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Even after years of being together, Greg knew very little about Mycroft Holmes.
Mycroft could not tell Greg where he had been during the day, who he had been with, what he had done. Greg still wasn’t even entirely sure what it was Mycroft did for a living.
At first, this had been frustrating and had caused several fights between the two. Greg had felt that he wasn’t being properly trusted; Mycroft felt that Greg was being too nosy.
It had culminated one night about a year into their relationship. Mycroft had shattered his hand and couldn’t tell Greg how it had happened.
“Fucking hell Mycroft!” Greg yelled.
“I’m sorry Gregory, but it’s-“
“Classified. Yeah, I got that. You’re whole fucking life is classified Mycroft.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You have security trained on me 24/7 and can tell exactly what I’m thinking by the way I move my right elbow. There’s just not enough balance here.”
Mycroft was at a loss for words.
Greg nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He turned on heel and stormed towards the door, grabbing the knob and yanking it open furiously.
“I tripped.”
Greg paused. “What’s that?” He turned slightly towards Mycroft, who was looking down at his casted hand with a slight pink to his cheeks.
“I…tripped.” He looked up at Greg, eyes shining with tears. “I wasn’t looking where I was walking and I tripped over a curb.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. He could hear the earnestness in Mycroft’s voice, knew the truth to the statement. He barked out a surprised laugh.
Mycroft’s cheeks flamed. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you! I knew you’d laugh at me and think I was clumsy and foolish. Better to have you think it was the calling card of a failed assassin.”
Greg shut the door and turned to face him. “Jesus Christ Mycroft, in what world would that be better? You had me scared half to death.”
Mycroft was still looking down in embarrassment. Greg crossed to him and slipped a hand around his waist, cradled his cheek with the other. “Honestly, I don’t mind if you can’t tell me about how you saved the world today. I worry about you, but I want you to trust me enough to let me know if you’re in danger. I may not be trained by the Russian army, but I would take a bullet for you-“
He was silenced by a soft kiss. Mycroft drew back for a moment. “Don’t you dare. I have people for that,” he whispered into the shell of Greg’s ear.
Greg didn’t doubt this, and as morbid as it was it did make him feel slightly better. He began to chuckle. “You really broke your hand from tripping over a curb?”
Mycroft rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Yes.”
“God I love you. Klutz.”