'Mycroft, please.'
'No Gregory, I think I have made myself quite clear on this point.' Mycroft Holmes turned his back on his exasperated boyfriend.
'But Mycroft,' Greg pleaded, 'I've already told John and Sherlock that we're going.'
'Look Gregory, even if I had been considering going, telling me that John and Sherlock would be there would not have helped matters.' He flipped through the essay in front of him before continuing, 'quite the opposite in fact. Anyway, I have work to do.'
'Mycroft you always have work,' Greg sighed, running a hand through his messy brown hair. 'Can't you relax for one night? It's only karaoke for Christ's sake.'
Mycroft raised one eyebrow disdainfully. 'Gregory, when I'm older I fully intend to hold a powerful position in parliament and government officials do not partake in karaoke.'
Greg rolled his eyes and refrained from showing Mycroft the latest examples of just what government officials got up to. This was his last chance to persuade Mycroft to join him, John and Sherlock at the pub for karaoke night.
'Myc please?' Greg asked softly pressing his lips to his boyfriend's back. He felt Mycroft shiver and had to bite back a chuckle, this would be easier than he thought.
'Please?' he whined, moving gentle kisses up Mycroft's neck. He heard Mycroft's breathing speed up and grinned.
'Please?' he asked breathily for the final time.
'Gregory-' Mycroft moaned but Greg interrupted him, springing up and running to his bedroom in their shared apartment. 'Awesome! Be ready in ten minutes Myc!'
Mycroft groaned and buried his head in his hands, this could only end in disaster and jokes at his expense.
Twenty minutes later the two of them were trudging down the road to the pub, well Mycroft was trudging, Greg was bouncing like an excited puppy.
Seriously, Mycroft thought, Greg could at least try and act his age. He's meant to be twenty for goodness sake. Greg turned round to beam a smile at Mycroft and the man snorted; whatever Gregory did he was adorable.
'Hello brother, Lestrade,' Sherlock greeted them as they joined him at their table. John came over a few minutes later with four beers and slung his arm round Sherlock's shoulders, who blushed furiously.
'You alright, John?' Greg grinned.
'Not too bad,' John nodded back smiling, 'Course work's a pain in the arse but Sherlock prides himself on correcting my mistakes.'
Sherlock smiled smugly before realising that John had been mocking him and pouted.
'Lucky you,' Greg laughed, 'Mycroft seems to think that I won't learn anything if he tells me the answers.'
'Yes surprising that isn't it?' Mycroft quipped dryly.
Greg stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes before jumping up and yelling, 'this is my song!'
Karaoke had started and the introduction to Green Day's Jesus of Suburbia was playing. Greg ran to the free microphone and started singing, receiving good natured cheers from the other pub goers.
When the song was over he jogged back to the table and slumped next to Mycroft looking flushed and happy.
'You have a wonderful voice Gregory,' Mycroft commented, making Greg blush and grin.
'Thanks,' he said. 'Now it's your turn.' He went to push his boyfriend towards the mic in time for the next song but Mycroft was determinedly remaining in his seat and despite Greg's most heart wrenching pleas refused to get up.
Other than that the evening progressed nicely and despite himself Mycroft started having a nice time. Greg, realising this, decided to ply Mycroft with a few more drinks than he would usually have in order to coax him to the karaoke machine.
Greg's planning finally paid off as Ruby by the Kaisercheifs came on. Mycroft leapt up, to John and Sherlock's shock and Greg's glee, and pulled his boyfriend towards the mic.
John stared at them, slack jawed and gaping as the serious and boring Mycroft Holmes danced around and sang his heart out, Greg laughing and singing at his side.
'John, your phone,' Sherlock hissed, breaking him from his trance.
'Sherlock, use your own,' John replied, his eyes still trained on the singing duo at the mic.
'I left it at the Halls and I need to use yours now!' Sherlock pleaded.
John sighed and handed his phone to Sherlock who grinned.
'What do you even need it for?' John asked, curious despite himself now that Sherlock was tapping buttons.
Sherlock winked at John and tapped the side of his nose before training the phone's camera on Mycroft.
'You're filming him?!' John exclaimed as Sherlock shushed him furiously. The genius then grinned and nodded.
'Mycroft will be sober by the morning,' he chuckled. 'He might not even remember this spectacular performance and that would be such a shame.' He wiped away a non-existent tear and turned back to the impromptu concert.
Mycroft cracked open his eyes and rubbed them furiously. He really shouldn't have drunk so much last night. His head was pounding as he turned to check the clock by his bed and he jumped as he realised he only had ten minutes to get to his lecture on American politics.
Five minutes later and he was rushing through the university's corridors to the lecture theatre. In his rush however, he noticed several amused glances being cast his way by some of Sherlock's acquaintances. Oh what was that girl's name...? Sally, yes, Sally Donovan. Why was she looking at him like that? Oh never mind. Mycroft banished the thoughts from his mind as he pushed into the theatre.
When he emerged from the lecture, his head swimming with information on the structure of the American government, Mycroft was pleasantly surprised to find Greg waiting for him.
'I thought you had a lecture now?' Mycroft asked as they began to walk back to their flat.
'Greg shrugged and mumbled, 'cancelled.'
'Are you alright Gregory?' Mycroft enquired. Greg was looking shifty and uncomfortable.
'Yeah, let's just get back to the flat alright?' Greg urged. Mycroft was about to reply when Sherlock's deep voice cut across the bustle of the corridor.
'Feeling alright after last night brother dear?'
Mycroft span to find Sherlock and John leaning against a wall, both looking extremely smug and pleased with themselves.
'What have you done?' Mycroft snapped as Greg pulled at his sleeve.
'Come on Myc, let's just go.' Gregory looked slightly ill so Mycroft turned to follow thinking he just wanted to lie down for a bit.
'Remember much about yesterday Mycroft?' Sherlock jibed again as Greg's friend Dimmock passed them.
'Hey Mycroft,' Dimmock grinned, 'Nice voice.' He winked and ran off as Greg hid his face in his hands.
'What's this about Sherlock?' Mycroft demanded, now thoroughly confused. He most definitely did not enjoy being out of the loop.
'Have a little watch brother,' Sherlock smirked, handing Mycroft John's phone. Mycroft pressed play on the video that was on the screen and watched, his jaw hanging lower and lower as the film progressed.
'It was quite a good performance, although not one of my favourite songs,' Sherlock commented dryly as John struggled in vain to hide his laughter.
'Don't you dare show anyone!' Mycroft snapped. 'Delete it right now.'
Sherlock chuckled as John said 'oops' with an air of fake innocence.
'I'm sorry Myc-' Greg began as Mycroft face palmed and Sherlock and John dissolved into laughter.
'How many people, Gregory?' Mycroft sighed.
Greg rubbed his neck, 'uh, as far as I know, Sherlock's forensics course, John's medical course and some of the blokes on the third year criminology course...'
Greg trailed off at the murderous look on Mycroft's face.
'Admittedly it wasn't Greg.' Sherlock managed to get out between his laughs. 'He actually tried to stop us, the spoilsport.'
'Yes I assumed as much,' Mycroft replied through gritted teeth.
Sherlock seemed oblivious to the amount of danger he was in. John on the other hand was not.
'Uh, I have a, uh, thing, that, um- bye!' and the medical student legged it down the hall and out of sight.
Mycroft slowly withdrew his extremely heavy politics text book and brought it crashing down on Sherlock's head. Sherlock gave a yelp of pain and surprise and stumbled down the hall, Mycroft running after him screaming like a maniac and trying to hit Sherlock again with his book.
Greg stared after them in exasperation and ran a hand through his hair. Then, sighing, he headed down the corridor. Someone would need to pull the irate Mycroft off Sherlock eventually.