Chapter Text
“It's the most adorable thing, really.”
“Really? I never would expect it from him...”
“....”
“Oh do lighten up, dear brother. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Piss off....”
“Aah, yes. I see. Now, John- this is what I'm talking about. When he gets all crabby like this, now is the time to do it. You've just got to kind of move your hands right he-”
“AAAH!!! BLOODY FU- STOP IT!!!”
“Haha! See!? It's his bones that are the worst! Right here on his knees...”
“M-Mycroft!!!”
“....oh, and his rib cage is definitely a good spot...”
“Mycroft, s-stop thi-hi-his at o-once!!!”
“Ah, but his most sensitive area is ri-”
“MYCROFT!!!! NO!!!”
Mycroft's hand hovered somewhere between Sherlock's belly and his thighs and he looked up at his younger brother with a sly smirk. Sherlock was slightly pink in the face and his breathing had quickened a bit.
“No...”
“....fine. John, dear, if he ever gives you any trouble, remember those two spots.”
The man rose from his seat in the flat's living room and was making his way to the door when he suddenly stopped and turned, twisting the point of his umbrella into the carpet.
“Oh, and if he's ever giving you a lot of trouble, call me and I'll tell you the third. Ciao!”
The consulting detective leaned back into the leather sofa and let out a low sigh, easing up a bit now that his brother had left. But the doctor remained fixed in position in his red velvet arm chair. He had never imagined Sherlock to be ticklish. But, then again, the man had always been full of surprises. What's one more to add to the list?
His gaze traveled over the expanse of Sherlock's outstretched body and made him wonder where else he was ticklish. Mycroft had said that anywhere close to his bones was good so...his ankles, perhaps? His spine maybe? But where had that last place been? Where was that third spo-
“No.”
John looked up, startled. “Sorry?”
“I know what you're thinking and the answer is no.”
“But I didn't even ask anythi-”
“Yes, but you were thinking it, and the answer is still no.”
“Why not?”
Sherlock sighed in a most exasperated tone, in a way similar to that of a parent explaining to their child that an electrical outlet was not a fork sharpener. “Because, it is childish and stupid and embarrassing and I don't like people touching me in the first place, much less in this way.”
“Come on, Sherlock, don't be like that. Everybody's ticklish at least a little bit. It's what makes you human.....”
“John! J-John!!! Kn-knock it off!!!” Sherlock batted away John's hands that were now prodding at his ribs, digging in between each individual bone and causing him to choke on the laughs that he was trying so desperately to keep down in his chest. “John! I sa-ha-ha-haid kn-o-ho-hock it o-oh-off!!!!”
John grinned down at the panting man and moved his hands down to Sherlock's knees, holding himself up on them. “Why? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He gave them a quick squeeze, causing Sherlock to gasp and suddenly clench his thighs together tightly. John didn't notice.
“John....I swear...if you don't get your hands off of me....right now....”
“Oooo, threatening, are we? That's not very good, Sherlock. You remember what Mycroft said, don't you? If you were ever giving me a lot of trouble all I'd have to do is call...” He danced his fingers over the tops of Sherlock's knees and gently brushed them over the ends of his thighs as well. Sherlock cringed and squeezed his thighs tighter. John still didn't notice.
“John....please.....don't....”
“Why not? You are being more difficult than usual, and that's saying something. And, I mean, clearly I....must've struck a......a chord with you.....because you don't normally......say....please....”
John noticed.