Psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent

[moosejuice]

AMBIGUOUS SIBLINGS There's nothing wrong about loving your brother or sister; in fact, a deep bond between siblings is healthy and ideal. But when does closeness stop being a wonderful thing and start being...off? Most people would say your and your brother or sister are just very, very close, perhaps a little co-dependent, yet that's understandable, perhaps, if the two of you have been through the wringer. Still, there a whispers that your relationship is more blurry than properly familial. Is that just a misunderstanding, because you've only had each other for for so long others wouldn't understand how you've lived, or is their some truth to their suspicion? Comment with your character, preferences, info, etc. Assumed relatives AU will probably work best for ease of use. Reply to others. Thread. The nature of relationships are up to you.

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[fadingdarkness]

While it hadn't been much of a surprise to come home and find Sherlock waiting for him, it had been a surprise to find his twin brother moved into his home. A decent sized home in a poor end of town. The house that had belonged to a pureblood witch and her muggle husband. They died childless and Spinner's End had been too perfect for Severus to pass up, especially as he could make all the needed repairs on his own.

Now it was a fortress, not easily found. In fact his parents and older brother had to specifically ask to be let in, though they rarely did. His home wasn't the most welcoming of places. Yet Sherlock always seemed to want to lurk about.

It had taken time, but he banished his twin's lab to the unused dining room, leaving the kitchen alone. Now, after his life had settled again, they were in the sitting room with a fire in the hearth, and the chess table out. Wizards Chess. Severus knew he won without great difficulty was because his method of playing had changed drastically since he and his twin last played.

"Mother floo'd this morning. She is worried. You should pop over for a visit soon."

[laterz]

To which Sherlock swats the air around his head, as if shooing a fly that were buzzing there, or perhaps the possibility of a guilty thought, concentrating on the board before him. It was always a low blow for the Holmes boys, brandishing their mother, mostly because it worked. Sherlock didn't appreciate it in the least.

"She knows I'm here - why would she be worried?"

It was a very subtle way of trying to flatter his twin, who had always been the more level-headed of the two of them. Sherlock liked games, though he disdained chess. Growing up with Mycroft, the humanized version of a calculator, he often lost. At least their mother, the other mathematical genius, had the good grace to let him win a few times when he first started. And with Sev, it'd always been more of an even keel.

Which was partially why he was playing now. Anyone outside of their family would have called Sherlock adequate which, stripped of the Britishisms, meant he was spectacular. Against more ordinary people. Mostly his strategy at that time revolved around dominating the middle ground, sacrificing pawns to make way for the higher point pieces to have more leeway, more offense if anything. He also especially liked wizards chess because it meant he could sit behind his laptop and multitask while calling out moves, though he'd paused in his browser searching now to study the board.

Playing chess was mathematical to Mycroft, but to Sherlock, it was playing the opponent. By the change of Severus' basic strategy, he was up on Sherlock a bit.

"Castle with left rook."

Pale eyes flicker to his twin as he seems to stretch and lounge back against the sofa, pulling his laptop up beneath his gaze.

"And that's all she's worried about, is it? Calling you to check up on me?"

Their mother worried about all of them, really, since they'd left the house, but their parents also tended to know the bare details of their lives from Mycroft. Even if no specifics had been given, their mother would have known Severus was daring into something dangerous. Even without their older brother's information, it wouldn't have been hard for a witch like their mother to look into Severus' reputation when he was at school - really, it'd only been Mycroft's word that kept her from sending howlers or trying to come over and cuff him for what sort of crowd he was running with now. Sherlock knew that, or rather, he'd observed it.

Sherlock was playing his opponent.