Give Me A Label (I'll Make Confetti)

Chapter 13: School Can Be Fun

Greg was out of bed and dressed for school by seven. Maggie stared at him as he slathered jam over his toast, eating while checking his phone. She wondered if her son's suddenly bright mood had anything to do with the "friend" he'd been texting last night.

Maggie Lestrade wasn't blind, nor was she an idiot. She knew that her son slept around and had never had a boyfriend. Though Maggie didn't like the way Greg conducted himself with young men, there was nothing she could do.

Greg used condoms, he never forced anyone to do something they weren't into, and he didn't bring strange blokes home. He got himself checked out monthly at her request, was always polite to people in public, and had never been in too much trouble at school or with the police.

So she respected his privacy and hoped that one day he'd grow out of it, meet someone, and settle down. Greg was only seventeen, he didn't have to decide his entire future now, nor did he have to get a serious boyfriend.

But Greg had never looked as happy as he had the previous night while texting his "mate". Greg had never smiled like that, had never ignored his dinner in favour of texting someone. Maggie had been under the assumption that Greg either really liked sex, or hadn't found someone who could keep him interested.

Well, it seemed that was changing (not that Greg would ever admit that). He was being extremely weird about who he'd been texting, and Maggie had to wonder if her son had finally found someone he really liked.

At ten past seven Greg finished off his breakfast, kissed his mum on the cheek, and left whistling under his breath and smiling stupidly.

{oOo}

Greg didn't realise how early it was until he pulled up in the school carpark. He checked his phone, found it was just after 7:30 and frowned. Classes didn't start until 8:30... what the hell was he supposed to do for an hour?

Cursing under his breath, Greg pocketed his keys and walked across the grass towards the smokers' area, figuring he'd sit and stuff around on his phone until his mates turned up or the bell went.

Greg sat with his back pressed to the bricks, helmet on the concrete beside him, and lit a cigarette. He blew smoke above his head and started tapping at his phone, checking his email, Facebook, and generally just wasting time.

When a shadow fell over him, Greg looked up, and couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face when he saw Mycroft.

The other teenager's uniform was absolutely perfect; his shirt was tucked in, all the buttons done up, and his navy-blue tie was pulled up to the collar. His blazer was also buttoned, his ginger-brown hair perfectly combed, his grey trousers pressed and leather shoes shined to perfection.

Despite all that- despite Mycroft looking like the posh git Greg had known for two years- the older teenager's heart still leapt, and he felt a definite stirring in his trousers. He could still see the real Mycroft under all that; the slight smirk pulling at his lips, the commanding presence, the spark in his eyes, and the absolutely gorgeous arse his school trousers were hiding.

'Good morning, Gregory,' Mycroft said.

'Hey,' Greg said, practically leaping to his feet. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, threw his half-finished cigarette aside, and crushed his lips against Mycroft's.

'Mmf- Greg!'

Greg groaned and pulled back. 'What?'

'What are you doing?' Mycroft demanded.

'Erm... snogging you?' Greg tried.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Yes, I am aware of that.'

'So why'd you ask?'