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Family. A hallmark of the season and something that holds a special place in the hearts of the general population. Some families are big, others small; some families are blood, others are built on the bonds that were made along the way. For many people, Christmas can bring joy, sorrow, and a whole slew of messy emotions.
“Mycroft?” Greg peeked into the kitchen. After finding the bed empty, he decided to go on a hunt for his partner in crime, “My, love? You in here?”
“Just in the pantry dear.”
He sat at the island, waiting for Mycroft to come around the corner. It was Christmas Eve, this year Mycroft volunteered to host the party for his family, and he was nothing but a ball of nerves and anxiety since the week began. “What’s your plan for the sweets?” Greg smiled, watching Mycroft carry a bag of flour out of their walk-in pantry, “That delicious angel food cake? Maybe some muffins or cupcakes?”
“Other than the usual, I'll be making brownies with peppermint bark chocolate on top,” He was still clad in his cotton pyjamas, loose T-shirt leaving his pale, freckled collarbone bare, “I haven’t made it in quite some time-” The stress truly got to him around this time of year, both from work and the anticipation of guests. It was almost physically painful for Greg to see his partner so downtrodden.
“And it’s going to be amazing .”
“If you say so, Gregory…”
Greg walked around to take him in his embrace, tilting his head to kiss Mycroft’s exposed skin, “It’s going to be amazing, darlin’, it always is.” He used one hand to slip under his shirt, lightly touching Mycroft’s soft skin, “You doubt yourself too much.”
“I suppose-” He leaned into the DI’s gentle caress, “You’re so good to me, Gregory…”
“I always try to be.”
Although he wasn’t much of a baker himself, Greg helped his partner in every way he could think of: collecting ingredients, cleaning utensils and bowls, giving emotional support hugs to his brave baking boyfriend (Mycroft groaned at the impromptu nickname). He even got to put the chocolate-y confections into the oven when all was said and done, “Gregory-”
“Yes?”
“Are you positive that there isn’t any family that you would like to invite to dinner?” Mycroft worried his lip, looking down at the counter. Lestrade found it endearing, how much he opened his heart at home, and put on an encouraging smile.
“Positive, love,” Greg put a hand on his shoulder, “The only family I got… well they don’t want anything to do with me, and the feeling is mutual. I’m happy to spend it with your family.”
“You know how they can get Gregory! Rowdy, unruly, and rude at best, and being under the same roof for more than an hour is going to make it so… gah-.” The thought itself, with so many Holmes family members in such close proximity, the chaos would be unmatched, “And not to mention the alcohol- I’m going to need at least six glasses of wine to withstand their… their noise!”
“My, look at me.” He slowly brought his gaze to meet Greg’s bright brown eyes which were filled with nothing but admiration and affection, “You’re worrying yourself too much, take a deep breath for me.” Greg waited for his partner to do as told, “No matter how the night ends, or how it begins, you’re still mine and I will still love you all the same. Chaotic family or not.”
Mycroft allowed himself to relax as he let out a sigh, surely it would be okay.
After a particularly messy cake-decorating session, the two put on their clothes for the party. Greg in a simple, comfortable suit, and Mycroft, of course, in his best ‘festive’ three piece, not sparing any detail. From the decorative fob that hung from his vest to the snowflake tie pin and cufflink set, Mycroft was truly ‘in the spirit of Christmas’. As Gregory cooked his own contribution to the dinner, Mycroft puttered about the manor, ensuring the proper doors were locked and the liquor cabinet full to the brim.
“Only an hour before they get here…” He checked his phone for the millionth time since settling back into the kitchen with this partner, “Is there anything else that needs to be done?”
“Table set?”
“Yes.”
“Er, booze?”
“Secured.”
“Desserts?”
“Tucked away from prying hands.”
Greg chuckled at that one, “My, you’re worrying again.”
Mycroft watched as his partner poked at the beautiful roast he made, “I know.”
“While this rests, I want us to spend this last little hour just relaxing, eh?” He used a spoon to drizzle the au jus onto the meat, careful to get into every crevice. It was only one of several things he had prepared for the evening, “How about that? Maybe cheat a bit and crack open the bourbon early?”
“That sounds… nice.”
“C’est magnifique!” he exclaimed, presenting the last garnished dish to Mycroft, “Not bad right?”
“ Amazing , love.”
“Alright, c’mon worry-wart.”
Mycroft looked scandalised, “I am not a ‘worry-wart’ Gregory.”
“Mhm,” He laughed, sitting Mycroft down on the couch. After grabbing two glasses and the fanciest decanter from the cabinet, he joined the disgruntled politician, “A toast to family, and to you not being a worry-wart.”
The Holmes rolled his eyes, clinking his glass against Greg’s, “What ever would I do without you?”
“Dunno, but it’s a good thing you won’t ever know the answer to it. ‘Cause unless the world ends, I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled Mycroft close to plant a firm kiss on his cheek, “Of course that’s assuming nobody kills me tonight.”
Mycroft groaned, “I didn’t even think about that, I’m so sorry Gregory-”
“Don’t be, love. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on my head as long as you’re here, best to stick close together so he can’t off me in the library with a candlestick.” His partner laughed, “What?”
“He wouldn’t dare take away my orso,” Mycroft returned the kiss, lingering on Greg’s skin a moment more before cupping his cheek, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. With their bourbon forgotten on the side table, they languidly kissed their worries away. Gentle lips on one another in a silent promise of love. Greg invited himself under Mycroft’s undershirt, firmly placing his hand against his partner’s soft tummy, humming at the texture. It wouldn’t be the first time a nice snog distracted them.
Knock knock .
Mycroft gasped, how could the time have flown by so fast ? He and Gregory untangled, making themselves presentable before getting to the landing, “Who do you think it is?”
“Seven o’clock on the dot,” Mycroft adjusted his tie in the mirror, “Lucifer and Charlie.”
“I’m not answering tha-”
“Open the door, love, please?”
How could he refuse that beautiful doe-eyed stare? Letting out a breath, he opened the door with a smile, “Charlie! Lucifer, it’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too lad,” The older man, Lucifer, greeted the DI with a tight hug. He looked sharp as ever in a dark grey tweed suit, a burgundy tie and pocket square brought the festive charm and his matching fedora tied it all together. And of course, his ever-charming ‘smile of Lucifer’.
“Gregory,” The younger, Charlie, looked Greg up and down. He adorned a red, grey, and black shawl, but of course whatever lay underneath the simple coat would be extravagant, the half- Italian man loved, and lived, fashion. Charlie and Greg never quite got along, considering Charlie claims Mycroft as his own child and Greg was ‘intruding’ on that. Mother hen, to say the least.
Lucifer interrupted the awkward moment by clearing his throat, “We come bearing gifts of food and good booze.”
“I’ll show you where you can put those, and er- Charlie, Mycroft is-”
The model slipped past Greg, taking Mycroft into his embrace, “Oh Muffin! Mi sei mancato tanto, come stai ?”
“I missed you too Charlie, I am well,” He melted into the hug, “ Bello .”
“You sound stressed, Muffin! Has Gregory been bothering you?” Charlie put his hand on the nape of Mycroft’s neck, gently rubbing up and down in a soothing motion, “Oh my sweet Muffin-”
“It’s not Gregory, I assure you.”
“Thanks for helping with the bags lad, I could’ve gotten them myself though,” Lucifer chuckled, opening the insulated bag with piping hot containers of food, “Something on your mind?”
Greg looked down, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”
“Penny for your thoughts then, I’m sure Mycroft can keep Charlie plenty distracted.” They sat at the island in the kitchen, Greg paused for a moment in silent contemplation, “Is it about Charlie?”
“A bit, yes.”
Lucifer gave him a sad smile, “Lad, let me tell you something about Charlie and I: when we first met, we were young, stupid bastards. Just like you and Mycroft.” Lestrade laughed at that, trying to imagine the older couple as the young adventurous duo he heard so many stories about. “We ran side-by-side into the face of danger for years, a decade even. Of course no relationship is perfect and we split for a few months. I was far too naive and cowardly to give myself entirely to him.” He twisted the silver band on his ring finger, “I finally changed for the better after it was almost too late, up in the mountains along the Franco-Swiss border, and we settled into a new, better life.”
“You never told me that one, about Switzerland.”
“Maybe another day, Greg. It’s not a very cheerful one,” Lucifer opened his hands palms up to Greg, “C’mon I won’t bite, I need you to listen very closely.” Lestrade took in a deep breath before placing his own hands in the older man’s, looking him in the eye. “You and Mycroft are going to have hardships, you’re going to be scared, there may even be a point in which you feel hopeless… but this love you have with my nephew? It’s powerful and I’m confident you two will pull through.
“My dear boy, Charlie, he was hurt by so many people. His hope shattered to bits over and over, and I nearly became one of those people. Charlie doesn’t trust people with his heart; though, with Mycroft, the moment he opened his eyes, Charlie fell in love. He’s protected Mycroft through everything, and I mean everything , and that’s a hard love to relinquish to another person.”
“I’m not… replacing Charlie, I don’t want to take away that bond he and Mycroft have. I could never do that to My,” Greg was taken aback at the sentiment, “Does Charlie think that?”
“Certainly not, but this is his little boy he’s helped raise from a babe… and he doesn’t want Mycroft to be hurt like he was. He’s learning to let go of the apron strings, he really is and I’ve seen him give in. What he wants is the best for Mycroft, and you’re doing a right-amazing job at being the best. Give him time.”
“Talk to me Mycroft,” Charlie’s tone took a serious turn, his icy blue eyes drowned in worry, “I can tell when you’re disturbed.”
“Well…” He looked around, not wanting to meet his uncle’s gaze, “Could we take this to the sitting room?”
“Of course, anything to make you comfortable love.”
As they sat down, Charlie removed his shawl and hung it over the back of the couch. He wore a blood-red silk blouse of sorts, the sleeves being loose and sheer and two golden cuffs at his wrists weighed down the delicate fabric. “ Bello .”
“You’re so sweet,” He placed a quick peck to Mycroft’s cheek, “now tell me, what’s got you so upset?”
He held tight to Charlie’s hand, his body tense, “I know you want to protect me, Charlie, and I couldn’t ask for a better uncle. You’ve supported me at every turn and I cannot thank you enough-”
“Of course,” Charlie cupped his face, swiping his thumb along Mycroft’s cheekbone, “And you have absolutely no need to thank me, so don’t get all sappy.” He smiled as Mycroft leaned into the touch.
“I just want to know something, Charlie.”
“I’m an open book.”
“Why do you not support Gregory and I?” Mycroft never once questioned his uncle’s actions before, ever, but this… passive aggressiveness needed to change, “We’ve been together for months now, and he’s been so incredibly good to me-”
“I’m going to stop you there,” Charlie moved his hand away from Mycroft’s face, lowering to his lap, nervously toying with the hem of his shirt. “Mycroft Holmes, you may not be my child but you are mine. My sweet little muffin who I have loved for his entire life. The little boy who asked me to make gingerbread houses and dress him up, to go outside and make snowmen on Christmas day and cuddle with me after we got all cold… Except, my muffin isn’t little anymore… is he?” Mycroft could see the tears build in Charlie’s kohl-lined eyes, “It’s been so hard for me to realise that you’ve grown into the most handsome, strong man I have ever met. Don’t tell Lucifer . And you don’t need my protection anymore. So, it’s not that I don’t support your relationship with Gregory, it’s just that I’ve been so blinded by my own love for you that I didn’t see how in love you are.” The model used both hands to cup his nephew’s face, his cold ring made the younger shiver, “No matter what life you choose, what path you may take, I’ll always be there to cheer you on. But I promise I’ll stick to the sidelines now, no more backseat driving.”
Mycroft chuckled, putting his own hands over Charlie’s, “I love you so much Charlie,” he closed his eyes and sighed, “and thank you, for everything…”
Charlie kissed the tip of Mycroft’s nose before pulling him for another hug, “Oh I’m going to miss this.”
“You won’t have to,” the politician squeezed harder, “Because no matter how close Gregory and I get, we will always have this.”
“Oh thank God-” He quickly blinked away his tears, “Look at me getting all wishy-washy when I was the one telling you not to-”
Mycroft took his pocket square and offered it to Charlie who took it with a smile, “wouldn’t want you to ruin your makeup-”
“Let’s go find our better halves eh?” Lucifer chuckled, letting go of the younger’s hands, “They ought to be around here somewhere-” The agent was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell tolling, “-and speaking of better halves, it seems my worse counterpart has arrived only…” he checked his watch, squinting to see the small face, “twenty minutes late. Typical .”
Greg laughed, getting up from his stool at the island, “Don’t be rude to Chris-”
“Oi, I was talking about Rudy!” Lucifer followed in quick procession, staying on Greg’s heel as they meandered back to the landing.
Greg opened the door with a slight flourish, making the older man laugh, and greeted their new guests, “Rudy! ” He shook their respective hands, smiling, “C’mon in, it’s freezing out there-”
“You try wearing silk in this weather,” Rudy chuckled after hanging his coat up, rubbing his arms for warmth. Lucifer stood to the side, eyeing his brother with fear in his eyes, “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“Rudolph Holmes, do not tell me you did this on purpose.”
Rudy cocked his eyebrow and attempted to understand why Lucifer was being cryptic, “I do a lot of things on purpose-” he got up close to the shorter man, “-and I do a lot by accident but that’s not the point.”
Before Lucifer could respond, there was a loud, dramatic gasp from the neighbouring hallway followed by a high pitched, “Why I never!” Charlie stood at the threshold, glaring daggers at his brother in law, “Rudy!”
“Oh you need to go change Charlie-boy.” Greg and Chris left the landing to see what all the commotion was about. Lo and Behold, Rudy and Charlie were in a staring match: they were wearing the same top. An unforgivable and frankly embarrassing fashion faux pas for the two of them.
“Oh I need to go change?” Charlie stepped closer, his boots making a loud thud on the wooden floor, “Who’s the model here, Holmes ?”
“Drag Queen, Jackpot .”
“It’s Box .”
Lucifer, Greg and Chris stood in the doorway of the landing, close but far away enough not to interfere with the cat-fight. Greg caught Mycroft’s eye as he stood in the hallway, chest bubbling with laughter, the smile that spread on the politician’s face was easily the most beautiful thing Greg had ever seen. Mycroft put a finger to his lips and pointed at the pair who were about to continue their rivalry.
Charlie looked up at his offender, hands firmly placed on his hips, “Drag Queen or not Rudolph, I wore this top on the runway, you need to change into something more your speed .”
“I make it look so much better though,” The other man said with no little flourish, a twisted smirk of satisfaction playing on his lips.
Box scoffed, slapping a hand to his chest as if he had been shot, “Taller doesn’t mean better!”
Greg was slightly aware of the fact that Lucifer had gotten his phone out to record their verbal fisticuffs, the two fashionistas not realising. Rudy brought himself to his full height, “At least it doesn’t make my arse look unreasonably fat-”
With those words, Charlie paused and twisted a bit to look at his bum as if to check, “You-” He smiled widely, dimples on full show, “You think my arse is big, Rudy?”
Chris, who was at the back of the pack of confused men, whispered, “What the fuck-?” not understanding the exchange in the slightest. Greg was right with him, and with a quick glance to Mycroft, his partner seemed to be in the same boat with his mouth slightly agape in shock and befuddlement, eyes wide.
“Oh it’s bloody huge Charlie, don’t you look in the mirror?” The older man chuckled, bringing his brother in law into a hug, “Merry Christmas you twat.” They laughed together in their embrace, swaying back and forth, “To be completely honest, your outfit looks a bit better, those boots are fantastic-”
“You flatterer.”
Mycroft cleared his throat, “Well, now that we’ve gotten ourselves acquainted- I believe it's time we go to the dining room for our little feast.”
Dinner, of course, was all but peaceful. Mycroft wanted to bury his head in the sand as soon as Rudy opened his mouth. “Charlie-” oh good lord, he was dragging Charlie into it, “Do you remember that one year when we took Mycroft to a strip club for Christmas-”
“I’m too sober for this,” Mycroft mumbled, wrapping his hand firmly around the wine glass in front of him.
“Oh yes!” He tapped Rudy’s shoulder, “It was so fun to see Muffin let loose a bit, do you want to hear the story Greg?”
Lestrade was a bit taken aback, he wasn’t used to Charlie addressing him in such a casual manner, “Mr. Posh getting wasted at a strip club? I’m all ears!” He gently nudged his partner who had already finished his glass and was moving on to Gregs, “Oi, you need to eat too.”
“If I’m going to sit through this torture, then I am having as much alcohol as possible, Gregory.”
Lucifer chimed in, mouth half-full, “I brought a bottle of cognac, it’s in the blue bag.”
“Thank you.” Mycroft stood, steadying himself on the back of Greg’s chair.
Rudy tutted at his nephew before leaning in, “So he was about 25, just finishing up his first Master’s degree and he was going to spend his holiday at work,” He smiled fondly at the memory, “The lad was apprenticing under my division at the time. So I forced him to take the day off.” Charlie began to develop a wicked grin. “We devised a plan to kidnap the boy and take him somewhere, since Lucifer was off on some lousy conference-”
“Hated every bloody second of it, the conversation was drier than the liquor.”
“-anyhow, I own a small chain of clubs in London, so what better place to take him?”
The shorter man giggled, “Oh he was incredibly uncomfortable, the poor thing, wouldn’t even look at the entertainment-”
Mycroft called from the kitchen, “I don’t enjoy watching strangers rid themselves of clothes for money!” The sound of a cork popping out of a bottle followed, it made Rudy laugh.
“That’s what he said before drinking half the bar and then some.” Charlie was actually smiling while talking to his nephew’s partner, it was shocking.
Greg laughed aloud, trying to imagine his stoic partner drunkenly dancing to the beat of some electric pop, or cheering on a stripper in the neon lights. How different he would have looked, the worry lines gone, his red hair vibrant as ever and freckles standing out from his pale skin. Mycroft locked himself away in his office so much that he never got enough sunlight for those beautiful freckles to develop, his hair was regularly dyed to seem ‘more professional’ ( which was bollocks in Greg’s opinion) in contrast to his natural ginger locks. Maybe the pair would have pictures of him when he was younger-
“Stop torturing the man,” Lucifer protested, giving Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek.
Just as everyone finished off their first course, Mycroft came back into the room, leaving a soft touch on Greg’s shoulder before sitting back down. He didn’t drink all that much, but he did take a bit to regain his wounded pride. “Apologies love,” he leaned onto the table, “I didn’t mean to leave you in the cougar den all alone-”
“Hey!” Lucifer, Charlie and Chris glared at Mycroft who just shrugged, Rudy on the other hand had a satisfied look on his face as if that were a compliment. The table erupted in laughter and quickly became full of chatter about anything and everything.
Greg, who was talking with Chris, felt Mycroft’s hand slip into his own and squeeze hard. For a moment, he was worried that all the interaction was getting to him, but once Greg drew his gaze to Mycroft, he knew that he was only taking a moment to unwind. Lestrade drank in the image of his partner, looking at the slight blush that rose on his cheeks from the alcohol, his thin delicate fingers twiddling with his own thick digits. There was a soft, tender look in his eyes, almost dreamy. God, he was enamoured with Mycroft… every single thing about the man made Greg’s heart flutter and his chest swell with nothing but adoration and love .
Mycroft met his gaze, smiling, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Not at all,” he brought his hand up to cup his cheek and place a kiss on his forehead. But it was short-lived as someone, Charlie, cleared their throat, bringing the two back to the present. Greg felt his face heat up, tearing his eyes away from Mycroft, “Sorry-”
“Don’t apologise,” Lucifer smiled, taking Charlie’s hand into his own, “How about we move this to the sitting room, eh?”
“Yes, that would be ideal.” The couple’s guests began to file out of the dining room in pairs. Lucifer with his arm wrapped tightly around Charlie’s waist, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose, Charlie giggling at the gesture with eyes shining bright. Chris held Rudy’s hand loosely, his thumb running over the taller man’s smooth skin. These men had been together for years… They were all a happy family and here Greg Lestrade was, brand new to their years’ long traditions. He hesitated for a moment, some force of anxiety anchoring him to his seat. “Gregory-?”
“I…” He hung his head low, “How on Earth do I fit in here, My…” They had been close friends for years because of Mycroft’s rambunctious little brother, and earlier in the year they had finally crossed that oh-so delicate line. It had been the best months of Greg’s life to be honest, he was never this happy with his ex wife, and what he created with Mycroft… it was genuine and open, no secrets (except those of the government sort). And in that time, he’s met the ‘secret’ half of his family, the ones who truly raised him and made him the man he is today. Greg always wondered why Mycroft and Sherlock were so different, and there it was: Charlie, Lucifer and Rudy. Chris was a newer addition and truly stepped into the picture when Mycroft was already an adult, but he was family nonetheless.
It never occurred to him just how out of place he was among them.. And now here he was.
“Now look who’s being the worry-wart,” Mycroft sat down again, hand on Greg’s thigh, “Gregory, you belong here just as much as Chris and Charlie… they may not be family in blood, or even through marriage, but they are family all the same. My family. And although some have taken longer than others to come around-”
“A bit-”
“Ah- yes,” he chuckled, his nose wrinkling a bit. Greg loved those smiles, “Regardless, you belong here, dear, and nothing is going to change that.”
“I love you so much.”
“And I you, Gregory.”
By the time they joined the older men, they were bursting into laughter… or at least two of them. Rudy and Charlie sat on one of the couches with drinks in-hand, Lucifer and Chris leaned against the mantlepiece looking particularly dejected. Greg squinted to try and get a hold of the situation at hand, Mycroft instantly joined in the jovial scene. Charlie gestured the silver-haired man over to sit with them.
“Gregory,” He began, “Just a bit of crucial Holmes-Box history. Lucifer here-”
“ Charlie -” The man groaned, burying his face in his hands, “Please dear boy-”
“Lucifer had the biggest crush on poor Chris here when they were still studying at the RA together, and he got friendzoned!” Charlie’s laughter only grew as Chris started to crumple to the floor in an embarrassed heap, “And-and the best part? He’s dating Lucifer’s brother!”
Greg couldn’t help the loud howl that came from him. The two usually-regal men getting reduced to blushing teens had to have been one of the most entertaining things he had seen all night. Rudy finally got a gasping breath, “What can I say? I’m an excellent matchmaker! Just look at Lucifer and Charlie for instance-” Lucifer groaned once more, joining Chris at the base of the fireplace, sitting comfortably on the stone, “Lucifer was about to let this beautiful twink-”
“Not a twink Rudy-”
“-absolutely gorgeous twink slip through his fingers-” Rudy gestured to the two with his whiskey glass, “and I saved the day by knocking some sense into dear brother mine.” Ah, so that’s where Mycroft got the saying from. “But of course I didn’t do everything,” He patted Charlie on the shoulder, who looked a bit more than defeated at the topic, “These two are strong willed and bloody stubborn, a perfect match.”
Greg looked around at the small family and couldn’t help but let a stupid grin spread across his lips. Of course he was welcome here. He may just be an old beat copper, but that didn’t matter, these people had unconditional loyalty to one another.
Charlie stood to refill his glass, no wonder Mycroft made sure to stock his cabinet beforehand because this crew could drink his liquor like water, “A toast to the season, to all you bastards… and to Mycroft and Greg.”
Chris and Lucifer joined in, handing said couple their own glasses and toasted. A successful night indeed.
“I’m glad you could join us, lad,” Rudy looked over at Greg and Mycroft, “You’ve been treating our boy well.”
“ Very well,” Mycroft took Greg’s hand once more, “Oh- what’s this?”
They looked up to where Charlie stood behind them, his smile beaming down on them, “Well?” He held a single sprig of mistletoe with a bright red ribbon tied around it. Greg looked around and saw that Lucifer was ready with his camera. His partner’s face turned a beet red as he took in the situation, “C’mon, tis’ the season after all!”
Greg hooked his finger under Mycroft’s chin, bringing him into a soft kiss which Mycroft gladly deepened. Cheers from the others sounded off and Mycroft smiled into it before pulling back, “Merry Christmas, Gregory.”
As he opened his eyes, he saw the official’s face glow with what could only be described as pure joy, “A merry Christmas indeed.”