A/N: Hey hey everyone! I'll be honest - I chickened out on this chapter. I was going to add in sexual stuff but I kind of like it how they're just enjoying each other's company at the moment. But if you guys want that sort of stuff, let me know and I'll add it in in the next chapter. On the side (maybe, I'm not sure with this newer 'works' layout) there should be a video of Kathy's Song by Simon and Garfunkel. I had to give Mycroft my music tastes in this, I feel he'd be a S&G kinda guy. But yeah, Kathy's song is really rather beautiful so I recommend listening to it! I love you all and I hope you're all having wonderful days or nights, and p.s - I'm so sorry about the salmon part I know nothing about salmon or how to cook it :P

-CH

Greg

Everything Mycroft had was amazing. His house was amazing, his shower was amazing, he was amazing.

As I'd already told him, Mycroft's house was a mansion. No matter how he denied it, there was no doubt about it. The place was huge and open, with fluffy white carpets and modern furniture. There was a fireplace in the main room, within it a fire fully ablaze. Everything was beautiful, exquisite, and hugely reflecting the owner himself. I went into the upstairs bathroom and turned on the shower, looking at myself for a moment in the mirror. My hair was all mussed up from the game and kissing Mycroft, and there was mud on my face. I turned around and turned on the shower, and to my surprise - and yet in some contradictory way I wasn't surprised at all - the water was hot immediately.

I stripped off my clothes and got into the shower. It was surprisingly spacious, probably able to fit at least another person. I smirked to myself. That could be fun. The streams of water were strong and massaged my back. It was so great I let out an embarrassing moan. If only they had those showers in Baskerville. 

I washed my hair and my body (the latter of which I made sure I'd cleaned thoroughly) before begrudgingly turning the shower off, getting out and drying myself off. I got back into my clothes and tried to tidy my hair which stuck up at all angles. I managed to smooth it down, and then I headed back downstairs.

I found Mycroft in the kitchen, with his back towards me. He hadn't noticed me behind him, so I quietly sat down on the stool behind the kitchen island and watched him move around, occasionally glancing at his bum which looked glorious albeit hidden under his trousers and pants. It looked like he was trying to cook salmon. And by the sounds of it, it wasn't going too well. Every so often he'd curse under his breath, something about how if it was a person he'd have it instantaneously incarcerated. At that, I let out a chuckle, unable to help myself. Mycroft spun around quickly. 

"Greg!" He gasped. "How long have you been there for?!"

"A while," I said, continuing to chuckle. "Do you want help?"

"No, it's fine," Mycroft said quickly. I'd thought he couldn't get anymore brutally handsome, and then I saw his sheepish look and proved myself wrong.

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"Because you sound like you're having a bit of trouble there."

Mycroft sighed and gestured towards the cooker. "Go on, then."

I chuckled again and wandered over to the cooker. "Mycroft?" 

"Yes, Gregory?" He replied in his 'teacher' voice. 

"What were you aiming to make?"

"Crispy salmon."

"You know this isn't at all how you do it, right?"

"No."

"Do you know how to make salmon?"

"I've never done it before, but it seems fairly simple, you just-"

"You fry it, you don't actually put it in the cooker," I interrupted him. "That's what makes it crispy."

I turned to look at him in time to see him groan and bury his head in his hands. "It looked so easy."

I rubbed his shoulders sympathetically. "Should we get takeout instead?"

"Good idea. Chinese?"

"Sounds good to me."

Mycroft went and grabbed a menu and his phone. I told him what I wanted and he ordered for me and himself. Hanging up, he sighed and fell back onto the seat by the fire, pulling me down on top of him, making both of us laugh. Mycroft buried his face into my neck, and I chuckled as his hair tickled my nose. 

"I really enjoy being with you, Greg," he said earnestly, nipping at my sensitive skin. 

"Mm, I enjoy being with you too, Sir."

Mycroft growled. "I love it when you call me that. It drives me insane."

"Oh? Kinky."

He shifted me so that I was straddling his waist and held onto my waist. I doubted if there'd ever come a day when he didn't amaze me with all that he was. He was the most gorgeous person I'd ever seen, there was no denying that. He was beautiful and intelligent and he made me feel so good inside just by looking into my eyes. I absently caressed his cheeks, still gazing into his vibrant green eyes. God, I love you, I thought to myself. I love you like I've never loved anything before. I don't think I could ever stop loving you. 

"What are you thinking about?" Mycroft murmured, a gentle smile on his face. 

"You," I replied lowly. 

"Oh really? What about me?"

"I was just thinking that you're beautiful," I said, kissing his forehead. "You're intelligent and kind and I'm fairly certain that you're perfect."

Mycroft snorted but kissed me back. "You must be talking about yourself."

"Oh, believe me," I said, running my hands along his sides, "I'm really not."

There was a knock on the door, and Mycroft stood up, still holding me, and put me back on the seat. I watched as he grabbed his wallet and walked to the door. Wow. I was with that man. I was with the assistant headmaster about to have dinner with him. And this wasn't in a restaurant, this was in his house. He lived there, he went home there every night. He sat where I was sat, he showered in the shower I'd showered in. He slept in that house, had sex in that house - and would I do that with him too that night?

"Alright?" Mycroft asked as he came back with the food. I realised he'd also turned some music on as he came through. 

I smiled up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

We ate in a comfortable quietness, talking only briefly, and when it was finished, Mycroft disposed of the rubbish and rejoined me on the ground where we'd moved to. He let out a sigh and rested his head against my shoulder. I think I love you, I thought to myself as I looked down at him, knowing I'd already thought similarly earlier in the evening. I think I love you in a way I'll never love again. I feel so warm and content being here with you and I kind of don't ever want to leave.

As though reading my thoughts, he turned his head upwards, his lips brushing against my own. "What's this song?" I asked as something of a love song came on through his stereo.

"Kathy's Song by Simon and Garfunkel."

"You like Simon and Garfunkel?"

"Love them," Mycroft corrected. "I'm not a fan of love songs though, but this one's too beautiful not to love."

I let out a breath of laughter and cuddled into Mycroft's side, listening to the song. I had to agree with him - I wasn't a fan of love songs either, but the words of that song in particular really spoke to me. 

"And so you see," Mycroft sang along, turning to look me in the eyes, "I have come to doubt all that I once held as true. I stand alone, without beliefs, the only truth I know is you." And as though nothing had happened, he smiled softly and turned away once more. It was as though he didn't know that one, probably minor action made me tear up in happiness or feel my chest tighten. And no one at school would suspect it either, that I, the rugby captain who got all the girls, would be so gooey all because of a sung song. If they knew, I'd be called a pansy, probably. I'd be a wimp or a 'fag' or any other number of things, but I didn't care. I was happy.