#young mystrade

[ssayandee]

fight

[doobyroos]

Young Mystrade Headcanons

@sarcasstic-jpmvr

Greg has a childhood stuffy (A jellycat rabbit named Smudge) which he gets embarrassed about

He also has two younger half-sisters, Amelia and Carrie (Caroline) from his Dad's current marriage (his parents split when he was three, because of his mother's alcohol issues)

Greg works part-time in Sherlock's favourite bakery, which is where Mycroft first meets Greg

They have their first kiss at the Arcade (where they spent all their-Mycrofts-money on the 2p machines <3)

They almost broke up on Valentine's Day after a surprise gift goes wrong--after that, they promise never to try to surprise each other again)

The two broke that promise when they accidentally both proposed to each other at the Arcade fourteen years later (The same one where they first kissed)

[klarawhy]

Omg, omg... Mycroft and Greg in early eighties reading Maurice (before the film was done) and Myc tellin' his bf, that he kinda feels like the main character (upper class, confused etc.) and Lestrade's just like 'I can be your Alec" (lower class, sure 'bout what he wants...).

[starsandstitches]

A Study In (Young) Mystrade

If you - like me - can’t get enough of two gorgeous young men, slightly shy Mycroft Holmes and rebellious rough Greg Lestrade, I’ve got something for you:

Aren’t they perfect for each other? And  smoking 🔥 🔥 🔥?

They’re going to be illustrations for my fanfic “British Racing Green” you can read on AO3.

---

Unfortunately, I feel compelled to add some rules here requesting to honour my creatorship of these artworks.

- Do not post or copy these images anywhere on the internet without crediting me as the original artist. - Do not remove my signature from the images. - Do not post any modificated version of these images. - Do not use these images for your own purposes, e.g. as an avatar image or promotion picture for your work. - Do not include these images in any published collection without my explicit written permission.

Thank you for respecting creative ownership rights.

[elizasfanfictionblog]

If only

[x]

Mycroft eyed the boy who had nimbly climbed the desk on the podium and was now doing a striptease, unbuttoning his black shirt one at a time while dancing to a rhythm without any music. The boy’s long silky hair swayed, covering his bright features and open smile making Mycroft frown and clench his jaw. Scolding himself for getting distracted, he cleared his throat while straightening the knot in his impeccable bow-tie. “Please settle down. I am here to fill in for Professor Hooper who has been detained rather suddenly.”

Walking into the room while the students all spoke together, Mycroft kept his eyes on the satchel in his hand and placing it on the chair meticulously took out his notes and stationary, licking his dry lips involuntarily.

[x]

[ayla-221bee]

Mystrade Pride fic - Shades of Purple  aka- the one where Mystrade meet in a gay bar in the 1980s.

I wanted to write a pride fic for Sherlock fandom and I wanted to give a lot of love for bisexual Greg Lestrade

it had been over twenty years and Greg could remember that night so clearly. He could remember how nervous he felt, it was his first time visiting that particular club. His first time in Soho actually. He had only moved to London a few months ago and was still finding his way around the place. It had taken him weeks to summon up the courage to step into Soho for the clubs.

 He could remember waiting outside in the cold, even walking through the door was nerve-racking for him. It felt like it was a large announcement to the world that he liked men. He had never admitted it to anyone before and he doubted that he would ever do so at home. It had taken him all his courage to look at himself in the mirror and say ‘I’m bisexual,’ to himself.

The relief he felt that uttering those words to himself was instant. He had known for years that he liked men. He tried his best to ignore his feelings for them and he tried to turn a blind eye when he saw a certain celebrity or a good looking and sweaty man in the gym. He had some luck in ignoring those feelings, he liked girls as well and he was able to get a girlfriend easy enough back home.

Admitting to himself that he was bisexual was rather anti-climatic if Greg had to be perfectly honest. He had expected it to be this massive life-changing revelation but it felt like he was saying out his shoe size to himself in the mirror. He mostly felt rather pleased and rather cool, all the rockstars he admired were bisexual and he felt like he was a part of their club.

He could hear Wham! playing from the other side of the street and he watched two men huddled close together and kissing. It was the first time that he had seen that happen in the streets and no one seemed to pay them any attention.  

There was a sudden surge of courage that ran through him and he quickly entered the bar, nodding to the two men outside who looked at him confused. He could hear one mutter behind his back ‘He’s just come back from having tea with Aslan and Mr Tumnes.’

Greg had little idea what that meant and quickly put the thought to mind once a shirtless man caught his attention and David Bowie was being blasted through the speakers.

He ordered himself a drink and stood by the bar for a long moment, slightly unsure of what he was meant to do or how to act.  He had never had been much of a dancer, not when he was sober at least. He watched a large crush of men on the dance floor, some dancing together, some shirtless and sweaty. Dancing with them seemed rather unappealing at the moment, the song that they were dancing to was not Greg’s favourite.

The other men in the bar seemed to know what they were doing. They knew where to go, who to talk to, how to ask another man to dance or for a drink. He admired the confidence of a man who wore more makeup than his sister did, Greg shouted out how much he liked his lipstick when the man caught him staring.

Some of the men were shirtless, there were a few wearing pieces of leather. A couple of them wore an earring. Some feminine men dressed better than Greg had ever done in his life. He didn’t care too much for men with moustaches and beards.

He had the feeling that he didn’t fit in.  He wondered if it was obvious that he was new to the club and out of the closet.  If the men in the club could tell that he still liked girls even some of the blokes looked as if they had never even kissed one.  He wasn’t as flamboyant as some of the other men or had a desire to wear leather.

It made him wonder if he had a place in this bar or the gay community. He didn’t feel gay enough. He hardly knew if he had a type of men he liked. He hadn’t even kissed a bloke before and he wondered if it was obvious.

He looked across the bar and noticed someone who was about his age looking at him. Greg wondered if it was his first time in the club as well, he looked unsure about what to do with himself, he stood awkwardly by the wall with a drink in his hand, occasionally swaying to the music.

Greg nodded in his direction and shot him a grin.  The bloke on the other side of the bar ran his hand through ginger curls, returned the smile and started to make his way to the side of the bar.

“How your night?” Greg asked after he had ordered himself and Mike another drink. Greg wasn’t too sure if his name was Mike, it had been too loud to hear properly.  He had asked him several times what his name was and he was sure that he kept calling himself Mike.

“Much better than it had been before,” Mike said. “It is your first time here. You’ve got that look about you. I can tell.” Greg raised an eyebrow. “What look is that?” He challenged. “Is it the same one that you had before you saw me? You looked like a deer in headlights. First time as well?”

Mike leaned in close to listen to him, he moved in even closer when someone jostled him to get a drink. He could smell his aftershave and he caught the glimpse of a few freckles scattered across his nose. He swallowed hard as he felt their bodies press together, he wondered if Mike had moved in closer deliberately.

“To a gay bar,” Mike said. “I’ve not long turned twenty-one. I thought that I would allow myself to have a night of freedom before I go to university next week.”

“Are you...you know?” Greg asked awkwardly unsure about what he wanted to say. It was so much easier with girls, he had more practice with them.

“Gay?” Mike asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “I’ve not just come here for the music.” “The music could be better,” Greg said with a shrug.

He glanced down and fiddled with the label of his beer bottle and wished he knew what to say.  He found it incredibly hard to believe that someone has good looking at Mike had been wanting to talk to him especially with how much he stuck out.

“I agree,” Mike said.  “Gay bars are not my thing.”

“I’m not sure if they are mine either,” Greg said with a sigh. “You don’t have to talk to me. There’s plenty of other blokes around here who are probably more interesting than me. I barely know what I’m doing here.”

Mike looked at him with an amused smile on his face and finished off his drink. “Do you want to leave? I’d rather have a proper conversation than shouting in your ear.”

Greg nervously finished off his beer, nodded, and let Mike drag him out of the bar.

“How long have you been out for?” Mike asked breaking the comfortable silence between them. He offered the cigarette that was dangling between his fingers.  “I’m assuming that is what you meant when you said that you did not know what you were doing.”

Greg accepted the cigarette and placed it between his lips. There was a jolt than ran through him as his and Mike’s hand brushed against another.  “Two months,” Greg eventually answered. “I’ve known that I’ve liked blokes since school though, just had girlfriends. What about you?”

Mike let out a chuckle and leaned against the wall, his hand brushing dangerously close to his own.  “I have known since I discovered the definition of the word,”  he said. “ Admittedly, E.M. Forester’s Maurice placed the last few pieces in the puzzle for me.”

Greg shifted awkwardly on his feet and scuffed out the cigarette with his shoe. “Mind if I ask you something stupid?”

MIke raised an eyebrow and shot him an amused smile. “Do you feel like you fit in with those blokes in the bar?” Greg asked eventually. “I’m not sure if I’m gay enough for them. I did have a girlfriend not long ago.”

Mike let out an amused chuckle and absent mindlessly-fiddled with the collar of Greg’s jacket. “Bisexual people are allowed in the bar,” he said. “People should not care about what percentage of you likes girls. I do not care in the slightest, Greg.”

He noticed how close Mike was to him, he could almost hear his heartbeat and  how it was hammering in his chest. It felt almost difficult to breathe when he realised that it would take very little effort to kiss Mike. He wondered if Mike fancied him and wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss Mike.

Greg suddenly wished that he knew that to do or what he was meant to say. The confidence that he had with girls was non-existent when it came to blokes. His confidence was only a construct when it came to Mike.   Mike pulled out his watch and sighed. “I’m afraid that I’ll need to go soon. I’ve got a train to catch and I’ll need to get to university in the morning.”

Greg shoved his hands in his pocket and tried to hide the feeling of disappointment that crashed over him.  “I would have asked you for another drink if you didn’t have to go,” he said. “I’m wondering if  you would be in London soon?”

“Are you asking me out?” Mike asked with a chuckle.

“Would it be alright if I did?” Greg asked.  “I’m not sure what is the right way to do it with a bloke? I suppose that you don’t have a better way of doing so, Mike.”

“I would like that,” Mike grinned.

He pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper from nowhere and scribbled down a phone number and pressed it into Greg’s hand.

“I suppose that I should go soon,” he said, shuffling on his feet.

“I wish that you could stay for another drink.”

Mike thought for a long moment and took in a few deep breaths as if he was trying to summon up the courage for something. “I do not normally do this. I’m blaming the alcohol.”

“Do what?” Greg asked.

Mike answered him with a kiss. It was slightly awkward as he bashed his nose into Mike’s at the start with how enthusiastic he was. It was different from kissing girls but he liked it.  He never imagined that he would like it so much. Mike’s hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pressed him against the wall as he kissed him. Mike did not protest as he raked his hands through his hair. He never had a girlfriend who tilted his jaw to kiss him harder or had large rough hands that pressed him to the wall.

Greg had never expected that snogging a bloke in a sidestreet in Soho to be so brilliant. It made him wonder why he hadn’t done it before.

“I do apologise,” Mike said.  “I am not sure what came over me. The alcohol must have gone to my head.”

He attempted to smooth down his hair but it did not cooperate. He fiddled with Greg’s lapels instead and tried to straighten them out.

“That was brilliant,” Greg grinned.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. Mike did the same and looked rather disappointed having to leave.

"I don’t want you to miss your train,” Greg sighed.  “I’ll call  you soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Mike said with a smile.

He leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth, the soft touch was warm and full of longing. It felt too much like a goodbye and far too final for Greg’s liking.

“I’ll see you around, Mike,” Greg said, he showed off the bit of paper. “Get home safe, alright.”

Mike let out a chuckle and shook his head at him. “I’ve told you countless times in the bar,” he said. “My name is Mycroft.”

[justrandomwholockstuff]

Ok here’s another one

Greg (also around 15-16) is on the school rugby team (hence the sort-of sports clothes and the plaster thingy), and Mycroft definitely doesn’t watch the rugby training from the window in the library whilst doing his homework for the sole purpose of staring at Greg

[humansacrificialadvisor]

Love, paint, pain and trouble

I was so honoured that @savvyblunders​ agreed to read it and help me out! Thank you darling!! ( I will keep thanking you.)

“Who is your model?”

“You, silly.” Greg wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on Mycroft’s shoulder, “See, the freckles on your back…thighs. Your perfectly shaped body…this was inspired by your eyes…the changing colours; like the sky. Your hair…smile…You are in all of them…each and every one of them.”

“Me?” he whispered.

“You, always you,” he kissed Mycroft tenderly behind his ear.

The second World War ended, life is getting back to normal in Paris, but not for Greg the young thief. One fatefull night he had tried to relieve a ginger English man of his wallet, but what followed was something none of them anticipated.

Mycroft's work regularly makes him visit Paris, not that he minds, because Gregory Lestrade the handsom and talented painter, formerly thief, is waiting for him there. Giving him all the comfort and love he is so deprived of.

Greg had wished for more than just a few days of happiness with his lover, but not the way his wish came true.

Read it here.