Work Text:
He hates how sometimes he feels: lonely, abandoned, craving for any sign of affection. He hates it because he remembers he needs someone, anyone beside(s) himself - that he’s human and he has these silly, unfulling cravings. He used to think he would never need someone, that he would grow out of being Sherlock's big brother, but he didn't. He misses being Sherlock's big brother when all Sherlock seems to do is push him away and act like Mycroft was crazy for wanting anything from him, wanted to be his brother again. So he cries when Sherlock is vulnerable enough to let him in, to take him inside his arms. They cry on each other's chest on the shower floor as if their relationship was always like that. Looking from outside, and from the future, he may think it was depressing and humiliating of him-them both to act like this. Right now, he just can grasp harder at Sherlock's jacket.