A/N: This is not beta'd and I should be doing assignments, however the fabulous Atlin Merrick insisted I write faster, so here is something. Not NC-17 yet, sorreh!
The thing that kept Lestrade awake most of the night (other than the fact he was holding the man he once tongue-fucked) is that Mycroft's behaviour was almost normal – for a Holmes. Sure, he'd been exhausted and more than a little disturbed. This was understandable considering his younger brother had nearly died earlier that day and he hadn't eaten or slept for longer than healthy. But the fact the Mycroft had been so out of sorts he hadn't even bothered to keep up his usually regal façade around the man he felt the most uncomfortable around.
Another similarity between the Holmes brothers (other than forgetting to eat) is that they can run on very little sleep. It was just over three hours after they'd fallen asleep that Mycroft leapt out of bed and began shuffling through papers, and it wasn't until Lestrade mumbled a bleary 'what're you doing?' that the man even remembered he was there.
"Work to be done, Detective Inspector, as always." Mycroft said, almost wistfully. And just like that, with his hair mussed and wearing creased pyjamas, Mycroft was once again his regal and sharp self. "I understand you didn't sleep well last night, you are welcome to remain here to sleep while I am at work if you find it pleasing."
"You are way too much like your brother sometimes, d'you know that?" Lestrade said before turning onto his stomach and face-planting the pillow with a slight groan.
"I'll forgive you for that slight, as you are still very sleepy," Mycroft said with a smile in his voice. "Towels are in the bathroom with the dressing gowns; my cleaner will wash your clothes for you." He said and began heading out the door.
"Mycroft!" Lestrade called, pushing himself up with his arms and staring at Mycroft's head – which was popped back through the door at a very awkward angle.
"Yes?" He said, after a short delay.
"You can't actually be serious? You just slept three hours after not eating for only God knows how long. Besides, I'll need to take your statement as there was police involvement."
"I find your apprehension touching," Mycroft said with an annoyed smile. "However, you were there acting as a concerned party, not an officer, and you wouldn't be taking my statement as you have… personal ties with the family. However, please, stay and enjoy the pleasures my humble home has to offer, and when I return, if it pleases you, I will fill out a statement."
The way Mycroft spat out 'personal' confirmed Lestrade's belief that Mycroft held him partly responsible for Sherlock, however the gentleness of his voice by the end did its job my cancelling out the harshness.
"I think I will, thanks." He said, and Mycroft smiled a real, warm smile at him.
"Won't be long!" Mycroft called and Lestrade lay back, staring at the ceiling and wondering when his life became so complicated – and when Mycroft Holmes opinion began to matter.