Mycroft Holmes' Stag Do
This is my first story I'm putting on the internet. I do not have a beta or any talent really. If you don't like it please just leave.
Gregory Lestrade was sitting at home, alone three nights before his wedding because John blood Watson decided that him and his future husband both deserved to have stag nights. Even though everyone knew it was just a lame excuse to have two parties. Tonight was Mycroft Holmes stag do, tomorrow would be Greg's.
Greg's phone rang and, checking the caller I.D to see it was John calling, Greg answered.
"yes John? Is Mycroft too much of a party animal and you need me to pick him up?" he joked into the phone.
"actually….yes. Sherlock spiked his drink with some very strong, very illegal, homemade alcohol." Greg could hear a loud commotion in the back ground and could swear he could hear Mycroft, oh dear god, he could hear Mycroft woo-ing. "Please Greg, please come get him. Now."
"yeah…yeah…on my way. Punch Sherlock for me."
Without waiting for a response Greg hung up the phone and rushed out the door of his and Mycroft's flat to rush over to 221B.
When he got there he could hear the music blasting from the street. It was some sort of upbeat pop and Greg knew he was in trouble. Alcohol plus Mycroft plus pop music only equaled on thing, trouble. He raced up the stairs to John and Sherlock's flat taking two steps at a time. When he opened the door he smacked his hand to his face. Standing on the table was a very drunk Mycroft, and a very sober Anthea, dancing, scream singing on the top of their lungs.
Mycroft grabbed Anthea and gave her a quick peck on the lips and sang, "I KISSED A GIRL AND I LIKED IIIIIIIIIIT! TASTE OF HER CHERRY CHAPSTICK! I KISSED A GIRL JUST TO TRY IIIIIT HOPE MY FIANCÉ DON'T MIND IIIIIIIT!"
Just as he was about to lean in to kiss Anthea again Gregory pulled him down from the table with a scowl. Mycroft flung his arms around Greg and yelled, "I kissed a girl, did you mind it?" and collapsed in Gregory's arms in a fit of giggles.
"Enabler." Greg muttered darkly to Anthea who was trying very hard (and failing miserably) to look innocent.
Greg dragged Mycroft to the door. "Come on love, let's get you home and in bed."
"YAY! BED WITH MY SEXY FIANCÉ!"
Greg took Mycroft's hands in his to try to stop him from unbuttoning his shirt.
"Let's get home first Mycroft Darling." And he pulled Mycroft out the door, down the stairs, and into the black car waiting for them.
As soon as the door closed Mycroft climbed into Lestrade's lap and started sloppily kissing him. He drew back to rip his own shirt off then leaned back in to start kissing his Gregory's neck when he promptly passed out on Greg's lap with his head nestled in the crook of his fiancé's neck. Greg just chuckled as he rubbed his hand on his lovers back and leaned back into the car seat for the rest of the car ride home.
When they got home Gregory managed to carry Mycroft up to their bad and change him into a pair of pajama pants. He got himself into bed was immediately latched onto by Mycroft. Mycroft lifted his head just enough to look at Greg and murmured, "We should invite Katy Perry to the wedding." His head fell back onto Greg's check and he immediately fell asleep. Greg chuckled as he kissed Mycroft's forehead and whispered, "Whatever you say, my darling idiot." He wrapped his arms around his fiancé and fell asleep wondering if his stag party tomorrow night would turn out any differently.