Chapter Text
Tones of books from a library, rigorously written notebooks, and sleeves of his shirt rolled up, he also needed to unbutton the first two buttons and an unreadable expression on his face. Even though the wind was blowing and played with his hair a bit, it was boiling hot. June.
Finally, he stood in front of his final destination. Littleish café right next to a park. Stunning place. He had been going here quite often because the coffee here was pretty good and mainly because not many people visited this place.
He needed to stop for a little and think about what he'll have. It's most uncomfortable to get something, you didn't want, because the person behind the counter asked you before you could choose.
Perhaps, he'll get a frappe. He couldn't have anything hot on such a sunny day and he could treat himself to something sweeter, too.
So he stepped inside and headed straight to the counter. Harry was here today. Slightly older girl. She started college last year. They had already known each other for a bit. It was the closest thing to a friendship he had. There were very few people in such a relationship with him.
"Hello," he said and slightly smiled. She was nice and friendly, but not annoyingly talkative. When she would see he is reading, she'd leave him and wouldn't ask anything.
"Hi, what are you having today?" She asked with her typical smirk. She had her dark blond hair in a ponytail and she wore dark denim dungarees and a t-shirt with stripes on her smallish body.
"Frappe and sparkling water, please," he responded politely. He saw, that she was happy. Her smell and a piece of paper with a little heart suggested, that she was about to make truly interesting plans with somebody. He knew, that some time ago, she had moved out of her parents' house and she was doing well at school right now. She was also just smiling all the time. It was summer, too. Free time and warm nights.
"It'll take a bit. You can go and sit down," she said with amusement when she looked up and down at Mycroft and his hands and bag full of books. So he set off to the same seat as always.
On his way, he heard a conversation, which included an unknown person to him.
"Greg? Can you fetch this to him, please?" Shouted Harry somewhere to a room in the back.
"Oi! C'mon! 'm just in the middle of doin' something," he heard a male voice that wasn't possessed by anyone he had ever met, in response. It wasn't really deep, but not high either. The words, that had come from his mouth, should have had sounded annoyed, but you could easily hear some kind of calmness and friendliness in them.
If he would had listened for a little longer, he could have heard the girl's comment, that he could like 'this one'. He just murmured, that he really doesn't need her to try to find him anyone. Last time, she had found a cute girl to herself.
Holmes got around the bathroom right to the end of the café and went through the door and found himself in a small space outdoors.
There were three tables and a couple of chairs. A plastic version of an anatomically correct heart was on the wall. It gave the place an artistic savour and Myc loved it here. He sat down on one of the comfortable chairs and in less than a minute, there was a cat next to him.
After a while, he heard footsteps. Rather loud, which was probably caused by robust shoes. More like boots, then.
After another moment the unknown employee showed himself at the door. Male employee. And Mycroft unintentionally held his breath, parted his lips a little and there was an interested glint in his eyes.
He was quite tall, well, not as much as himself, and he had dark, little unruly hair, that fell around his face in hellishly attractive directions. The colour of his eyes harmonized with it. Chocolate. He wore an oversized t-shirt of - probably rock, punk, new wave?- band Buzzcocks. If Mycroft had ever heard of them, he must have had deleted it. He had, maybe a bit tight, jeans on his legs, which were rolled up, because of black Dr Martens shoes. Around his waist, there was an apron with the logo of the café. The look may had seemed tawdry to some, but Mycroft somehow liked it.
He was having a bored expression on his face, but when he saw his today's customer, he did agree with Harriet's words. He was flabbergasted.
The scene he was looking at was just... Wow. Tall slim figure gracefully sitting on a chair with his legs crossed, reddish hair falling to his forehead and next to his long nose... Two beautifully shining blue-grey eyes. The cute furry creature he was stroking was only a bonus.
"Well, here ya go," said Greg with interest and a kind tone in his voice, while he was putting the redhead's order on the table.
"Thank you," whispered the taller of them, his sight on the adorably twisted lips.
Suddenly, the animal wanted to get on the table. Firstly, it hopped on genius' lap and then started to stretch its elegant leg to the piece of furniture. Fortunately, Myc caught it and put it further away before it could snaffle his coffee for itself.
"Young boy here isn't usually keen about strangers touchin' him," the boy with dark eyes pointed out and seductively, without even knowing, looked up from the animal to Mycroft's eyes. Holmes only swallowed empty. He could hardly divert his gaze.
"Well, that's probably because I visit this place quite often. He knows me," said Holmes picking up one of his lip corners. He didn't know where the urge came from. He had never had to seem kind, while talking to strangers.
However, Greg, he remembered that name, was on his way back indoors. Of course, he didn't forget to give him one last warm smile.
Mycroft stayed still in his seat for a few moments. He had never experienced this feeling of amazement and infatuation, nor with such an ordinary person. Although he recently observed, that he was, maybe a little bit against his will, somehow attracted to other people, it had never been so intense.
He had to admit, that he was quite featured, as fit as a fiddle, and looked likable. Like he would give a hoot about those things. There was also something about him, which made him look less stupid than other youngsters of this kind, but, of course, that didn't have to be quite true.
He had never seen him here before. He could be the same age as him, maybe a few years older, he studied college, because everyone who worked here was a student. This place was in fact made for people who wanted to make a little money while being at a university or a college.
He rather stopped the flow of his thoughts, sipped on his drink, and pulled out one of his books. Although it was already after his graduation, learning new things did no harm. Especially with the school, he was preparing to.
He read and did notes from a professional book about the economy. For very very advanced, but he couldn't concentrate. The small creature still rubbed on his leg, too.
So he just sat and closed his eyes for a moment. When he concentrated, he could hear the music and recognize its lyrics, from indoors.
Metallic blue turned red with rust
...
In a group, all forgotten youth
...
And I was looking for a friend of mine
Yeah, looking for some friends of mine
Finally, he started to read a book he genuinely wanted to read. The Trial by Franz Kafka.
He stayed like this for another half an hour and after that, he decided to go, at least. So he packed up everything and set off to pay.
Behind the counter, there were both of them.
"Is it all for today?" Asked Harry with a foxy expression on her face, when Mycroft came to her with an opened wallet.
"Actually," it wasn't gonna hurt him to take another thing. And it sure wasn't because of being here for more brief moments. His bosom felt heavy.
"I'd take one of the thermos." It's practical, right? When he'll be in a rush and need for his caffeine. Or when he'll wanna sit right into the park.
"Ok," she handed him the bill and he paid with a huge tip as ever.
"Can you...?" She turned to the other boy in question. He only nodded and pulled out a paper bag, to which he put the flask in and he also added a biscuit. A big one with chocolate bits.
"But-," Mycroft wanted to protest immediately, but Greg stopped him.
"'s on me," he said with a playful wink and Harry had to turn her back to not spoil their moment with her knowing giggling. She needed to congratulate herself silently.
"So- goodbye," whispered blushing Holmes and he fastly walked to the exit. What the hell was going on inside of him!?
"You like him then? I knew it!" She thought, that this would come out pretty well. The looks they had given each other!
"And? It's none of your business," he said, acting cheesed off. But inside, he was strangely happy. Full of energy. The stress of the whole day disappeared magically.
"Oh, c'mon! He did look like he's interested in you. I know him. Usually, he doesn't talk to people," she raised one eyebrow and smirked. Mycroft wasn't the type of person, who would be distracted by somebody's presence if there wasn't any particular reason. And what she knew, those two hadn't met before.
"Him? In me? Use your eyes properly. He seems so, so... Posh. Imagine it with the coffee, yeah? I'd be the kind people buy home, 50 % off price, needed to drink with a ton ofsugar to be possible to swallow. And him... He's like luxury cappuccino with caramel biscuit on the top." He sighed. Of course, he was okay with the way he was like. He liked his things and style. Although in a situation like this...
"Look, if you'd be a coffee, then double espresso at least, don't worry," Harry tried to calm him. Greg laughed.
"Thanks...," he said in a bit ironical way.
"God!" He sighed again. He couldn't help himself, because that guy looked so ethereal, in the white shirt with slightly wavy hair, his long fingers stroking the cat's fur. And the books around him...
"And, y'know, you haven't thought about wanting to know his name?" Asked Harriet teasingly. She knew, that Greg was all lost in his thoughts.
"Um," the brunet was ashamed, that he hadn't thought about it himself, "yeah."
"Mycroft," fell off Harry's lips somehow secretly. It was an unusual name. It fitted him, though. Actually, the more he repeated it in his mind, the more he liked it. Mycroft. Myc. Mycie. My. My.
"You okay?" The blond girl asked with amusement. Greg hadn't worked here for a long time. Actually only a few days, but they'd known each other for some time thanks to a group of friends.
"Sure," he said dreamily, "well, would you mind me going home now? I swept and settled the things back there," he assured her. He needed to just think. Alone. And he wanted to play his guitar after some time, too.
"Just go," she laughed and started to clean the tables. It was only a little time till closing, so hardly someone could come. She squeezed the paper in her hand tightly.
"Holmes!" She shouted at Lestrade before he came out of the door. He just playfully rolled up his eyes, but in the end, he gave her a grateful smile.
Mycroft Holmes. Myc Holmes. Mycie Holmes. My Holmes.
So he set out on his way home and was thinking. The pavement passed under his feet faster than he perceived, trees in the park cast comfortable shadows from the falling sun, which made beautiful colours in the sky and he unintendedly played with keys in his pocket.
When he came home, there was nobody. Tobias and Alec were off somewhere out, so he had everything for himself. That meant he could play some of their vinyl at full blast. Like, they did it always, but now, there was nobody to argue with. So he took Everybody's Happy Nowadays.
After a while, a different song started to play. It freaked him out. Maybe somebody changed the LPs. But then he realised. He put it on the wrong side of the vinyl. He was mentally somewhere else.
Well, it seems so real I can see it
And it seems so real I can feel it
And it seems so real I can taste it
And it seems so real I can hear it
So why can't I touch it? So why can't I touch it?
His thoughts had gone crazy. True, it wasn't unusual for him, but he tried to hush these. After a while, he stopped to try, because he knew, that he would had push himself into something irresistible. To try to not think about something is awful. Like he hadn't known from the beginning. So he let his fantasy do what it wanted.
Greg. Ummm, that sounded so ordinary. Gregory. That's better. So, a student, he hadn't worked in the café for a long time, he lived with two flatmates not far from there and if he deduced that correctly, he was single right now, too.
He was also quite a sportsman. His strong legs, but not very muscular arms pointed probably to football. That fitted right with the full image of him. Truly. Very. Beautifully. U- stop! He needed to stop when his thoughts flew far away from only a football dress.
He still couldn't find out, what interested him about him so much. Every day there walked crowds of so many similar ordinary people around him. He would leave himself a few more days to think and if he wouldn't find out, he would go there again. His mind influenced by hormones wasn't telling him everything.
And then he remembered...
He jumped unexpectedly fast from his bed and walked to his bag. It was still there. Why on earth would someone give him a biscuit? What it was saying about him? He wasn't in a situation he needed somebody to give him food. He wasn't starving. Maybe it was poisoned. But there wasn't any reason for him to kill him, right? Or he can kill for fun. Well... Other aspects were speaking against it.
So there was only one option left. The biscuit is not poisoned. He wanted to attract his attention. He winked, too. That's a gesture of affection, isn't it? If it's meant seriously. But why? He didn't save his life, god knows, if he noticed the tip, he didn't give him anything, he should pay for...
He craved his attention because he deserved his for some reason. He still didn't understand. He only sat and read! He wasn't the one with shining eyes, devilish smile, and... Fitting trousers.
Now it was definite. He would go there in a few days.