Chapter Text
He hadn't been snooping per se more of looking for an insight into his little brother's life, his method of doing so is going through his stuff.
He looked through all the cleché hiding spots and found nothing (not that he had expected to, Sherlock is smarter than that).
He looked under the mattress and found nothing, he looked in old shoe boxes and found nothing, then he decided to check Sherlock's impressive bookcase (which wasn't as big as his but still large).
He pulled out books and looked behind and between them and still found nothing until by chance
he knocked over a few books and one of them flew open to reveal it had been hollowed out and inside was a brown leather journal.
Jackpot! He opened it and read the first page.
If you are reading this and you are not me then stop right now and mind your own bloody business. If your name is Mycroft and you're reading this fuck off.
He flipped to the next page.
I'm serious. Mind your own business.
His brother could be so dramatic. He flipped over the warnings which went on several pages and started to read the first entry which had the date at the top of the page. It was dated Sherlock's first day of high school.
I guess I'm starting a diary now. Never mind that sounds incredibly stupid, I'm deleting that. I'm starting a journal. That sounds less stupid. Today was my first day of high school and it was total shit. I hate everyone there. They're all even more stupid than I imagined. Except maybe this one boy named John. After some dumb ass holes pushed me over (probably trying to impress their equally dumb friends) John helped me up and introduced himself. I think he's one of the jocks but he was at least not an outright ass hole. Anyway, I definitely don't want to go back to school tomorrow but if I skip Mycroft will probably find out and make me go back.
He went on to complain about him and something he had done that day.
It was interesting reading his diary. He wondered how much trust Sherlock had actually put into the book and was curious to find out more about whatever Sherlock had to say.
He flipped through the next few pages. Most of them were Sherlock complaining about him being an annoying older brother or school. The only slightly positive thing that seemed to come up relatively often was the boy John.
Sherlock always wrote down his interaction with the boy. Even wrote down things he saw John do and how he didn't like any of his girlfriends which John seemed to go through quite fast. It sounded almost stalker-like the way he wrote about him.
He read a much more recent entry that was titled, John Watson.
I think I have a crush on John Watson. I thought romantic feelings and the like were below me but apparently not. I love everything about him. He's kind and gorgeous and he's the kind of boy that stops on the sidewalk to help worms get across (I've seen him do it before), he holds the door open for the teachers and he stands up for people. I saw him help a baby bird that fell out of its nest get back to it's siblings and mother (the bird is fine now). He is the only one in that hell hole of a school that doesn't call me a freak. Mycroft says caring is not an advantage but I can't help caring about John. It's stupid, my feelings that is.
He suddenly felt bad for what he had said to Sherlock about caring. He still stood by what he had said but it was obvious that he was smitten with this Watson boy. He'd have to find some background on him. He didn't want his little brother to get hurt.
Just then Sherlock opened the door. With a quick scan of the room, Sherlock saw what he had been doing and then saw the book in his hands.
"MYCROFT!" Sherlock yelled.
"Wait, I can explain." He said although he couldn't.
"Get out of my room! Don't touch my shit again!" He said snatching the book away from him.
He walked himself out but turned at the doorway to face his fuming brother "How's John doing?" He asked smirking.
He was answered by Sherlock slamming the door in his face.