"Sherlock! Dinner's ready!"
Sherlock looked up from his phone and sighed. Although he had enjoyed spending the last 4 days with his mum, he doesn't like to deal with dinners.
Christmas dinners, to be specific.
Nothing ever goes right when he's invited to family gatherings. It always ends up with someone crying, someone going to the hospital, or a few broken bones here and there.
He stood up and looked down at the suit his mum had forced him to wear. It wasn't really his style, and he didn't really like the navy blue color, but he wore it anyway to please his mum. Sherlock would do anything for his mum.
He may come off as rude and a bit annoying to most people, but with his mum he tried his best to be nice. His mum's health deteriorated over the past few years and she's been in and out of hospitals, so Sherlock always did his best to cheer her up.
Mycroft, however, was just...Mycroft. Arrogant, rude, insolent and discourteous. But with his mum, he always acted his best.
That tells you a lot about the Holmes boys.
"Sherlock! Dinner's ready, mum's been calling you for the past ten minutes!" Mycroft yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and yelled back. "I said I'm coming!"
He jumped from his seat and walked down the stairs, entering the dining room. His mum looked up when he entered and she smiled warmly up at him.
"There you are!" she said, leading Sherlock to an empty seat at the dining table. "The dinner was starting to get cold."
Sherlock sat down opposite Mycroft, and looked at the dinner mum had prepared. Nothing spectacular; chicken, potatoes, salad and lasagna. But he was hungry (for once) and any food sounded good to him.
The three of them sat around the table and mum held out her hands for the boys to hold. When neither of them held it, she frowned.
"Come on boys, we have to say grace."
Mycroft scoffed and Sherlock rolled his eyes, but like good boys, they held their mum's hands. She said a quick prayer and asked God to bless her household and the dinner she had prepared. When she was done, she looked up with twinkling eyes and smiled. "Let's eat."
Soon, the clinking of knives and forks against plates filled the room. They ate in comfortable silence before Mycroft cleared his throat and looked at Sherlock.
"Mum, I do believe Sherlock has something to say to us," he began, smirking.
Sherlock paled and stared daggers at his brother. "Mycroft, if one more word comes out of your mouth, the next place you'll wake up will be in hospital."
Mum tsked. "Now Sherlock, what did I saw about making death threats? You let your brother finish what he was saying."
"Thank you mother dear," Mycroft's smirk grew wider. "Sherlock and I had a very interesting conversation on the way home today, and he mentioned something that I think you should hear."
"Oh? Do tell, Sherlock. What was it you wanted to tell me?"
Sherlock paled even more and began to sweat. He wasn't ready for this; in fact, he never believed he would ever be ready for this. Coming out to your parents is a very hard thing, and things could either go right or wrong. He doesn't know how his mum will react; she could either be okay with it or do something overly dramatic like disowning him.
He was in his first year of uni, and being disowned would probably be the worst thing that could happen to him at this time. Sherlock wanted to wait until he was done with uni to tell his mum, but it seemed like he would have to make some changes on that plan.
"Um...I don't think I'm ready to tell you this mum, could this wait after dinner?" he tried to stall things a little.
"Sherlock, you're making me worried. Is there a problem at school? Have you gotten into another fight, are you having trouble with friends?"
"Not exactly. Mum...I've known this for a very long time now but I was never ready to tell you," Sherlock began.
Mycroft sat back in his seat, holding a glass of wine in one hand, clearly enjoying this. He seemed to be basking in Sherlock's obvious discomfort and nervousness.
"Okay. I'll just say it quickly." he took a deep breath. "Mum, I'm gay."
Sherlock held his breath and waited for his mum's reaction.
Mum cut another piece of chicken and dropped it onto Sherlock's plate. She seemed unaffected by what he had just confessed.
"Mum?" Sherlock asked worriedly.
"Oh Sherlock," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine. "I'm not blind, or daft for that matter. Of course you're gay, I've always known."
It was Mycroft's turn to look surprised. He choked on his glass of wine and stared disbelievingly at his mum. "What?"
"I've always known Sherlock preferred men over women." mum repeated. "Come on now Mycroft, you're not an idiot, it's quite visible!"
Sherlock picked at his nails nervously. "So...are you okay with it?"
Mum scoffed and kissed the top of his head. "Of course I am, Lockie. Who you prefer in your bed does not bother me at all."
He flushed but sighed inwardly, relieved he had this off his back. "How long have you known?" he asked.
Mum smiled. "You never seemed the type to go after girls. I remember once, when Mycroft was 15, he and some of his friends brought home this very dirty magazine full of women—"
Mycroft blushed. "You must be mistaken, mum."
"Oh no, I remember quite well, Mycroft. Now, where was I? Oh yes, he brought home this magazine—even today I wonder where he got it—and spent hours upstairs looking at it with his friends."
Mycroft's face grew redder and he chucked his glass of wine, and poured himself another glass. Sherlock smirked and filed away this little piece of information mum had just given him about Mycroft in his mind.
"Then, he hid it under his bed and left. Now Sherlock observed the whole thing and when everyone left, he went to take a look at it. After opening the magazine and flipping through it for a while, he threw it back under the bed in disgust. Sherlock was just beginning to be a teenager and he should have been curious and interested in girls, but he never gave that dirty magazine another look."
Mum paused and looked distant for a while. "I remember instead of lusting after that pretty girl—what was her name again? Irene, I think. Instead of lusting after her like Mycroft and every other boy did, you seemed pretty interested in the neighbor's son. Oh I remember the lad! Handsome little thing he was." mum said.
"That's all?" Sherlock asked.
Mum smiled again and shook her head. "Sherlock, I'm your mother; I know many things. I just have feelings about stuff sometimes, and this I was pretty sure of."
Sherlock nodded and felt relaxed. "Okay."
"And Mycroft, that was a bit rude of you. Sherlock would have told me when he felt ready,"
Mycroft sighed and held the bridge of his nose. "Yes, mum."
"Now, who wants some cake?"
After dinner and a few exchange of gifts, the Holmes family retreated to their respective rooms. It was a quick and simple Christmas dinner—much more simple than other dinners that occurred in the Holmes residence.
Sherlock walked into his room and found Mycroft on his bed.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, crossing his arms.
Mycroft looked at his brother and sighed. "We need to talk, Sherlock. Have a seat."
Sherlock scowled but sat down anyway.
"Now, Sherlock. I know dad isn't here and I should have done this a long time ago, when you were a bit younger. Nonetheless, I'll do it now. We have to have The Talk."
Sherlock snorted. "No we don't."
"Yes, we do. You're almost 18—far too old for this but I'll have to do it anyway. I'm taking the role of dad here."
"Mycroft, I know everything already. And you don't have to worry," Sherlock paused and laughed. "I'm not getting anyone pregnant."
"Of course not. Right. Okay." Mycroft looked a little dazed. "Use protection."
Sherlock flushed. "I don't have a...boyfriend, Mycroft."
"Hmm...but you like someone, I can tell."
"N—no I don't," Sherlock looked away.
Mycroft squinted his eyes. "I may be a tad bit drunk Sherlock but I am not stupid. You have this new feeling around you. Are you sure you're not seeing anyone?"
"Yes."
He hummed. "I'll find out anyway. Good night, Sherlock."
The elder Holmes brother stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Sherlock by himself.
"Goodnight."
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