Chapter Ten: Family

For some reason Sherlock decided family was a good subject to discuss with his boyfriend and... whatever Sally was to him. Lestrade could hear them through the walls. He wasn't sure whether he wanted them to shut up or talk louder. On one hand stories about their families would take Lestrade's mind off Myc. On the other it reminded him of Sharon and Luke.

Lucas was the cutest baby Lestrade had ever seen. He had big brown eyes and a tuff of dark brown hair that was already curling. Everyone said he was the spitting image of Lestrade... Sharon hated it.

He remembered meeting Sharon four years ago, just after meeting Sherlock. He'd been... fine, not happy but fine. Sharon was sweet and beautiful and wonderful really. So Lestrade dated her and moved in with her and married her. Fuck, he had a kid with her.

Even though he loved someone else.

He'd never told Sharon about Myc; he'd never told anyone about Myc. He couldn't bring himself to confess to Sharon that he now preferred men over women; that he'd rather fuck or be fucked by a strong guy... preferably one that wore three-piece suits.

Sharon was at her sister's and had taken Luke with her. She'd been there since Christmas; since Lestrade had come home and shouted at her for cheating on him. She hadn't denied it; she never denied it. She just packed a bag and took his son.

He'd been surprised when he hadn't slipped; when he had snorted enough coke to shut his brain up for good. Somehow he'd got through it; he'd trudged along... until midday when he'd–

Lestrade swallowed and closed his eyes, tears threatening to break free. He'd survived twenty-three years; two long decades with only a little heartache and a few relapses. But everything had come crashing down in five minutes.

Greg leaned over the back of the couch to press a soft kiss to Myc's neck. The politician hummed as he continued mixing cocaine, bottles and syringes ready. There was a knock on the door and both men froze. They'd had surprise visits from Greg's partner and his superiors, sometimes while high.

Myc swept the drugs under the table and sat back, straightening the cotton tee he'd borrowed from Greg. Greg made sure he didn't look high as he answered the door.

'Mum?'

'Greg, darling,' Lori smiled and stepped into the messy flat. 'I told you we were coming to visit.'

'You did?' Greg asked. His mother nodded and pushed past Greg to look at the flat, wrinkling her nose at what she saw. Greg knew the place was a pigsty; there were clothes and videos and empty takeaway containers all over the place. Myc stood as Greg hugged his dad, shutting the door and turning.

'Hello,' Lori smiled at Myc. 'I'm Lori, Greg's mum.'

'I gathered,' Myc said and put on his most charming smile.

'This is Myc,' Greg said and looked the taller man up and down.

'Myc?' Matthew asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Myc's my boyfriend.'

Greg was inclined to blame the coke; he'd snorted a line twenty minutes before his parents turned up, some must have been floating around his brain. Because if he was sober he would not have just told his parents he was dating a guy.

'Oh God,' he groaned, as if he'd suddenly realised what he said. The drugs... the drugs... BAD DRUGS! NAUGHTY!

'You're... what?' Lori demanded.

'My boyfriend,' Greg sighed, noting that Myc was fidgeting uncomfortably before the couch. 'Myc's my boyfriend.'

Lori and Matthew shared a look before smiling.

'Greg, be serious,' Matthew said.

'I am.'

'We're not in the mood for jokes, son.'

'I'm not joking,' Greg frowned. 'I'm dating him.'

'W-why?' Lori asked.

'What do you mean, why?' Greg demanded.

'Greg,' Myc said softly, stepping forward. Something wasn't right; the police officer wasn't himself. Bad batch of drugs? Or maybe they'd finally rotted his brain.

'No, I don't see the problem,' Greg said. 'I'm dating Myc, so what?'

'But... you're straight,' Lori said.

'Apparently not,' Greg said.

'Gregory, please stop kidding,' Matthew tried again.

'I'm not kidding!' Greg hissed. 'We've been dating eight months!'

The room went quiet, all eyes flicking between Greg and Myc. The politician wanted to leave quickly; he loved making a hasty retreat. But his clothes were in the bedroom and he didn't want to leave Greg alone. He couldn't do that.

'Greg, this is... it isn't real,' his mother murmured.

'It is!' Greg shouted, anger suddenly burning through his veins. Why was everything hot and wrong? Why was he so angry? 'I'm fucking Myc and he fucks me too! Wanna hear the details? He's fucking spectacular in bed.'

'Greg,' Myc said and grabbed his arms, 'calm down.'

'No, I won't fucking calm down!' Greg hissed. 'I'm with you, why should I deny it?'

'I didn't say you had to,' Myc said calmly, 'but maybe ease into it.'

'NO!' Greg shouted and tore his arm free.

'Greg, what's wrong?' Myc asked.

'N-nothing,' he stuttered.

'Greg–'

'I'm fine!'

But Myc stepped forward anyway, hand to Greg's forehead. 'You're burning up, come with me.'

Myc dragged Greg to the bathroom and heard Lori and Matthew start arguing. He ignored them in favour of calming his boyfriend down. He turned the cold water on in the shower and pulled Greg in, both soaked within seconds.

Greg began shivering and muttering under his breath, Myc sighing. He slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around Greg tightly.

'S-s-sorry,' Greg mumbled.

'It's alright,' Myc said.

'Don't leave,' Greg begged.

'I won't,' Myc said. 'I promise.'

Lori and Matthew would leave when it became clear their son wasn't in his right mind. It should have been the first indicator that things were going to fall apart. Both Greg and Myc told themselves they were happy together; they loved each other. The drugs, the nights out, all the fucking and abuse they put their bodies through... none of it mattered when they were together...