John
Before I could ask Sherlock to go into more depth the intercom buzzed. Sherlock leapt across to it and pressed the button in one smooth motion. He was awkward and graceful at the same time like a baby giraffe, "Yes?" He said.
A crackly version of Mycroft's voice replied, "I've brought you the suit."
"Ah, brother dear! Come on up!" Sherlock said in a caricature of eagerness.
A few moments later there was a sharp rap on our door.
Sherlock had folded himself up into his armchair and showed of no sign of moving so I crossed the room and opened the door myself.
"John, I'm sorry for your loss," Said Mycroft, somehow discarding his coat, hat and stick next to the door, negotiating himself and a suit bag into room and never breaking eye contact with me and he squeezed my shoulder sympathetically.
"Oh, thanks." I said limply.
Mycroft took a seat on the sofa and I returned to my armchair.
Sherlock got up and snatched the suit bag off Mycroft.
"There's gratitude for you!" Mycroft sighed as Sherlock took the bag to his room without saying anything.
I raised my eyebrows at Mycroft, embarrassed for Sherlock's behaviour.
"Although it's only because he's feeling bashful, bless him! His nickname's going to have to be changed now…" Mycroft announced patronisingly.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"He's deduced that I've deduced that he's lost his virginity. To you." Mycroft smiled pleasantly at me as if he'd just remarked on the weather, "Haven't you Shirley?" He called.
Sherlock re-entered the room still managing to look proud with a bright pink blush spread across his cheeks that I could feel my own face mimicking, "Yes. Don't call me that."
If I felt inadequate around Sherlock I felt utterly depleted when he, Mycroft and I were all together. I sat in my chair trying to be cheerful and not think about Harry's imminent funeral while Sherlock and Mycroft tried to out-deduce each other but I inevitably lost the train of conversation until Mycroft said, "John?" and I realised we'd gone back to the subject of sex.
"Hmm?" I said, shaking my head to rid myself of the image of Harry's broken body.
"I was just saying that I think it's very sweet that you and Sherlock are together," Mycroft explained with his usually annoying air of superiority, "I mean now people can stop talking about you behind your backs, Moriarty can tease you about something that actually exists and Sherlock can shag you when he's bored instead of drinking embalming fluid and ingesting all manner of carcinogens!"
"I've never drunk embalming fluid." Sherlock said shortly.
I didn't say anything but a prickling of embarrassment was crawling up my neck onto my face.