A/N: This story is going to be much darker, angsty-er, and, um, kinkier than my previous stories. So, I apologize in advance for pushing anyone's buttons. Just don't say you weren't warned! It doesn't involve a case, per-se, so it probably won't be terribly long in length. This is mostly to forward the relationships of the main characters involved, and to reveal a bit more of the backstory of the Holmes family. Story begins the morning after "The Air Conditioner." As usual, written from John's POV.

Warnings: Extreme family dysfunction, adult (i.e. sexual) subject matter, masturbation, angst, underlying hints of slash, but (still) nothing explicit. Some swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. The title is an homage to a song by Morrissey, but there's not a direct connection to the song, I just thought the title was appropriate. No disrespect or infringement intended. No profits are made by me.

I Am Hated For Loving - 1

I woke up to the sound of knocking. For a moment, I was completely disoriented, not knowing where I was. Then I remembered - of course: Sherlock's bed - with Sherlock.

I sat up quickly, in a sudden panic, as if I were about to be caught in a compromising position. It was silly, as Sherlock and I were not doing anything but sleeping together, and even if we were doing more, it still shouldn't matter. However, my heart raced on, ignoring any logic my brain offered up.

I looked over at Sherlock beside me. He had awakened as well, and was making a disgusted face.

"Mycroft," he said, "we might as well get up. If we don't, he's likely to go ahead and come in anyway."

The idea of Mycroft Holmes coming in the room and finding me in bed with his baby brother was enough to levitate me out of the bed and out the bedroom door at lightning speed. I was in my t-shirt and pajama pants, and I wished I had my dressing gown, but I had forgotten it upstairs in my own room. Right now, Mycroft Holmes was presumably standing between myself and access to my room. I wasn't sure how Sherlock knew that the person knocking on the door was Mycroft, but experience had taught me to trust that he was probably correct.

I opened the flat door and there indeed stood Mycroft Holmes, impeccably attired as usual in a three-piece suit, umbrella in hand. He had his usual smile on his face, although his eyes looked red and puffy, with dark shadows underneath them. He looked me over, in the way that the Holmes brothers do, and turned and looked ever so briefly at the stairs I hadn't come down.

"Good morning John, I apologize if I got you out of bed."

"It's ok, I had to get up soon anyway. Come on in." Damn! I should have said I was already up!

"Can I get you some tea Mycroft? I'm going to fix myself and Sherlock some."

"Tea would be wonderful, thanks."

"What do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock demanded as he came out of the bedroom in his dressing gown. I tried not to be jealous. After all, it wasn't his fault I'd forgotten mine.

"You slept in your bed last night? What's the occasion?" Mycroft's eyes flickered back and forth between us.

Sherlock flushed. "What do you want, Mycroft?" he repeated through gritted teeth.

"I was on my way to the office and thought I'd stop in and say hello."

"Liar. You look like hell. What is it Mycroft?"

"I've been very busy with work, a lot of late nights."

There was a pause.

"So what do you want Mycroft?"

"I don't want anything. I just wanted to see you."

Sherlock snorted. "You never just want to see me. You want to either interfere with something I'm doing or ask me a favor. So which is it this morning?"

I was thankful I was in the kitchen getting the tea ready, but I wished I was even further away. I was always very uncomfortable witnessing the two brothers sparring.

Mycroft sighed. "I promise you, Sherlock, I'm not here to interfere or ask you a favor."

"So it's just a coincidence that you decide to come to visit early today?"

I brought out mugs of tea for Sherlock and Mycroft, just in time to catch Mycroft's sly smirk. I retreated quickly back into the kitchen.

"Nothing I do is a coincidence. But I promise, I'm not here to interfere."

"Mycroft..." Sherlock began furiously, but he was cut off by Mycroft suddenly leaping from the chair he had sat in.

"Stop it!" he shouted. "Just stop it, alright? Why do you think it so bothersome that I should care about you and what goes on in your life? Why should I have to resort to subterfuge to find out how you spend your time and who you spend it with? Why shouldn't a brother just stop in to say hello once in a while? Believe it or not, Sherlock, it's NORMAL for siblings to see each other socially more than just once a year for Christmas dinner. Why can't we be more like a normal - " and he stopped just as suddenly as he'd exploded.

Sherlock and I were both frozen in place, staring at him open-mouthed. I could hardly believe that the icy, collected Mycroft Holmes was actually letting his emotions run free.

Mycroft gulped down the rest of his tea, then came in the kitchen and handed the mug back to me. He smiled at me, his eyes tired and sad.

"Thanks for the tea, John," he said, "I hope that Sherlock doesn't come to resent you for caring for him, the way he does me."

He then walked back to the sitting room, collected his umbrella, said goodbye to Sherlock and left.

I walked out to the sitting room myself and found Sherlock staring after his brother, wearing an expression of shock and confusion.

TBC

Sorry for such a short opening chapter, but it seemed a logical stopping point. And, I have to leave for work now! Please let me know what you think of it so far...