Greg Lestrade was a normal 17 year old boy with a secret. He loved football, his motorbike and his best friends brother. He didn't know what to do. Sherlock had been his friend for years and he had only recently met Mycroft, but something happened when they did finally meet. After all the stories Sherlock had told Greg about him, the games they played, the experiments the "Italian job" incident where the two Holmes boys blew up their shed. Greg had always amused he would despise Mycroft for being a pompous dick.
But no. When they met he felt…something…something good.
Whatever it was it hadn't left him, and now, on his 18th birthday he was going to see him again, him and Sherlock. Greg's small flat was soon to be filled with his friends, drinking, laughing, having a good time. The party was planned to start in an hour and Greg had already finished getting everything ready. "What to do now?" he said to himself as he flopped down onto the sofa. He curled his legs up under him, his black skinni jeans tight around his bum and knees, his black, un-ironed shirt tucked in only at the back. His black outfit was broken up by a red studded belt that hung loose on his hips, his red tie that he began to fiddle with as he flicked on his TV. He had dressed up especially for Mycroft, to try and impress him, but Greg being Greg he would never admit that. He began to plait the silky fabric through his fingers as he mindlessly stared at the moving pictures on the screen.
"They will contoooool us! They will stop deeeeegraaaading us!" Greg's phone blasted. He jumped at the sudden noise, knocking the remote control to the floor. He pulled his phone from his back pocket to read the text.
My brother is being a dick and wants me to ask is it OK to come round now? SH
A small smile flickered onto Greg's lips as he replied,
Sure. Just walk in, doors unlocked. Lestrade
Oh, tell your brother not to hit my bike with his bloody car again. Lestrade
The first time Greg had seen Mycroft he had picked Sherlock up after a study session and accidently hit the handle bars of Greg's electric blue Yamaha R6, making it fall off the stand, leaving a dent in the body.
Myc's swearing at you! He says he told you it was an accident. Its fully when he's flustered like this. SH
I know it was an accident. Tell him I'm only winding him up. Lestrade
We are just pulling up, tell him yourself. SH
Greg smiled as he saw the red Jag pull up outside his window. He jumped up, almost tripping over the table but he jumps over it, skidding to the door with his socks on the laminate flooring. He pulls the door open, "Not hit my bike again, have you?" Greg chuckled as he saw the two Holmes boys rise from their seats and climb from the car.
"Happy Birthday Lestrade." Sherlock said as he tossed a box to him, Greg caught it expertly. Years of goalkeeper training helps with things like that. "Cheers Sherlock!" Greg smiled at Sherlock but it wavered as Mycroft walked round the front of the car. "Gregory, I do believe congratulations are in order." Mycroft's eyes sparkled as Greg looked into them. "Th-Thanks..." Greg stuttered as Mycroft flashed him a beaming smile and handed him a bottle of Whiskey. "er...Lockie said you would like this..." Greg grinned as he gently took the bottle from the older boy. "Like's an understatement...It's my favourite..." Both the boys blushed when Greg's finger brushed softly over Mycroft's hand.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and barged through the middle of the two boys. "Oh god, I need a drink!"