Hey everyone, I've been reading in the Sherlock fandom recently and just felt like writing something. If you read my other stuff don't worry, I'm still working on those as well, life is just really busy. I hope you're all doing well out there, and enjoy
Chapter 1
John had to grit his teeth to keep from making a snarky comment as Sherlock let out another loud sigh from the seat beside him.
"Let's just go to a hotel" Sherlock grumbled, "or better yet, we could sleep in the park."
"Firstly, we can't bloody afford a hotel and secondly, I am not sleeping in the park! If that's what you want to do, no one's stopping you" John growled. Only for Sherlock to mumble something about 'experiments… not good and park.'
John had to hold back his snort, of course that's what he would be worried about.
"We wouldn't even have to be leaving our apartment if you hadn't set fire to the place during one of your experiments!"
"I hardly need reminding, John" Sherlock sniffed.
"Well then stop complaining. Mycroft very kindly offered to put us up until the apartment is fixed, on his dime mind you, the least you can be is polite… and quiet."
Sherlock gave him an offended look before turning to look out the window of the cab they were in.
Earlier that day, John had arrived home to find their apartment on fire due to one of Sherlocks many experiments. He had tried to put it out, but it had been too far gone. Sherlock still maintained that he had had everything under control, even as flames licked up the walls of their kitchen. John had only had enough time to grab a few things and Sherlock, before racing out of the building.
Thankfully, the fire brigade had arrived and had gotten the blaze under control before it had spread outside of their apartment. Predictably, Mycroft had shown up almost immediately, fussing over Sherlock before offering to have them stay with him while the apartment was being repaired. He had even offered to have Mrs Hudson come and stay but she had declined, preferring to remain in her own apartment.
So, John felt he could be excused for not showing adequate sympathy to Sherlocks theatrics when they were only in this predicament because of him. Not that John particularly minded. If he was being honest with himself, he was rather looking forward to staying with Mycroft. The older Holmes brother had captured his attention from their very first meeting, though he tried to keep his interactions with the older man completely neutral so as not to give anything away to the amazingly perceptive Holmes brothers. He quickly turned to look out the window in case Sherlock should pick up on a twitch of his eyebrow that would give him away. But his thoughts swiftly strayed back to Mycroft, as they so often did. He allowed himself a few moments to daydream, thinking of the way Mycroft towers over him, how that brilliant mind leaves him near speechless every time they meet.
The cab pulled up out the front of a high brick wall, roses lining its base. He couldn't even see the house as he climbed out of the back seat and pulled his few possessions out of the boot. Sherlock stood beside him as they came to stop in front of a large non-descript gate. John raised his eyebrow at Sherlock and with a huff the younger man entered a code into a small panel to the side of the gate. It swung open and John found himself face to face with Anthea, who glanced up from her phone for a moment, "follow me. He's been detained at work but asked me to show you around."
"I know my way around" Sherlock grumbled.
"But John does not, and he did not hold faith in your ability to be a good host."
John didn't bother to hold back his snort this time. Mycroft knew his brother well.
"I will be in my room" Sherlock said, and with a swish of his coat he vanished inside the house.
John however took a moment to admire the place, a simply gorgeous two-story Georgian style home with vines working their way up the brickwork. A soft look washed over John's face; it was exactly the kind of place he would expect Mycroft Holmes to live.
A throat clearing jolted him from his thoughts and he looked down to find Anthea watching him rather impatiently. He hurried to catch up, shooting her a sheepish look as she closed the dark green door behind him.
The inside of the home was just as beautiful as the outside. It was warmer than John had been expecting, soft creams and browns everywhere and an overall feeling of welcoming comfort. He kicked his shoes off, moving them to the side as he followed Anthea.
"This is the kitchen; Mycroft has ensured that it has been filled should you wish to cook anything." John smiled, it was strange looking around a kitchen that wasn't overflowing with body parts and experiments. "Dining room…lounge… his private study… bathroom… Sherlocks laboratory."
Johns' eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the large room. It looked like the walls were lined with reinforced steel, benches were bolted to the floor and the ceiling was lined with sprinklers and air vents. John could see cupboards lining one wall and he knew they would be filled with all the best equipment. Why on earth was all this going to waste?
"Why would Sherlock have a lab in Mycroft's home" John wondered aloud, he didn't expect a response from Anthea, and he didn't get one.
They continued their tour, going upstairs to find a long softly carpeted hall.
"Guest room… Sherlocks room… bathroom… library… your room and his room."
"My room?"
"Yes, your room."
Anthea started walking away as John was opening the door.
"He is expecting to be home sometime this evening."
John nodded in thanks, already turning to look at what Anthea had said was his room. The kind gesture was not lost on him. The room was just as beautiful and elegant as the rest of the home, it had a warm and comforting feel that automatically put John at ease. A large comfortable looking bed took up a large portion of the room, a beautiful bunch of flowers adorning the bedside table. He walked through a door to find a walk-in wardrobe ladened with clothes. Not suits but collared shirts and fluffy wool jumpers. He pulled open draws finding jeans and slacks inside. Another drawer had a variety of cotton pyjamas. John felt himself blush as he pulled open another to find it full of underwear and socks.
His throat felt tight, and his eyes started to burn, Mycroft must've organised all this for him. It made him feel exponentially better that he at least had something to wear. He ran his hands over the soft jumpers, they were obviously of a much better quality than John usually bought but they were still exactly to his tastes.
Well, since he had clean clothes, he figured a nice hot shower was in order after the day he'd had. He thought it was probably too early to put on his pyjamas, so he pulled out a pair of warm looking pants and a jumper, as well as clean underwear and socks and headed to the bathroom.
Thankfully the bathroom was as well stocked as the rest of the house. Expensive looking shampoo, conditioner and soaps lined the shower. A quick look under the sink uncovered new, unopened toothbrushes, toothpaste, moisturiser and shaving gear. He had to chuckle at Mycroft's preparedness.
A hot shower and clean, warm clothes left John feeling quite content, all things considered.
He wandered down the hall to Sherlock's room, knocking quietly. When no response was forth coming John decided to just leave him be, instead, making his way to the kitchen and starting to rummage through the fridge and cupboards.
He pulled out some ground beef, veggies and potatoes, deciding to whip up a shepherd's pie for dinner. He decided to make enough to feed three even though he knew there was a very good chance that neither Sherlock nor Mycroft would be joining him. He supposed he could easily eat the leftovers tomorrow if they didn't.
He got to work, humming to himself as he chopped up the vegetables. A noise behind him alerting him to Sherlock's arrival.
"You don't need to cook; I'm sure Mycroft would be happy to get food delivered."
John shrugged "I like cooking."
Even with his back to him, John could tell that Sherlock was rolling his eyes.
Mycroft wasn't home by the time dinner was ready, but John still served him up a plate, carefully wrapping it in cling wrap before placing it in the fridge with a note. As predicted Sherlock had wandered off again, declining any food, so John sat alone at the dining table, savouring the flavours and revelling in the fact that he had somewhere to sleep tonight after the events of the day.
He felt exhaustion wash over him as he cleaned up, deciding that even though it was still quite early it was time for bed.
It took him surprisingly little time to nod off once he had crawled into the overly large bed that night.
"We will not be staying long."
Mycroft sighed as he took off his coat and sat his umbrella in its stand, only then did he turn to face his younger brother.
"You are both welcome to stay as long as you wish."
"I wouldn't even be here if John hadn't insisted."
"Of that I am well aware" Mycroft replied.
They stared at each other for a moment before Sherlock turned with a swish of his thankfully unburned coat and retreated back to his room. Mycroft allowed himself the luxury of running his hands through his hair tiredly. It had been a long day. He wandered into the kitchen, contemplating a cup of tea to help relax him before bed. He made a mental note to ensure that all of Johns favourite teas be delivered tomorrow. He had organised as much as he could in the short time since he had been informed of the fire at 221b Baker Street but there were still things that needed to be prepared.
He opened the fridge and paused at the plate of shepherd's pie sitting neatly on the top shelf, a small note sitting on top simply said, "Mycroft."
His heart thumped rapidly in his chest, it didn't take a genius to work out that John had cooked dinner and set aside a plate for him. He couldn't remember the last time such a thing had happened; it was definitely some time before he'd moved out of home.
He had had a business dinner so had already eaten but he couldn't fight the smile that graced his face at the kind gesture. Thankfully, Sherlock had already gone to his room, or he would have teased him to no end.
In the end he decided against the cup of tea, instead heading straight up to bed. He passed Sherlocks room and paused outside Johns for just a moment, listening, but it was obvious that the Dr had already retired for the evening. It was late after all. He would have to thank John in the morning.
John walked into the kitchen the next morning still wearing his pyjamas and looking adorably sleep ruffled. Mycroft felt his heart seize in his chest at the sight. How many times had he imagined waking up to John in his home, having breakfast together before they both went about their day? He kept his expression neutral, though it looked like John was barely aware of his surroundings.
"Tea?" Mycroft murmured, but John still jumped, a large yawn escaping his mouth.
Mycroft frowned, "perhaps you should go back to bed? Yesterday must have been particularly trying for you."
"He's always like this in the morning" Sherlock snipped as he walked into the kitchen, already fully dressed and looking like he'd barely slept.
Mycroft put his hand on Johns lower back and steered him gently into the lounge room, ignoring the way Sherlocks eyes followed him as he did so. He deposited the younger man onto a soft lounge and handed him the TV remote. "I'll make you some tea."
Sherlock watched him suspiciously as he made up a pot of tea and placed several cups, milk and sugar along side it on a serving tray and went back into the lounge room.
John seemed to revive after his first cup of tea, smiling appreciatively at Mycroft.
"Thank you, Mycroft" John said softly. "For everything, you have a beautiful home."
Mycroft felt his lip twitch up and fought to control the reaction.
"Thank you for dinner last night, John. I had already eaten but the thought was appreciated."
John's smile turned soft, "maybe you could take it in for your lunch today?"
Mycroft didn't have the heart to tell him that he usually just had nothing, or perhaps a salad that Anthea picked up for him.
"A wonderful idea, I will do just that."
"Be careful, Mycroft, you wouldn't want to upset your diet" Sherlock said with a smirk, as his eyes flicked between the pair. Mycroft felt his cheeks pink a bit; it was true that he could be quite careful about what he ate.
"Oh, be quiet, Sherlock" John said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "Mycroft does not need to diet, he's lovely, just the way he is." John's own cheeks turned pink at the statement, but he kept his head held high.
Mycroft sat in shock, one of the few times in his life he was completely surprised. Though he supposed that he shouldn't be, John loved coming to people's defence. Sherlock made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a retching noise that had Mycroft turning to stare at him.
"Breakfast?" John said before scurrying out of the room, leaving Mycroft alone to contemplate his brother.
"Yes?" Mycroft said, raising an eyebrow at the look of abject horror on his brother's face.
"You like him" Sherlock accused, and Mycroft did his best to keep his expression passive.
"Of course, I do, brother, I wouldn't invite someone I don't like to come and stay with me."
Sherlock rolled his eyes so hard Mycroft was surprised it didn't hurt. "Don't try to play dumb with me, it won't work. You have feelings for John."
Mycroft cast a nervous glance towards the kitchen, he knew it was a lost cause to try to play innocent with Sherlock.
"So, what if I do?"
"Make your move already, he clearly returns your sentiment, god only knows why."
"I think all the smoke you inhaled yesterday has impaired your thinking, brother, John sees me as nothing more then your older brother. An acquaintance, perhaps a friend" he mused.
Sherlock furrowed his brows as he surveyed his brother carefully.
"So, what, you thought you would bring him here and seduce him with your money and power?"
For the first time that morning Mycroft looked annoyed. "I merely wanted to take care of John, provide for him, as you are clearly incapable of doing so."
Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but stopped at the sound of John approaching.
"I'm sorry John, but I really must be going" Mycroft said as he stood from his chair, eyeing the plate piled high with toast that John was carrying.
John's face dropped slightly in disappointment, "of course, I'm sure you have a lot to do. Here let me just grab your lunch."
Mycroft could hear John rummaging around in his kitchen before he came hurrying back out, tupperware container in hand.
Mycroft took the container with a nod before picking up his umbrella and heading out the door. Anthea was already waiting for him; he purposefully did not look back as he walked away.
John watched Mycroft walk away, his face slightly wistful. Sherlock had to bite his tongue to stop from making some comment that John would no doubt construe as being insensitive. He'd been aware of John's feelings for his brother for a while, even if he couldn't understand how anyone could be interested in Mycroft. Sure, the Dr had tried to be discreet but the attempts at being subtle had been laughable. He had been more surprised to realise this morning that the sentiment was returned by his brother. He hadn't had much opportunity to observe the pair together and Mycroft had obviously been careful to not give anything away but seeing them this morning had made everything abundantly clear.
Poor John didn't even seem to realise that they had been invited to stay with Mycroft not for his sake but for Johns.
"I need to go" Sherlock said shortly.
John started in surprise; a piece of toast frozen halfway to his mouth.
"What?" John said as Sherlock stood up. "Where are you going? I can come too if you like?"
Sherlock was already striding out of the room, so he didn't even try to fight the small smile that broke out on his face at the words. Wonderful, loyal, John.
"No, that won't be necessary."
Sherlock was out the door and striding down the path before John could offer anymore protests. He would make himself scarce for a few days, see if that helped John and Mycroft find their way to each other. Though he was loathed to admit it John could do a lot worse than Mycroft and if they did end up getting together at least he didn't have to worry about someone taking his doctor away.