Twenty-Six: Hangover

Beta: chasingriver

Author's Note: Again, sorry I haven't replied personally to all your awesome reviews, but I appreciate each and every one of them. Also thank you to everyone who's following this story or favourited it. And, just thanks for reading :)

{Dreamer}

'Rise and shine, Gregory!'

Greg groaned. This was what his mother did every time he slept through his alarm. It was absolute murder when he was nursing a hangover. Even worse when he was trying to pretend he wasn't hungover.

Greg moaned as he sat up, the blankets pooling around his thighs. Mycroft's manager... something, Greg couldn't remember the dude's name, had driven Mycroft's Jag with Greg, Mycroft, and John stuffed into the backseat, Sherlock sprawled across the passenger seat and talking loudly. Mycroft had been in no condition to help Greg into his room, so Greg had been dropped off in the street and left to his own devices (after a nice, long snog from Mycroft, of course).

He'd nearly killed himself at least twelve times stumbling up the driveway, and again climbing through his bedroom window. How is mum hadn't heard him was beyond Greg.

He'd dropped into bed around four-thirty or five, again Greg was a little hazy on the details. And now it was six, Greg had slept maybe an hour, and his brain was trying to explode from his ears, eyes, nose... well, it was just being a fucking bitch.

Greg hissed as his mum pulled the drapes open, making Maggie turn and stare at him. 'What's wrong with you?' she asked.

Trying to form a coherent sentence seemed like the biggest task Greg had ever undertaken, but after a few seconds he said, 'Just got a migraine, have since last night.'

'Hmm,' Maggie mused, looking the teenager over. She'd seen enough drunk teenagers at the hospital, as well as her own son, to know when someone was hungover. 'You sure about that?'

Greg blinked and tried to look at his mum, wincing against as sunlight hit his eyes. 'Y-Yeah,' he said. 'My head... hurts...'

Which wasn't a lie; his head was pounding.

'You look hungover,' Maggie said.

'Hungover? Yeah, feel a bit like that,' Greg said, hoping him admitting to it would fool his mum. 'Wish I was, that'd be a hell of a lot better.'

Maggie frowned at that and moved forward, pressing her hand to Greg's forehead. 'You're not warm.'

'Just... painkillers, I think,' Greg said. 'I should be fine.'

'Are you sure?' Maggie asked.

Greg nodded, breathing in deeply. He'd gone to school with hangovers before (though he'd usually slept at least six hours) so he should be fine... you know, when he stopped feeling like he was dying.

'Yeah,' he finally grunted and stumbled from bed. 'Just... shower... painkillers.' Maggie watched him with narrowed eyes, but Greg was beyond caring. He needed to drown himself in the shower and then shove painkillers down his throat.

{oOo}

Fifteen minutes later Greg still felt like shit, but at least it was just a throb in his temples opposed to a death march. He couldn't bear the thought of food but sucked down some orange juice before kissing his mum goodbye- Maggie was still staring at him.

Greg rode to school and found that Mycroft wasn't waiting for him this morning like he usually did. Greg wasn't surprised, really. He'd still be in bed if his mum wasn't there to wake him up.

So he did his detention, feeling like the world was trying to kill him, but when it was over he was free; that was the last one, the two weeks were up. He had a party Saturday night- which he'd definitely be going to if his mum let him off- and an entire two days of hopefully making out with Mycroft Holmes.

Greg's heart still skipped a beat whenever he thought of the night before. A lot of it was hazy, but Greg remembered Mycroft rubbing against him; his hot, sweaty skin; his long, thick cock; his-

Greg swallowed thickly and shook his head (not a good idea when you're hungover) and groaned as he headed for the smokers corner. He'd finished early so he could sit for five minutes and have a cigarette.

He'd just lit it and took a drag when a shadow fell over him, and Greg looked up-

Only to sigh when he saw Dimmock.

'Oh, well that's the way to greet your best friend,' Dimmock said.

'Shut up,' Greg groaned, rubbing his eyes.

'What's up with you?' Dimmock asked, leaning against the bricks beside Greg, who was sitting on the concrete. He lit his own smoke and said, 'You look hungover.'

'I am hungover,' Greg said. 'Me and Mycroft went out clubbing.'

Dimmock choked on his cigarette and smacked his chest before spluttering, 'W-What?'

'We went out clubbing,' Greg mumbled. 'Um... well, is it clubbing when he owns the club?'

'Mycroft owns a club?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg nodded. 'Owns a few, apparently,' he said. 'Turned up at my place last night, we snuck out, didn't get home till... I dunno, 'bout four or five.'

'Jesus,' Dimmock said. 'Seriously?' Greg nodded again and the other teenager snorted. 'Wow, I can't believe it... seems Mycroft Holmes isa bad influence on you.'

Greg glared at him but it was half-hearted at best; he was still in way too much pain to really kick Dimmock's arse.

'And where is your boyfriend?' Dimmock asked.

'He's not my boyfriend!' Greg growled.

'Yeah, yeah; where is he?'

'Dunno,' Greg shrugged, 'haven't seen him since last night... or this mornin', either one.'

'Hmm,' Dimmock mused, making Greg look at him.

'What?'

'Well,' Dimmock said, 's'just weird, you know?'

Greg frowned. 'What is?'

'Well... you two are usually joined at the hip,' Dimmock said, smiling when Greg scowled. 'It's really weird seeing you without Mycroft Holmes' lips attached to yours.'

'Fuck off,' Greg grunted.

Dimmock chuckled and drew back on his cigarette. 'Waah-chh.'

Greg groaned and rubbed his thumping temples.

{oOo}

Greg hadn't seen Mycroft that morning, and figured he'd just slept late, like any normal person with a hangover did. But when lunch swung around and Mycroft wasn't in the library, Greg began to... panic? No, not panic, why would he panic? That was just stupid. He just wanted to... you know, know that Mycroft was okay. That was all. And it was absolutely fine, right? He was allowed to worry about his... friend, right?

Greg headed back to the smokers' corner- where Dimmock, Joe and Dylan hung out- and pulled out his phone when he reached them.

'Oh my God, Gregory Lestrade, in the flesh!' Dylan shouted.

Greg ignored them as he typed.

Where the hell are you?

A nudge had Greg looking up and he frowned when he realised all three boys were looking at him. 'What?'

'You haven't hung out with us at lunch in... two, three weeks?' Joe said.

'Why the sudden change?' Dylan asked. 'Andy stop puttin' out?'

Greg's frown deepened and confused made his eyebrows furrow. 'What the fuck are you on about?'

'We just figured you were gettin' some at lunch,' Dylan said. 'Andy seemed the most likely choice.'

Dimmock snorted at the look on Greg's face. 'No!' Greg practically shouted. 'No, fuck no, I'm not shaggin' Andy!'

Dylan rolled his eyes and Joe said, 'Greg, please. You're obviously going somewhere during lunch.'

Greg scowled and wet his lips. 'I've been... um... in the library.' That received howls of laughter from Joe and Dylan, and Dimmock snickered as Greg shouted, 'I have! I've been... studying!'

Well, it wasn't that much of a lie, really. He had been studying in the library sometimes... but other times he'd been snogging Mycroft against bookcases, desks, walls... well, you get the idea.

Before Greg could shout some more, his phone buzzed. Dimmock watched in amusement as Greg practically ripped it free, swiping his thumb over the touch-screen.

I decided to have a lie in; a squad of four-year-olds decided to take up residence in my head and have a shouting match - M

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and Dimmock asked, 'Good news?'

Greg threw him a scowl as he texted back.

You prick. You take out me out clubbing and then skive?

'Who you textin'?' Dylan asked.

'Your mum,' Greg retorted, re-reading Mycroft's old texts as he waited.

'Always so nasty,' Joe hummed.

'Fuck off,' Greg muttered, phone buzzing again.

You could have skipped school. I didn't make you go, did I? - M

FUCK YOU! You knew I had bloody detention. Mum woke me up just after 6, felt like I was dying.

'Is it just me or is he smiling like a fuckin' idiot?' Dylan's voice reached Greg's ear.

Greg looked up. 'What?'

'Oh, he's definitely smiling,' Dimmock nodded, smirking at his best friend. 'So tell us, Greggie, why are you smiling?'

'I ain't smiling,' Greg huffed.

'You guys ever notice how he says ain't instead of I'm not, when he's upset?' Dimmock asked.

Dylan nodded and Joe grinned. 'He talks like some fuckin' idiot. So come on, Gregory, details; who's the guy?'

'There ain't- isn't,' Greg corrected when his three mates smirked. 'There isn't any bloke, alright?' His phone buzzed and Greg scowled at them as he checked his messages.

Mm, I'm currently lying across my bed with an ice-cold beer, watching a video, and touching myself. It's EVER so relaxing. And what are you doing, Gregory dear? - M

Greg scowled.

'Ooh, boy trouble,' Dimmock giggled.

Greg lashed out, kicking Dimmock in the thigh and making him stumble into the wall.

You're a filthy boy, Mycroft darling.

'Fuck you,' Dimmock groaned, rubbing his leg and wincing.

'Love you too,' Greg said, blowing him a kiss. He pulled his cigarettes out and lit one before glaring at Joe and Dylan. 'There's no guy, alright? I'm texting a mate, I go to the library to study, end of story.'

'Come off it, Greg,' Joe grinned. 'Tell us the truth.'

'We're your buddies,' Dylan whined, batting his eyelashes.

Greg flipped them off and looked down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand.

Have a lovely day at school. Kisses - M

Greg chuckled and put his phone away, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing smoke above his head.

'Aww, look at the cute smile,' Dylan grinned, grabbing one of Greg's cheeks.

'Fuck off, cunt,' Greg scowled, swatting him away. Dimmock was still smiling at him knowingly and Greg glared.

{oOo}

'So you were texting Mycroft, yeah?' Dimmock asked as soon as they sat in their PE classroom.

'Yes,' Greg snapped.

'What's wrong, Gregory?' Dimmock smiled.

'You know what's fucking wrong!' Greg practically shouted, making the students already gathered look at them. Greg lowered his voice and hissed, 'You know what's wrong, Dimmo.'

'What's wrong?' Dimmock asked, feigning ignorance.

Greg's scowl darkened. 'Why the fuck did you say all that shit to Dyl and Joe?'

'I didn't say anything,' Dimmock said. 'Dylan noticed you were acting like a fucking little girl with a crush-'

'And you egged him on!' Greg whispered harshly.

'Now see, I notice that you didn't deny that you were acting like a little girl with a crush,' Dimmock said. He smirked when Greg gaped at him, cheeks darkening quickly and brown eyes swivelling around.

'Shut the fuck up!' Greg snapped.

'Come off it, Greg,' Dimmock said. 'When are you gonna stop denying that you like Mycroft?'

'I don't-'

'Like Mycroft, yadda, yadda,' Dimmock cut in. 'Except you totally do, and Molly agrees with me.'

Greg groaned and thumped his head against the table, Dimmock chuckling. 'You'll never stop, will you?' Greg muttered.

'I will when you admit that you like Mycroft,' Dimmock said.

Greg groaned again.