Well, well. It's time for another slash fic from the universe of Sherlock. Today's fic is brought to you by the joys of texting, awareness for the dangers of sexting and the lol-worthy idea (thanks, Zchocolatebunniezrulezworld) Enjoy!

Watson was writing on his blog, as usual, when his phone vibrated. Someone had texted him.

"Let's see who texted me," he muttered, picking up his smartphone and unlocked it. "Mycroft? What does he want now?"

Hello, John. It's me, Mycroft Holmes. Just texting you to say hi. Hi. –MH

Watson locked his phone, and resumed his blogging. That was odd. He never just says 'hi.' Watson thought to himself. He took a sip of coffee from his thermos, set it down, and was about to type when –

The phone vibrated. Sighing, Watson unlocked it to read the text he was sent.

John. It's Mycroft. Why didn't u txt me back? Lazy bastard. U know I love u, right? –MH

Watson looked flabbergasted. He was about to lock his phone yet again, when a stream of texts from Mycroft arrived on his phone.

Mycroft here. I like txting u. Y aren't u doing the same? I thought u loved me? –MH

Guess who, Johnny boy? Yep, me, Mycroft again. ILY ILY ILY –MH

John. I love you. Why aren't u txting me back? I am getting rlly horny anyway. Here r some photos of me in sexy poses. –MH

"What the fuck?"

Watson had no time to react. Mycroft's photos had made their way onto his phone. Watson nearly vomited at the sight – photo after photo of his flatmate's brother, reclining on a sofa wearing absolutely nothing but holding his umbrella in a suggestive position.

"Oh god, I'm going to be sick–"

More photos of Mycroft. Some were fully dressed (thank God,) and many were all naked, no umbrella at all. Watson vomited all over his desk. This was just too wrong on so many levels. At last, the photos stopped. One last text arrived:

LOL, hope u enjoy the photos. ILY BTW, how's the assignment I gave Sherlock going? –MH

Watson, still nauseous, wiped the vomit off his desk with Kleenex, then turned his phone off all the way.

The funny thing was, Watson found, was that, in a tiny, tiny part of him, he really, really liked the photos.