Summary:Mystrade fluff!! Kids to teens to adults. Very fluffy… Hope you enjoy it!
Mycroft helped his little brother, Sherlock, into the sand box at the playgroud. Mycroft, only five years old himself, looked over to his mother and waved enthusiastically. Violet smiled and waved back.
Mycroft left Sherlock to dig in the sand while he ran to the slide. The slide was always Mycroft’s favorite thing to play on at the playground. He would race up the steps as fast as he could and fling himself down the slide, flying all the way to the bottom before getting up and sprinting back up again.
But today, there was another kid there before him. They were racing to the stairs at the same time, and collided with an impact that- unbeknownst to them at the time- would effect them both for the rest of their lives.
“Ooowww….” Mycroft moaned and rolled over, holding his knee where he had scraped it.
“Oh!” the other boy said as he fell over on his short little four year old legs. “Are you otay?” He had a little bit of a lisp.
“Yeah, I think so,” Mycroft said as he pulled himself up. “I was going to the slide,” he told the younger boy.
“Me too!” The little boy grinned. “My name is Gweg.”
“I’m Mycroft.”
“My… Mytwoft?” Little Greg had a lot of trouble trying to pronounce it.
Mycroft laughed at his attempt. “Yeah. But sometimes my mum calls me Myc.”
“I like Myc better,” Greg told him. Then, as a thought struck him, Greg blurted out the words that would bind the two boys together for a very long time to come. “Tan you be my fwiend?”
Mycroft thought about it for a minute. “Do you like to slide?”
Greg’s eyes lit up at the thought. “Yeah, it’s my favourite!”
Both boys smiled at each other in newfound friendship. “Yeah, I can be your friend.”
Greg laughed. “Do you wanna play now?” He brushed the dirt off of his trousers.
“Yes! You can go first,” Mycroft offered.
“No, you go. I tan wait,” Greg lisped.
“How ‘bout we slide together?” And that, of course, was how both boys ended up in a tangled mass of limbs at the bottom of the slide, laughing in delight.
They spent the rest of the day- and many play dates after that- laughing and playing together.
>>>>
Mycroft held back the tear threatening to well in his eyes. At seventeen, he was still having trouble trying to cope with his feelings and emotions. He constantly tried to tell his younger brother that caring was not an advantage… It was so much harder to practice what he preached.
Mycroft was alone in his room, laying on his bed and trying to decide his plan of action. Mycroft had known for a while that he was gay… He’d never told anyone before now. Well, before ten minutes ago, when he’d blurted it out to Sherlock, almost on accident. Sherlock, the twat, had smirked his antagonizing little smile and pulled out his phone. “John owes me 20 quid,” he said. “Mum, Mycroft finally came out,” Mycroft heard as Sherlock passed through the kitchen. Mycroft sat frozen with wide eyes. What just happened?
“Finally!” Mycroft heard Violet shout before she bustled away from the sink. Nope, Mycroft thought. Nope nope nope nope nope. He hurried away, up to his room, before she could catch him.
What the hell just happened? Mycroft took out his phone when it buzzed in his pocket. It was Greg.
I just got off the phone with your brother. -GL
Okay. -MH
Congratulations! It took you long enough. -GL
Jesus. Did everyone know? It was supposed to be a secret, you know.
-MH
I’m your best friend, Myc. There’s not much you can keep from me. -ML
… -MH
Shut up. I know that silence. What is it? -GL
Nothing, just… As long as we’re on the subject of secrets… -MH
I think I like you? -MH
No, I mean, I think I love you. -MH
Oh, God, I’m making it worse. Nothing. Never mind, just ignore those last texts, please. -MH
A few minutes passed.
Greg? -MH
Can you be my friend? -MH
It was the most basic form of their friendship. It started so long ago, with those few words, spoken from Greg’s lips in what was then an innocent question. Now, it seemed as if Mycroft’s whole world balanced on the edge of an answer.
Look out the window, you idiot. -GL
It was almost dark outside. Greg was standing in the middle of the yard, his motorcycle parked against the curb. Mycroft scrambled down the stairs as quickly as he could without making any noise. He hesitated on the porch, though, not sure how Greg was going to react. But Greg just smiled broadly before sauntering towards his best friend.
Mycroft fidgeted. He didn’t know what to make of the look in Greg’s eyes. Mycroft had seen Greg look at girls like that before. That was one of the reasons that Mycroft had been so weary of how Greg would react…
Greg stopped a few feet from Mycroft. “You never answered me,” Mycroft said nervously. He cleared his throat.
“It was a stupid question.”
“It still warrants an answer.”
Greg stepped closer to Mycroft until they were within reach of each other. “Myc, I think I want to be a little more than friends.”
Mycroft smiled as he realised exactly what Greg was saying. Mycroft grabbed Greg’s shoulders and pulled him close. Their first kiss was gentle- their lips barely touched. It was just enough to make Mycroft’s knees go weak.
Sherlock poked his head out the door. “Get a room, you two.” Mycroft turned to his little brother, only fourteen at the time, and shooed him back inside. Sherlock leaned around the door again. “Oh, and Greg- you owe me 20.”
“WHAT THE HELL?! You too?!”
Greg shrugged. “I thought you’d have told me sooner,” he admitted, then leaned in for another kiss.
>>>>>
Greg cleared his throat and stood up. “If you could all settle down…”
Mycroft smiled up at Greg from his seat next to him. Even after all this time, Mycroft still felt butterflies in his stomach. It didn’t even mater where they were; as long as Greg was with him, Mycroft was happy.
Greg continued loudly. “I’d just like to say a few words to Myc, here…” He took a sip of his drink. Nerves. “Myc, you and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. And I know this sounds sappy, but I’d just like to say that there is no one that I would rather spend the rest of my life with… And there is no one else I’d rather call my husband. I love you so much, Myc. May the days to come be as happy as all the days we’ve shared. Cheers!”
The rest of the wedding party raised their glasses and toasted the happy couple. As Greg sat down, Mycroft gripped his hand.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Mycroft murmured.
“Mmm. D'you think, after all we’ve been through, and all that’s yet to come…” Greg looked into Mycroft’s eyes with a light of laughter and shared secrets. “Can you be my friend?” Greg quoted.
Mycroft smiled at the inside joke. He thought back to the very first day he met Greg- a distant memory, now, as if it was someone else’s dream. The little four year old with dark hair and a slight lisp. He’d preferred the name Myc over Mycroft, and he was the only person who was allowed to use the nickname. He was Mycroft’s very best friend from the start, and still was to this day- their wedding day- over twenty years later.
“Greg,” Mycroft whispered as he twisted the ring on his new husband’s left hand, “you and I are much more than friends.”
The crowd cheered as the couple leaned in for another kiss.
"Sherlock..." John says feeling the consulting detective's forehead, "Are you ok? Did you go to your mind palace?" "Did I not say anything?" Sherlock asks. "Not a word," John replies. "Oh, well suffice it to say my answer is yes," Sherlock tells him. "What was the long version?" John questions. "I may have cried tears of joy, then we had sex, and then you finally put the ring on my finger and we had sex again during which you wouldn't let me come until I accepted your proposal properly."
"Too over the top?" Mycroft asks John. "I wasn't expecting a flash mob that's for sure," John laughs. "Was he on the right track at least?" Mycroft asks him. "Yes," John nods. The next time Sherlock proposes they've just finished chasing a suspect and are laughing about how he only seemed to turn onto dead end streets. Sherlock takes the ring from his pocket, gets down on one knee and says "I want you to chase suspects with me for the rest of our lives, will you marry me?" John finally says yes.
“Come along, John, don’t want to be late!” says Sherlock, donning his coat and scarf.
“What for?” asks John, looking confused.
“Our appointment at the registry office! We need to book a date for the wedding!”
“Wedding? What wedding? Whose wedding?”
“OUR wedding! Do keep up, John!”
“What the hell are you on about? Since when are we getting married?”
“Since I proposed to you three days ago! I distinctly remember you said ‘yes’!”
“Sherlock… three days ago I was down at Harry’s, helping her build her new Ikea bedroom furniture! I was gone for two days!”
“Oh,” says Sherlock, crestfallen. “It must have been Mind Palace you I proposed to.”
“Seems a shame to waste the appointment, so let’s go, yeah?” says John smiling.
“You mean you want to marry me?” says Sherlock hopefully.
“Of course, you great git! If I said it in your Mind Palace, then I’d probably say it in person, too.”
“Brilliant!” says Sherlock, jumping in glee. “By the way, Mind Palace You also agreed for me to turn your old bedroom into a dissection lab, to bring me a pack of 20 Malboro’s and to provide me samples of all of your bodily fluids for an experiment.”
“I need to have a word with your Mind Palace John!”
PFFT hahahahahahahahaha omg glorious XD I love mindpalaceJohn so hard!!!~♥
"John..." Sherlock says cautiously when he comes home from visiting his parents to find the flat it spotless, "is everything ok?" "No," John replies morosely, "why else would I clean the flat to this level?" "Is there something I can do to help?" Sherlock asks him. "I think so," John says walking over to Sherlock and getting down on one knee, "while you were gone I realized that I wanted to be with you forever, will you marry me?" "Yes."
John wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar ring on his ring finger. "Finally," Sherlock says when he realizes the army doctor is awake, "maybe you could explain where we are, and why it looks like we got married." "Your guess is as good as mine," John shrugs and rolls over to go back to sleep. "I brainwashed you," Scarlett Witch tells them standing at the foot of the bed, "your brother thought it would be funny." Sherlock and John never divorce.
"What's wrong with your hair?" Mycroft asks his brother. "Um...I haven't brushed it yet," Sherlock replies. "Why not?" Mycroft asks. "Because John said he liked it like this," Sherlock explains. "Why would he say that?" Mycroft questions. "He said he liked that I looked well fucked," Sherlock smiles smugly. "Well Mummy won't like it," Mycroft chides him, "and she'll be here in less than an hour." "Mummy will like it fine when she finds out we're engaged," Sherlock tells him.
"Just a second..." Sherlock called from behind the door. John, waited patiently, sighed and watched as his best friend finally came out. "How's this?" Sherlock asked. John smiled and stood up slowly and walked towards him." I think..." he said while straightening his bow tie, "It's perfect." . "Really? Are you sure. I think it's too small" John looked into Sherlock's eyes and kissed his lips softly. "I'm telling you, you look perfect. Now come on, we have some cakes to try." John replied.
