I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 104 : Bracknell

"Relax honey ... You are all tense ..." Mycroft whispered in his lover ear before placing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades.
They were sat in the couch in front of the television watching the news, Greg nestled between his husband's legs, the auburn trying his best to relief the inspector from all pressure he had been under these last weeks. He gently rubbed his thumbs against the other man's back, describing little circles, feeling the policeman letting himself go even so slightly.
"You know what we should do tomorrow night ? We should go out. See something, a film or a play maybe. Just do something else you know." the official suggested as the news were ending.
"Mmm... Dunno ..." replied Greg with no enthusiasm before grabbing the remote and switching the channel.
"You need to think about something else than work. You know it's not good to always be focus on the same thing ? It's important to sometime step back so you can comeback with fresh thoughts n your case." the elder Holmes scolded him gently. "And it would help me out too by the way."
"Mmm ... If you say so. But you organise it and no Bertol Brecht or such abstract headachy stuff." accepted the yarder with a smile.
"That's a deal." chuckled the auburn. "But for now it's hot chocolate time !"
"I don't know what is happening to you at the moment, being all soft and that, but the guy who've kidnapped Mycroft I-am-not-grumpy-but-still-I-am-very-busy-so-shut-up Holmes can keep him for as long as he wants." giggled the DI, sitting up so his partner could raise on his feet.
"I've never been like that !" protested the official. "Or maybe just once or twice."
"More like one or two hundreds time yeah." his boyfriend teased him as he was leaving for the kitchen in order to prepare their drinks.
"You know it's not because I'm in another room that I don't hear you ?" chuckled Mycroft, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk and a chocolate bar.
"Shh ... I can't hear the telly." the inspector joked, always happy to tease the younger man.
"Be generous and kind they said." sighed the official with a little smirk warming up the milk and dipping the chocolate in it to make it melt.
He grabbed a couple of mugs and served the chocolaty milk generously in it before spreading a great dose of mini-marshmallow on the top of the drink. He seized two spoons in the drawer and disposed them on a trail alongside the mugs and a few tangerine before heading back to the living room were Gregory had finally decided himself on a rebroadcast of Trainspotting.
"Thank you love." the detective smiled tenderly before pecking the other man on the nose and allowing him to reclaim his position, half laid down on the couch, the yarder's head against his chest.

The black Jaguar dropped them in the middle of the flamboyant WestEnd and despite not having been very enthusiast the precedent evening when being proposed a night out, the yarder started thinking that he may still have a good evening. He stepped out of the car, quickly joined by his husband and followed the tall man through the crowd to a big building that the policeman immediately recognized as the Vaudeville theatre -maybe because the name was displayed in two-feet high letters before the entrance door-.
"Do you like Oscar Wilde or is it still too brainy for you ?" the elder Holmes smirked, taking his partner's hand in his.
"Shut up Lady Bracknell." giggled the yarder.
"Actually you'd be astonished to learn that I wasn't the only male to play the part." the auburn tutted him. "In fact it's quite common and it's the case in this depiction."
To his greatest shame, Gregory had never had the opportunity to witness a performance of the Importance of Being Earnest and he was honestly quite excited to finally understand why the part of Lady Bracknell required a man to play it, not only in an all-boy school depiction, but also in a professional production.
Mycroft had achieved to bespeak two of the best seats of the house despite the play being sold out for weeks and the detective suspected his boyfriend of having used his position within the government to achieve this feat but he was too pleased to have a full view on the stage to actually complain.
They were within the last to enter the theatre and soon after they had sat in their seats with a glass of white wine, the curtain raised on the set of the inside of a Victorian London flat, a young blond man idly laid on a couch, a book in his hands. Another young man entered the stage, apparently expected by the first one and the two men shook hands, finally being introduced as Algernon for the first one and John for the second.
As the play goes on, Greg started to think that he would have been a fool to refuse Mycroft's last night offer to take a night off and he wondered how he could have stayed more than 50 years without actually taking any chance to see such a good piece of theatrical literature performed. As the light were turning on in the stalls for the interval, the detective noticed the little smirk his partner had plastered on his face, as if he knew exactly whet the yarder had in mind.
The inspector hated this smirk as much as he found it incredibly attractive because he knew that it means that the auburn had deduced that he had been wrong and that he knew it as much as it means that the official was in a good mood and that he was most probably to tease him before saying him something kind and lovely.
"So, still believe we should have spent our night at home in front of the television ?" the elder Holmes indeed teased him.
"I've missed the new episode of Doctor Who." replied the yarder, purposely dishonest.
"That's really a shame no one have invented Iplayer yet ..." chuckled Mycroft before leaning in to kiss him with fierce passion.
They were parting, desperately needing to breath, Greg's hand lazily lingering on his boyfriend's cheek when the auburn caught a glance exchanged between two middle-aged women behind them.
"They could have a little decency not to expose their gross deviance around. There are children in the room." he overheard one whispering to the other.
"And you could have a little decency not to spew your medieval belief around. There are children in the room." replied the elder Holmes turning around and showing them his most sarcastic smile.
"But ... We weren't talking about you sir." retorted one of the woman, blushing, apparently very embarrassed of having been caught in the act.
"Oh no, that's right, there is so many couple kissing around, especially some that could be qualified of deviants by very close-minded people that I really wonder of which you were talking about." humourlessly larked the official.
"It's incredible how people like you take the piss at everything." intervene the second woman. "Why do you always have to make such a fuss and to show yourself around like that all the time ?"
"Oh yes, because we all know that witnessing two men kissing will immediately turn all the kids in the room gay. What a shame it doesn't work the same with heterosexual couple kissing or we will all be straighter than a pool given the frequency we witness that in the streets." mocked the yarder, fed up that strangers were even daring to spoil his evening.
The second woman was to add something when the light turned off again, announcing that the play was to resume and that the interval was over. In a last provocation before turning back around to face the stage the elder Holmes smiled his scoffer grin and added "Maybe we shouldn't let the children watch a play written by a gay man and featuring a transvestite. That may gave them the ambition of becoming successful and open-minded."
The two men spend the next five minutes chuckling silently at Mycroft last occurrence, the policeman's hand tenderly stroking his partner's thigh while they could hear one of the women behind them mumbling incompressible words.
The second half was, in the eye of the yarder even funnier and greater that the first one and when they exited the theatre an hour and a half later, not without smirking one last time to the two women behind them and sharing another kiss just to annoy them, the detective had the impression of having seen what had probably become his favourite play, far before the performance of the Wind in the Willows he had seen when he was young at his local theatre, performed by this odd three-actors theatre group which name he was incapable to remember but that was at least as odd.
"So, still regret not seeing Doctor Who ?" wondered the auburn as they were back in the black car.
"It's alright, Sarah hasn't spoiled the entire thing." chuckled Greg. "No, it was great. I can see why you were chosen as Lady Bracknell."
"Really ? And why that then if I may ask ?" smirked the elder Holmes.
"Come on, an overbearing, powerful, old-school figure ? That doesn't remind you of anyone ?" snorted the policeman before pecking his husband on the cheek.
"Be careful, a child may see us through the tinted glass with his special eyesight power and might instantly turn drama queen." laughed Mycroft before responding with a passionate kiss on the DI's lips.
"Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or die." he declaimed in a high-pitched, posh as possible voice. " This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way approve of the modern sympathy with invalids. I consider it morbid. Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor uncle, but he never seems to take much notice ... as far as any improvement in his ailment goes. Well, Algernon, of course if you are obliged to be beside the bedside of Mr. Bunbury, I have nothing more to say. But I would be much obliged if you would ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse on Saturday, for I rely on you to arrange my music for me. It is my last reception, and one wants something that will encourage conversation, particularly at the end of the season when every one has practically said whatever they had to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much."
"Your memory for the most unuseful things will always amaze me." winked Greg, a little smile plastered on his face.
"Theatre is never futile dear." the elder Holmes tutted him, still in his Lady Bracknell impersonating voice, making both of them crack in laughters.

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The song featured in this chapter is called "Sexual Tension" by the great Fox Jackson-Keen, go check his youtube channel because it's dope :)