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With Him (Mycroft/John) [Sep. 27th, 2014|07:27 pm]
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Title: With Him
Author: alley_skywalker
Paring: Mycroft/John
Characters: Mycroft, Sherlock, John (in mention)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~500
Summary: AU. While Sherlock was away, Mycroft and John fell into a relationship. But now Sherlock's back.

“You’re with him?”

It’s a question, but not because Sherlock is unsure of his deduction, but because the entire thing is too bizarre for him to grasp at first.

“You’re seriously with him. Like in a relationship? That thing that ordinary people do. Where they hold hands and kiss and do all sorts of nonsensical things?”

Mycroft takes a moment to catalogue the details that may have given him away. After all, he was always rather meticulous about keeping his private life private. It is also the first time he and Sherlock got to talk and actually observe each other since their return to London. “Well done, Sherlock. Your skills have improved, I see.”

“Don’t dodge the question, Mycroft.” It’s sharp, defensive, almost jealous.

Mycroft suppresses a smug expression. He wants to see this, wants to see Sherlock squirm and burn up with regret and uncertainty. After all, it’s the least he can do, given the price Mycroft will have to pay once this is over. “It’s been a long time, Sherlock. He’s moved on with his life.” Mycroft knows Sherlock will not just go away. Where would he go, anyway? But he feels compelled to say it, compelled to point out to his indiscrete, careless brother just what his barging back into everyone’s lives is going to cause. Feels the need to point out that he isn’t completely welcome. Mycroft loves him, but Sherlock isn’t the only one he loves. Not anymore.

“What life? I’ve been away.” Sherlock looks at himself in the mirror appraisingly. Yes, Mycroft thinks, practically reading the young man’s thoughts, you do need a shave. “More importantly, though, what does this have to do with you?”

Oh baby brother, if you only knew. Funny how rebellious younger siblings always felt their elder, more responsible counterparts were incapable of feelings. “You need to shave, Sherlock,” Mycroft points out, saying what is on both their minds. He has Anthea bring in the things and sits quietly as Sherlock cleans up.

Mycroft can already see John’s face – the disbelief, the betrayal. As though it wasn’t enough that one man he loved had lied to the good doctor. Mycroft can already picture the scene in front of his eyes – the tightening of John’s jaw, the razor sharp edge in his voice, his soldier-straight back as he disappears into 221B, leaving Mycroft alone on the emptying street as the streetlights come on. He can already feel the emptiness spreading through his chest. That had started before, when he had first realized that it was time for Sherlock to come back.

“Mycroft, are you paying attention?” Sherlock is almost pouting.

“Yes, Sherlock.”

A look of bemused concern passes briefly over Sherlock’s face as he stops his train of thought to regard his brother. “It is true. You and John are together.” The awe on his face is almost comical.

Mycroft sighs resignedly and allows himself a sad, dry smile. “Yes, Sherlock.” But don’t worry, baby brother, it’s not for long now.