literature

Hazy Through the Smoke: Chapter fourteen

Deviation Actions

Black-Rose-117's avatar
Published:
462 Views

Literature Text

Lestrade woke up the next morning with the bed empty. He grunted, pushed himself – mostly – up, and looked around the bedroom through sleep-heavy lids. He could hear painful sounding moaning from the bathroom and slowly stood, worry etching into his features. He knocked on the door a few times, leaning against the frame and resting his ear to the wood.

“Love?” he asked, listening for any sign that Mycroft was okay. “Dear, can you open the door? Are you okay?”

After a moment’s pause, footsteps padded on the floor and the soft click of a lock sounded. Lestrade pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Love? Are you okay in here?”

“Yeah,” Mycroft grunted, leaning back against the wall across from the mirror, turning his head slightly from one direction to the other, his eyes closed. “My back and neck are just killing me. And my shoulder is a little painful.”

“Dear,” Lestrade sighed, lacing his fingers with Mycroft and pulling on him gently till he coasted away from the wall. He lead him to the bed and pushed him gently till he was laying down. “Turn on your stomach.” Mycroft gave Lestrade a quizzical glance before covering his lower half with the blanket and turning onto his stomach, pillowing his chin on his arms.

Lestrade crawled onto the bed, straddling Mycroft’s lower back and putting all his weight on his legs, making sure none of it was on Mycroft's spine. He pushed the heels of his palms on the center of Mycroft’s back and pushed up at the same time, slowly working his way up to his shoulders. He tried to work out the knots slowly as he went up. He put pressure on Mycroft’s shoulders, just at the crook of his neck, and smiled gently when Mycroft hummed in pleasure. He worked his way back down to Mycroft’s lower back before starting back up to his shoulders. He continued this a few times before bending over and whispering into Mycroft’s ear, “Does this help, love?”

“Em-hum,” Mycroft hummed, his eyes falling closed as Lestrade worked. “Still stings, but that feels so much better.”

Lestrade nodded and moved his hands up to Mycroft’s neck, gently working out the knots there with his fingers. Mycroft moaned quietly in relief and Lestrade couldn’t help but lean down to kiss the base of his skull. He peppered a few kisses around Mycroft’s neck before going back up to sit and work at the knots at a better angle. He kept working for a few minutes, keeping the touches gentle but firm, and kissed his lover between the shoulder blades whenever his hands were up at Mycroft’s neck.

“This is really nice, love, thank you,” Mycroft said, sighing deeply. “But I sadly have to get up for work. Maybe I can return the favor later?”

“I’d like that, love,” Lestrade nodded, kissing Mycroft’s cheek as Mycroft turned his head on its side to look up at Lestrade. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You really did.” Mycroft coughed deeply into his arm as Lestrade maneuvered himself off of Mycroft’s back and to his feet. He waited for Mycroft to stand up before lacing their fingers together and squeezing his hand gently.

They went down the stairs and into the kitchen, Mycroft sitting at the table and Lestrade going to work at the stove.

“Do you need any help, love?” Mycroft asked after a few moments of silence. Lestrade turned to him and smiled.

“Do you want to cut up some strawberries and make us some tea?” he asked, leaning over to peck Mycroft on the lips. Mycroft nodded and stood, getting the strawberries from the fridge and a cutting board, along with a knife, placing them all on the table. He took the strawberries to the sink and rinsed them out, humming quietly as he did so.

He went over to the cutting board with a bowl of strawberries and placed it next to the cutting board, picking one up and beginning to cut it into fourths. The smell of cooking oatmeal filled the kitchen and Mycroft sniffed excitedly at the air. He smiled as Lestrade turned to look at him and chuckled.

“It smells good,” Mycroft blushed, turning back to the strawberries, turning his head to cough into his elbow. “You know I love oatmeal.”

“I know, which is why I’m fixing it,” Lestrade smiled back at Mycroft, setting the spoon down on the counter and going over to the fridge.

Mycroft finished cutting the strawberries and moved them into a bowl, going towards the sink and filling the pot up with water. He placed the pot on the stove and turned to find Lestrade washing out some blueberries.

And blueberries?” Mycroft asked, smiling and going to wrap his arms around his lover’s waist as he bent over the sink. “Man, you’re spoiling me, love.”

“I know how much you love blueberries on your oatmeal, along with strawberries. I figure if you’re going to eat healthy, why not make it something you love to eat?” Lestrade placed the blueberries on the table and turned in Mycroft’s grip, placing his damp hands on Mycroft’s hips, leaning in to kiss him gently. “I just want you happy, love.”

“I am happy,” Mycroft smiled, running one of his hands through Lestrade’s hair. The kettle started to whistle from the stove and Mycroft sighed, pulling from Lestrade’s grip regretfully. “Is the oatmeal ready? I’ll fix us up some cups of tea.”

“Yeah, give it about five more minutes here,” Lestrade nodded, stepping up next to Mycroft and stirring the oatmeal with the spoon.

Mycroft got to work with the tea bags, placing one in each cup than pouring the steaming hot water over each bag. He added the cream and sugar to each of their likings and carried the cups over to the table. He sat down, cradling his cup in his hands as he watched Lestrade work from the back. He watched the man spoon them both nice big bowls of oatmeal and carry both bowls, along with the blueberries, over to the table. He sat down across from Mycroft and pulled two spoons from the drawer behind him. He spooned them both some blueberries and strawberries onto the oatmeal and passed one of the warm bowls to Mycroft, who smiled and took it gratefully.

“Thank you, love,” he said, quickly spooning up a bite with a piece of strawberry on it and blowing on it. “Looks amazing!”

“I hope so,” Lestrade laughed, spooning a bit up as well and blowing on it before taking a cautious bite. He gasped as his eyes watered and he forced the bite down. “Still… really hot,” he explained, panting slightly and waving a hand towards his mouth to cool it down. Mycroft chuckled and leaned across the table to peck Lestrade on the corner of the mouth.

“Careful, love,” he chided, sitting back and blowing on his spoonful some more. He took a bite and smiled as the creamy oatmeal ran over his tongue. “Thank you again, love. This is amazing.”

Lestrade nodded and the room fell silent. They finished their breakfasts quickly, placed their bowls in the sink and followed each other up stairs to get ready for the day. Lestrade dressed quickly as Mycroft used the bathroom and went through his routine, switching out when both were done. Lestrade was in the middle of brushing his teeth when Mycroft came into the room messaging his neck with one hand and straightening his tie with the other.

“I’ll be home around nine or so tonight,” Mycroft muttered, abandoning rubbing his neck to peck Lestrade on the cheek and place a light hand on the man’s hip. “Long day today; apparently the governors of Turkey and Greece are having some sort of issues again - God help me if they’re going to throw America in the mix and attempt to kick off World War Three.”

“A little dramatic, aren’t you, love?” Lestrade chuckled after spitting out his toothpaste and turning to lean against the counter and stare at Mycroft. “I’m sure it’s just some sort of trade issue or something of the sort; don’t worry too much or stress yourself out over it. You’ll figure it out without too many problems, I know it.”

“Thanks,” Mycroft said halfheartedly as Lestrade reached up to fix his tie just an inch. “I’ll text you later. Maybe I can sneak out in time to meet you on your lunch break.”

“That sounds nice,” Lestrade smiled, pecking Mycroft on the lips gently before the other man pulled away.

“I’ll text you, then,” he said, smiling at his lover and heading out of the room. He went down to his car and climbed in, telling the driver to start towards work.

He leaned back into the seat of the darkened window car, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. He felt his throat tightening up and fought back the tickling urge to cough loudly. His cough has been getting worse over the past few days, becoming more and more frequent and harder and harder to control. He hated it – not being in control of his body at all times. It made him feel weak even if it was something as stupid and small as a cough. He had to maintain control, no matter what it was. It was just the way he was.

So when he was forced to double over as his chest tightened up and he was thrown into a coughing fit, he cursed every god that he could possibly think of for putting him through this little slice of personal hell. After a good five minutes, when he was finally able to sit up straight, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. His chest was heaving for air and the gasps he took were short and wheezing-like.  It took him longer than it should have to catch his breath, soon throwing him into another coughing fit that lasted until they pulled into the parking lot of his office.

He took a few wheezing gulps of air, blinked, sighed, and pushed himself out of the car. His briefcase was in his right hand which flexed around the handle. He willed all cough attacks down as he moved swiftly towards his office, waving off Anthea on the way to get to his office faster. The elevator dinged on his office floor and he stepped out, moving quickly down the hallway and shutting the door to his office once he was inside. He leaned against the hard oak wood as another coughing fit took him over, leaving him to double over and all but throw his breakfast up.

Once he could breath normally again, Mycroft went over to his desk and sat down heavily. He dropped his head into his hands and stared at the green mat on his desk. He could feel the room spinning around him and closed his eyes, willing the world to just stop for a moment and let him get back to normal. Unfortunately, the universe didn't answer his wish and a soft knock came from his door, followed by the small clicking noise of Anthea's high heels as she let herself into the room.

"Sir?" she asked, taping away at her phone as she spoke, not looking up at her boss. This gave Mycroft the few seconds he needed to raise his head and fix his tie, making himself more presentable. "Your meeting is in ten minutes. Shall I let them know you'll be ready?"

"Please," Mycroft said, nodding, his voice not as strong.

Anthea raised her head to look at her boss. She was one of the few people who could read Mycroft well, and Mycroft knew this, so he put on his best face and waited for her to leave. She nodded when she seemed satisfied and turned on her heels to leave the room, her attention back on her phone.

"Ten minutes, sir," she said over her shoulder before the door could close.

Mycroft waited until he could no longer hear the click of heels before pulling his top desk drawer open. He pulled out a small bottle of pills and downed three of them, hoping to help the spinning of the room. When it did slow down, he stood, moved over to the mirror he had in his office and fixed his tie. He tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, making his hair perfectly pulled back and slick.

Moving back over to his desk, Mycroft opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a small pile of papers, placing them neatly in his brief case and locking them inside. Once he was sure everything was perfect, he locked his office door behind him and started down the long hallway, going over his speech in his head and major key points that he was going to have to go over. His stomach was cramping up slightly but it was nothing he couldn't ignore. Right now, the meeting was the most important thing, no matter what Mycroft was coming down with.

He made it to the conference room at the end of the hallways and pushed the door open, seeing two other men in neatly pressed business suits sitting at the long red wood table, brief cases laying open next to their folded hands.
Mr. Kaya, the Turkish governor, and Mr. Balli, the Greek governor, both turned towards Mycroft as he entered.

"Evening, gentlemen," Mycroft greeted, nodding at the two of them before taking his own seat.

" 'Ello, Mr. Holmes," Mr. Balli greeted, Mr. Kaya just nodding his hello. "Shall we get started?"

"Please," Mycroft waved to the front of the room where a projector was all set up. Mr. Balli bowed his head and stood, taking his place at the projector.

As he started his power point, Mycroft leaned back in his chair and just listened, fighting the tickle in the back of his throat. He quietly tried to clear his throat, but nothing would get that small itch go away. It was difficult to concentrate the longer the power point went on, and Mycroft soon found himself more focused on not coughing than what Mr. Balli was actually saying. He had to pay attention, what Mr. Balli was saying was important. But that little tickle just wouldn't go away...

"Mr. Holmes?"

Mycroft snapped back to the power point at the sound of his name, Mr. Balli watching him with a raised eyebrow. Mycroft rubbed his eyes and silently scolded himself for letting himself get distracted by such a small thing.

"My apologies," Mycroft said, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, folding his hands on the table.

"Are you alright? You seem to be sweating quit a bit," Mr. Kaya said from beside him. Mycroft whipped his brow with the hanky he kept in his suit pocket. "And your breathing is a bit... abnormal."

"My apologies, I assure you, I am fine," Mycroft said even though his body was screaming otherwise. The temperature in the room seemed to be raising very quickly and he could feel his suit becoming warmer and warmer. "I just- don't feel at the top of my game at the moment. Please, do continue with what you were saying, Mr. Balli."

"Right. As I was saying-"

Mycroft did his best to listen to Mr. Balli as the room seemed to get hotter and hotter. He could feel his suit start to cling to his body and his hands become clammy. Breathing was becoming labored and the room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller with every moment that ticked by. He pulled at his suit collar, trying to drag more oxygen into his lungs but all that he could feel was a burning flame in his chest. Sweat was trickling down his brow and he whipped at it as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"Mr. Holmes-"

The room seemed to be getting smaller and tighter as Mycroft fought for oxygen. He stood, pacing to a window and pushing it open, hoping for a cool breeze to come through and take this fire out of his lungs, but all that came through was the warm London air.

"Mr. Holmes-"

The room was too small, the walls too close together. It was all Mycroft could do to move away from the window before they closed around him and his vision went black.
© 2013 - 2024 Black-Rose-117
Comments2
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
dragonfly36's avatar

OH MY GOD you need to write more you can't just leave it there.