Challenge #25: Fanfiction
Title: Food
Word Count: 448
Rating: PG
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairings (if any): Mycroft & Sherlock (as brothers)
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None
Summary: The Holmes brothers' bond
Mycroft and Sherlock may not have been as fond of each other as they once were, but it was all far less dire than was purported. They played their brotherhood out like a spiteful thing for all others to view. As always most would see but not observe. Hear but not listen. They saw Sherlock look mockingly at Mycroft, heard him taunt his brother about putting on a few pounds and failed to notice that Sherlock (the one who constantly correctly guessed peoples weight to within a quarter of a pound) seemed to only do this when Mycroft could reply “actually I’ve lost a few.”
Food had always bonded them. The obvious notion of a bond due to mutual intelligence never came to pass; their intellect caused more rivalry and insults and hurt than it did connection forming. The initial assumption that Sherlock was an idiot seemed to still sting, Mycroft saw it in every move of his little brother’s haphazard showing off: even if Sherlock would never admit it. He was running trying to catch up to his big brother back then, and in some ways still was now. But their parents had never made a fuss over their intelligence, allowing both of their children to grow as they would. Food, on the other hand, was a battle ground their parents felt a constant need to inflict on them, and therefore an arena in which the brothers united together against their elders.
*Flashback*
Mycroft always wanted more food than his parents deemed healthy and Sherlock always wanted far less than was deemed healthy. There was an obvious solution. Of course their parents were sharp and thus the Holmes boys food trafficking had to be cautious and smart.
Of course it only took Mycroft a milliseconds glance at his brother to check he was receiving sufficient nutrients: Nails, hair, skin. He knew his little brother was fine, didn’t know why mummy and daddy made such a fuss. But he made a point to (as a good big brother) sometimes send some vegetables back, ‘you have to eat some of your greens’ went unsaid. And unlike when their parents insisted, Sherlock actually ate them.
Sherlock knew all about anatomy, and about future risks of cholesterol and diabetes and heart disease. He also knew that Mycroft’s weight was fine and that their parents were at times overly concerned about appearances. Though only because they wanted the best for their children. But sometimes Sherlock ate his own sickly sweet dessert, just to be safe.
Over the years their methods varied and became more complex, changing often to avoid detection, it eventually grew into an art form, sometimes involving redbeard and hidden pulleys.
Word Count: 448
Rating: PG
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairings (if any): Mycroft & Sherlock (as brothers)
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None
Summary: The Holmes brothers' bond
Mycroft and Sherlock may not have been as fond of each other as they once were, but it was all far less dire than was purported. They played their brotherhood out like a spiteful thing for all others to view. As always most would see but not observe. Hear but not listen. They saw Sherlock look mockingly at Mycroft, heard him taunt his brother about putting on a few pounds and failed to notice that Sherlock (the one who constantly correctly guessed peoples weight to within a quarter of a pound) seemed to only do this when Mycroft could reply “actually I’ve lost a few.”
Food had always bonded them. The obvious notion of a bond due to mutual intelligence never came to pass; their intellect caused more rivalry and insults and hurt than it did connection forming. The initial assumption that Sherlock was an idiot seemed to still sting, Mycroft saw it in every move of his little brother’s haphazard showing off: even if Sherlock would never admit it. He was running trying to catch up to his big brother back then, and in some ways still was now. But their parents had never made a fuss over their intelligence, allowing both of their children to grow as they would. Food, on the other hand, was a battle ground their parents felt a constant need to inflict on them, and therefore an arena in which the brothers united together against their elders.
*Flashback*
Mycroft always wanted more food than his parents deemed healthy and Sherlock always wanted far less than was deemed healthy. There was an obvious solution. Of course their parents were sharp and thus the Holmes boys food trafficking had to be cautious and smart.
Of course it only took Mycroft a milliseconds glance at his brother to check he was receiving sufficient nutrients: Nails, hair, skin. He knew his little brother was fine, didn’t know why mummy and daddy made such a fuss. But he made a point to (as a good big brother) sometimes send some vegetables back, ‘you have to eat some of your greens’ went unsaid. And unlike when their parents insisted, Sherlock actually ate them.
Sherlock knew all about anatomy, and about future risks of cholesterol and diabetes and heart disease. He also knew that Mycroft’s weight was fine and that their parents were at times overly concerned about appearances. Though only because they wanted the best for their children. But sometimes Sherlock ate his own sickly sweet dessert, just to be safe.
Over the years their methods varied and became more complex, changing often to avoid detection, it eventually grew into an art form, sometimes involving redbeard and hidden pulleys.