#caring greg

[mimisempai]

Let my love take care of you

Summary:

Mycroft works too hard, but Greg is there to remind him to take care of himself.

Notes:

Why noone told me that Caring is one of Mystrade’s trademark ?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37751560

1271 words - Rating G

Greg stifled a yawn as he read the same paragraph of the book he was reading for the third time. He set it down on the coffee table and stood up looking for Mycroft.

"Mycroft?"

Receiving no response, he deduced that his lover was still in his office. He continued along the hallway to reach him. Arrived in front of the half-opened door, he stopped in the doorway and looked at Mycroft, slightly disheveled from running his hand through his hair, his sleeves rolled up, his tie slightly untied, details that said a lot about his condition.Mycroft was a workaholic and Greg had perfectly understood and accepted it, after all, they were the same regarding their professional ethics.

Before they met, they both had a tendency to sacrifice a lot for their work. A lot of their own selves.

But the difference now is that they had each other to remind them to take care of themselves.

And today it was Greg's turn to remind Mycroft, which is why he decided that he could enter his office.

He spoke softly so as not to frighten him out of his concentration, "Mycroft." Then he reached over, laid a hand on Mycroft's shoulder, and asked softly, "Didn't you say you'd only be here for an hour?"

"I did," confirmed Mycroft without looking up from his laptop.

"You know you've been here for three hours, love?"

"Oh really?" replied Mycroft again, still not looking up.

Greg sighed fondly and then leaned in, watching Mycroft surreptitiously, his dedication to his work was after all one of the qualities Greg loved. Mycroft was truly breathtaking when he was focused. To be honest, Greg found him permanently breathtaking.

He had this intense look in his eyes and his whole body vibrated with the tension that was almost constantly in him.

But Greg could also see the dark circles under his eyes, the reddened eyes from too much screen time, the drawn features and that was less breathtaking.

So he murmured in Mycroft's ear, "Take a break until tomorrow."

"But..." began Mycroft.

"There are no buts about it..." Greg brought his lips even closer to his ear and whispered, making Mycroft shiver to his delight, "I miss my lover..."

Mycroft leaned his cheek against Greg's hand still on his shoulder, "You're an excellent negotiator."

He replied in a playful tone, "It's not just you who has that particular skill."

Mycroft laughed softly and spun his wheeled seat to wrap his arms around Greg's waist, "You should have called me sooner."

"Mycroft, I know that when you go to work and say you'll be an hour, it's going to take an average of three times that long, and I don't mind because that's you, which is what you are, and I love everything about Mycroft Holmes, even the scrupulous workaholic who can't find rest until he's untangled I don't know what diplomatic problem. So I've given you the time I think you need, but I'm not going to let you work yourself to exhaustion either."

Mycroft pressed a kiss to Greg's belly and laughed softly again.

"Okay dear, I get it. I'll stop until tomorrow," Mycroft finally conceded and then turned off his computer.

He stood up and took Greg's hand, saying with a mischievous smile, "Now I'll have to make it up to my neglected lover."

He pulled Greg behind him down the hallway and into the living room where he sat on the couch pulling Greg toward him until he was astride his lap.

He then buried his face in the juncture between Greg's shoulder and neck breathing in his scent as Greg slid his hands over Mycroft's shoulders and gently stroked his back.

"Hmm," Mycroft murmured, "I missed you too." he straightened up a bit and framed Greg's face before kissing him gently. Then he nuzzled his face again into the neck of Greg who rested his chin on Mycroft's head and continued to gently stroke his back.

They stayed like that for a long time, rhythmed by the regular breathing of Mycroft in the neck of Greg and the hypnotic caresses of Greg on the back of Mycroft.

Then Mycroft slowly raised his head, catching Greg's lips again in a warm and meaningful kiss. He gently stroked his jaw and let his eyes close, his tongue gently brushing against Greg's bottom lip. He slowly broke the kiss after a few moments, looking lovingly into his lover's eyes.

Then with a sheepish look, he said softly, "I'm sorry that sometimes I get so immersed in my work that I forget everything, even you."

Greg put a finger to his mouth and said, "And I'm only sorry because you forget yourself and don't take care of yourself."

Mycroft put his arms around him and rested his head on his shoulder, "Yes, but you are here to set me straight."

Greg chuckled. "That's right, so now is the time to tell you that falling asleep on the couch is out of the question."

Before Mycroft could protest, Greg stood up and grabbed the hand of Mycroft, who had no choice but to follow him into their room.  Greg pushed gently Mycroft towards the bathroom.

Mycroft said with a surprised tone, "Aren't you coming in the shower with me?"

"No, I already showered love."

"How could you do that?" asked Mycroft in a plaintive tone as he headed for the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Greg opened the bed and slipped under the sheets, beginning to doze again, lulled by the sound of the shower.

When Mycroft returned a few minutes later, he stopped for a moment on the doorstep to admire the sight in front of his eyes, the sheet that revealed just a bit of bare shoulder, the disheveled hair, more than usual, the slight beginning of a stubble.

Then he murmured as he approached, "It's not just me that's tired it seems."

Greg looked so peaceful, but at the same time so tempting, that Mycroft couldn't help but lean in and kiss him.

As soon as Mycroft's lips touched his cheek, Greg stirred and opened his eyes, despite the lightness of the kiss.

Mycroft felt a little guilty so he gently brushed Greg's hair, kissed his cheek and softly whispered, "Go back to sleep my beloved."

Greg shook his head with his characteristic stubbornness and tried to sit up.

"I wasn't sleeping, I was just dozing while waiting for you."

Mycroft smiled fondly, then lay down beside him, and turning to him said gently, "Well, I'm here now, you can fall asleep for good."

They were now face to face and Mycroft took this moment to admire his lover. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing getting heavier and his eyes clouded with fatigue. Mycroft leaned over and kissed his forehead in a lingering kiss. He moved his lips downward, moving closer to Greg's. Their breaths mingled and he could smell Greg. Cedar and pine. Lemon and mint. Mycroft closed his eyes in delight.

"Mycroft," sighed Greg, already half asleep, "I love you."

Mycroft gasped. He may have heard it many times before. Every time Greg said those words, it was as if it was new, as if it was the first time.

And as Greg's eyes were closing he whispered softly, his throat tight with emotion, "I love you." wondering what he had done to deserve someone like Greg.

After a final brush of his cheek, as if to verify the reality of his presence in his arms, Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg who automatically snuggled up to him and Mycroft let sleep take him away.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

[jobooksncoffee]

Following The (Silver) Fox.

Coming to AO3 on February 8. This is a complete story.

Pushed out of my comfort zone by a dare from @loveismyrevolution, I ended up writing a story for Greg (please check out her sexy houseboat owning Greg in “Shatter Me” on AO3). It is a slooow burn Greglock (Sherstrade). It’s also a Series 3 fix-it, and I had lots of fun writing it! Even though my true OTP is and will always be Johnlock, I’ve decided to post it. Let me know if you want to read along! I understand if it’s not your cup of tea, just say the word.

Here goes a teaser,

-Hello to you, too sunshine! Where have you been?

-Lestrade, tell me your lackey was right and you are in Clapham. SH

-In wedding dress hell. Mary has horrid taste and wants dresses that make her look like a giant tuna. John is no help at all, looking like a collared dog all the time. SH

-That bad huh?

-Worse. I’m done. I can’t possibly take this anymore today. Come and get me out of here before I tell Mary what I think about her in any of these dresses that cost more than John makes in a year. SH

-I’m supposed to be going straight to court to oversee some proceedings with a couple of new officers. You would have to come with me and behave. I’ll say you’ve been called as a witness.

-Whatever, just come get me out. SH

ooOooOooOoo

So Greg arrived in his official car, and his suit (ill fitting suit, the genius had said). As he entered the store John saw him, smiling instantly “Hi there Greg! What brings you here? New case?” he smiled hopefully.

“Hey mate! Big day getting closer?” Greg smiled back “No new case, sorry. I came for Himself, need him to come to the courts with me. Where is he?”

So John pointed to Sherlock, who was standing behind Mary, pulling at the fabric around her waist and talking with her, as his legs did that nervous dance they did whenever he had to listen to something boring. Sherlock saw him in the mirror and he let a breath out, his shoulders relaxed and his legs stilled. He said something to Mary, who turned around, annoyed.

He walked hurriedly towards Greg. “Let’s go Gavin.”

John muttered, “You guys are not leaving me alone here, come on!”

“Um, this isn’t a case you were on, mate. Sorry, but can’t get you into court. Next case, alright?” answered Greg.

Mary came hurrying over in a robe “Oh no no no, Inspector! You can’t take Sherlock now! We have other boutiques to go to! I have to pick my gown today!”

“Hello Mary. Sorry to intrude on such an important decision, but Sherlock here has to come with me. Unfortunately, it will probably be a long while til we are done. The Groom will have to step up!” Greg said, clapping John on the shoulder. John looked at him with the eyes of a kicked puppy. “You two have fun! Come on, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you Greg. I think it is not too much to say I believe you have saved if not my life, my sanity. I can not understand the thought process of a woman about to get married. Everything is of heightened importance and everything must be done as she says. Really! How can John tolerate this? I am thankful I will never have that problem!” Sherlock rubbed his temples, toed his shoes off and stretched his legs, moving the seat back and reclining.

Tagging some lovely readers. If you want to give the story a chance, let me know, I’ll tag you. If not, that’s cool, your name will be untagged.

@johnlocklover221 , @loveismyrevolution , @elwinglyre, @chinike , @annecumberbatch , @fellshish, @iamjustreading, @missdeliadili , @nade2308 , @onesmallfamily , @peanitbear , @reveling-in-mayhem, @sherlockwatson-holmesblog , @thenightwolf732 ,

[jobooksncoffee]

Following the (Silver) Fox

Coming to AO3 on February 8. This is a complete story.

Pushed out of my comfort zone by a dare from @loveismyrevolution, I ended up writing a story for Greg (please check out her sexy houseboat owning Greg in “Shatter Me” on AO3). It is a slooow burn Greglock Series 3 fix-it, and I had lots of fun writing it! Even though my true OTP is and will always be Johnlock, I’ve decided to post it. Let me know if you want to read along! I understand if you want to skip it, just let me know.

Here goes a teaser:

Sherlock looked up, still confused, his brow still scrunched, his face, almost translucent in the mostly dark flat. “Lestrade? You are actually here?”

“Yes. You stayed over at my flat.” he reminded him.

Sherlock reached out and touched Greg’s chest with two fingers, rubbed the fabric of his cotton vest. Then he looked into Greg’s eyes. “You are real…” he said, his voice full of wonder.

“Ta for that. Real, yeah.” Greg smiled.

“Well Mind Palace Lestrade always has his ill fitting suit on. More hair too. You cut it too short Gustav.” Sherlock said.

“Ah you prick. Have half a mind to send Mind Palace Lestrade to make you a Mind Palace cuppa!” He said. “Are you hurting Sherlock? You seem like you could use some paracetamol.”

“Perhaps I can. But can you...stay a while. Things are still...fuzzy. You are real though?” Sherlock did in truth look confused.

Greg reached out and put his hand at the bottom of Sherlock’s neck, cupping it, thumb gently touching his curls. “Yeah real. I’m here mate, I got you.”

Sherlock’s hand went to the bottom of Greg’s vest, grabbed the edge of it and held on.

The next morning, as Greg painfully straightened up from his horrid sitting position on the side of the pullout, he knew by the stillness Sherlock had left.

So I’m tagging some WYTMH and TBOL readers, feel free to let me know if this is not your cup of tea, though if you have a friend you think may like it, please share!

@johnlocklover221 , @loveismyrevolution @elwinglyre , @annecumberbatch , @chinike , @fellshish , @iamjustreading , @missdeliadili , @nade2308 , @onesmallfamily , @peanitbear , @reveling-in-mayhem , @sherlockwatson-holmesblog @thenightwolf732 ,