Rain check?
Lestrade sighed, his shoulders slumping. He had been waiting all week for this lunch date, cleared his schedule, and threatened everybody at the office with death and overtime if they even dared to call him with anything short of an international emergency. And now his incredibly busy and important boyfriend, who most likely had an actual international issue to deal with, was canceling. The Detective Inspector tried hiding his disappoint as he pushed the buttons on his phone in response.
Sure.
Well there's no use going back to the Yard now. Greg breathed in the stale London air and opened the door to the small cafe, where the supposed lunch date was to take place. It was quiet and the odor was nothing but exquisite.
The tall man sat at the couple's usual table, a small booth in the very corner of the cafe, away from all people. The place was known for their Pansotti alla genoves, so naturally Greg always ordered the regular cheese pizza with no tomatoes, it would drive Mycroft up the fucking wall. Speaking of which, as soon as the waitress sat the plate down an incoming text alerted Greg to his phone.
Why must you insist on doing this every time? You came to a fancy Italian restaurant and you order a normal cheese pizza. You know they don't even eat pizza that regularly in Rome?
With a small glance at the nearest security camera and a quick smirk, Lestrade dug in. After three bites he picked up his phone and replied.
Well, maybe if you were here you could teach me something about Roman culture. But you're not, so I will continue eating my normal cheese pizza.
The DI teased the government official, secretly holding real resentment beneath his sassy exterior. Greg continued chopping down on his slice as loud as possible, chewing each bite like a cow, and pointing his open jowls toward all cameras in the vicinity.
By the end of his meal Greg had forgiven Mycroft and felt bad about the animosity in the text message. He thought about calling and apologizing, but then came up with an even better idea.
The silver fox took out his pad of paper and a pen from his jacket pocket. His hand jumped up and down as he tried to remember how to write the familiar phrase in Arabic, that
Mycroft had taught him during their sixth month anniversary celebration.
أحبك.
No response came from the camera, obviously. But after a couple silent minutes passed, the high pitched ding of a text tone
I love you too.
I'll make it up to you. Promise.
Gregory Lestrade smiled fondly at hs mobile phone and rose from his seat, throwing down a twenty for the pizza. The bustling of the restaurant grew as the lunch crowd filed in and Greg made his way to the exit, quietly slipping out and heading back to his busy job.
I'm looking forward the that.
A/N: Nothing really happened in this, but I thought it was cute and I couldn't get the idea out my head.
Based off of something I saw on Pinterest; "Greg constantly writes 'I love you' on signs and holds them up to security cameras for Mycroft to see."