~Eleven~

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(Third Person POV)

Lestrade groaned softly, glancing at the time. It was no where near midnight, and they were both almost asleep. Of course they'd have a long and tiring day that day!

Mycroft took another sip of wine, crossing his legs. "Its eleven thirty."

"Really? It feels like its still ten." Lestrade muttered, shifting closer to his boyfriend.

"Mmhm," Mycroft hummed tiredly in agreement, wrapping an arm around him. Lestrade leaned his head against Mycroft's shoulder, yawning.

"New's Year Day is over rated," he muttered, looking up at Mycroft. He snorted, nodding slightly.

"Why're we trying to stay up again?" Mycroft asked.

"Uhhh...New Year's kiss, or something like that." Lestrade chuckled.

"Its almost midnight...can't we just call it a night?" Mycroft grumbled, tired.

"Mm, you read my mind Myc." Lestrade yawned again, pulling his head away from Mycroft's shoulder. He tugged on Mycroft's tie, bringing their lips together.

"Happy new year, Gregory," Mycroft murmured, his forehead against Lestrade's.

"Happy new year, Mycroft," Lestrade smiled, kissing him again.

The two finished their glass of wine and went to bed, still in their clothes and a blanket draped only across their legs, holding the other for warmth.

~Mystrade Oneshot Book~Where stories live. Discover now