Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John woke up with a headache blooming behind his eyes –he’d gone out for drinks with Greg, Sally and Mike after his divorce was finalized.  He refused to open his eyes knowing that the light would only increase his suffering, so instead he tried to remember where he was and how he got there. John recalled Sherlock being away on a case, so he wasn’t at Baker Street, and the soft bed he was laying on definitely wasn’t Mike’s lumpy couch.  The doctor attempted to open his eyes but hissed and reclosed them as they first touched the light. While he reopened them, slowly this time, he remembered Molly picking up Greg and decides he must be in Sally’s guest room.  However once his eyes adjusted to the blinding brightness, he spotted a familiar watch on the nightstand across from him.

John bolted upright, which caused the pounding in his head to worsen beyond imagination, and he picked up the watch while repeating one phrase in his mind.

Nononononononono

As he flipped over the watch and read the inscription, John felt the contents of his stomach rush into his mouth.  He glanced around with wide eyes before spotting a trashcan in the corner.  Kneeling over it, John let himself heave bile and beer out of his system.

How could he have been so stupid?! John berated himself silently.

He went back to re-examine the watch and this time he noticed the pain reliever and glass of water that had been placed beside it. With little hesitation he took the pill and chugged back the water, which helped to wash away the taste of vomit from his mouth. After a few deep breaths John sat on the bed and looked at the engraving once more.

The beginning of forever

        xoxo, John

Either someone was playing a cruel joke or John was about to have another person come back from the dead. 

The sound of dishes clattering outside the room, followed by light footsteps, interrupted his thoughts.  John became aware that he was only in his pants and a t-shirt and he contemplated wrapping himself in the sheet. Before he could decide, the smell of toast and coffee flooded the room as the door opened.

“You’re awake.”

“You’re alive,” John replied.

Jim chuckled and put a tray of food on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, “Surprise, Johnny-boy.”

John jumped up, only to be reminded of his hangover. He sat back down and glared up at the Irishman, “You took a bullet to the face.”

“Yes and Sherly jumped off a building.”

“You strapped a bomb to me!”

Jim crossed his arms and scowled, “You broke up with me.”

“You told me my new flatmate was your enemy and that you were the mastermind behind the world’s most dangerous criminal enterprise.”

“You wouldn’t move in with me once you realized you couldn’t afford more than that shite room the military gave you!” Jim was yelling and his nostrils were flaring.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I wanted you to! John, I needed you to.”

John opened his mouth to respond but Jim cut him off with a raised hand, “Let’s not fight. Just have breakfast with me, please.”

If Jim said please, John knew it was important to the man.  He felt the fight drain out of him and so John nodded and relaxed into a sitting position on the bed. Jim moved to sit beside him and soon the pair were sitting close enough that John could feel the body heat radiate off the man despite making no actual contact.

“Coffee for me, black, and tea for you, milk but no sugar.  Oatmeal and fruit for me, eggs and toast for you,” Jim beamed as he handed John a plate and a mug.

“Jim, you have an eidetic memory.  It’s not impressive that you remember how I take my tea,” John teased, the smile on his face giving away that he wasn’t serious.

The two ate in silence and sipped at their drinks. John desperately wanted to say something but Jim was being very agreeable and he didn’t want to spark a fight. In the past, before John knew the truth about Jim, the doctor never feared upsetting the Irishman. They’d bicker and Jim would go for a walk for an hour then return and they’d talk out whatever problems they were having. However, now John wondered how many people died because he had made the criminal angry.

“Congratulations.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your divorce,” Jim explained, “I didn’t like you being with such an unpredictably dangerous person.”

John snorted, “As opposed to you?”

Jim put down his drink and stared straight at John, “I only have one predictability and that is that I will always protect you from the world.”

The doctor held his tongue and took a long sip of his tea before eating the last bit of toast.

“Are you moving back into Baker Street?” Jim attempted to sound casual but John could hear the bitterness.

“Perhaps. Not fit for a child though so there’s that. Don’t want Beth getting hurt when it’s my weekend for her.”

“My flat is easily childproofed.”

John only hummed in acknowledgement before he glanced around and spotted his clothes folded on a chair, “You undressed me?”

“Not as much as I wanted to.”

The blond stood out of the bed, mindful that Jim was blatantly eyeing his arse, and moved to put on his clothes.

“Will you not stay?”

With a sigh, the fully dressed man turned to the criminal lounging in bed, “You said you’d protect me from the world, but who will protect me from you?”

Jim’s mouth flattened into a line as he grimaced and watched John leave.

Chapter Text

John had finished moving all of his things into the two bedroom apartment almost three days ago. He only had one more day off before he’d have to go back to work and all he’d manage to unpack was Beth’s room. Everything was perfectly placed, shelves were put up and her bedding was washed. Yet the rest of the house was surrounded by boxes and bags that John wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with. His kitchen only had a toaster and a tea kettle. He’d even been eating off of paper plates and cups.  When John heard a knock at his door he almost ignored it, not wanting anyone to see how little he’d done to move in.

“I know you’re in there and I know you haven’t unpacked,” Jim’s voice rang through the wood, “I brought food and I am willing to let you put me to work.”

John opened the door and eyed the bag hanging from Jim’s left hand, “Jim, you’re not going to win me over with takeout.”

“Course not, Johnny-boy. I’d have to take you on a real date and then you’d be mine again.”

“Not bloody likely.”

Jim rolled his eyes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “If there’s not a chance of me winning you back then there’s no danger in eating with me and letting me help you.”

John’s stomach growled and his eyes wandered over to his messy apartment, “Alright.”

Jim flashed his teeth in a gesture that John didn’t really consider a smile. It was almost as if the criminal wanted to eat John instead of the takeout.

Sherlock had darted out of the elevator shaft just as the car started to plummet downwards. John, who wasn’t able to make the jump soon enough, was certain he was about to die. Suddenly the car jerked to a stop, much too soon for it to have dropped the entire 17 floors.  John pulled out his phone and growled when he saw there was no service. He turned the brightness up and used it as a flashlight while he pried open the doors.  He jammed the heel of hit boot into the doors and created a gap just large enough for him to press his fingers into. With more strength than he’s needed to use in a while, John pulled the doors apart as far as he could. He managed to create a gap large enough to squeeze his body through; however, the car was caught between two floors and only the top four inches of the car was in line with open space. John growled again and let go of the doors in dismay. To his surprise the doors remained open and he felt his spirits lift.

“Sherlock!” he called out.

“John,” he heard the sign of relief as the detective approached.

Sherlock knelt down and looked through the opening, “Are you okay?”

“As long as the car holds, I should be.”

“I calculated with only your weight in the car it would only fall three floors. It fell six, which means it’s in worse condition than I suspected.  I’d give you 20 minutes before it falls the rest of the way.”

 John rolled his eyes, “That’s bloody helpful. Call Greg or Mycroft to get me out of here!”

Sherlock rose to his feet and glanced at his own phone, “There’s no service –probably because the entire building is concrete. I’ll have to go outside. I will return as soon as I’m done calling.”

With a swish of his coat, Sherlock sprinted down the stairs, leaving John alone once more. It could only have been three minutes, not nearly long enough for Sherlock to descend the stairs, make a call and then come back up, when John heard footsteps approaching the opening.  Two tanned and rugged hands became visible as a figure crouched down and began to rattle the top of the car.

“Oi! You stop that! The police are on their way and they’ll catch you if you do anything to me.”

Suddenly a blond man with a scar running down his cheek poked his head in view of the gap, “With all due respect, I’m more afraid of Moriarty than the police. Not gunna harm his precious Watson.”

The man’s face vanished as quickly as it appeared and the rattling on top of the car resumed.  Before John could ask who the man was, the lights flickered on in the elevator and it started to slowly move upwards. Sherlock was standing in the doorway when the elevator finally came into line with the floor, but the blond man was nowhere to be seen.

“Did you see him?”

“The suspect?” Sherlock perked up.

John shook his head and stepped off the elevator, “One of Moriarty’s.”

“Blond with a scar on his face?”

“Yeah,” John was taken aback that Sherlock knew the man.

“That’s Moran, his second in command. I gave him that scar.”

“Really?!”

“He had me at point blank with more than enough time and he was bleeding from where I’d scratched him with a pen. He introduced himself then walked away.  That’s when I knew Moriarty still had sentiment for you. And he calls me boring and ordinary… I’m not the one getting distracted by feelings!” Sherlock ended his rant slightly breathless.

“It bugs you that you don’t know how he faked his death and now you let the littlest things about him run you mad,” John grinned.

“I do not let him run me… enough we’re not here to discuss you’re love life.”

John followed his flatmate, though the grin never quite left his face. It was once Sherlock was tucked in at Baker Street and John was on his way to his apartment that he checked his voicemail.

Sorry I couldn’t save you in person.  I still consider this an act of my charm.  Well Daddy has to go too. G’night, Johnny-boy! Beep.

John’s day had been shite from the moment he woke up. The water in the building was shut down because some kids smashed up the plumbing in the basement of the apartment, which meant no shower or tea. His bicycle tire had been slashed and he ended up having to pay for a cab to take him to work. His work day had involved three rectal exams, two people vomiting on him and seven people sneezing in his face. John’s last case of the day was a very nasty case of herpes. The woman’s sores were pussing and oozing, yet she firmly denied anyway that she could have contracted an STI. She demanded that John do a full pap smear as well as swabs of the sores.

Needless to say, the pouring rain that greeted John once he made it outside only furthered the awful experience. The cab company told him it’d be about an hour for him to get a ride and he could walk most of the way by then.

As John was contemplating his choices, a red sports car pulled up in front of the door.  John watched the driver get out with an umbrella and through the rain he saw it was Jim.

“Coming?” the criminal asked once he reached John, who was standing under the protection of the entry door.

“Stalking is not a normal wooing technique, despite what you think,” John mumbled as he stepped under the umbrella and walked with Jim to the car. Who was he to turn down a free and needed ride?

“Good thing neither one of us is normal, hey love?” Jim reached up and stroked his free hand down John’s cheek before opening the car door to let his guest in.

John considered the fact that Jim held his hand the entire drive home a small price to pay for how much the ride saved him time and money.

“Really Jim?” John put a hand on his hip as the criminal walked past him at Tescos.

Jim looked up with a startled face before his mouth curled into a satisfied smirk, “Isn’t this a lovely surprise.”

“You expect me to believe that you didn’t follow me here?”

Jim held up the basket in his hand, which held a pineapple, grapes and three boxes of crackers, “Nope just grabbing snacks for a trip I’m taking.”

“Where are you going?” John was embarrassed at the speed he asked the question.

The Irishman stepped in close and moved his things from his basket into John’s cart, “Canada. Only for a few weeks, but Moran will be looking out for you still.”

“I don’t need babysitting and get your things out of my cart.”

“It’s silly for me to carry them separate since I’ll be walking with you while you finish shopping.”

John gave Jim a long look and finally decided it was better to not make a scene in the grocery store closest to his apartment, “Fine.”

Jim added a few of his favorite foods to the cart and told John to keep them in case he came around to visit. If the thought of Jim spending more time at John’s apartment made his pants tighten slightly, Jim was gracious enough not to point it out. Jim ended up paying for all of the groceries and even packed them into his car and drove John to his apartment. John remembered how domestic he and Jim were becoming before the criminal announced his sordid career. 

John gave the Irishman a chaste kiss on his cheek once the two had finally reached his apartment, “Have a safe flight, Jim.”

John’s heart was attempting to break free of his ribcage as he pulled on his sweater for the tenth time. He hadn’t felt this nervous about something since the birth of Beth. He paced through his apartment while he waited for the phone call that would let him know that Jim was downstairs waiting for him. Jim’s business in Canada took almost two months and John realized how much he’d became accustomed to the man randomly appearing in his life. So when Jim showed up at his door three days ago and asked John to go on a real date with him, the doctor found himself agreeing.  Jim told him to dress as usual and that he’d pick him up at quarter after seven. It was only six thirty and John had been letting his anxiety build since six.

Suddenly a knock at the door pulled him from his rambling thoughts. When he opened the door, Jim stood in a pair of jeans, not as tight as the ones from Bart’s, and a cardigan.

“I would’ve been here at six so you didn’t have any time to worry but traffic was horrid.”

“I wasn’t worrying.”

Jim simply raised an eyebrow and reached out to tug at the same spot on John’s sweater that the doctor had been pulling on moments before.  The Irishman grabbed John’s hand and the two walked to a pub down the street.  Somehow John managed to convince Jim to have a wing eating contest and they ended up with sauce all over their fingers and mouths, but Jim was satisfied with his victory.

“I’ve never eaten a wing in my life and I still can eat them faster than you!” he teased.

As Jim smiled through sauce around his mouth, his eyes shone with glee, and he looked more beautiful than John had ever seen him.

“I don’t understand,” John interrupted the moment.

“Understand how I’m amazing?”

“No,” John held eye contact to show Jim he was serious, “How you can be this charming, funny and wonderful man and still be an evil human. You don’t seem evil right now.”

“Do you think Sherlock is evil?” Jim queried.

John’s eyebrows furrowed, “Course not but he’s on the side of the angels like you say.”

“Sherlock has two parents that loved him, a big brother that looked out for him and Redbeard. I had a mentally unstable mother and bullies that no one protected me from. I’m damaged goods, Johnny-boy. But that’s what you like, you like people who need you and that you can better. That’s how you ended up with Sherly and Princess Assassin-”

“-Princess Assassin!” John interrupted, he sounded scandalized.

“She has a much darker name where I used to work, I thought this was better.”

“Was Carl that bad?”

Jim recoiled for a moment, “You remembered from the shoes. He once held me down and punched me in the gut until I urinated myself. Then he drug me out of the locker room and forced me to show all my peers. He used to bike past my house and throw rocks at the windows which would cause my mother to start having screaming fits.”

John placed his hand over Jims, regardless of the wing sauce over his fingers, “Will you let me try and help you?”

“You already have, love.”

After their date, Jim walked him to his door and John gave him the briefest of kisses. It was when John was alone on his couch that he started to realize that Sherlock and Jim truly were the same person, only altered by circumstances. He imagined his life if Sherlock had ended up as broken as Jim and he felt his chest ache. John vowed he’d do anything to keep his Jim sane. His Jim.

John was tickling Beth when he heard the knock at his door. He carried her on his hip and went to open the door. Jim stood on the other side with a confused look on his face.

“You had her last weekend.”

“Mary and her boyfriend wanted to go to a festival and I wasn’t on call this weekend so I said I’d take Beth.”

“Oh,” Jim looked disappointed before he plastered on a large grin, “Later this week then.”

John watched as Jim went to turn back down the hall, “We’re not doing much. I made mac and cheese, there’s leftovers. Beth’s just starting to walk, it’s pretty cute. And-”

“I’d love to stay,” Jim cut him off and this time he wore a sincere smile.

John stepped aside and let Jim make his way to the living room. The first time that Beth toddled towards Jim, the Irishman flinched and awkwardly patted her.

“Sherlock was exactly the same way with her,” John laughed, “You’re fearless geniuses and all it takes is a child to terrify you.”

Jim chuckled and looked at Beth, who was now putting her socks in her mouth, “I like her.”

“That’s good cause her daddy likes you,” John watched as Jim’s eyes widened at his words.

With a small grin, Jim reached over and gave John a kiss.  The kiss didn’t last long as Beth started pulling on Jim’s shoes, trying to get to his socks. He picked her up, trying to be careful with the precious thing that was half of John.

“Here,” John said as he guided Jim on how to hold her and rock her in his arms.

The two men spoke in hushed whispered as the young girl began to fall asleep; her cheek was pressed against Jim’s Westwood and a small trail of drool darkened the fabric. Her tiny fist curled around the bottom of Jim’s tie and suddenly the thought hit the criminal, He wanted this. He wanted this more than anything he’d wanted in his life.

Chapter Text

Jim pinned John down by his wrists -although they both knew John could break the hold if he wanted to. Instead the doctor arched against Jim’s mouth as the criminal bit at his clavicle. Jim didn't stop teasing the skin with his teeth until a large red mark bloomed there. He traced the edges of John’s scar with his tongue and switched his grip to hold his captive’s wrists in one hand. His now free hand drew patterns down John’s chest as it moved downwards to his pants. John's cock looked as if it ached from the way it strained to break through the small article of clothing. Jim cupped him through the fabric and squeezed the hardened flesh gently.  

"Tease," John gasped out as he felt his cock twitch.  

Rather than answer, Jim smirked and sucked at the wet spot on his partner’s pants. He then pressed kisses over the thin cloth before pulling it down and flicking his tongue over the exposed head.  

Jim struggled to reach up and hold John down so he opted to dig his short, but sharp, nails into the tanned thigh as he sucked John down.  

The doctor started to thrust his hips into the wet, warm mouth but each time Jim would release his thigh and tug at John’s balls. Rather than stop the arousal that he felt, it only caused him to grow harder in Jim's mouth.  

Soon enough Jim was losing his patience and wanted John to lose his mind while Jim was over top of him- controlling him.  

The Irishman crawled up his lover’s body and slipped the right nipple in his mouth while he reached a hand between them.  

"Here," John gasped, "Let me." 

Jim allowed John to pull the plug out of his arse as it became his turn to tremble. John reached for the lube, which was balance precariously on the edge of the bed, and he began to slick up his cock with more than just Jim's saliva. Before he could finish, Jim had once more pinned him down by the wrists and began to sink onto his prick.  

John threw his head back as Jim began to ride him hard and brutally.  Jim’s arse was even hotter than his mouth and the way his muscles clenched around John made the doctor shudder with excitement.  It was a fast pace that involved Jim alternating between tugging John’s hair and wrapping a hand around his throat. John attempted to take control by grabbing the smaller man’s hips, but Jim tightened his grip on John’s throat until the doctor started to see spots. The lack of oxygen followed by the rush of adrenaline was enough to cause John to cry out, scrunch his face and empty himself into Jim.  

Jim continued to rock until John’s cock became too soft to stay inside. Then he guided the blond lower into the bed and climbed over his face.  

John opened his mouth but had little energy to do anything else. Jim guided himself into John’s mouth and fucked the pliant hole. John’s cum dripped out of Jim and began to make a mess on the Irishman’s thighs and some even landed onto John’s chin.  The sight of John being destroyed by Jim made his balls draw tight to his body and he pulled out and added to the mess on his partners face.  

John gave a soft groan of annoyance that turned to a moan as Jim began to swipe up the mixed cum with his tongue and allowed John to suck it off.  

Once John had been fed everything, Jim grabbed the wet towel that he'd left on the night table beforehand. The cloth was slightly cool to the touch but John enjoyed the feeling on his skin as the criminal gently cleaned him off.  Jim threw the cloth towards his bathroom and curled into John’s chest. He fell asleep to the sound of John’s beating heart and the feel of John tracing patterns on his back.  

When Jim woke up, only four hours later, he felt alive with energy. He poked at the bruise he’d left on John’s clavicle, just to watch the man flinch, before he wrapped himself in the sheet and went to leave the room. John grumbled in his sleep and rolled into the warm spot Jim left and the sight almost made the criminal wish he could stay. However, he hadn’t missed the distinct sound of someone making tea in the kitchen.

“Y’know it’s not safe to break into a criminal’s house,” Jim drawled once he saw Sherlock puttering about his kitchen.

Sherlock didn’t even look up as he searched through each cupboard and drawer he could see, “Former criminal.”

“Come now, you and I both know that’s not quite true.”

Finally the detective raised his head. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stretched himself to his full height before stalking towards the other, “John Watson is my dearest friend. I died for him, I killed for him and I will burn you worse than you could ever predict. I have Mycroft on my side and I’ve destroyed most of your former network. You will treat not only John, but Beth and Mary, like they are the most valuable things in the world. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim stared at Sherlock for a few moments before he began to laugh, “Sherly, John was my heart long before he became yours.”

“I’ve seen how you treat your things.”

“Truuuuue. If I ever harm John beyond repair or allow Beth or her mother to get hurt, I will put a real bullet through my brain.”

Sherlock returned the calculating stare before deciding he saw truth in the man’s words. He pulled out a single cup from the dishwasher and filled it with hot water before passing it to Jim. He spun to leave the room, his coat fluttering behind him, as Jim added a teabag to the mug.

When John awoke, nearly nine hours after his tryst with Jim, the empty side of the bed was cold and the sheet was placed gently on top of him. He jolted awake, remembering that he was supposed to meet Mary to pick up Beth, when suddenly he heard his daughter’s laughter. The noise became closer until the bedroom door opened and Jim was holding the toddler.

“Just like I told you, love,” Jim cooed to the little girl, “Your daddy’s awake.”

Beth clapped her hands and blew bubbles from her mouth before pointing at John and yelling, “Da! Da!”

The two joined John on the bed and he couldn’t resist sitting up and placing kisses on each of their cheeks. Jim turned his head and snatched a quick peck before letting Beth go to crawl around in the blankets.

“How exactly did you end up with my daughter?” John asked.

Jim grinned his mischievous smile, “I met Mary at your apartment and let her know you were fast asleep in my bed after a busy night of coitus.”

“Jim!” John groaned as he glanced at his daughter, “Not in front of Beth or my ex-wife, thank-you!”

“She said she’d have words with you when you dropped Beth off tomorrow, I guess you hadn’t told her you moved on to the former king of the criminal underbelly.”

“Did you ever employ her?” John was suddenly curious as to how well Jim and Mary really knew each other.

Jim laughed, “Of course not. She was much too unpredictable for me. She was more than famous for double crossing her employers.”

“How do I get involved with you people?”

Rather than answer, Jim kissed John and Beth’s cheeks before standing, picking up the young girl once more and speaking to her, “Let’s give your daddy time to change, okay love? Brunch will be here in seven minutes anyway. Do you like bacon?”

Beth pressed her finger to her nose and tried to imitate the oinking of a pig.

Rather than chastise Jim for teaching Beth such awful things, John admired the man’s arse as he left the room.

John fell back into his pillows and smiled at the roof, realizing he felt a genuine rush of happiness that he hadn’t felt since the first few months that Sherlock had returned.  He could get used to this feeling.

Chapter Text

To say Mary was furious was an understatement. John watched as his ex-wife ranted and paced, thankful that Beth was at Baker Street with Sherlock.

“Mary, it’s really none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?! John! You are living with literally the most evil man in the world,” she glared at him as her face grew pink with anger.

“And you are any better? Besides, he’s not doing… that anymore. Sherlock destroyed his network.”

Mary scoffed and rolled her eyes, “You really believe that Moriarty wasn’t rebuilding his network just as fast as Sherlock was destroying it? Love really is blind, and stupid apparently.”

“He doesn’t have time to be leading a criminal kingdom. He’s home when I leave and almost always home when I get back from work,” John crossed his arms and returned the look.

“Ask him, John. If he cares for you like you say he does, ask him,” Mary’s face softened a fraction, “And if he tells you what I know he will, I won’t say I told you so. I know it will hurt you.”

Her ex-husband relaxed his shoulders and uncrossed his arms, “You don’t know what he’s like.”

“Neither do you,” Mary whispered to John’s retreating back.

John left Mary’s apartment and rather than rush to Jim’s like he wanted, he returned to Baker Street to his daughter and best mate. When he got there, Sherlock was lying on the ground and hoisting Beth up into the air with the bottoms of his feet. He held her hands and was rocking her gently while making airplane noises. Beth giggled with laughter and it was only once her father joined in that Sherlock looked over with a stunned expression.

“Were you in your mind palace while holding my daughter in the air?” John asked incredulously.

“Of course I was, John,” Sherlock righted himself and let Beth toddle towards her father, “It’s the only way she doesn’t get into trouble while I think.”

John bent down and lifted Beth into his arms. He gave her kisses all over her round cheeks and onto the golden curls that covered her head. Before he could reply to Sherlock, the detective narrowed his eyes and spoke.

“She’s right.”

“Sorry?” John tilted his head in confusion.

Sherlock pulled himself from the ground, more gracefully than should be allowed, “Mary is right about Moriarty.”

“How do you even know- nevermind. When would he have time, Sherlock?”

“Haven’t you noticed? The dimensions of his place would leave an entire 20 square feet unused. Obviously he has a secret office.”

John gawked, “But you- you destroyed his network!”

“Yes but I didn’t make sure it stayed broken as I went. I failed to anticipate that Moriarty lived.”

Beth poked her finger at John’s noise and made oinking noises before continuing to giggle.  

“Sherlock…” John felt his heart racing and his stomach started to churn, “What do I do?”

“Moriarty will never stop. He loves the game as much as I do.”

“So I get him to play for the side of the angels,” John’s mind was racing to come up with an alternative.

Sherlock just stared before he grabbed his coat and left John and his daughter standing alone in the kitchen of Baker Street. With a sigh, John checked Beth’s diaper before bundling her into her coat and making his way to his own apartment for once.

As he pushed Beth’s stroller the twenty minutes it took to walk from Baker Street to his own place, John thought about everything Jim had put him through. Did less than a year of great memories really make up for the agonizing two years he spent thinking Sherlock was dead? And Jim did blow up an elderly woman and her entire apartment block… he was even willing to kill the little boy if it came down to that. Was Beth truly safe growing up with someone as volatile as Jim?

John left his thoughts when he heard Beth start clapping and yelling, “Love, daddy! Love.”

Looking up, John saw Jim was standing outside of his apartment, holding a bag of groceries and a new dress for Beth.

“You’re here.”

“I missed you, it's been almost six hours” Jim winked before leaned in to kiss John’s cheek.

The criminal noticed the flinch the doctor gave at the action, “What’s wrong?”

John shook his head, “Now’s not a good time.”

Jim smiled his shark toothed grin and went to take Beth out of her stroller. Before he could, John placed a hand on his wrist, “She’s not feeling well. Best not to excite her.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed at the blatant lie as he looked back and forth from John to Beth, “So you say. Come over for dinner tomorrow, then?”

John nodded and started to make his way to the front door of his apartment when he heard Jim call, “Forgetting something?”

John’s fist clenched as he leaned in to kiss Jim. Once they separated Jim stroked John’s cheek and gave a genuine smile, “That was lovely, but not what I meant.”

With an outstretch hand, Jim passed the bag of groceries and the dress to John before he ducked down and gave Beth a quick kiss, “See you laters, love.”

“Bye, bye, love!” Beth said back before continuing to hit her doll onto the side of her stroller.

John watched as Jim walked down the street, whistling, before he finally felt he could move without calling the man to come back. He decided he'd spend his last hours with Beth at the park before he had to go back to Mary's and drop his daughter off.

“What?” Jim snarled, “You knew I’m a consulting criminal. Before you got back together with me!”

John had asked the Irishman the moment he walked in the door.  Jim admitted to the secret room, stating it was hidden to keep anyone dangerous from finding it, and confessed he was still running his empire. John immediately told his lover that they were over.

“I thought Sherlock had destroyed your network.”

“Well I can’t help it that you’re an idiot!” Jim’s eyes were dangerous and John felt himself wanting to back away; however, his pride stopped him.

“Charming, Jim.”

Jim stalked over to John and pushed the doctor by the hips towards the wall, “I won’t let you leave me again, Johnny boy.”

“You can’t control me!”

Jim growled and slammed his mouth onto John’s. The doctor flinched as he felt teeth dig into his lips but he returned the kiss with as much viciousness. He tore at Jim’s tie, almost choking the man in the process, before he was able to pull open the buttons on Jim’s pale green shirt.  Jim didn’t bother taking off John’s cardigan but rather pulled it down enough that he could press his teeth firmly against his neck and shoulders. John whimpered slightly as he felt the skin break under the onslaught of Jim’s teeth.  Pulling away, Jim’s lips red with John’s blood, the criminal snarled and pushed John to his knees.

The tenting in Jim’s pants made it obvious that the man was fully hard and John licked at the fabric before he tugged at Jim’s zipper.  Once the pants were pulled to Jim’s ankles, John began to bite at the soft, pale skin of Jim’s thighs while he let his warm breath ghost against the man’s testicles. John slowly traced his tongue against them and sucked each one into his mouth before he moved to lick a long stripe up Jim’s leaking cock. The taste of Jim drove John crazy and he found himself swallowing the criminal in one quick movement. Jim threw his head back and gasped before his fingers tugged at John’s hair. His hips began to move as he forced himself against the blond’s throat. The moaning that John was doing while Jim was in the mouth caused the Irishman man to go over the edge. Jim pulled out and watched with half lidded eyes as he made a mess over John’s mouth and chin. John leaned his head against Jim’s hip and panted before realizing how much he ached against his own jeans.

Jim snatched a packet of lube out of a coat hanging in the closet next to them, before he lowered himself onto the ground and slid a finger inside. John watched with a lustful expression, while licking his lips clean of the mess, as Jim pushed a wet finger against his own tight, pink hole. The muscle clenched and then gave way to the pressure. Jim always complained that John was better at preparing him because his fingers were able to perfectly trace around his prostate. However, John loved watching the dark haired man prepare himself.

John noticed Jim’s cock jump and he buried his face against the base, feeling Jim’s pubic hair against his cheek as his drug his fingers up Jim’s legs. Once he reached Jim’s arse, he pressed one of his thick fingers between the two of Jim’s already in his tight hole.

John felt sharp nails clawing at his shoulders and he knew that meant Jim wanted him to hurry it along. He surged up and fed Jim another violent kiss before he lathered himself up in what was left of the lube. Before Jim could start his complaining, John lined up and buried himself in one swift motion. Jim dug his nails into John’s shoulders and held on as his prostate was stimulated with each thrust.

Eventually John pulled out and flipped Jim onto his hands and knees before he began to fuck him in earnest.  He pressed kisses to the knobs of Jim’s spine and reached a hand underneath to wrap around Jim’s returned erection.  Knowing Jim loved the feeling, John held the man down with his body weight as he grinding into the man repeatedly. He pressed his face into the crook of Jim’s neck as he gasped and moaned.

Soon the Irishman began to wriggled and tighten around John’s cock and the doctor felt his orgasm fast approaching. He pulled out and flipped Jim back over so he could wrap a hand around both of their cocks and devour Jim’s lips some more. John watched Jim’s face scrunch as he came. The slick wetness increased the slide of his hand and soon John was adding to the mess between them. John’s forehead glistened with sweat and he let himself cuddle into Jim’s chest for a moment as he caught his breath.

Jim began to wrap his arms around John but the doctor pulled away and began to pull up his pants.

“You’re not still leaving?” Jim asked, stunned.

“Sex doesn’t fix everything,” John felt foolish for even giving into the physical temptation of Jim.

As John made his way towards the door, Jim grabbed his wrist, “If you walk away from me again, I won’t forgive you.”

John felt his heart leap and his knees grow weak, but the soldier in him steadied his shoulders and shook off Jim’s grip, “Don’t come near my family. That includes Sherlock and Mary.”

He watched the same rage he’d seen in the pool, twist into Jim’s face before the man snarled. Jim looked more dangerous than anything John had ever seen, and the man managed to do that all while stark naked. Rather than face the fear, John rushed from the room and started to make his way home. It was only once he was standing outside Baker Street did he notice the tears covering his face.

Chapter Text

John shot up in his bed, a thin line of sweat covered his skin and the sound of gun shots and screams still rang in his ears. For the briefest moment he went to reach his hand out to feel Jim’s skin, but then he remembered it had been almost seven months since he told the man to leave him. John hadn’t heard anything of the criminal and John cursed himself daily for his stupidity.

Had he truly expected that Jim would not return to his work? And really, the only times that John knew Jim to kill for sport was when he was taunting Sherlock; the rest of his work was done with a goal in mind. There was no one who could ensure Beth’s safety as Jim could and the man had proven how much he loved the girl. Why had John let his ego interfere with his heart?

John lowered himself back into the pillow and rolled onto his side to stare at the changing numbers on his florescent clock. As he watched the light flicker and change from 3:12 am all the way to 6:40am, his only thought was how much he missed Jim.

Finally he had enough of his brooding and decided it was best he start his day early and hopefully keep his mind occupied on thoughts other than his mistake. John pulled on his dressing gown and made his way into the kitchen. Boxes of takeout covered every surface and half empty tea cups seemed to be littered throughout his apartment. Mary had taken Beth to France, Sherlock was forced to take a case from Mycroft, and work had forced John to take holiday time that he’d built up over the last half a year. His days were filled with tedious boredom and all the loneliness he’d been hiding away began to seep to the front of his mind.

With a sigh, John put on the kettle and began to round up garbage into a large, black bag. Once he’d cleared the mess and filled the sink with scalding water and all of his tea cups, he felt like he’d finally accomplished something. With a yawn he covered his mouth, only to feel four days’ worth of stubble. 

How did I let myself lose four days to laziness and sadness? John thought in shock.

Suddenly he felt himself surge with energy and he slammed back his tea, burning his tongue slightly, before he worked on pulling himself together. Before too long the apartment was cleaned, John had showered and shaved, and now he was working on a plan to find Jim and get the man to take him back.

Sebastian watched as Jim’s mood progressively got worse over the last four days. It had seemed like the man was getting over his feelings for the army doctor but then Jim started to watch the camera feeds outside of John’s apartment more closely.

“He’s not in danger,” Sebastian grunted, “We’ve got Theroux watching his door.”

Jim snarled, “Yes I know that.  It’s Theroux who’s informed me that John hasn’t left his apartment in the last four days. There have been people in and out of the building but I don’t know if any have gone to see him.”

“You think one of them might have killed him?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

Sebastian resisted the urge to smack Jim, “Then what’s the problem, boss?”

“Three of the unaccounted people have been women. What if he’s in there fucking one of them instead of what he should be doing?”

With a roll of his eyes Sebastian opted to play angry birds on his phone rather than pay heed to his deranged boss; however, he couldn’t help but make one last snide comment, “Why don’t you just win the man back rather than let someone else take him?”

Jim’s mouth twisted into a vicious smile before his face went back to a pout and he stormed away from the screen, “I already won him back once and it didn’t work. Fuck John Watson and his stupid heart.”

Neither Sebastian nor Jim saw the doctor make his way out of the apartment with a spring in his step and slight smile on his face.

“Excuse me?” Mycroft looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon, his mouth was pinched and his eyes looked wide with shock.

“You’re the next best thing to Sherlock and since I can’t contact him…” John trailed off before steadying his shoulders, “Besides you owe me. It’s your fault that I had to mourn Sherlock.”

Mycroft tapped his fingers once on his desk before replying, “No I believe that honour goes to the man that you’ve just asked me to help you track down.”

“Both of you, and Sherlock too. But Jim makes me happy.”

“Caring is not an advantage, John.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to justify being alone?”

Mycroft smirked and thought of Anthea who had been living with him for the last three years, “I’m not lonely.”

“Well I am. Please, Mycroft,” John’s voice was pathetic and so full of sincerity that Mycroft placed his fingers onto his temples before sighing.

“Yes, Dr. Watson, I will help you find and win back James Moriarty. But be warned, if you or him every attempt to hurt Sherlock intentionally or not-”

“-you’ll have us dealt with,” John cut him off, “Yes I know.”

With a nod Mycroft picked up his phone, “Anthea, if you would be so kind as to call in Mr. St. Laurent from sector five.”

It took less than fifteen minutes of John watching Mycroft scratch notes while scrolling through documents on his computer incredibly fast before Mr. St. Laurent walked in. John was stunned to see the same man with a raged scar across his face that helped him out of the elevator.

“You!” John jumped to his feet as St. Laurent, or rather Moran, pulled out a gun and pointed it at Mycroft.

“Don’t make me kill big brother Holmes, Watson,” the blonde growled.

Mycroft tutted, “Now Mr. Moran, this is no way to behave. John would just like to have words with your employer.”

“Isn’t he having words with you right now, Sir?”

“My brother’s report states he stabbed a man in the face with a pen and you show up after a month off with a wound from a pen across your face. Moriarty has yet to do anything truly upsetting for the British government and we would hate for that to change now.”

Moran lowered his gun and turned to snarl at John, “What could you possibly have to say?”

“Enough,” John returned the glare.

With one final look at John, Moran turned to Mycroft, “Permission to take the rest of the day off, sir?”

Mycroft gave one of his forced smiles, “Granted. Though do be reminded my brother is quite fond of Doctor Watson.”

“Noted, sir.”

Moran gave a sharp nod towards the door before stalking out and hardly waiting for John to follow. The doctor gave a quick thanks to Mycroft before rushing after the other man.

“Boss?” Moran’s voice was laced with an emotion Jim had never heard from the man before —fear.

Rather than turn around and look up to see what had happened, Jim leaned his head back against the chair and began to observe.

He could hear the breaths of someone else with Sebastian but there was no scent of gun oil but rather the smell of geraniums and arbutus flowers. Sebastian’s breathing was even and steady while the other’s breath seemed to catch occasionally, meaning Sebastian wasn’t injured and it was the other party that had the most to lose. There were no active kill orders so it wasn’t someone attempting to buy off the ending. Jim knew it was John standing with Moran.

When Jim turned around he was greeted by the sight of John Watson holding a bouquet with slightly pink cheeks.

“John,” Jim motioned for Sebastian to leave them.

Once the door had closed behind Moran, John took a deep breath before speaking, “Jim, I let my ego and the side of me that wishes I weren’t a military man ruin what we had. I knew you were still active in the criminal world; it’s stupid of me to even claim otherwise. You’re Jim Moriarty. You’re as smart as Sherlock and you need the thrill of controlling something to keep your mind from rotting. I understand that and I’m willing to work with that, because you make me happy. You, Beth and Sherlock are three people I can’t imagine living without. These last months have been torturous and now I’m here hoping you’ll forgive me.”

At least that’s what John would have said if Jim hadn’t read every word from the way the man was standing, to the flowers in his hand to the way he parted his hair. Before John could even say the first word of his speech, Jim had rushed in front of him and was pressing kisses against his cheeks.

“Of course I forgive you,” Jim whispered as he licked his way from John’s collarbones to his cheekbones.

John dropped the flowers and raised his shaky hands to hold Jim’s head and lead him into a kiss. The pair pressed closed mouth kisses all over the other until they pulled away breathless.

“I can’t do this again,” John panted into Jim’s shoulder, “I can’t stand to be away from you.”

“Marry me.”

“What?” John pulled away with large eyes.

“Don’t be dull and make me repeat myself. If we do this than neither can just walk away from the other.”

“What about Beth?”

Jim rolled his eyes and pressed a few more kisses into John’s flushed mouth, “If you haven’t realized that the only person I adore more than you is her, then you are an idiot.”

John held Jim close, squeezed him almost too tight before he answered, “Yes.”

Jim started to lead John towards the couch in the adjoining room when the doctor pulled away, “Weren’t you working?”

“It can wait,” the Irishman replied as he reached down and stroked John through his jeans, “I wasn’t working on anything that matters anymore.”

John laughed and let Jim guide him onto the couch and make quick work of his clothes. 

However, back in Jim’s office on the desk sat a spreadsheet reading John Watson. 

Number one on the list read:

Operation Persephone

•          M&B to France
•          SH via Iceman to undisclosed location
•          JW holiday time
•          Approximation 4-6 days
•          Insist on documentation

Of course Jim shredded the spreadsheet while John napped post coital on the couch. It wouldn’t do for John to know how perfectly he played into Jim’s plan. Once the last bit of evidence was disposed of, Jim crawled back over top of his fiancé and spooned up behind him on the couch.

“I love you,” Jim traced the words onto John’s good shoulder with his tongue.

“I love you too, Jim.”