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A heartfelt noise woke Gregory from his peaceful slumber. Loud and deep like the sound of a locomotive engine from a century in the past he had had the good fortune of not existing in. It was pitch black in the room, and with the grogginess of sleep clinging to the edges of his conscious mind still, he assessed his current situation using his half awake senses.
The sound persisted. Gregory felt himself rise and fall in the rhythm of steady but strong breathing right below him. A firm chest clothed in silk. His husband, Mycroft, he concluded quickly. He had somehow ended up lying completely on top of the other sleeping man, who seemed largely unbothered by the fact given he had a warm hand resting on Grgeory’s waist. He huffed, eyes still closed. Maybe he had overslept and the works doing their neighbors remodeling had begun their daily symphony of chain saws and drills.
Greg groaned deeply at the thought, cursing internally for getting those damned black out curtains Mycroft had insisted upon. He simply was too tired to move a muscle still, and tried squinting his eyes to get a peak of Mycroft’s nightstand clock. Red blinking letters informed him it was not actually time for constructors to be out and about and was rather 2:03 in the morning. He huffed out confused and just as Mycroft sucked in his next breath he realized what the cause of such deeply disturbing noise was. Or rather who was the cause.
It was right above him. His beloved. Mycroft Holmes, snoring up a storm by Greg was trying to sleep for christ's sake.
Still with the remnants of sleep making his brain impulsive, set into overdrive to destroy whatever it was that was between him and sleeping, he rolled off of Mycroft and threw a small decorative pillow in his direction.
There was a loud gasp. A choking sound. And then the rapid shift of the bed as Mycroft shot up from his sleeping position and looked around the room desperately.
“Wh-” He cleared his throat twice, “What’s going on?!” Mycroft exclaimed. He turned to his side and saw the narrowing of Greg’s eyes and pursed lips.
“You-” He stopped himself and thought for a moment. “Uh well you…were snoring. Loudly”
Mycroft’s eyes widened and he stumbled over his words, “Wh-I? I-I don’t snore Gregory what in heaven's name”
Greg snorted and looked at him incredulously, “Yes, honey, I’m afraid you do.”
“Impossible”
“Darling, I believe it was that horrendous noise which woke me up just now”
“But Gregory-”
“You must stop immediately, I wish to sleep.”
“I-”
“Goodnight love” He said with some finality and turned to his side of the bed, throwing on the covers and snuggling into his pillow.
Mycroft sighed from the other side and did the same.
------
The next day resulted in a quite grumpy Greg. He had slept poorly following Mycroft’s snoring incident and quite frankly he desired to return home and nap after work. Maybe he’d even order take away.
He was confused, in the many years he and Mycroft had been together and shared a bed, he had never snored. Mycroft was in fact not a snorer at all. Greg always thought it would be himself, what with all the beer he drank and his terrible sleeping habits. Perhaps there could be a way to get Mycroft to stop snoring during the night. He could, maybe, gently roll him to his side and get him some of those nasal strips. Sleeping in a different room was most certainly not an option. The side effects of living with someone for so long and sharing a bed were that now Greg had a particularly difficult time if Mycroft was not also in the bed with him. He couldn’t really explain why but at this point in his life it just felt like something was missing, and the unconscious distress made it impossible for him to sleep.
When he got home, he sank into their couch and flicked through some channels on the telly for a while before inevitably dozing off with the remote control still in hand. A couple minutes of resting before ordering dinner would do him no harm surely.
When Mycroft arrived home, he felt the stillness of the environment immediately. It was unusual, given Gregory often enjoyed cooking while listening to music when he arrived home. He had been grumpy and half alive in the morning over breakfast, perhaps such a foul mood had followed him all day. Mycroft sighed and toed off his shoes near the entryway. He could do many things with his mind and his brain, however, he had little control over any of it during sleep. As pathetic as it sounded, he felt a little helpless and sorry to his lover.
As he got closer to the living room, he heard it. Faint but still very much the sound of a person…snoring. He stood over Gregory, stunned, as the man laid on the couch, head thrown back snoring softly as the news played out on the TV. Mycroft couldn't help but chuckle at the sight and shake his head as he grabbed a small cushion from their loveseat and chucked it at his lover's face just as he had done earlier that day.
Greg snorted loudly as he lifted his head and looked at the direction from which the cushion had been thrown.
“Mycroft what the hell!” He exclaimed, just as thoroughly pissed off as he had been at 2:03 am. Mycroft smiled at him, hands in pockets and leaning back on his heels.
“You were snoring, darling”
“Mycroft!” Greg bellowed, “I was not!”
“Yes, you were”
“You’re just saying that to get back at me!”
“I wish I was lying” Mycroft laughed as he dodged a cushion flying through the air.
“No you don’t”
Mycroft laughed gleefully as he dodged again, “Yeah you’re right I’m not…this is excellent. You snore!”
He quickly turned on his heels and walked quickly towards the kitchen.
“Get back here!”
“I wish not to discuss this further, my love, you were snoring on the couch. I’m surprised you didn't wake from the very sound of it.”
Greg pouted, looking a bit defeated even though he was a grown man. “I can’t believe it”
Mycroft leaned over closer to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Don’t worry my darling, I don’t mind. I still love you as much as I did yesterday.”
Greg scowled and let his head fall on Mycroft’s shoulder. “I love you too, honey…but we will be going to a sleep clinic”
Mycroft groaned. “No…”
“Yes. It’s final. There will be no snoring from anybody in this house!”
-----
It was once more the middle of the night sometime a couple weeks after their travels to the sleep clinic. Mycroft was spooning Greg as they slept, a position which kept them on their sides and prevented the dreadful snoring.
They both stirred simultaneously when they heard a loud roaring sound from the corner of their bedroom. Greg rose to prop himself on his elbow and looked around.
The sound of a deep snore broke the silence again.
Greg groaned and felt Mycroft rise behind him.
“Mycroft, your brother’s damn dog is snoring!” He whined and from behind him he felt Mycroft grab a pillow and throw it in the general direction of the sound.
“Hush Gladstone there will be no snoring in this household.” Mycroft grumbled sleepily and dragged Greg down back into their comfortable snuggle.
“He’s sleeping in the guest room tomorrow…and no more pet sitting while Sherlock and John are on vacation” Greg murmured as he let himself be manhandled into strong arms.
Mycroft merely hummed and pressed a kiss on the hot skin of Greg’s neck before falling asleep once more. Who knew his usually laid back husband would be so uptight about snoring?