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Mycroft looked at his reflection in iritation. He had always struggeled with his weight growing up, but by the time he finished university he had his sweet tooth mostly under control and a strict work out regimen helped him to keep his weight down most of the time. That was until he had entered a relationship with one Greg Lestrade. When before he used to work out in his rare spare time, he now used it to meet with his partner for afternoon tea (with biscuits or cake). When he used to have little to no breakfast and mostly small salads for dinner, he was now presented with the DI’s amazing cooking skills or restaurant dates.
Most of the time he shut the voice in his head by telling himself that, surely, the sex would make up for it as a way of burning all those calories. But a look in the mirror proved that to be nothing but self deceit. The suit he had chosed to wear today – that had fit perfectly on his first date with Gregory – now barely held itself together. The shirt was really tense around his mid-section, the vest would barely close and the trousers cut uncomfortably into his belly.
Suddenly he could feel his partner’s arms sneaking up from behind, meeting on the belly he reflexively sucked in. „Morning, love.“ He hadn’t even noticed Greg entering the room, being so preoccupied with his own reflection. „Morning“, he brought out, stiffly. He stepped aside and turned to face his partner, forcing Greg to let go of him in the process. „Everything alright?“ He wasn’t usually so cold to him. When Mycroft saw the uncertainty in his partners eyes he quickly apologized. „Yes, it’s just gonna be a stressful day at work. Nothing to worry about.“ Greg threw his arms around his partner's neck and kissed his cheek. „Hope this helps“, he whispered, drawing several more kisses along Mycroft’s jawline, not noticing how his partner tensed once again.
„You want something special for breakfast?“, Greg asked when he pulled away. „I’m afraid I’ll have to skip breakfast“, Mycroft answered, withdrawing quickly, „I’ll have to go or I’ll be late for my meeting with the PM.“ He endured his day at work without lunch (which did not help at all with his mood) and went home late to have an excause not to eat much of the dinner Greg had made before going to bed. But even after a week of eating close to nothing and avoiding his partner so that he wouldn’t notice, his figure remained. If anything, he now had headaches most of the time because of his malnutrition and felt bad about lying to Greg.
Greg on the other hand was put off. Yes, it was expected that Mycroft sometimes had to work long hours if a crisis made it necessary. It had happened before and he was sure it would happen again, but since Greg had no full control over his own working hours either, he could understand that. This, however, seemed different from the other times. There had been nothing in the news that would explain Mycroft’s absence – that was unusual, but in rare cases had happened before. What was more off-throwing was the distance Mycroft now kept. He didn’t cuddle in close at nights anymore and the next day Greg always found the larger part of Mycroft’s dinner still standing in the fridge, which was odd because he had always said how much he loved Greg’s cooking. He never called or messaged him through the day, which usually was his way to release some of the stress that came with working on a crisis. But Greg just couldn’t think of anything that would cause such a drastic change… Had he done anything wrong?
The next morning he luckily woke before his partner left the house. „Uhm, Mycroft? Do you have a minute?“ He looked at the larger man worriedly, but Mycroft avoided his gaze. „I have to go to work…“
„Please?“
Mycroft sighed. „What’s wrong?“ Greg hesitantly put Mycroft’s hands in his. „That’s what I wanted to ask you. You’ve hardly talked to me the last couple of days… Are you okay?“ Mycroft’s lips spread into a sad smile. „I should have known better than thinking I could hide it from you.“ Greg’s thoughts immediatly jumped to a worst-case-scenario. „Love, what’s wrong?“ His voice was panicked and his eyes frantically searched over Mycroft’s body, looking for any signs.
The man in the suit let out a dry laugh. „As my dear brother would say, you look, but you don’t observe.“ Now Greg was completely puzzled and more than a bid frustrated. „What?! Myc, please, just tell me!“
„To answer your question: I’m not okay. And as for the reason, well, you can see it right in front of you with your own eyes. I always found it hard to imagine that someone as beautiful as you could want to be with… well, me. But now with this…“ – his eyes darted down to his belly, his hands, still entangled with Greg’s, grazed over it, even though it made him uncomfortable – „Well, I didn’t have it in me to wait until your rose-coloured glasses would fall off and you’d see me for the disgusting pig I am. Even one week of dieting didn’t really help“ he added with a hollow smile on his face.
„I love you.“ Greg’s eyes lifted from his partner’s belly up to his face. „Nothing could ever change that. And surely not a bit of relationship-weight, or even more than a bit. Hell, Mycroft, for all I care you could be twice your size and I wouldn’t love you any less.“ He could see that Greg meant these words, even if he found it hard to believe. Greg suddenly started to blink. „Wait, did you just say you didn’t eat for a week?!“ Mycroft was taken aback by the abrupt change in tone. „Well, I had salads for lunch. Sometimes…“