A/N: Set shortly after the scene where they discover The Woman is SHERLOCKED. In my mind, Sherlock is biromantic asexual, while Mycroft is aromantic heterosexual who occasionally employs prostitutes to satisfy his needs (there's a clever line hinting at that in the story, heh). Enjoy angry Holmes boys. Also, abrupt ending, so prepare yourself.

"You're such an attractive man, you know."

Sherlock looked up, startled. He narrowed his eyes at his brother who stood still, staring at him with a curious expression.

"Have you sunk so low, Mycroft?" Sherlock said harshly.

Mycroft didn't smile. Instead, he took a step forward. Sherlock stood up straighter, almost like he was preparing for a confrontation.

"Do you know how attractive you are?" Mycroft asked, his voice flat but with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "You could have your choice of women. Those as vile and perverse as Miss Adler, all the way to the sweet, the innocent, like Miss Hooper. They all want you, they would all have you if you gave them the slightest chance."

Sherlock tried to mask the confusion on his face. The brothers regularly had conversations John Watson would call unusual, but Mycroft had given up this topic years before. "And if I don't want to give them a chance?"

"Clearly you don't," answered Mycroft. "John Watson is the same way, however. If he's more your... flavor."

"John isn't gay."

"I don't think that matters at this point," said Mycroft, raising his eyebrows. "He would do anything for you. And you might be surprised, dear brother, at how irrelevant sexual orientation becomes when one falls in love."

"Are you trying to tell me something, brother?" Sherlock snapped.

"I'm trying to ask you something."

"Then ask it so we can move on."

"Have you ever had sex?"

"Why the hell is everyone so obsessed with that question?" Sherlock exploded and his fist landed on the table, shaking the tea set with a rattle.

Mycroft calmly glanced at the tea set before looking at Sherlock again. "I can't speak for everyone, but I'm curious because I care about you."

"How does caring about me have anything to do with it?" Sherlock asked incredulously. "Besides, I thought you had your mind made up on the answer."

"I have my assumptions, knowing what I do about you. You've never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, John Watson notwithstanding and I don't think you've had sex with him, so there is a logical assumption. But a person doesn't need that kind of relationship to have sex, and if you wanted to, I have no doubt you could do whatever you wanted without my knowing about it."

"How could anyone do anything without -"

"You could," said Mycroft simply. "I watch you carefully, but you've given my people the slip on a regular basis. Only a few minutes unaccounted for could be all you need."

"We're done here," said Sherlock and he turned to leave.

"No, we're not," said Mycroft.

Sherlock spun around to face him again. "You've yet to explain why it is you care."

"You're my brother and I love you, and despite what you might believe about me, I do want you to be happy. I wonder if being with someone would help you find happiness."

There was a pause in which Sherlock's hard expression gradually softened and his confusion shone through. Finally he said, "I'm with John."

"That isn't what I meant."

"Is it not?" asked Sherlock. "You want me to be with someone who makes me happy. I live with John, he's the only colleague I've ever had, he's my friend -"

"Also the only one you've ever had."

Sherlock glanced around the room, suddenly avoiding Mycroft's eyes. "If you can't see that my being with John is exactly the kind of relationship you're asking about, your observation skills aren't what they used to be."

"Do you mean to tell me you and he shag?"

Sherlock's expression hardened again. "I don't care about sex. It's a distraction. Woman, man, sex, no sex, it's all too complicated to be of any use to me. John is my partner, in any way that truly matters, and if your real concern is my having a relationship that brings me happiness, you will accept that answer."

"And yet he dates other people -"

"Because dating does not matter," spat Sherlock. "It isn't about exclusivity. He can be what I need him to be without giving up that side of himself."

"I cannot deny that his loyalty to you," said Mycroft slowly, "surpasses almost any I've ever seen. But he isn't like you, Sherlock. A relationship like this isn't the only one he needs. Someday he will fall in love. Someday he may even get married. He will move out of your flat and he will dedicate his time and energy towards his real partner - he may even start a family. He will have to get a real job and he will talk to you less and less -"

"That isn't your concern!"

"It is my concern!" snapped Mycroft, raising his voice. "I don't want your heart, your bloody, dysfunctional heart, to get broken again by something you should have seen coming. What you have with John Watson feels real to you because you don't know what real is."

"And you do? While we're on the subject of people who've never had a real relationship, let's talk about you, shall we? When was the last time you spent any time with a woman that wasn't business related?" Sherlock snarled, and there was a silence while the implications of his question hung in the air. Mycroft's eyes narrowed.

"What I do doesn't leave me with a broken heart, Sherlock. And try though you might, you are incapable of detaching yourself like I do. At the end of the day, you've never walked in on me about to die of a drug overdose, thanks to some emotional pain that wouldn't go away, and no, I will never forget that." His voice was raised again. "You are the only person alive capable of hurting me and if something happened to you -"

"You would get over it in a week because you're an ice man!"

"And you're jealous of that!" Mycroft shouted. "You cling to John Watson because you're incapable of being happy alone, but he's not going to be with you forever, Sherlock. And what are you going to do then? Unless you're going to propose or are willing to compromise and have sex with him because he wants it, he will leave you for someone better suited to him. You know it as well as I do, but you can't face it because you're afraid."

Sherlock finally turned around and stormed from the room.