"Gregory, is this a joke?"
Lestrade observes the man standing in front of the television, the angry face, casual clothes and sarcastic posture. Before answering, trying to keep the most calm voice tone possible, he tries to remember what have he done wrong.
"What, love?"
"What?" The government officer feels the anger getting stronger in his chest, but it doesn't least much. The man laid on his couch, only bought after the grey haired man moved in, a few week before, is dress only with his underwear and wrong matched socks. Organization wasn't something to be expected. "My closet, Gregory. It looks like the seventh circle of hell!"
"Your closet, Myc?", He asks calmly, sitting straight on the couch, observing the pale angry eyes, "I thought it was our closet"
Gregory notice the guilty flinch on his beloved one face, and realise he shouldn't have said that. The truth is, Mycroft is not good on living with someone, it's obvious how is a difficult thing to adapt. The new couch, television noise, new fridge and loads of beer... It wasn't easy for him to accept all of that, yet he was putting a lot of effort on it.
Knowing the taller man well, Lestrade knows he will start apologising in three seconds and he wouldn't talk about the mess on the closet again. But he couldn't let that happen, the bossy yet insecure man in front of him deserved a firm and full of trust relationship, with full space for exigencies.
Mycroft is looking for something to say, making Gregory feel comfortable in his house was his main objective since he accepted sharing it. He even bought everything new, asking the annoying help of John Watson, now he was making another mistake. It was their closet.
He is about to apologising and forgetting about the mess, witch seemed smaller compared with the idea of making inspector uncomfortable on the mansion, when Gregory stands, smiling sweetly, dark eyes full of caring.
"Sorry for the mess, Mycroft, I'll do my best to keep it all clean and organized" he places a kiss on the other cheek and grab his hand. "I'm not Sherlock, ok? This is not a bitterness competition. I'm not John. This is not a sarcastic rude talk. And I'm not you mother. You don't have to keep proving yourself to make me happy. We are in a relationship, and I have to put effort on it too, not just you."
The tense expression on Mycroft's face fades away, turning in to a thankful relaxed smile, a little blushed as Lestrade finds amusing to realise. The taller man bounds a little to lay a kiss on the gray hair, enjoying the smell of shampoo.
"The bathroom, by the way..." he starts, getting Gregory to roll his eyes and shut him up with a hard kiss.
"I'm going to keep it clean, Myc."