OKAY THIS GOT A BIT LONGER THAN I INTENDED but here Bee here’s your punkstrade
I hope it’s okay. I suppose it’s slightly more Mycroft-centric because that’s how it demanded to be.
The music was loud. Far too loud. Absolutely, cruelly, poundingly loud. And Mycroft hadn’t even entered the building yet. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, sure that he could smell of sweat in the air. He was disgusted by his own sweat, procured from persistent hours at the treadmill his mother had given him at Christmas, and he couldn’t imagine how anybody would willingly subject themselves to a room full of seething bodies coupled with such a clamor.
POON YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH LOVE I HAVE FOR THIS STORY
IT IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. ABSOLUTELY. DIVINE.
MUMSTRAAAADE
