A collection of Johnlock oneshots

Dangerous experiment

It was 9am, quite late, Mycroft thought. He was on his way to 221b to talk to his brother about a certain matter that required his immediate attention. Of course Sherlock and John would be awake by now.

Stepping out of the sleek black car driven by Max today, he picked the lock to the front door, bending down in his pristine pinstripe greg suit and crept up the creaky wooden stairs.

He could hear noises coming from their kitchen so evidently they were up and out of bed.

Using the back of his knuckles, Mycroft softly rapped on the thin door. There was a sudden scuttle from the other side and he heard the two men frantically whisper in their hushed tones.

"Nows not a good time Mrs Hudson, Sherlock's doing a, um, dangerous experime-oof!" John spoke quickly followed by an urgent whisper of "Stop!" and a chuckle in Sherlocks deep voice.

By now Mycroft had obviously guessed what was going on. He smirked to himself, it was only a matter of time, he thought.

"Actually Dr Watson, it's not Mrs Hudson." The smirk remained on his face as there was a slightly louder mutter of "Oh fuck, quick, get off me." From Sherlock which he was clearly not meant to hear but did anyway.

"Hang on just one minute!!!" John shouted, his voice strained.

Mycroft waited outside, really not wanting to barge in, really not wanting to see either John or his brother in the nude and especially not in the nude together.

There was the sound of something glass rolling off the table and smashing on the floor followed by a sizzle and a "shit". Mycroft tutted, surely Sherlock would have cleared away his experiments first?

There was another bang which he assumed was John hitting the floor. So they were doing it on the table then and John was bottom. That was an image he didn't particularly want in his mind.

He heard a trail of fast footsteps running into Sherlocks bedroom and assumed it was safe to open the door so he did.

Sherlock was stood wrapped in his bed sheet, hair mussed, face flushed, hands by his crotch hiding something Mycroft knew was there.

"So brother dear, busy morning?" That smirk was still plastered across his face when Sherlock grimaced.

"Haven't you got better places to be Mycroft?" He muttered turning round, flicking the kettle on.

"Unsurprisingly, yes but unfortunately I need a favour." He spoke, moving to John's chair in the the sitting room, far away from the dirty table.

"Can't one of your underlings do it? Isn't that what you pay them for?"

Sherlock bought his cup of coffee over and deposited himself in what looked like a very awkward, very uncomfortable position in his leather chair.

"You're not going to offer me a drink?" Mycroft asked sarcasm blatantly present in his tone.

"No, you're right, I'm not going to offer you a drink." Sherlock replied.

Mycroft tutted, "Mummy would be appalled."

"Mummy is never appalled at me, I'm her favourite." He retorted.

How very tragically true.

Mycroft didn't reply to that, instead changing the topic back to the favour he needed. "There's a terrorist attack imminent in central London." Sherlock ignored him. "Sherlock. This is important Sherlock. I need you to-"

"No." He was cut off. "No I'm busy Mycroft."

"Busy with John, apparently."

"What me and John do is none of your concern." He replied immediately.

"Good because I'm not interested in what the two of you do in your spare time."

At that moment John came out of the 'bathroom', fully dressed.

"He was just leaving." Sherlock explained before John had even said hello.

Mycroft stood up, not wanting to intrude any more into the personal life of his brother.

"Well at least think it through." He said. "Good day Dr Watson."

Sherlock slammed the door behind me and Mycroft heard him say to John, "Now, where were we?" Loud enough on purpose.

Mycroft shuddered and left them to it.

(20k Woop!!!!!!!!!!)