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The sunlight peaks through the blinds where they forgot to close the curtains entirely the night before. A strip of light shines directly onto Mycroft’s face, rousing him from his sweet dreams and peaceful slumber. He rolls to tuck his face into the neck of his bedside partner of the morning, breathing in Sherlock’s sleep-heavy scent while he continues to snore lightly.
Mornings like these are some of Mycroft’s favorites. The ones where he has nowhere to be or nothing that is demanding his attention urgently. This way he can wake up slowly, take in his surroundings, and choose how he wants the day to go. Mainly, Mycroft loves mornings like these because he wakes up with the love of his life right beside him.
Mycroft pulls away slightly to gaze at his brother’s relaxed face. In his sleep, Sherlock looks his most peaceful, which always puts Mycroft at ease. Mycroft knows that having a mind like Sherlock’s not being constantly stimulated is a recipe for disaster and anytime that Sherlock is at ease and out of trouble is a time Mycroft has come to cherish.
When they were younger and Sherlock first started to grow into his looks, Mycroft would not admit that he was jealous of him, but he was. Now Mycroft is only jealous of the people who get to boldly ogle his lover in public while he has to hide his affections for when no one is around and can see them. Mornings like these, Mycroft will take his time to admire Sherlock’s beauty. From his kaleidoscope eyes that are currently hiding behind constantly moving pale eyelids, to the thick, dark eyelashes that are resting on the sharpest cheekbones he has ever seen on a person. To those bow shaped lips he loves to kiss, especially to stop the constant flow of deductions the young boy has to make to occupy his mind. Mycroft is in love with a God. he thinks.
“Usually I like you staring at me, but when I wake up to it, I can admit it is kind of creepy,” Sherlock mumbles sleepily.
Mycroft hums before replying softly, “your beauty simply deserves to be admired at all times, dearest mine. Do forgive me for making you uncomfortable, that was not my intention.”
Sherlock turns his head to face Mycroft and rolls his eyes. While tangling their fingers together he says “Never made uncomfortable by your stare, Mycie. I quite like your eyes on me.” Sherlock gives Mycroft a wide grin before bringing their combined hands to his mouth to place a kiss to the back of Mycroft’s hand.
Before Mycroft can reply, Sherlock is already stretching and yawning loudly. Mycroft lets go of Sherlock’s hand to watch him roll out of bed and make his way to the ensuite to get ready for their day inside together. He forgoes finding the sleep trousers he slipped off before sliding into bed beside Mycroft and instead walks into the bathroom stark naked. Sherlock pauses in the doorway to shoot a cocky grin Mycroft’s way.
“Well are you gonna join me or are you gonna lay in bed all day, Mycie,” Sherlock asks coquettishly.
Sherlock throws him a wink and disappears through the door. No sooner than he’s gone does Mycroft hear the shower turn on and Sherlock’s clear baritone humming soothing melodies.
Mycroft takes a few more moments to enjoy the sun on his face and the full feeling in his chest that this morning has given him, before he rises from the bed and goes to join his lover in the shower.
“Coming dearest,” Mycroft says with a soft smile reserved solely for Sherlock.
Mornings like these, Mycroft decides, are definitely his favorite.