Drunk Habits (Mystrade)

Hanged Like Laundries

HEYY!! I'm sorry it took me so long to update this chapter! I hope you guys enjoying it! And.. Please forgive me for the very very very late update *grin innocently*

P.s if there are still grammar mistakes just point it out so i can learn, thank you:)

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The night after Mycroft kissed him, he couldn't sleep at all like a teenage girl and he hated himself for that. Fortunately for him, days later he could sleep like his normal self again, and he was grateful because he needed sleep so bad; new cases without Sherlock around tiring him to death. And the man's absence made him realize that he overmuch relying on the prick's genius brain. Bollocks.

There was new habit he made after the incident; he always checked his phone. Like, always. No, he was not waiting for a certain British Government to call him. Of course not. He just.. Damn that Holmes! What kind of trick that Holmes used at him? Why was his brain didn't working like normal? Why the hell he always thinking that bloody man?

For example, he always wondering when is exactly Mycroft will call him like he promised? And the worst was he daydreamt about the bloody Holmes, more severe than the worst was he fucking get caught by Sergeant Donovan. It was VERY humiliating, disgraceful and he wanted to bury himself.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•

Donovan barged into Lestrade's office like usual. She was frowning when she saw her boss stared at boring wall but he wasn't there, she know his minds at somewhere else. She took a step cautiously, and her frown became deeper when Lestrade suddenly stuck his tongue out and licked his lips over and over again then his mouth parted and he let out a whimper, "just kiss me already, Mycroft".

Donovan's eyes got wide as she approached him. "Really, Greg? Really?"

Lestrade's head jerked up, when he saw Donovan smirked at him he was blushing. And he knew right then Donovan will tease him forever.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•

Lestrade didn't know what worse; Getting caught daydreaming by a surbodinate or miserably waiting for Mycroft to call him. He always getting excited when there was an unknown number called him and he tired to feel his heart sank because it wasn't Mycroft. Finally, he got angry to the unknown number who wasn't Mycroft Holmes.

•∆•∆•∆•∆•

"Hello..?" Lestrade's voice full of expectant.

"Boss, you need to go down here. We found something in these bodies but we haven't figured what it was yet."

".."

"You told me to call you if we found something bizzare, for reminder."

"Who is this?"

"Anderson. It's D.I Lestrade's number isn't it?"

"Why are you an unknown number? I thought I already saved yours."

"Yeah, I changed it last night."

"DON'T CHANGE IT. TELL EVERYONE IN THE OFFICE DON'T CHANGE THEIR BLOODY PHONE NUMBER."

•∆•∆•∆•∆•

It's already three weeks since that kiss happened. And Lestrade's hope of Mycroft's call evaporated. And he certainly didn't expect to meet him anytime soon.

"Sir, Mr. Holmes want to see you." A surbodinate said on his back when he was busy inspecting a corpse.

Lestrade wasn't expecting the older Holmes who came, so he quickly assumed it was Sherlock. Eventhough he wouldn't admit it loudly; he glad Sherlock was back, he needed his help. He heard footsteps came near him and said casually. "Back already from your honeymoon, Sherlock?"