[Zhongyingmei] Younger brother

After answering the call from the United States, McCoff took off his suit and vest, put them away neatly, and started to rinse if no one entered the bathroom.

The whole room fell silent. Sherlock was wearing a white shirt spread out on the bed, his limbs stretched out, like a very relaxed cat, exposing his belly, occupying the entire double bed by himself, arrogantly holding Show the demeanor of the master.

A cat that is at least 1.8 meters long - this is what McCauf saw when he came out of the bathroom.

For reasons of work and safety, Mycroft's apartment rarely changes, and the apartment he lives in now is still the one that Mycroft lived in when Sherlock came to London.And until now, there is still a room belonging to Sherlock.

Of course it wasn't the room that the big cat was occupying now.

McCoff threw the women's magazines to Da Miao's side, and slowly took care of his thinning hair, not sitting on the bed.

Even though the bed was actually a little vacant, it was at least possible to sit on it.

"Boring!"

Sherlock finally made a sound, but it was not in 221B's voice, and he was flipping through the magazine with great interest.

If John heard it, he would be shocked. In the past, this sound sounded like it was going to explode, but now it is just looking for a sense of presence.

But this time Mycroft didn't pay attention to Sherlock, and didn't even stop the movement of his hands.

"Mycroft!"

Mycroft looked back at Sherlock's pale eyes, his hands trembled violently, and even a strand of hair was pulled out.

This anxious tone almost made Mycroft think that he had gone back to many years ago.

Mycroft was still in high school, and Sherlock was in his teens, restless and restless.

It seems that it is a matter of course to hold the world in the palm of your hand, but the reality is not like this. The world does not belong to Sherlock, and even Mycroft does not belong to Sherlock.

Sherlock, who discovered this, was like a porcupine fish. Before he touched him, he had already exploded. He was so angry that he wanted to stab everyone, and he stubbornly refused to listen to any explanation.

This bad boy completely doesn't understand the heart of a young brother who has to worry about being dishonest at home even when he is away at school!He must have started to worry about this little brother at such a young age to make his forehead smooth!

Occasionally when I go home, I can only see a furry back of the head, muttering slang, I don’t know which bastard he learned from, and finally calmed him down, but he re-approved the university he attended. In the end, people can't figure out what he wants to express.

The parents could only say to Mycroft sternly and embarrassingly: "Don't pay attention to this, you don't know how sad Sherlock was after you left. When I come back this time, I have to tell him what to do."

"Don't talk about how embarrassing I am! I won't act like a politician outside like him! Well, a popular student union president, countless flirtatious friends? Yes Others don’t care, it’s really that hypocritical guy! He also likes to go to the football team often? Is there any cheerleader? Maybe it’s a blonde with big breasts and buttocks that everyone likes? No, it’s not like that, you don’t have a girlfriend yet, There's no trace of a bad relationship, hell, is it just for football? I remember you are not someone who likes football! Why?"

The 13-year-old Sherlock didn't know how to hide his talent, reversed all the reasoning he learned from Mycroft, and came up with an answer that he didn't know, and he didn't pay attention to his parents. A sigh of words.

"Mom, leave it to me." This is like a must-have sentence for McCaw.

"Sherlock, you must know that as a boy, you will have some related hobbies sooner or later, which is not inconsistent with any previous situation. But now, it is not the time to show your progress, your concern should be expressed Be more direct, or you will hurt your brother's heart." Mycroft rubbed Sherlock's head with a smile, and Sherlock, who hadn't seen him for a long time, grew taller.

On the afternoon when Mycroft came back, no matter how much he did, the only response was Sherlock's provocation.

People have to wonder if Sherlock's rebellious period came so suddenly, or if he really didn't hate the care from his brother.

Until the night, before Sherlock fell asleep, Mycroft could only stay aside and look at Sherlock instead of talking, as if he had been forgotten.

"Mycroft!"

When Mycroft was about to leave, he suddenly heard the voice of Sherlock who was asleep. When he turned his head, he saw the light blue eyes staring at him, and said to himself in a reproachful tone: "You have to go!"

"Oh no, Sherlock."

Mycroft let go of the hand that opened the doorknob, and returned to the chair beside the bed. It wasn't until McCoff sat down that his pale eyes closed again, and then he seemed to fall asleep.

The room is quiet, and the orange light reflects warm colors on the black curly hair, which is everything at home, for Mycroft.

The faint sound of breathing, the occasional sound of turning the pages of a book, seemed to be every day before McCoff had no boarding school.

"Mycroft!"

I don't know how long it took, Sherlock who woke up suddenly made a sound, his light-colored eyes were still a little hazy, and he was startled from sleep.With anxiety, he shouted when he was overwhelmed and afraid of missing something every time he tried a new experiment.

An anxious and longing call.Mycroft hadn't heard it for a long time.

"Yes, Sherlock, I am."

Mycroft closed the book, repeated to Sherlock again, and kissed Sherlock's forehead, a good night kiss with soothing meaning.

Apart from the sleeping sound, there seemed to be some reassuring things floating in the air, or a tacit understanding that made people feel comfortable.It's as normal as having a swing in the garden of memory, like breathing, like a timely resurgence of memory.

Mycroft believes that this is the feeling of brotherhood, family affection, confidant, the indescribable growing up together, all feelings, everything.Always thought so.

Mycroft turned the book in his hand to the last page, and gently put it on the side of the bedside table. There was no sound when his feet landed on the wool carpet, but he was interrupted again.

Sherlock doesn't seem to have woken up from his dream yet, his light-colored eyes are filled with physiological water, and his dazed and soft appearance has never been shown when he is awake, just like when he was still soft and sticky to the mic Kauf, while he was still watching Mykauf.

"Oh, Mycroft, yes, you're there."

Sherlock's tone seemed to be muttering about the book that was placed beside the bed, he didn't care and took it for granted, thinking that he was in Mycroft's world.

"Yes, I'm here."

Then Mycroft turned his outward foot in the opposite direction, sat on Sherlock's bed, and said to his mother, I will be with Sherlock tonight.

Mycroft agreed with Sherlock's take for granted. Of course, this is just a child's nature, and other children are also like this. They like to monopolize the attention of their loved ones. There is nothing wrong with it.

"Don't spoil him too much, Mycroft, he's already past the age for bedside stories, he's too coquettish!" Mother nagged, but left Mycroft in Sherlock's room.

No, I am not.Mycroft is not a doting brother.

"It's just been too long, I guess he must miss me, brothermine."

"Damn Mycroft." The sleeping Sherlock muttered inarticulately.

"Yes, my nasty little brother."

Breaking out of his memory, Mycroft repeated what he said to his younger brother back then, "Yes, I hate my younger brother."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, but did not refute, but turned around, but his slender body was huddled up on the bed, like a cat.

"Would you like to stay here and rest tonight, Sherlock?"