeddows]

This is beautiful.

[tomhazeldine]

[communionnimrod]

Let's talk about Mystrade forehead touching.

Oh gosh Mystrade forehead touching is so sweet and yes.  There’s something so simple, but so intimate about forehead touching.  And maybe their eyes are closed.  And their noses are touching.  Their lips are inches away from each other but not pressed together, their soft breaths huffing over each other’s skin and making them shiver.

It’s the stillness and intimacy before the intensity of what will come next.  It’s the moment of closeness and both of them marveling that the other could possibly be there with them, in that moment.  What comes next will desperate and needy.  It will be sexy and heated.  And this moment… it’s the calm before the proverbial storm.

[mystrade-first-times]

Let's Play Deductions

The night had been perfect. Entirely, completely perfect. 

How does one end the best date of one's life, when that date is with Mycroft Holmes?

"Well, this is me. Thank you again for dinner, Mycroft." He left his hands where they were, shoved in his pockets, and tried to think of ways to stall for time. "I had a great time." 

"As did I, Gregory." For the first time all evening, Mycroft looked unsure as well. Greg hoped that it was because he didn't want to leave either. "May-"

Greg had started talking at the same time. "Your eyes are dilated." 

"I'm sorry?" 

"And your breathing is heavier. I bet if I took your pulse, it would be racing," He was tempted to reach out his hand and take Mycroft's wrist, turn his hand palm-up so they could both see the veins and press his fingers to the indentation that would prove his point, but he thought his point was getting across well enough without too much showmanship.

"What are you doing?" 

Greg offered a bright, cheeky grin. "I'm deducing," 

"And what is your conclusion?" Mycroft's voice seemed lower than usual, and Greg did his best not to react to that. 

"My conclusion, Mr. Holmes, is that if I were to kiss you right now, you would let me. In fact, I think you'd enjoy it." 

"Very good, Detective Inspector. But surely you know that in your line of work hypotheses must be proved before they are given any credence." 

"Are you telling me I'm right?" 

"I'm telling you that you ought to find out." 

So he did, stepping into Mycroft's space and leaning up just a little to bring their lips together. The taller man wasted no time in kissing back, the hand that wasn't holding his umbrella moving to rest on Greg's jaw, holding the DI lightly in place as their kiss deepened, Mycroft's lips parting for Greg's tongue.

Too soon, the government man drew back. "Was your evidence conclusive, Inspector?" He asked, voice a low purr.

Greg made a show of pressing his fingers to the pulse point in Mycroft's neck as he tried to catch his own breath. "Yeah, I'd say so." 

"And how do you intend to proceed?" 

"Dinner, same time next week?" 

"Lovely."