Summer Nights

Summer Nights

Lestrade would never admit to anyone in a million years his secret love. In school, he was in with a different crowd than most people thought he would hang around with, and sometimes he’s proud to admit, sometimes he’s not. He still has the proof at home, hidden in boxes under his bed…

That’s right; Gregory Lestrade…was in musical theater.

And his favorite play is Grease.

He knew the minute one of his current friends found out that he had once spent a whole summer at drama camp and was the lead in Guys and Dolls or played Riff-Raff in Rocky Horror, he would never hear the end of it.

Well, his boyfriend might enjoy that side of him, but Lestrade wasn’t willing to put money on it. In fact, he’d be willing to just leave it all under his bed until he died and whoever got his stuff found it.

He didn’t imagine in a million years that Mycroft Holmes would find it just a few decades early.

****

Mycroft had let himself into Lestrade’s apartment. With neither of them really knowing the other’s schedule, they presented the other with a copy of their key so if they ever needed anything, they could just come in. Well, Mycroft just wanted a chance to see Lestrade, who was dealing with his obnoxious little brother at the moment.

Mycroft walked around the cute little flat, admiring the decorating that Lestrade had put into it. For a bachelor living with no flat mate, it was actually really clean and well done. Mycroft was impressed. He casually walked around, coming to Lestrade’s bedroom. He had been in here a few times, so he knew what it looked like. But there was something there that shouldn’t have been there.

Under the bed, peeking out just a little bit, there was a box.

Mycroft went to the box and pulled it out. It was a very nice, hand-crafted wooden box. Mycroft set it on the bed. He knew he shouldn’t be going through Lestrade’s things, but he was the British Government. He probably knew more about a lot of people then they knew about themselves anyway. Carefully removing the lid from the box, Mycroft peered inside.

“Gregory Lestrade, you little bastard.” Mycroft whispered as he sifted through the items. Ribbons, plaques, pictures, and even playbills. That’s when an idea popped into Mycroft’s head. Knowing he didn’t have a lot of time, he jumped to action.

****

Lestrade came home, the lights off just like he had left them. He sighed, his back popping from a long day.

“Work sucks.” He said to himself.

“Tell me about it, stud.” Someone said. Lestrade jumped as a lamp in the living room turned on. Someone was sitting there in a leather jacket with slicked back hair. He looked up at Lestrade.

“My?” Lestrade asked. “What are you doing?” Mycroft tossed something to him. It was a vintage leather jacket. Lestrade looked at it then back at Mycroft.

“Put that on.” Mycroft said. “We have a date. You need to dress the part.”

“Where are we going?” Lestrade asked, not even bothering to argue with Mycroft when he made plans.

“You’ll see. Just put the jacket on.”

Lestrade did as he was told. Mycroft took his hand. And out they went, for a night on the town.

****

When Mycroft’s limo pulled up in front of a playhouse, Lestrade got a lump in his throat. It was one he had performed at during his younger years. Mycroft smiled at him. They ventured inside, seeing an almost packed house. Finding their seats, they waited.

Lestrade’s smile grew when his favorite play started. He held Mycroft’s hand the whole time and sang along with the songs. He didn’t question Mycroft knowing all this, because all Mycroft did was snoop anyway, so it would be pointless to try to figure out where he had gotten his information from.

But, he was very thankful for the said snooping that night when they got home.

The End