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Mycroft's routine begins at 5:30 a.m. sharp.
It was only after the fourth time that Greg realized he was now part of this routine, when Mycroft leaned over him like the three previous mornings and kissed his forehead before getting up.
That fifth morning, Greg woke up at the same time as Mycroft and waited with a smile for his morning kiss before watching him get up and get ready.
When fifteen minutes later, Greg heard the sound of the shower, he turned to the bathroom door, head on one hand and watched Mycroft's movements.
Movements blurred by the steam on the shower glass.
Movements when he dried himself.
Movements when he shaved meticulously, chasing the slightest hair that would have escaped the razor.
Then when Mycroft entered the room again to get dressed, Greg reclined again, pretending he was asleep to better observe him.
Because it was a show.
The way each piece of clothing fell into place.
Every wrinkle was tracked and smoothed.
The way the long fingers close each button, delicately fasten each cufflink, knot the tie. Every movement is done with precision. Greg will never tire of watching it.
Stretching under the covers, a sigh escaped his lips, drawing Mycroft's attention.
He couldn't help but whisper, "You know, Mycroft, I need to tell you something."
Mycroft walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, a little puzzled, "I'm listening."
Greg swallowed, and blurted out, "I just wanted to let you know that I think you're beautiful."
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Greg felt like hiding under the covers. But he was also brave so he faced Mycroft and looked him straight in the eye.
The surprise over, Mycroft laughed softly, "Detective Inspector Lestrade, you never cease to amaze me. I don't know what merits that completely overstated compliment but-"
Greg straightened up, "There's nothing exaggerated about it, you are beautiful, Mycroft mmmph!"
Greg couldn't finish his sentence because Mycroft had pressed his lips to his, pressing him against the pillow. He kissed Greg deep and long. When they parted, Mycroft didn't hurry to get up or put his suit in order, he didn't look at his watch or his alarm clock. He simply looked at Greg, a tender expression on his face and said, "You're a menace, Mister Detective. When I see you like this, I just want to go back to bed with you and make even more of a mess of this hair."
He ran his hand through Greg's hair, leaned over and pressed another kiss to his lips before straightening up and continuing, "But we'll have to make do with this, because duty calls."
Greg took Mycroft's hand in his hair and kissed it before saying softly, "And I wouldn't have you any other way, my beautiful Mycroft. Go. Knowing that you regret having to leave is enough for me."
Mycroft pressed a final kiss to his forehead and stood up, regret evident on his face and in his entire demeanor.
"Have a nice day and see you tonight."
"See you tonight."
Greg watched him go.
See you tonight.
Words as routine as Mycroft's good morning kiss.
Because Greg was part of Mycroft's routine and Mycroft was part of Greg's routine.
Greg stretched with contentment and allowed himself another five minutes of laziness before he too submitted to his duty.