A/N: So first off this is actually the first Johnlock fic I've ever really wanted to publish. I don't own any of the characters, and I'll be adding warnings where applied. Enjoy!

I'm also going to add there's probably some typo's I've missed.

Warnings: Fluff and brotherly fighting

Chapter 6: Big Brother .VS. Little Brother

Sherlock woke up to darkness with the only light streaming in under the door of John's dorm. He rolled onto his back, being mindful not to wake John, and took his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose to relieve a small headache he'd acquired from sleeping with them on.

"Stay...we don't have to do anything, I just...can you stay? Please?" John reached up and wrapped his hand around Sherlock's.

Sherlock knew he should say no, he should leave, the line between them was already dissolving, staying could wipe it out of existence. But-

"Okay," Sherlock nodded and John relaxed.

No, relax isn't the right word. He sagged. The tension drained from his body.

Sherlock stood up and toed off his shoes while John pushed the already rumpled sheets to the foot of the bed. Sherlock got back in the bed and moved so his back was to the wall. John laid down next to him, his head tucked under Sherlock's chin and an arm wrapped around Sherlock, their legs slotted together.

"Why'd I need to ask?" John murmured softly.

"Because...I needed to know you wanted this too," Sherlock answered.

He reached out and ran his thumb across John's cheek. His black-eye had all but faded and a nice feeling of pride? Impressiveness? Swelled in his chest to see Moran's face still colored a lovely shade of sickly green.

"Tickles..." John mumbled as he opened his eyes.

He blinked up at Sherlock bleary-eyed but smiled a bit.

"Want me to stop?" Sherlock asked.

"No...s'nice…" John answered.

He reached behind him to get his phone and both men winced at the sudden bright light from the screen. John squinted as he scrolled through some texts.

"What time is it?" Sherlock asked.

"Little after midnight," John answered. "Some nap huh?"

"Indeed," Sherlock made a sound of acknowledgment as his eyes adjusted to the dark again. "Perhaps I could hire you as a student worker…"

"What?" John asked.

"You asked me to stay John," Sherlock answered. "And I don't see myself letting you go so easily."

"Oh…"

Sherlock could hear the smile in John's voice. "If I hire you as a student worker, then we'll be able to spend time together outside of class without it seeming suspicious," Sherlock ran his fingers through John's hair. "I could use an assistant. Grade tests and the likes."

"Am I allowed to do that?" John asked.

"Not for our class no," Sherlock answered. "But I teach a few logic classes, and criminal studies class as an extracurricular, you could grade those quizzes and tests."

"What did you even go to school for?" John asked. Curiosity was laced in his voice.

"I double minored in psychology and criminal law, with a double major in philosophy and chemistry," Sherlock answered. "I went to graduate school to get my masters in emphasis on understanding the modern human."

"Amazing…" John murmured. "You've got the brains and the looks."

Sherlock blushed at the compliment and ran his fingers through John's hair. "You shouldn't throw such words around so carelessly."

"Fraid I'm being honest," John smiled and leaned in and brushed his lips against Sherlock's. "You're just...oh, you're so gorgeous and brilliant."

Sherlock shifted a little as John started to climb on top of him and tangled his fingers into his curls.

"Extraordinary really," he continued and kissed Sherlock again. "M'always fascinated by you."

Sherlock swallowed around the lump suddenly lodged in his throat as the praise washed over him like a crescendo. His cheeks were no doubt red and he was thankful for small miracles that John made no move to turn on the lights.

If only you really knew... Sherlock thought bitterly as John settled on top of him.

"Can you stay a little longer?" John asked. "I promise to keep inflating your ego if you do."

Sherlock chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of John's head. "I should go...if I stay, then it'll be a bit difficult to explain my presence in the student dorms."

"Private tutoring," John smirked as he nuzzled him. "Helping me with anatomy."

Sherlock laughed and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. "God that's tempting. Where do you suppose we'd start?"

"I could name the parts of your body."

Sherlock could practically see John's smile in the dark.

"Start with the frontal, work my way down to the pectoral," he brushed his fingers over Sherlock's chest. "Followed by the groin, and finally," he tangled their feet together "the pedal."

"I think you've missed the important bits," Sherlock pouted.

"Oh?" John asked with a hint of teasing.

Sherlock smirked and ran his fingers down John's back to cup his ass. "The gluteal."

"See? All the more reason for you to stay," John groaned as he pushed back into the hands.

"Next time," Sherlock promised after a heartbeat. "Come on, up you get."

John huffed and rolled off giving Sherlock room to sit up. He twisted this way and that letting out a sigh at the satisfying crack his joints gave.

"I would invest in a memory foam pad, much better for the back," Sherlock told him as he pulled on his coat.

"Is that what you've got?" John asked. "You're bed's like sleeping on a cloud."

"Pillow top actually," Sherlock answered. "Though I'm glad you approve of my mattress."

"It helps there's a handsome bloke who sleeps on top of it too," John stood up and walked over to Sherlock. "How come you never wear a scarf…"

"Constricting," Sherlock answered. "My coat holds up just fine."

A thoughtful look crossed John's face as he reached out to finger the wool fabric of Sherlock's coat.

"You're going to need to let me go at some point," Sherlock smiled softly. "You'll get tired of me after another twenty minutes."

"No I won't," John looked up.

"You will…" Sherlock said. "Get some sleep."

"Only if you do," John replied.

"You drive a hard bargain." Sherlock kissed his forehead as John dropped his hands.

"Love what you've done to the place brother mine," Mycroft mused as he walked into Sherlock's shut the door behind him before walking over. "Honestly, a man your age should know how to pick up his things properly."

"If you're so put off by my messes, perhaps you shouldn't clean up after me so often," Sherlock said. "What are you doing here Mycroft?"

"I wanted to see how you were settling in. You weren't sending complaining texts, I got worried," Mycroft collected the stack of books from the chair in front of Sherlock's desk and set them on the floor as he sat.

"As you can see, I'm fine," Sherlock replied. "Don't let the door hit your arse on the way out."

"I'm not finished," Mycroft said. "Irene told me of your little, drink was it?"

"Took her long enough." Sherlock set the pen aside. "I don't see how it's any of your business really. I'm allowed to sleep with whomever I want."

"What's his name Sherlock?" Mycroft asked.

"None of your business," Sherlock answered.

"Don't be childish. It doesn't suit you," Mycroft told him.

"Me? Be childish? Why Mycroft I am being nothing but a pleasure, you on the end," Sherlock tsked as he pointed at his brother with his pen. "Mummy would be so displeased if I told her you just barged into my office without so much as a call. Where ever did those manners go?"

"The same place your sense of morality is residing." Mycroft gave him a tight-lipped smile. "What is his name Sherlock."

"No idea who you're talking about," Sherlock answered. "I was as high as a kite, so you'll forgive me I'm a bit light on the details."

"Must I inquire a drug test as well?" Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh come off it Mycroft," Sherlock scoffed. "I'm not stupid. You know me, cigarettes are my only vice. Though we do have a nice four day holiday coming up. What's the going rate for a nice bit of coke you think?"

"That's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

Sherlock stood up and walked to the door. He pulled it open with a dramatic flourish and looked back at his brother.

"Goodbye Mycroft."

Mycroft stood to his feet and gripped the handle of his umbrella. "I must remind you brother dear. Big brother is always watching."

"You're right about the big part." Sherlock flashed him a grin. "I see the diet's failing again."

Mycroft gave him a withering glare as he walked out of the office. Sherlock shut the door behind him with more force than necessary and collapsed onto his couch throwing an arm over his face.