John never noticed how good looking Mycroft was until the two of them were awkwardly sipping tea together, waiting for Sherlock to arrive for brunch and a chat.
He didn't understand what was making his heart race- if it was the way his collar of his shirt gently brushed against his neck, or the dainty way he sipped his tea and licked his lips afterward...
"Mr. Watson, I do believe you are staring."