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“I’m home.” Mycroft called out as he opened the door. Greg glanced at the clock, it was ten in the evening. Late, as always. Greg listened to Mycroft’s footsteps approaching him, part of him wished Mycroft would head off to bed without talking to him.
“Hey,” Mycroft sat on the sofa, placing his hand on Greg’s outstretched leg.
“Hello,” Greg mumbled, eyes fixed on the tv. Not that he was interested in the football match, or in anything to be honest.
“Bad day?” Mycroft asked.
“It was fine.” he shrugged. His day was fine, compared to the many shitty days he’d been having lately.
“Mine was long.”
“Noticed.” Mycroft’s days were getting longer and longer. Greg knew why, Mycroft got bored of him. Not surprising. I’m not as interesting or intelligent as him. I can’t be good company, even my friends avoid me. Mycroft avoids me, can even remember when was the last time we slept together…or he doesn’t find me attractive? Granted, I’m not handsome,
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Mycroft said softly, interrupting Greg’s thoughts.
“Nothing,” Greg mumbled. Nothing that would interest you. Knowing how messed up I am, how empty I feel, you would leave immediately. Please don’t leave. Stay…just a little longer.
“I know something is.”
“Nothing!” he said more forcefully. Mycroft had more important things to deal with—the world, his brother. He didn’t need to hear Greg whining about feeling broken.
“I’ve noticed that these past weeks you are…not yourself.”
“Did you?” he snorted. How would you notice, you were barely home. Or that is why you weren’t coming home…not wanting to see my sour face.
“Yes. Is there any way I can help?”
“I’m fine.”
“You are clearly not.” Mycroft turned off the tv.
“I was watching that.” Greg protested, finally looking at him.
“Gregory, darling.” Mycroft slid closer.
“I’m tired,” Greg stood up. “Night,”
Before he could leave, Mycroft caught his wrist. “Please don’t close me out.”
“I’m tired and not in the mood for a chat.”
“You never are,”
“Yeah, well…you are never home!” Greg snapped.
“I know. I’m trying my best but…” he sighed. “You are right. I should put you first.”
“Not what I meant,” Greg said quickly, panic flaring. He did not want to seem clingy, needy.
“You can say it Gregory. Anything you wish me to change,” Mycroft said gently.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine.” Greg blinked back tears. Mycroft will leave me. He will leave me if I say what annoys me.
“I’m not perfect Gregory.” Mycroft got up, lacing their fingers. “I have flaws, habits that annoy you…but please tell me. I want this relationship to work,”
“It is fine, we are fine.”
“Are we?” Mycroft tilted his head, looking at Greg expectantly.
Greg held his gaze for a few seconds but he had to look away.
“It’s not you…it’s me. I’m so tired.” He whispered resigned, tears rolling down his cheeks. “No matter how much I sleep…I’m exhausted. Nothing interests me. The things I used to love, hobbies, friends…just don’t care about them. Even work feels pointless.” Greg took a trembling breath. “You work late, so I’m home alone a lot. It is so quiet without you…but when you get home I wish I was alone. I know I don’t make any sense.” Mycroft only squeezed his hand. “So when I’m home I just stare at whatever's on the telly so I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”
“Why did you think you could not share this with me?”
“You have the world to look after.”
“You are my world Gregory.”
Greg rolled his eyes. “That’s terribly cheesy,”
“Might be, but it is the truth.”
Greg swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to fix it. How to fix me.”
“We’ll figure it out together. It doesn't have to be tonight,” Mycroft kissed him. “Just please know I’m here for you, always.”
“Okay,” Greg let Mycroft pull him to a tight hug.