Chapter Text
He never meant for this to turn out this way. He certainly didn’t plan for it; after all, who’s stupid enough to fall in love with their own brother-in-law? Certainly not Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes is in fact a genius, so of course he never meant to fall in love with John Watson-Holmes. If he had known exactly to whom Mike Stanford was introducing him to at the lab in St. Bart’s he wouldn’t-
But for all his impressive deductive skills, he had failed to notice that the man he was being introduced to was his brother’s husband. He had known of course that John was married and to another man, not unhappily, but not happily either. An arranged marriage, he had deduced and had assumed the husband was considerate enough for John not to mind him much. Never would he have imagined that the husband in question happened to be his own brother.
He had told himself it didn’t matter. He certainly liked John, but it meant nothing. He enjoyed having John around and he was rather useful during cases, but that was about it. He hadn’t thought himself capable of developing feelings towards the doctor, of course not! He was above that, wasn’t he?
Apparently not. Apparently, John Watson-Holmes was exactly the kind of person Sherlock could grown to love. Apparently he has been stupid enough to go and fall in love with the least ideal person in the world.
Sherlock has seen countless crimes of passion, more often than not provoked by jealousy. He always thought it was quite ridiculous, but whenever he catches a glimpse of his brother with John he begins to see the merit of such crimes. Of course he wouldn’t be as crude as most assassins and of course he would cover his tracks well enough for no one to figure out he was the murderer, but that’s beside the point.
He and John spend a lot of time together. They’re best friends and while Sherlock tries to convince himself that that’s enough, he never quite manages. Maybe he could, if John was unattainable for other reasons; but considering…
In reality, the fact that John is his brother-in-law makes things even worse. It’s one thing to be in love with a married person, it’s another one to be in love with someone who’s technically family.
The whole thing is really messed up and if Sherlock could, he would avoid thinking about it completely.
But he can’t. The thought sneaks upon him at the most random moments, always making him feel quite anxious. It’s pointless to worry; there’s nothing he can do to change things. It’s not like he can fall out of love by just wishing it and it’s not like he can persuade Mycroft to divorce John just because.
Although if he could-
He has come up with a couple of plans to make that happen, actually. But the thing is thst John isn’t actually unhappy and his brother- well, Sherlock has the impression Mycroft won’t simply comply, no matter what Sherlock promises or threatens to do. It makes sense, he thinks, because if John was his, he wouldn’t give him up no matter what either.
And the worst part is that John could have been his. He was meant to be his, in fact. If Sherlock hadn’t been so stubborn and if he had listened to Mummy’s pleas…
But it’s too late for that, he supposes. No point in crying over spilled milk and all that.
“Well, I’ll better be heading home,” John announces and Sherlock looks up, wondering how long has he been lost in his own thoughts. “It’s late and I did promise Mycroft we’d have dinner together.”
Sherlock grunts in acknowledgment. He wonders if he could get away with his brother’s murder. Well, he knows he could; there’s no way anyone would be able to link him to it, but John would probably be suspicious. And he somehow doubts that ‘because I’m in love with you’ counts as a valid reason for murder in John’s book.
Then again, who knows what counts as valid reasons for murder for John? He has shooted people to protect Sherlock before, so maybe-
“Sherlock?”
The consulting detective looks at his friend once again, being pulled out of his dark musings. John sighs, shaking his head. “I asked if you wanted me to order you something for dinner?”
Stay is what Sherlock wants to say. What he actually says is, “I’m fine. I don’t need to eat.”
John sighs again and then studies Sherlock for a long while. Finally, he smiles briefly, “I’ll see you later, then. Call me if you need something.”
“I prefer to text,” Sherlock reminds him and John snorts, waving absentmindedly, already standing at the door. “Have a nice evening John.”
“Shall I give your brother your greetings?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes. It’s an old joke between them; John will always try to fix the brothers’ strangled relationship and both Holmes will indulge him, even if deep down they both know things can’t be quite fixed between them.
‘His archenemy’ indeed.
John leaves, taking with him the feeling of warmthness that Sherlock has gotten used to. He misses his friend when he’s gone and he wishes John didn’t have to go back to Mycroft’s big and empty house. He desperately wishes John would call 221B Baker Street his home, but-
Well, no use on dwelling on that.
With a sigh, Sherlock gets up and gets ready for bed. He figures he ought to try to sleep, if only because John tells him so everytime they see each other.
With one last wistful sigh, Sherlock turns off the lights and closes his eyes.
Mycroft doesn’t even have to look at John to deduce where he’s been. His light steps and his happy whistling are tell tales enough and while he suspects he ought to feel even a little bit jealous, he doesn’t.
Theirs is an arranged marriage, after all. A marriage his mother had been insistent on; not because they really needed what the Watsons had to offer, but because Mummy couldn’t bear the thought of her children alone.
If Sherlock had scoffed at the idea, there are no words to describe what Mycroft had thought when his mother had told him about it. It had some merit though, at least on his brother’s case: Sherlock was quite difficult to handle, so it was quite possible he would never find someone who would put up with him on their own free will. It seemed logical then, to procure him with someone who couldn’t quite leave.
But of course Sherlock had vehemently refused and after seeing his mother so upset about calling off the whole affair, Mycroft had offered himself as a replacement. To this day he’s not quite sure why he offered, but he doesn’t regret it.
John is quite an exceptional man, there’s no denying that. While Mycroft had thought they would be just husbands in paper, with no real expectation of anything, John had been dead set on making it work. Of course John hadn’t wanted to get married and least of all to someone he didn’t even know, but he had agreed because his family desperately needed the money the Holmes could provide and once they were actually married, he tried to make the best out of the situation.
It had been a little unnerving, in the beginning. To have someone else living in his house, who insisted on having meals with him, who made a point of them having at least one actual conversation per day (polite greetings and goodbyes didn’t count), someone who made an effort to be interested in him and not only in his job.
Odd, unnerving, but eventually, very endearing.
So yes, John Watson-Holmes is a very exceptional man and Mycroft is not even a tiny bit surprised by the obsession his brother has developed on him.
Obsession is the wrong term, though. But the other word, the right one-
Mycroft would rather not think about that.
For all the petty fighting he gets into with his younger brother, he cares for Sherlock a great deal. It pains him to know that Sherlock is probably suffering through this whole situation, but he’s not sure if there’s anything he can do. When they were younger, everything that Sherlock wanted and Mycroft was in position to give him, he would, but-
John isn’t some toy he can hand over to his brother. John is a human being; an honorable and honest man. He might reciprocate Sherlock’s feelings to an extend, but Mycroft is his husband and he’ll honor that. If Mycroft was to simply step back to let them be… well, he knows John wouldn’t take it kindly.
Besides, he'd really rather not give up John. The doctor has become a steady and soothing presence in his life; someone he has come to care about and who he likes to have around. He can’t imagine coming back to an empty house, not anymore. John has made the place a home and without him-
Sentiment. So very distracting.
Bad enough is that he cares for his parents and his brother and now he has gone and added a husband to the mix. Of course John has earned it, even if it was by just being himself, but the thing is-
“Are you listening to me?”
Mycroft looks up from the paper he’s supposedly reading and stares at his husband. John shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “I do wonder about this whole Mind Palace thing. Seems terribly… interesting.”
Mycroft rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”
He never apologises, not really, but John has an odd effect in him. “No harm done,” the doctor replies with a shrug and a smile. “So, chinese?”
Mycroft considers it for a minute. He doesn’t feel like going out at all, so take out does sound like a great idea. However he knows that John spends far too much time locked up either in the house or at the clinic and that his only outings are with Sherlock, so-
It’s not a competition, really. No matter what Sherlock does, John won’t leave Mycroft for him. Not because the doctor doesn’t care for the younger Holmes, but because he doesn’t have a single unloyal bone in his body and so his fidelity is guaranteed. Still, Mycroft would like to ensure that staying with him is not such a sacrifice so-
“Let’s go out,” he suggests, standing up. “There’s a place I’ve been meaning to take you to.” He stands in front of his husband, who is frowning a little, but doesn’t seem adverse to the idea of an outing.
“Alright. I’ll go change, then?”
A slight smile makes his way to his lips as he leans down for a very short and chaste kiss. “Don’t take long.”
John disappears upstairs and Mycroft sighs. This whole situation is ridiculously complicated and he wishes there was a way to simplified it.
But if such thing exists, he’s not aware of it.
Dinner is a pleasant affair and not for the first time, John wonders why he feels so guilty about it.
He enjoys spending time with Mycroft. It was a little odd in the beginning and to be completely honest, not the highest point of his day, but after 3 years of marriage (and a lot of effort on John’s part), they seem to have reached a point where they actually enjoy being together.
He had entered the marriage knowing he was up for a probably very unnerving existence. He had just seen Mycroft once before the wedding, at their engagement party, and he couldn’t say it had been pleasant. He had been more than a little worried about his future husband turning out to be a serial murderer or something along those lines, considering how cold and distant he had behaved during the whole affair, no matter what John tried. That Mycroft insisted he was just a minor government employee and then proceed to threaten someone on the phone hadn’t really helped John to construct a positive image of his fiancé.
But he had married and had decided he would make it work. He hadn’t fancied the idea of being trapped not only in a loveless marriage, but in a miserable one. Loveless, he could handle. But miserable… he was miserable enough on his own, thank you very much. No need to add on that.
So he had come to enjoy his husband’s company. Why did he feel so guilty about it?
Of course he knows why. He just likes to pretend he doesn’t, because somehow admitting to himself he’s madly in love with his brother-in-law seems horribly wrong. Feels like the worse kind of betrayal, even if he knows that Mycroft probably doesn’t mind much.
If he did, he would have said something by now. Because he knows, he must know, how can he not? Mycroft is as observant as Sherlock, although he learned to hold back his tongue for the most part, unlike his younger brother. So of course he knows. But he hasn’t mentioned it and that’s- that’s-
That’s good?
Why hasn’t he? Is it because he doesn’t want to embarrass John? Or because he doesn’t want to bring attention to the fact that John would very much like to spend the nights tangled in Sherlock’s sheets, instead of on his very big but very empty bed back home? Is it a matter of pride?
Or maybe because he actually doesn’t care?
When they just married, Mycroft had been quite vocal about not expecting anything from him, including faithfulness. He had asked him to be discreet about his affairs, so not to upset Mrs. Holmes, but he had told him to feel free to sleep with whoever he wanted.
Of course John never saw fit to take advantage of that. Marriage was a compromise for him and if in this case it meant he would never ever again get sexual gratification… well, he assumed he could live with that.
So maybe Mycroft truly doesn’t mind.
But he must know that there’s nothing physical going on between him and Sherlock. They’re just friends, best friends even, but anyone can see that’s there much more beneath the surface. Anyone can tell that there’s a certain tension between them that regular friends don’t have. They have never crossed that line, though. Because John wouldn’t allow himself to be untrue and because Sherlock probably doesn’t know how to broach the subject (John is fairly certain that there’s no moral reason holding Sherlock back, although who knows what goes inside that brilliant brain of his?)
“You’re very quiet tonight,” Mycroft comments, taking a sip from his wine glass and John’s attention snaps back to his husband.
“Sorry about that,” the doctor says, with a small smile. “I was lost in my thoughts.”
Mycroft hums and John knows he knows exactly what he was thinking about. Mercifully, he doesn’t comment and just carries on eating, leaving John to his dark musings.
He’s more than a little loss about what to do. He knows that as long as he stays married nothing will ever change; he’ll be forever trapped in this- well, whatever this is. But it’s not like he just can ask for a divorce, not only because of the economic implications it could have on his family, but because-
Well, the truth is he has come to care about his husband. And it feels wrong to just leave him because he happened to meet someone else. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, isn’t it? You just don’t walk away from it; not without a good reason.
He sighs, taking a sip from his own glass. Mycroft smiles at him a little bit ruefully from the other side of the table, making something flutter in John’s stomach. That’s another confusing thing, he supposes, the way he sometimes reacts to his husband.
“Should we go?” Mycroft asks, his tone dropping down an octave and sending shivers down John’s spine.
There’s something seriously messed up with him, he thinks darkly.
“Of course.”
Mycroft pays for the dinner and John shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He still feels guilty, but he doesn’t know exactly about what. Does he feel guilty for having enjoyed dinner with his husband and then started to obsessively think about his brother-in-law? Or does he feel guilty for having been thinking about his brother-in-law while enjoying dinner with his husband?
Is this being unfaithful? To whom?
It’s all very confusing.
“Ready to go?”
John nods and follows.