Title: Breaking and Entering

Main Pairing: Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade

About: Just how did Sherlock and John find out about Mycroft and Greg? This was originally written for a prompt on the BBC Sherlock kink meme but I think it works in this story :)

Warning: Just swearing and small amount of m/m sex

Written For: Anonymous

{o}

'This is such a bad idea,' John groaned for what felt like the fiftieth time that day.

'Shut up, John,' Sherlock scowled as he finally got the door open. He grinned and stood. 'Remind me to thank my brother for teaching me how to pick locks.'

John rolled his eyes as he stepped into the flat behind his boyfriend. 'Yeah, 'course. 'Hey, Mycroft, Sherlock said thanks for teaching him to pick locks. It means he can break into DI's flats and steal evidence'.'

'It's not stealing,' Sherlock said as he peered around. 'More like... borrowing.'

John snorted as he stood by the door, watching Sherlock gaze around. The flat was rather tidy and spartan; only a small coffee table, couch, and TV cabinet in the living room. The kitchen had a few plates and pans but not much, indicating the owner mostly ate out... or didn't entertain much.

'I wish our flat was this clean,' John commented.

'Boring,' Sherlock said dryly.

'Sherlock, honestly, how is any of this a good idea? Didn't you say it was Greg's day off?'

Sherlock peered under the couch, like maybe Greg Lestrade kept files beneath it. 'Yes, it is.'

'So... won't be home?' John asked.

'No, he is at his lover's.'

John frowned at that. He and Greg were mates; not best mates, but mates nonetheless. The DI hadn't mentioned anything to him.

'He hasn't mentioned it because Lestrade considered himself mostly straight until he met his current lover.'

Well, wasn't John's day just full of surprises? First Sherlock makes him tea, then he takes him out for lunch, following by a quick detour to break into a Detective Inspector's flat followed by, 'Oh, and Lestrade's shagging a bloke.'.

'I... what?' John managed.

Sherlock straightened from his examination of the bookcase to look at John. 'Lestrade has a new lover; a lover who is a man. John, what part of my first sentence did you no understand?'

'All of it,' John admitted.

Sherlock scowled. 'Honestly, John, why do I put up with you?'

''Cause I'm a good shag?' John ventured. That got a smile and John chuckled. 'Just... God, we'll talk about this later, yeah? I don't think Greg would appreciate us discussing his sex life in his flat while he's not here, especially after the divorce.'

'Yes, he is rather sensitive about it, Lord knows why,' Sherlock murmured, now poking through the stack of files on Greg's coffee table.

'Sherlock, he was married for eight years. That's eight years just... gone.'

'So?'

John sighed. 'Never mind,' he muttered before crossing the living room to stand before his partner. 'What are you looking for?'

'A case Lestrade was given yesterday,' Sherlock said. 'I wanted to look at the bead that was found but Lestrade was rather ticked off about the condoms I put on his desk and wouldn't let me see it.'

'Yeah, um, why did you put ten boxes of condoms on his desk?' John asked.

Sherlock smirked at him. 'To remind our dear DI to practice safe sex, John.'

'Right, of course,' John just shrugged. Really, he was too nervous to probe into his lover's bizarre brain at that moment. They were breaking and entering... and it was a DI's flat, one that they knew! Somehow John didn't think Greg would be okay with it... and knowing it was Sherlock Greg would probably chuck them in a cell just for the fun of it. 'Sherlock, just hurry up,' John said.

Suddenly there was a bang from somewhere down the hallway and both men froze.

'Sherlock?' John questioned. 'Are you sure Greg's not home?'

'Well...' Sherlock began and John glared at him.

'Sherlock!'

'Quiet!' Sherlock hissed back as a rather loud moan echoed down the hallway. He grinned suddenly. 'Oh, marvellous, he's here with his lover.' Stealing evidence suddenly forgotten, Sherlock straightened and peered down the hallway.

It was then that John spotted the umbrella against the wall by the door, something his body had been blocking from Sherlock's view. John would recognise it anywhere...

OH MY GOD! His brain imploded. Suddenly John ran to the hallway, standing before it and pushing Sherlock back.

'John?' his boyfriend questioned.

'Er, I don't think you want to go down there,' John said. If he was right about the umbrella, and the umbrella owner... Jesus Christ on a stick!

'Why not?' Sherlock demanded. 'I can tease Lestrade endlessly for his taste in men.'

'Sherlock, I'm begging you, don't go down there.'

Sherlock just rolled his eyes and shoved John aside. But John wasn't giving up; he latched onto Sherlock's coat, trying to drag his boyfriend back. Unfortunately Sherlock was stronger then he looked and managed to stamp all the way down the hallway, pulling John along the floorboards.

In a last ditch attempt, John threw his arms around Sherlock's waist.

'Seriously, don't!' he shouted.

Sherlock ignored him and pushed open the door to Greg's bedroom–

– the noise Sherlock made was somewhere between a gasp, a gurgle, a swallow, and a whimper. He managed to sound like he was swallowing his tongue and swearing all at the same time. John peered around Sherlock's body and swore.

Gregory Lestrade was atop Mycroft Holmes, the politician's hands pinned to the headboard by the DI's large fingers. Both men were frozen, right in the middle of sex, eyes wide as they looked at Sherlock and John.

It was Mycroft who shouted first.

'SHERLOCK!'

Sherlock turned and ran, John falling on his arse as his boyfriend stepped over him. He managed to get up, Greg already scrambling off the bed and pulling boxers on.

'Son of a fucking–'

'God, I'm sorry,' John said before he too was running.

Somehow Sherlock had forgotten just how doors worked. He was pulling at the main door handle, whimpering and muttering and looking more freaked out then John had ever seen him. John's efforts to pry Sherlock's fingers free proved fruitless and in seconds they were joined by Mycroft and Greg.

'What the fuck are you doing in my flat?' the DI demanded. He was half-naked, wearing only boxers and looking sweaty and... well, fucked. Mycroft had his trousers on, the belt open but zip and button done up. John had never seen the man so casual (and in that little clothing) and just stared, mouth falling open.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft shouted.

'No, no, I'm not turning around!' Sherlock said, once again trying to get the door open. 'No, no, no!'

'Sherlock, what are you doing here?' Mycroft said. 'We locked the door–'

'Sherlock picked it,' John said, all eyes moving to him. He blushed and looked down. 'I... told him not to,' he mumbled.

'Sherlock, of all the fucking stupid arsed things you've ever done!' Greg snarled. 'Breaking into a police officer's flat?'

'I didn't know!' Sherlock whined, back still to the other three men. 'I didn't know you... and Mycroft... let me out!'

'Sherlock, we're going to discuss this like adults,' Mycroft said.

'I don't want to,' his brother pouted.

'I don't care,' Mycroft said and sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. 'What you just saw... wasn't the first time.'

'Dear God,' Sherlock groaned.

'Gregory and I are together.'

Sherlock finally turned to glare at him. 'Gregory? Gregory?'

'One does tend to call their boyfriend by their first name,' Mycroft said.

'Boyfriend?' Sherlock shouted.

'Sherlock, calm down,' John murmured.

'No I will not calm down!' Sherlock screamed, rounding on John. 'Did you know about this?'

'God no,' John shook his head. 'I found out the same time you did. I didn't even know Greg was sleeping with a bloke, remember?'

Greg groaned and rubbed his eyes. 'Fucking shit bollocks.'

'I don't want to talk about this,' Sherlock said. 'Let me out!' He turned and started on the door handle again, finally ripping it free.

'I love him, Sherlock!' Mycroft shouted. Sherlock didn't listen, instead tearing through the door and outside. 'If that helps,' Mycroft said softly.

He, Greg and John stood in silence, staring at the open door. Finally John cleared his throat.

'Well,' he said slowly, 'erm... sorry.'

'Fucking hell, John,' Greg glared at the shorter man. 'Didn't think to stop him, did you?'

'Me?' John said. 'What the hell could I have done? I tried a dozen times to talk him out of it but he's Sherlock!'

'He's your boyfriend, learn to control him!' Greg shouted.

John just smirked. 'Yeah, 'cause controlling a Holmes is always easy.'

They lapsed into silence again, Mycroft fiddling with his belt, Greg glaring at John and John pointedly not looking at either man.

'Well,' he said again. 'I'll just go. I... congratulations?'

Greg managed a chuckle, anger suddenly deflating. 'Yeah, thanks.'

'So you two... how long?'

'Six months,' Mycroft said.

'And Sherlock didn't know?' John questioned.

'He knew I was shagging a bloke,' Greg said, 'did know who.'

'Yeah, about that...' John said. 'If you wanna talk, well... I know all about suddenly liking men.'

Greg laughed again. 'Right. How about a pint? Let me know Sherlock's not gonna kill me in my sleep for doing his brother.'

'Honestly, Gregory,' Mycroft rolled his eyes but gave his partner a small smile. John could see it there; the love, the devotion... they really were happy together.

'Right,' John nodded. 'So congrats again and I'll just...' He walked out the door, not bothering to say goodbye. He found Sherlock outside, puffing on a cigarette. 'Where the bloody hell did you get that?'

Sherlock just grunted.

'Erm, love, I think they really care about each other.'

Another grunt.

'It's not jus sex.'

A groan.

'They care about–'

'John, I don't want to think about it,' the sociopath cut him off. 'Please.'

'Right,' John nodded and went silent. Sherlock finished his cigarette and hailed a taxi, the two men climbing in. John waited a few minutes before saying, 'I told you breaking into Greg's flat was a bad idea.'

Sherlock groaned and thumped his head against the window.