John's always wanted a brother.
And sometimes
S o m e t i m e s
John thinks of Sherlock as his younger brother.
Is that why John disagreed to being his date?
Eh, one could think.
Is that why John felt the need to protect the younger man?
Eh, maybe.
Is that why John felt automatically inclined to befriend this younger man?
Eh, who knows?
Is that why John giggled the first time he and Sherlock kissed?
Of course it was.
Usually, as in always, Sherlock likes to hear John giggle -especially at crime scenes- but that giggle made him cringe so hard he wanted to cry.
"I am hardly your brother!"
"That's not what I mean, I mean if I ever had a brother I'd want him to be like you!"
"What? Desirable? Sexy? Yearning with want of your body so badly it physically and mentally hurts?"
"No, no! I mean smart, brilliant, someone who gets me!"
"Oh, John…" Sherlock stormed into his room and slammed the door.
They didn't talk for four days after that, and they didn't kiss again for twenty-seven days after that. John wanted to, he tried, but each time he got close enough to smell Sherlock, he'd giggle. And Sherlock would get angry.
Finally, at the end of those twenty-seven days, Sherlock pushed John into the wall and before John could so much as think about giggling, Sherlock's tongue was on him, in him, caressing and tasting and examining and taking data.
Sherlock broke away and whispered, "Would your brother do that?"
"Oh god," John sighed.
Sherlock's hands ran all over John's body. "Would your brother do this?" he lifted John's shirt off and licked down his chest.
"Sh-Sherlock," John panted.
"Never say that again. You giggle one more time, I bite your tongue off. Now shut up and pay attention." Sherlock dropped to his knees, pulling Johns' pajama pants down with him.