The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Eight

Greg

My heart was racing and my legs felt wobbly. Surely my oesophagus wasn't supposed to feel like it was closing over. I was nervous about my punishment. That was it. It wasn't that I was nervous to see Mr. Holmes or because I had to be alone with him for however long he decided to sit out a punishment. But no matter how much I told myself that, I couldn't convince myself that that was true. I was nervous to see him.

I got to his office room thing and went inside. His personal assistant, who went by he name of Anthea, looked up at me from her phone, which seemed to be permanently stuck to her hand.

"Erm," I coughed nervously as I walked over to her desk. "I'm here to see Mr. Holmes."

She sighed. "He's not going to be happy with you." Buzzing the intercom, she informed Mr. Holmes that I had arrived.

A moment later, the door to his private office opened, and the assistant headmaster came out, a smile on his face. "Ah, Mr. Lestrade, here at last! Come in!"

I shot Anthea a look that kind of said 'Well there!' And followed him into his office.

Mr. Holmes had moved to stand by his desk, but as I went in, he walked towards me. My heart caught in my throat and I kicked myself for being so nervous. I was Greg Lestrade, the school student heartthrob. Every day I had girls throwing themselves at me. Why was I so damn nervous?!

He walked right past me, his arm brushing against mine as he did so, and closed the door. "Take a seat, Mr. Lestrade," he said in a bored tone, coming back into my line of sight.

He sat down in his seat, and I practically fell into the one opposite him. He was gorgeous. It was like every time I saw him, it struck me all over again. His hair was messy, but in a way that suggest he'd been running his hands through it. He looked ragged and sexy. His white shirt clung to his muscular torso and it was coming untucked slightly at his trousers.

I licked my lips and looked away awkwardly, tapping my fingers on the armrests of my seat. I could feel Mr. Holmes' eyes on me, and I purposely avoided them.

"What would you like to do?"

"Huh?" I looked up at the assistant headmaster, surprised by his question. He shot me a disapproving look and I quickly fixed my mistake. "I mean, pardon?"

"What would you like to do? You're here for an hour. I don't expect you to just sit there awkwardly avoiding eye contact," he let out a huff of laughter, and even that sounded elegant. "It's uncomfortable for both of us."

"I thought I was under punishment?"

"I'm sorry, did you want me to make you write out lines? Pick up rubbish, perhaps?"

I furrowed my brows. "No, I mean, what can I do?"

Mr. Holmes shrugged. "I don't know. Anything, within reason I suppose."

I looked around and saw his bookshelves. I stood up and walked over to them, looking through the books. He had all sorts of books, text books, books that looked ancient, even some classics.

I jumped as I heard him speak behind me. I hadn't even heard him approaching. "If you're looking for a book to read, I'd suggest Moby Dick," his voice deepened as he said the title and I felt my skin redden. He stood so close I could feel his heat radiating off his body. My legs were wobbling and I could've sworn my colour would've rivalled a tomato. To make matters worse, he leaned past me, and I could feel his shoulder press against the back of mine, and smelt the expensive-smelling cologne on his skin. He smelt deliciously-intoxicating. He grabbed the book from off the shelf and stepped back again.

I swallowed quickly and then turned around too. Luckily Mr. Holmes had moved away, putting the book on his mahogany desk. He looked out the window, out towards the gym. I wondered if he ever saw me out there running in the morning, or if he had seen me sitting on the bench the other night as he left the school late, and not just as he passed by, as I had thought.

His hands were clasped behind his back, and I stared at him. I could almost see the muscles in his back through the tight fabric of his shirt and his trousers easily must've cost at least two hundred quid. There was no point in denying it. I had a hopeless crush on a man. An assistant headmaster man, no less. Of course it would happen to me.

"I... Erm..." I swallowed quickly to try stop my mouth from completely drying. "Thank you."

I sat back down at the chair opposite his, and purposefully pulled it inside my lap was concealed by the desk. Mr. Holmes turned once more and sat opposite me. He didn't even look in my direction once as I picked up the book, thinking about the way he had said Moby Dick. I shook my head and began to read.

I couldn't make sense of the book. The words were foreign -unabridged as they were - and my mind was racing. I looked up at Mr. Holmes, who was staring at his computer screen. "Can I help you with something, Mr. Lestrade?" He sighed, still not looking at me.

"I... No, I'm fine."

The man rolled his eyes, but I saw the corners of his lips pull up ever so slightly. I let out a breathy chuckle and tried to continue reading the book that had been so sensually offered to me.

It was no use. Every few seconds I found myself looking up at Mr. Holmes. He was biting his lower lip and a strand of his hair fell into his eyes just slightly. I watched how his chest rose and fell, and wondered how such an amazing, brutally handsome man could exist, and why it was me who had to have a crush on him. And then I remembered that I wasn't the only one who liked him.

"Thank you, Mr. Lestrade," he said suddenly, making me jump. "You may go now. See you same time day after tomorrow."

I dropped the book on the man's desk and practically jogged out of the office, unable to work out whether this punishment was serving as a blessing or curse.