squeakpigsrevenge:

sadieandmo:

squeakpigsrevenge:

sadieandmo:

Sadie: That’s a very good point. John would fight tooth and nail to keep that ‘tough guy’ exterior up around Mycroft…his is not a baby, should anyone need to be reminded. But, Sherlock *does* look awfully content to sit in his older brother’s lap. And Mycroft, while still being his normal stuffy, proper self, doesn’t sound as nearly condescending as he usually does. And John is starting to feel a bit left out.

“Mine.”
“Not if you can’t behave.” Mycroft tugged on the little doctors coat sleeve until he was in front of them. “Since I need to keep an eye on you.”
“I didn’t mean’a poke him.” John huffed, walking more heavily than was strictly necessary.
“Attitude, Jawn.”
Sherlock looked especially smug. “I can have cherries on my whip creme.”
“Me too!” Jawn nearly tripped over himself to get back the two steps to Sherlock, strop forgotten. “‘Member that one time Nana maked ice cream with worms!”
“Yeah!”
“Nana fed you worms?”
“G’een worms are the best worms.”
“Maybe they can make worm sundaes.”
Mycroft felt himself turn a little green. Green Mycroft’s are not the best Mycroft’s.

Sadie: Sherlock turned to Mycroft to ask him what kinds of worms he thought were the best and was surprised to see all the colour drained from his face….then he started giggling. “NO, My!…they’s candy!” he hooted.

Mycroft felt a rush of relief, but it was short-lived as John joined in with Sherlock’s cackling and ribbing. “Worms are foul,” he sniffed. “Even if they’re are candy ones.”

“You thought real worms!” John crowed, pulling faces.

“Gross!” Sherlock added.

“Yes, it is,” Mycroft agreed. “And that’s why we’re going to change the subject, NOW.”

A Cheshire cat-esque smile split John’s face. “My’coff gonna be sick? Don’t like worms? Squiggly, wiggly worms?”

“Jawn.”

“Wiggly worms in mou’f? Wiggle down into tummy?”

Mycroft felt that ‘green’ feeling lurch against his guts. “Jawn, I said no more.”

“Wiggly worms in–!”

“Let’s talk about Jawn’s padded bum, hm?”

John’s mouth hung open before snapping closed with an audible click of his teeth. “I don’t want this anymore.” He said, shoving the umbrella into Sherlock’s hands before turning on his heels and walking away.
“Jawn Hamish, get your bottom back here.”
John’s shoulders shot up around his ears at the use of his middle name.
Mycroft softened his approach, “Come on now, lad. You can tease me but I can’t tease you?”
John glanced over his shoulder, his little face scrunched to keep from crying.
“I may have over stepped. I apologize. Can you forgive me?”
John nodded quickly and collided with Mycroft, wrapping short arms around his waist.

Sadie: Mycroft wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders simultaneously. “There,” he said, lightly patting his back, “Let’s make a pact to stop teasing each other the first time one asks, yes? Good plan?”

John nodded, his face hidden against the taller man’s chest.

Mycroft chuckled…the pair was certainly a handful, but they were an adorable handful. “…It’s an awfully cute padded bum, though, you have to admit.”

John’s head snapped up, stricken. “You can really see…?!”

“Only because I know it’s already there.” Mycroft was quick to assure him. “No one else would think to look twice.”

A little of the tension left John’s shoulders, and they sagged with relief. But as soon as he seemed to be settling, the little Captain puffed up again; “Why do you think no one would look twice at my bum?”

“Oh, for…!” Mycroft turned John around and got the group moving again. “I’ll look at your bum all you want when it’s over my knee later, you little brat.”

John giggled and stuck out his tongue. “I wan’ the umbrella back.”

“No, you willingly gave it up; it’s Sherlock’s turn.”