Lestrade walked into his flat and was greeted with silence and darkness which was usually the norm but not tonight. He was sure Sherlock said he be there when he got home.

He tossed his keys on the table in the foyer, hung up his coat and made his way to the sitting room. Lestrade reached for the floor lamp to click it on when a voice cut though the stillness.

"Please don't."

Lestrade jerked his hand back and muttered a curse under his breath. But he didn't turn on the light.

In the shadows thrown from the street lights shining through his windows he could see Sherlock huddled at the end of his sofa. His knees were drawn to his chest and he had his arms wrapped around his legs.

"What is it, sunshine? What's wrong?" Lestrade inquired as he went and sat next to Sherlock.

Sherlock shook his head before burying his face in his knees.

"Stop calling me that!" His voice was muffled but Lestrade heard him clear enough.

"What? 'Sunshine'? Alright, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you didn't like it." Lestrade tentatively put his arm around Sherlock's shoulders.

Sherlock shifted until his face was pressed against Lestrade's chest. Lestrade felt him breathe deeply. Sherlock always loved to inhale him. Lestrade knew it offered him comfort and so never called him out on it.

"Sherlock, my love? Please tell me what's wrong." Lestrade pressed a series of kisses into Sherlock's thick dark hair.

This time the younger man's reply was too muffled to make out.

"Sorry, say that again?" Sherlock pulled back and Lestrade could just make out the tracks of tears on the detective's drawn face.

"I said, I ruin everything."

Lestrade started to shake his head but Sherlock continued. "No it's true! I'm the opposite of sunshine. I'm a dark blight and you'd do well to stay clear of me."

Greg grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders and shook him.

"Don't you ever say that again! I love you and I'm not going anywhere! Now tell me, what brought this on?"

Sherlock laughed bitterly. "Of course you won't leave. You never do what's good for you. You let me ruin your life and hobble your career."

Lestrade hugged the younger man to him. "Sherlock, you are the dumbest genius I know. This is because Gregson got the promotion I was up for isn't it? You think that's your fault?"

He felt Sherlock nod his head.

"Love, they offered me that job but I turned them down. It would've been a glorified desk job and I need to be where the action is. Investigating crimes. Not shuffling paperwork." Greg carded his fingers through Sherlock's curls. He could feel the tension easing out of his lover's body as he held him close.

"Sherlock. I won't call you 'Sunshine' anymore if it truly bothers you. But I want you to know… I've always called you that because — and if you laugh I will throttle you, — but you… well, that's how being with you makes me feel. Like I'm enveloped in the glow of the sun. You are not darkness, you are not a blight, you are the brightest star in my galaxy. And that's why I call you Sunshine. So I may never say it aloud again, if you don't want me to, but that's how I think of you in my head. I always will." Lestrade laid his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

Sherlock pulled back to look up at Greg and Lestrade opened his eyes to meet his gaze.

"I suppose… if it means that much to you. I'll allow you to continue using the endearment. Because I love you." Sherlock muttered before burying his face in the crook of Greg's neck.

Lestrade smiled and hugged him tight.

"I love you too, Sunshine."