Chapter 1

When Mycroft was twenty-four, Sherlock made his move. He had always been watching his older brother. Watching, waiting, scheming on how to get Mycroft.

He only partly succeeded.

Mycroft still argued, still claimed that it was filthy, immoral, wrong. Sherlock still rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, Mycroft, we're already social misfits, might as well go all the way." He smirked slightly and reclined on Mycroft's bed. "Besides, you didn't fight me."

Mycroft moved sharply to get out of his bed, but Sherlock grabbed him and pulled him back up against his chest, whispering into his ear. "I will never let you go, Mycroft." His hands moved gently up Mycroft's torso holding him tight, reveling in touching his brother's skin. "Never ever, ever."

Mycroft shuddered. "Sherlock, this will pass. It's only a phase. An act of rebellion. You know it's wrong, and that's the allure. You can't help but do something that society deems as wrong."

Sherlock chuckled slightly and bit Mycroft's ear. "You're only partly right." He exhaled against Mycroft's neck. "There is a certain allure of sinning, but…" He smiled against Mycroft's skin and nibbled on his shoulder. "It's not a phase."

Mycroft tore himself out of Sherlock's grip. "It will never happen again, Sherlock." He turned around and jolted slightly. From the look on Sherlock's face, he half expected Sherlock to lick his lips and have red, glowing eyes too. He drew himself up. "I will never give you another chance to do this. This is done." He moved to his wardrobe and started getting dressed. He only had two hours to get to work.

"Yes, it will happen again." Sherlock stretched, indolent, and gave his brother a lazy smirk. "You know it will."

Mycroft didn't honor the comment with a reply, instead, focused on slipping his belt around his trousers. He could feel Sherlock's frown.

"No. That won't do at all." Sherlock hopped out of bed, heedless of his nudity. "You should start exercising more."

Mycroft didn't even pause as the thought of getting even fatter to force Sherlock away raced through his mind. "What if I like my body the way it is?"

"I want you to."

"I don't cater to your desires, Sherlock."

Sherlock huffed a laugh. "Oh yes, you do."

Mycroft pulled on his suit coat and reached for his brolly. "I expect you gone when I return. You need to return to Uni."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave him a glare. "Schooling is boring." A smirk. "I'll go if you give me some incentive."

"A good beating with my brolly?"

Snorting, Sherlock tilted his head. "Didn't know you were in sadism." He shrugged. "We can try it too, if you like."

"Oh for Heaven Sake! Sherlock this has gone far enough! The only reason I gave into you last night was because I was completely and utterly drunk!"

Sherlock smirked. "Yes…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Wonder how you got that way…"

Mycroft glared at him. "As if you don't know."

"It really was quite tedious of you, Mycroft. I thought you would be a lightweight."

Curiosity got the better of Mycroft. "How much?"

Moving closer to him, Sherlock grinned. "Kiss me and I'll tell."

"Nothing is worth that price."

He pouted. "Am I really that undesirable?"

Mycroft snorted. "You are an uncommonly handsome man, Sherlock, but, you are my brother. Good day." He left the room and then flat.

By the time Mycroft got back, his room was clean of anything that could prove Sherlock had ever been there. He frowned. Sherlock never cleaned up after himself. Never.

What is he up to? Mycroft frowned and decided to do a sweep of his flat. He found it quickly. A cleverly placed listening device under his desk. He sighed but didn't remove it. Instead, he quietly placed his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp, piercing whistle into it.

He smirked as he thought about Sherlock clutching his ears and cursing in pain.

With that, he crushed it. With a sigh, he slipped into the shower and cleaned himself up, washing away the guilt that still rested just under his skin.