Accidentally fell asleep instead of uploading this yesterday Ooops :).
As i said right back at the start i really love the stories where Sherlock and John know each other pre-A study in Pink and everyone freaks out meating John this story was added to a community a while back which has a lot of those types of stories in it, should you love them like me the community is at community/Johnlock-before-Afghanistan/113345/
I feel like the theme of childhood games has come up a lot in Sherlock, and i rather like that idea so here we are.
When Lestrade emerged from 221B's bathroom, he blinked as he took in the new positions of the men left within the flat's living room. Mrs Hudson had left sometime between Greg's first and second beer, extracting a promise from John that he would say goodbye properly before leaving the day after tomorrow.
The remaining four had lapsed further into the realms of the relaxed, friendly and tipsy. Still, things had apparently changed during his short bathroom break. Both of the Holmes brothers had now relocated to positions on the floor, Sherlock lent back against John's legs who was still sat in his armchair. Mycroft was braced against the couch; for the moment however the man was bent over something Lestrade couldn't see from his position in the room's doorway.
Greg attempted to gain eye contact with either John or Sherlock but both were too focused on whatever was on the floor to have even noticed his entrance, let alone answer his non-verbal questions.
Shrugging internally, Greg advanced into the room, "never thought-"
Mycroft's muscles tensed reflexively, and Greg jumped as a shrill buzzer rang out from the ground. "Oh bugger," Mycroft enounced from his seated position on the carpet.
Leaning to the side, Lestrade was finally able to see what held everyone so captivated. Greg blinked again "never thought I'd see Mycroft Holmes sat on the ground swearing and playing operation," he finished his earlier statement.
Rocking his head back towards Greg, John grinned jovially up at the DI. "Don't underestimate how far they'll go to indulge their sibling rivalry. Challenge them for the win Greg?"
"Wouldn't you be better at that then me?" Greg wondered eyebrow raised.
"NO!" Both Holmes brothers exclaimed, earnestly enough that Greg froze on his way to sit on the sofa behind Mycroft.
"What?" Greg asked slightly alarmed.
Without removing his gaze from the board, where he was trying to retrieve the funny bone, Sherlock explained, "John's banned."
"What seriously?" Greg questioned, looking at John who just rolled his eyes in answer.
"He has unrivalled training and experience which weighs the game explicitly in his favour." Mycroft chimed in, although he too didn't move his eyes from the game.
Greg shared a crafty grin with John as he settled onto the sofa. "So translation, John kicks both of your arses at operation so you don't let him play anymore."
Neither Holmes deigned to look up to acknowledge his comment but John winked at him over their heads. Greg did manage to divert one of the brother's attention somewhat when his leg accidently brushed against Mycroft's back. The DI was pleased to note, that despite the sudden tension that shot through the man's body, the politician made no move to pull away from the contact.
Distracted, Greg missed it as Sherlock successfully removed his puzzle piece. He did hear Sherlock's celebratory shout, and turned to see John's subsequent squeeze of congratulations to the man's shoulder. The one thing he definitely caught was the smug smirk Sherlock sent at his brother.
The game progressed fairly quickly, both of the Holmes brothers wasting no time in obtaining the game pieces; John squeezing Sherlock's shoulder for every successfully captured 'body part'. For some time the game advanced without mistakes from either sibling. Inevitably one of them had to slip up, and soon Sherlock was glaring at the board as the wishbone slipped from his grasp.
This prompted John to bend down and press a kiss to the man's head, whispering something in Sherlock's ear as he withdrew. Immediately tension Greg hadn't realised was present visibly leaked out of Sherlock's body, as he refocused on the game.
Say what you will about the Holmes brothers, they both had a flair for the dramatic; a flair that extended to childhood pastimes apparently. By the end of the game, the siblings were practically drawing even, and Greg had been thoroughly pulled into the game, on Mycroft's side as much as John was on Sherlock's.
The final Objective was the dreaded rubber band challenge. If Mycroft could re-attach it first go he would be the victor. The atmosphere was tenser than any child's game should rightfully produce. Inwardly chuckling, Greg realised he was sat on the edge of his seat, as Mycroft stretched the rubber band around the two points. Greg legitimately jumped in surprise as the elastic slipped from Mycroft's control, snapping his hand back, setting the buzzer blaring. The DI was not the only one to flinch at the sudden loud sound, both of the Holmes' also started. Only John appeared unaffected. Privately Greg began constructing a new theory where John was a ninja, SAS or MI6, possibly all three. There was no other way a man could remain as cool and collected in the face of the Holmes' antics.
"Well fuck," Mycroft deadpanned, the crass words rolling surprisingly naturally off of the posh man's tongue.
Flashing Mycroft a smirk for his language, Greg almost missed John leaning forward to lightly squeeze his husband's shoulders. Watching the couple from the corner of his eye, Greg saw John's head tip forward as he whispered into Sherlock's ear. Whatever John said caused the consultants lips to quirk in what Greg had now determined to be a Sherlock patented half grin. An equally fond half grin appeared on Greg's own lips as the doctor pressed a light kiss to Sherlock's temple, prompting the other man to sway into him slightly.
Leaning forward once more Sherlock took the tweezers from his brother, before slowly attempting to succeed where the other man had failed. Several tense moments later Sherlock had successfully installed the rubber band in place. Carefully withdrawing the tweezers, Sherlock immediately turned a smug grin on his brother. "Too much like legwork, brother mine?" he questioned with a smirk, "you never did have the nerve for it."
"At least I did not win the game by but a sliver of my teeth despite making it a point to train my fine motor skills from a young age," Mycroft rebuffed pompously.
Over Sherlock's head John rolled his eyes at the brother's behaviour. "Not that it matter's," he said, neatly cutting over Sherlock who had opened his mouth, presumably about to let loose a sharp retort of his own "because I would have kicked both your arses." John quickly stalled any replies to that statement by looping his arms around Sherlock's chest and pulling him back into the space between his legs. "Congratulations on your win though love," he smiled, using one hand to turn the man's head and press a kiss to his lips.
Although John had clearly meant for the kiss to be fairly chaste, Sherlock snuck a hand up into his partner's hair and used it to keep him in the slightly awkward backwards kiss. Given that John didn't attempt to pull away, Greg figured he was not adverse to his husband's actions. Allowing the couple their moment, Greg looked away meeting Mycroft's eyes as he too averted his gaze, a slight smile on both faces as a result of the couples behaviour.
Greg figured Mycroft and he would leave the lovers to their activities at this point. To Greg's surprise however, when the two eventually separated nobody made a move to leave. Another game was started, and another after that. Much to Greg's amusement some required Sherlock to intercede, a long suffering look on his face, and manhandle his spouse into a hug for John himself had become too involved in the games.
When Greg did eventually leave it was with a drunken hug from John, a vaguely tipsy smile from Sherlock and a most treasured box of leftovers; containing no less than two slices of the famed banoffee pie.
Climbing a little unsteadily into Mycroft's car Lestrade was happier than he could remember being for many months. He found himself pleasantly suffused with warmth that he had seemingly been accepted into this unique little family. Before he could relax into his seat fully however, the memory of why this night had come about floated back into his head as John's words from the pub came back to him. The happy wave receded somewhat an expression of horror, no doubt, overtaking his face. Across from him Mycroft met his gaze with a mutual look of grim understanding. What would become of this unique family if something happened to John?