Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mmmh, you’ve gotten so much better at this.” Sherlock frowned a little at Jim’s response to being pulled closer under the covers they were sharing.

“You’re implying I used to be bad at this.” With Jim, nobody could ever be sure where a conversation was going since the criminal had a talent for surprises. After this statement though, Sherlock couldn’t help but think back in an attempt to remember any previous criticism. He couldn’t think of any time Jim had complained.

“Not bad, just very… Repressed?” The criminal snuggled further against his chest, apparently not considering this to be a very serious discussion.

“I’m not repressed.” Sherlock didn’t start thinking about whether Jim had a point until after he’d contradicted him.

“Weeeeell, you are though? A bit? Or you were at least.” He could feel a reassuring kiss against his chest and started to think.

It was true that their dynamic had shifted compared to the first time they had met like this. The first time had definitely not been the best now that he had something to compare it to. It hadn’t been horrible either. Both of them had been rather satisfied from what Sherlock could remember, but they hadn’t talked much and he had been terribly unsure of what to say or do. There was a very clear memory of waking up in Jim’s arms and not knowing whether he should move or not, so he had stayed still until the criminal had finally asked him whether he was okay. Sherlock had been okay. The slight pain he felt when he did finally move was nothing unexpected and not as bad as he would have thought anyway. His main problem at the time had been the realisation that he’d had sex with Jim and said a lot of nonsensical things during it. There had been moaning and swearing and possibly some begging if saying the word ‘please’ already counted as such. The whole process had been very unlike him, so although he had enjoyed the sensation, he was worried about the implications. Jim had seen him in a state that was so different from what he was usually like. Sherlock couldn’t be sure they would ever be able to look at each other in the same way again. Surely, having seen Sherlock naked and asking for more in an incoherent way would change the way Jim looked at him. Then there had been the situation itself. Both of them lying in bed together, he hadn’t even been sure how long he’d slept. During the act itself, he hadn’t been able to focus long enough to think about what he was even doing. After his nap, he hadn’t been sure whether he was supposed to get out of bed and leave or not. He’d wanted to touch Jim again or to kiss him. 

Looking back, Sherlock realised how patient Jim had actually been with him that night. Repeatedly telling him it was all fine and that he could feel free to kiss the criminal if he felt like it. He couldn't quite remember how long it took him to get used to it in the end. These days he didn’t even think at all when he pulled Jim closer for a hug. Sometimes they would ask each other if the initiated hand-holding or hugging was alright, but as far as he could remember there had never been a negative answer to those questions. It was highly impractical to have Jim sitting on his lap when he was trying to do research for a case, but he didn’t mind. Sofas were also too narrow for two grown men to lie on them together, but Sherlock wasn’t bothered by it. Having Jim close to him felt good, he wasn’t going to say no to that so he could watch TV more comfortably.

One time they’d been in front of the television with a random documentary on in the background and when one of the experts in that had started talking about how people could be ‘touch starved’, Jim had given him an unambiguous look. Sherlock hadn’t really responded to that, but he figured there was a grain of truth to the theory. Apart from Mrs Hudson’s occasional hugs, he didn’t have much physical contact with other people that went past shaking hands during introductions. When he spent time with John or Molly, they would usually sit apart and talk. Hugs were very rare. 

Before spending so much time with Jim he had never thought about this and if he had, he probably would not have seen any issue with it. Now that he was lying in bed with the consulting criminal practically glued against his side, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Chapter Text

Sherlock didn’t really second guess his actions until the door to Jim’s flat opened and the criminal gave him an equally sleepy and confused look. This, in combination with the criminal’s oversized black t-shirt and grey sweatpants made him realise that he hadn’t bothered to check the time before making his way across the city for an impromptu visit.

“We haven’t seen each other in ten days.” He stated in response to Jim’s questioning look.

“Yeah… You were on a case…” Hearing Jim’s voice brought him to the conclusion that the criminal had most likely been half asleep when he’d been disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell.

“Yes, solved it this morning and had some further research to do with the mould-” He stopped, assuming that Jim wasn’t interested in the particular details of the experiment right now.

“-anyway. Realised I hadn’t seen you in a while.” Sherlock tried to look apologetic to which Jim lifted an eyebrow before motioning for him to get inside. With the door closed behind them, the criminal lazily draped an arm over Sherlock’s shoulder to pull him closer for a kiss. Unlike most of their kisses, this wasn’t the result of uncontainable passion. It was slow and Sherlock had a feeling that Jim might fall asleep in his arms soon. He couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t a bad thing though. It didn’t change anything about that feeling that he always got when he first hugged and kissed Jim after they hadn’t seen each other for a while. He’d never been able to think of anything that compared to it either– a strange mixture of relief, bliss and comfort. One day he’d spent several hours trying to mentally compare it to the feeling of getting high, but he’d come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the same. 

“Just for the record-” Jim said when their lips parted. “-you missed me.” Sherlock pulled his lips into a thin line and frowned at the criminal in his arms. He should probably be happy that Jim wasn’t annoyed about the late night visit, but it was hard not to get defensive when he was being subjected to that smug smile he was so familiar with.

“It merely occurred to me that-”

“You couldn’t bear another hour without me, yes.”

“-that I should visit my boyfriend before he gets upset with me.” One arm still wrapped around Jim’s waist, he started walking towards the sofa, giving the criminal no choice but to follow.

“I can’t be upset with you when I’m asleeeeep.” Jim whined before pushing Sherlock into the pillows and climbing into his lap.

“You say that…” For some reason he was rather certain that Jim was more than capable of holding grudges in every state of consciousness.

“Sheeerl…” Jim buried his face in Sherlock’s neck now.

“How late is it exactly?” He could hear a soft groan coming from the criminal. 

“Past three.”

“Oh.” Of course he’d realised that it was dark outside, but that wasn’t really an indication for how late it was during the winter months anyway. Perhaps he should have checked the time rather than going through all the details of his case again when he’d been in the back of the cab.

“I don’t mean to discourage you from visiting though. Bit earlier would be nice is all…” Jim had seemingly found a comfortable position and was possibly mere seconds away from falling asleep.

“I’ll try to remember that for next time, but for now-” He pushed himself into a sitting position, forcing the criminal to sit up as well.

“Hateful, absolutely despicable…” Jim complained and looked at him with his eyes barely open at this point.

“Bed.” As nice as it usually was to spend time on Jim’s sofa during what the criminal called ‘movie nights’, Sherlock had no intention to spend the night being used as a glorified pillow with his coat and shoes still on.

“‘m too tired…” He made a quick mental note about how different Jim’s complaints were from those that he had heard before. Usually there was a note of sarcasm in the criminal’s voice, but tonight he was on the whinier side of things. A very clear difference between an actual complaint and one that was only meant to aggravate Sherlock then. 

He somehow managed to drag Jim off the sofa and into a standing position.

“Alright, come here…” Sherlock placed Jim’s arms around his neck before putting his hands on the back of the criminal's thighs. One rather unenthusiastic little jump later, Jim had his legs wrapped around him and Sherlock had to come to terms with the fact that some things might look easier in movies than they actually were. Carrying a grown man was not as effortless as people made it look and he could only imagine how much the criminal was enjoying this; meaning he’d probably want to be carried all the time now. Despite the struggle, Sherlock somehow managed to make it to the bedroom where he made one last effort to drop Jim onto the mattress as gently as possible. 

“You sooooo missed me.” Even with his eyes closed, Jim managed to look smug.

After quickly kicking his shoes off and getting out of his coat, Sherlock laid down and leaned in for another kiss before the criminal would fall asleep. It truly did always feel a bit like their first kiss. 

“Maybe a little…”

Chapter Text

Sherlock watched as the water hit the beach over and over again, slowly retracting back only to return with seemingly more force each time. The terrace he was sitting on was offering the perfect view over the beach and surrounding area. Around him, people were chatting away over drinks and dinner. He had chosen the table closest to the railing and had only ordered an alcohol free drink that was sitting in front of him with a silly little umbrella in it.

“‘This seat taken?” Someone asked casually from behind. Sherlock made a vague gesture towards the unoccupied chair without looking away from the beach.

“Quite the view.” The other man said after taking a seat; looking at Sherlock more so than the landscape.

“Could be worse.” Sherlock replied before finally turning around to look at the man. Jim was wearing a casual shirt with the top buttons undone, sunglasses dangling from it. 

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He asked the consulting criminal who was leaning forward to take a sip of Sherlock’s drink.

“Mmh… Not sure what you mean– This is good, I might get one of these.” Jim immediately looked around in the hopes of seeing a waiter.

“The roof? The snipers? The Yard trying to arrest me? Richard Brook ? Seriously Jim, don’t tell me all of that was necessary– You did it for your own entertainment.” He waved towards a waiter who had been serving drinks to the people at the table behind Jim and motioned for him to get a second drink.

“Oooh fiiine . It was fun. You should have seen your face when I showed up at that reporter’s flat– pure gold!” The criminal chuckled at the memory.

“Yeees. Very amusing.” He responded flatly.

“Oh c'mon Sherl, what did you expect? A quiet getaway? A boring job offer from the other end of the world that requires you to leave it all behind? You know it wouldn’t have worked.” Jim leaned back in his chair and waited. Sherlock knew the criminal was right. Nobody would have believed him if he’d made up a simple job abroad as an excuse to leave London for more than a few weeks. Mycroft least of all. 

He made a noncommittal grunting sound, not wanting to actually use words to tell Jim that he was right. 

“Mhm, I love you too.” The criminal said sarcastically before having another sip of Sherlock’s drink. He suspected there was more than just a joke behind the statement, but that was rather the point of their getaway plan. Time away from London and all the people they knew would allow them to figure out what they actually thought about each other. How they felt about each other. Sherlock corrected himself. Apparently sneaking around with an enemy without getting attached was not as easy as initially expected and they had found themselves in a rather uncomfortable position where they no longer wanted to kill each other. Sherlock had almost felt guilty when he’d solved a case in relation to a particularly well executed crime Jim had orchestrated. Meanwhile Jim had started to run out of excuses that he could tell his associates as to why Sherlock was still alive and thriving while all their plans had been ruined. It wasn’t sustainable and they had to figure out what they wanted to do about that. Only that would never work while they were kept busy with work and other people’s pleas to get rid of each other for good. So one day as they’d been watching the sun go up, they had decided to take some time away from it all in order to explore their relationship. The task had fallen to Jim since he was more familiar with the planning of such things. Of course the criminal had insisted that it would have to be a surprise, so Sherlock hadn’t had the opportunity to protest. Though thinking about it now, he couldn’t really come up with a better idea to get away either.

The waiter he’d waved to earlier walked up to them and placed another tall glass in front of Jim, pink umbrella included.

“Regrets?” The criminal asked before picking up his own drink.

“Well… It does seem like I left a comfortable flat in London where the landlady brings me tea, only to end up on an island where some criminal is helping himself to half my drink instead of waiting for his own. And I doubt he’s going to pay for either of them.” He lifted an eyebrow at the man opposite him.

“Oh dear, what gave you that impression? This shirt is Valentino you know, I think I can afford my own drinks…” Jim smiled over the rim of his glass.

“Good to know, though I don’t particularly care for the shirt and predict it will end up on the floor before the night is over.” He didn’t take his eyes off the criminal, waiting for the reaction.

“My, my… No patience… Though I suppose that’s not really a complaint. I was so lonely on that private jet…” The criminal dramatically leaned his head from left to right. Sherlock almost scoffed at the statement. While Jim had fled the country in the luxury of a private jet, he had travelled by ferry, train and other rather uncomfortable methods of transport before finally arriving at their destination. He felt a gentle kick against his leg and looked at the criminal.

“You know we don’t have to do this anymore now…” Jim said and bit the inside of his lip. Sherlock lifted the corner of his mouth into a gentle smile. 

“Mh. I suppose not. But I don’t think I will manage to only ever be nice to you. You’re a bit too aggravating for that.”

“Likewise!” They both had big smiles on their faces now. With the stress of the past weeks finally behind them, Sherlock couldn’t wait to see what it was like to have Jim around all day long with no need to hide or keep secrets. They hadn’t made any specific plans yet, but he couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t quietly sit around on an island for long. 

Chapter Text

“You haven't slept at home for a week.” Jim casually remarked on a Friday night. He and Sherlock were sitting on the sofa together and the consulting detective was reading through some notes for a case. Jim, sleepy after a long day at work, was leaning against his side. During Sherlock's first visits, they had never done this. There had always been some sort of activity to keep them busy, but after one week it seemed silly to come up with new things to force the semblance of a special occasion. Jim was tired, Sherlock was busy with work and they'd both realised they could spend time together for no particular reason. 

“Mmh. John moved in with his fiancée. Didn't I mention that?” Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows trying to remember whether he had shared this information with Jim or not. 

“Yeeees, but I didn't realise that meant you're moving in with me.” Jim smiled into the fabric of Sherlock's hoodie. 

“Don't be silly, I haven't moved in with you. I've been at Baker Street every day.” Jim watched as the detective crossed out a whole paragraph on the document in his lap. 

“Mhm. Because I would spank you if you started bringing your clients to my flat.” He shuddered at the mere thought of strangers walking in and out of his private space as they pleased. Sherlock may be alright with people walking into his living room while he was drinking his morning tea, but Jim definitely wasn't. 

“Spank me, Jim? A year ago you would have threatened to stab me in my sleep and now all I get is a promise to get kinky?” The detective had a knowing smirk on his face now. A year ago that alone would have been enough to earn him a second death threat, but oddly enough Jim had started to find it quite endearing at some point. 

“Dead bodies are so messy. I prefer you like this.” He made a point to wiggle around a bit to make himself more comfortable.

“You just want to use me as a heater. Anyway, I can leave and sleep in my own bed tonight if you want.” Sherlock was still keeping his eyes on the work in front of him which currently consisted of several crime scene photos that were fascinating enough to catch Jim’s interest as well. The criminal thought about Sherlock’s offer while eyeing the closeup of the blood stains. Originally, the detective had visited him a week ago so they could spend the night together. After the news of Watson’s move, they had decided they might as well make a weekend out of it. Only then the weekend had ended and come Monday night, Sherlock was back at his doorstep with an overnight bag and some Italian takeout. The shift had already been obvious then: It wasn’t a thrilling date during which they chased each other around the city only to end up ripping each other's clothes off. It was a lazy Monday night in front of the telly that ended with both of them in their pyjamas as they fell asleep before midnight. Jim hadn’t bothered to complain then and he wasn’t now. Still, it seemed to be worth mentioning that the detective had seemingly developed an allergy to his own bed.

“You can’t keep me warm from your own bed.”

“Could get you a hot-water bottle.” Sherlock suggested casually before turning over the page and making some notes.

“How sweet of you. That will keep me perfectly warm when I get into bed. And then ten minutes later when it starts getting cold, you will be done in the bathroom and ready to take over.” He was leaving out the fact that he had a few more reasons than temperature to enjoy the detective’s presence.

“So you do want me to move in?” Jim watched as Sherlock insulted the Yard’s work in his notes before focusing on the question. He’d never really considered sharing his space with someone permanently. If anything, he’d always enjoyed having the place to himself and not having to deal with the chaos of a family or flatmates. Sherlock wasn’t like other people of course. Sherlock would bring a whole different level of chaos. Sherlock would also be around all the time– and Jim couldn’t deny that he was a bit greedy, so that point actually sounded very appealing. He could only assume that things would change even more if they lived together, considering that one week had already brought them to this rather domestic situation. For Jim, the potential for changes was equally scary and exciting. 

“I think I would like that, yes.” This was finally enough to make Sherlock look up from his work. 

“You’re being serious?” He had fully turned his head to look at Jim, who was still snuggled firmly against him.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to move in.” Jim tried to look unbothered. Now that he had suggested it, a part of him was already looking forward to spending every day with Sherlock. Giving it a second thought now, he realised it was a rather ridiculous idea.

“No, I know. It just– You realise moving in together would… Imply things.” The detective pushed his case folder to the side.

“ Things ? Sherlock, we've been having sex for over a year now, I think you can be a bit more explicit when you’re talking to me.” Seeing the newly vacated spot on the detective’s lap, Jim shifted in his spot until he could comfortably lean back and come to rest on Sherlock’s legs. 

“Not things of sexual nature. There’s no financial need for a shared flat, so should we decide to live together it would imply that we–” Sherlock hesitated for a few seconds as he looked down at the consulting criminal in his lap. “like each other.”

Jim bit the inside of his lip. Neither one of them had ever said it out loud, but he had thought about it quite a lot. Considering their first night together had consisted of a lot of pushing and shoving and taunting each other, it was difficult to justify how Sherlock was gently stroking Jim’s hair now if their feelings hadn’t changed.

“Would it? Hm.” Jim shrugged.

“Yes.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes, seemingly waiting for a sarcastic remark.

“Ooooh so what ? Do I have to say it, hm?” Jim watched as Sherlock’s lips slowly turned upwards into a self-satisfied smile.

“Go on…” Of course the detective wouldn’t say no to that.

“Urgh, fine. You’re not as annoying as the other seven billion people on this planet. Well, you’re worse in some ways, actually– but I’m a bit of a masochist sometimes so that’s a compliment!” He added when Sherlock rolled his eyes at him. “You’re handsome, dress well, smell good and keep me warm so I could do a lot worse. Is that what you want or do you want to hear how my knees feel like jelly every time I look into your eyes because they’re the colour of the ocean and I’ve never seen a bluer blue and there are bugs in my digestive tract and I need you to drop to your knees with a shiny ring before the end of the year so we can have the most spectacular wedding the city has ever seen?”

“I need you to shut up, really.” Sherlock’s eyes had been growing increasingly wider with every word.

“Fine, but you’re missing out on there part where I gush about your big co–”

“Yes, that’s quite alright, I’ve actually heard that one before.” They were both quiet for a minute.

“I’m not entirely sure how I will explain this to– Well anyone…” Sherlock said after a while.

“Oh, you know… Met Jim for a couple of drinks some time ago– Just to find his weak spot and take down his network. Turns out his weak spot is tall, handsome consulting detectives, so I decided to thoroughly fuck him at least once a week for a year. Still got no clue about his network, but he no longer wants me dead– yay! Also we’re kind of sentimental about each other now, you know, all those hormones… There was no helping it, really. Moving in with him now. Just makes things easier. He did not enjoy climbing out of my bedroom window that one time when John came home early.” Jim grinned up at Sherlock who was eyeing him with a raised brow.

“I might have to rephrase that a bit, but I suppose that is the summary.” The detective sighed.

“Mmmh… Though I’m sure Mycroft would make a very funny face if you said it like that. Oh well, he’s going to make a funny face either way.” He absentmindedly pulled on the string of Sherlock’s hoodie.

“He will disinherit me.” Sherlock didn’t look too bothered by the realisation.

“That’s alright, your future husband can provide for you.” 

“If you joke about marriage one more time I will have to assume that you mean it and propose to you in front of a huge crowd so all your business associates can see. There will be balloons. And doves.” Jim couldn’t help but admire Sherlock for the threat.

“Fine, I’ll behave. For now…” He pushed himself up so they were at eye level with each other. “But… Yes, you can move in. And if that implies a bit of sentiment then… That’s not unfounded.” He added softly. Sherlock seemed to be at a loss for words for a few seconds.

“That’s– There is… Reciprocation for that.” 

Jim looked at the detective with narrowed eyes before deciding it was probably for the best to just lean forward and kiss him. This they had some practice in at least. 

Chapter Text

Sherlock stared at the chess board in front of him, trying to apply every brain cell to the problem that presented itself. A part of him felt hopeless. It was rather unlikely that he would come up with something at this point, but he did not want to admit defeat.

“Come ooooooon, this is getting ridiculous. I’m bored!” Jim moaned from where he was lounging in his chair. The criminal had been waiting for Sherlock to make a move for over an hour at this point and had grown increasingly restless.

“Just give me some time, I’ll just have to…” Sherlock couldn’t even think of anything clever to say at this point. He’d gone through every tactic he knew and had tried to come up with his own, neither of which would help him to win the game.

“Fine I-” The detective groaned in disgust. “I give up, alright?!” He leaned back in his chair, stretching as he felt the pain in his back from sitting hunched over the board for too long.

“You’re such a loser… Come on now, kiss me.” Jim quickly retorted from across the coffee table.

“Really? Is that all then?” Sherlock had expected a lengthy monologue about how it had been obvious from the start that Jim was going to win and whatnot. 

“Honey, I came over to make out with you. You’re the one who insisted on playing games you can’t win.” Jim answered lazily.

“Can win. I just haven’t had time to read the new book yet.” Sherlock motioned towards a book on the desk that promised to contain the most difficult chess strategies in the world.

“Fine, read your book if that’s what gives you hope in life. Not now though…” Jim got out of his chair now and walked around the table so he could sit on Sherlock’s lap.

“One day I’ll win.” Sherlock was simply unwilling to give up for good.

“Darling, look around. You’re already winning.” Jim motioned towards himself before leaning down and pressing their lips together.

Chapter Text

Half an hour after the alarm had gone off, Sherlock and Jim still found themselves in bed. Neither of them really knew why they had decided to get such a large mattress since half of it was now completely abandoned as the two consultants were almost piled on top of each other on the left side of the bed. Just like every day. Jim resented sleeping without Sherlock and Sherlock had gotten to a point where he wasn’t entirely sure how to sleep on his own anymore. Over the years he had gotten so used to holding Jim in his arms at night that being in bed alone made him feel a bit lost. Hugging pillows just wasn’t the same. Luckily there was rarely any reason for them to spend the night apart, so he didn’t have to worry about that.

By what he could tell from his warm cocoon of duvet and consulting criminal, it was a dreary, grey day just like the one before. There was no reason for them to get up early on the weekends when they spent time in their house outside of London, so Sherlock didn’t bother checking his phone and buried his face in Jim’s hair. A few minutes of soft, sleepy grumbling later, he opened his eyes in an attempt to stop himself from drifting back to sleep.

“Coffee in bed?” Sherlock suggested.

“Mmh, sure. Who’s going to get it though?” Jim mumbled without even bothering to open his eyes.

“The person who asks.” He smiled softly at the grumpy look on Jim’s face.

“Nevermind then.” Jim blinked against the light only to wiggle around a bit so he was comfortable again after staying still for too long. 

“I suppose I could go…” Sherlock already had a suspicion that Jim wouldn’t let him get out of bed for at least another hour or two.

“You’re not allowed to leave this bed.” Jim almost whispered against the fabric of his shirt. 

Of all the things that managed to fascinate Sherlock, a sleepy Jim Moriarty was probably his favourite. Not only was it a stark contrast to Jim in his usual form, but it was also something nobody else ever got to see. Even people who had worked for the criminal for a long time had only ever gotten to see the grumpy version that demanded caffeine and silence. Jim himself had admitted that nobody else had ever been privileged enough to share a bed with him and hold him for hours as he drifted in and out of sleep. Despite Jim’s penchant for being dramatic, ‘privilege’ seemed accurate enough in this case. It was a matter of trust and feeling genuinely comfortable around each other. Something that both of them hadn’t been very familiar with until they’d finally had a moment of realisation several years ago when they had accidentally fallen asleep in Sherlock’s bed after a lengthy conversation about beheadings in Medieval Europe. Neither one of them had expected to feel so at ease around another person and it had quickly turned into an experiment of sorts. In truth, they had both used the experiment as a pretence to spend more time together, kiss, touch and share a bed at night until they’d eventually given up and admitted that they liked each other an embarrassing amount. After that, there had been some time of uncertainty in terms of what the future would hold. As someone who got bored very quickly, Sherlock hadn’t been sure whether being in a relationship was something that would work for him. Spending time with Jim had been fascinating up until then, but surely living together would take away the mystery and make everything feel a bit dull after a few months. Only then, unexpectedly, things just started getting better . Suddenly they had shared routines and more inside jokes. With every week they lived together, Jim was becoming a bit less theatrical. Not that he ever really stopped, but Sherlock finally ended up seeing what the notorious consulting criminal was like when he wasn’t acting it up for his reputation. Sleepy Jim was the furthest from the Moriarty persona everyone else got to see and Sherlock liked both of them. 

“What are you thinking about, hm?” Jim was apparently awake enough to look at him by now.

“Just that I like you in bed.” 

“Ooh, you’re that awake already, huh.” The criminal pressed himself against Sherlock’s front.

“Not really, but you know what happens if we stay in bed long enough.” Sherlock smiled at the memory of the previous weekend.

“Mhm. Not that it has to be in bed, really. Just us. Together.” Jim placed a relatively innocent kiss against his neck. 

“Can’t be helped. It’s chemistry.” He stretched his arms for a few seconds before wrapping them around the criminal again. Mornings like this were simply perfect. They were warm, comfortable and nobody could show up to disturb them. Just lazy kisses between naps and wandering hands once they got tired of sleep. 

“Mmmh yes, you would know all about that.” Jim pressed his face into the crook of Sherlock’s neck.

“Oxytocin…” He swung his leg over Jim’s in an attempt to be even closer to him.

The criminal let out a happy little sigh before going still again and drifting off to sleep. There wasn’t much on Sherlock’s mind as he could feel himself getting sleepy again.

Chapter Text

Sherl… Please don’t… -JM

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the message he had just received. Behind him, Lestrade was hurriedly talking to someone on the phone and John was distracted by the dead body in the corner of the room. They had arrived at the crime scene about ten minutes ago and it already seemed obvious that this had not been a spontaneous crime. Whoever had killed the software engineer John was looking at must have meticulously planned it.

“Found anything yet?” Lestrade was apparently done with his call and was looking at him expectantly.

“I–” His ringtone alerted him to another text message. “Excuse me.”

Seriously. I love you. I’m asking nicely, I can beg too. Will suck your cock. Hell I’ll let you tie me to the bed and fuck me until I can’t walk if it’s what you want but pleeeeeeaaaase don’t :( xxxxxx <3333333 -JM

Sherlock could practically hear that text message. It wasn’t common for Jim to outright ask him not to investigate a case so he wasn’t entirely sure what to think of this. He very much enjoyed getting on the criminal’s nerves whenever possible, but he didn’t want to cause any actual harm.

“Sherlock? Are you alright?” Lestrade sounded mildly impatient already.

“I’m–”

Think about it, Sherlock. You, me, my bedroom, the whole weekend. I could wear my best suit with some fancy lingerie underneath or nothing at all. You want me to beg and be a good boy? You can have that. Or you can be good for me and let me take care of you. I’m very eager to please… You can have it all… xx -JM

The room suddenly felt a lot warmer than it had just five minutes ago and Sherlock found it hard to breathe.

“Sherlock?!”

“Yes!” He quickly slipped his phone back into his pocket before anyone could read any of those messages. 

“What is wrong with you today?” Lestrade frowned at him.

“I–” He quickly looked at the body in the corner of the room and then back to the detective inspector.

“Stomach pain, got to go.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and made his way to the front door. He didn’t stop to look if anyone was following him until he had made it around the corner of the street.

What on earth, Jim?! -SH

Sherlock didn’t even have time to put the phone back in his pocket before it started ringing.

“I love yooouuuuu. You’re the best boyfriend in the world!” Jim sang at him through the phone.

“Yes, can you please avoid giving me an erection while I’m busy looking at dead bodies?” He smiled at a woman who had overheard him while walking past. 

“It was an emergency… Wasn’t sure whether my first text would be enough.”

“How far would you have gone if I hadn’t left?” Sherlock knew Jim must have been watching him somehow, but there hadn’t been enough time to look for cameras.

“Well, I did take a few pictures just now.” 

“Pictures? You mean nude pictures? Of what exactly?” He rolled his eyes when a nearby man gave him a reproachful look.

“Oh, you know… This and that.”

“You always say it’s a bad idea to even take pictures of oneself unclothed.” 

“It is, but like I said: emergency. Oneself unclothed . I thought you’d gotten used to being a bit more direct than that.”

“Jim, I’m in public and people might actually call the police if I say another indecent thing out here.”

“Aww, no dirty talk then? What a shame. But fine, we wouldn’t want you to end up handcuffed. Well– not by anyone but me.”

“You’re awfully eager today.”

“You were so sweet doing me a favour like that without asking, it makes me want to show my appreciation.”

“You are…” Sherlock looked at all the people around him. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say but it was most likely going to earn him more dirty looks.

“I know … Now feel free to get your sweet arse over to my flat, I hear you don’t have a case to work on right now and a certain consulting criminal is waiting to blow your mind .”

“Mhm, not sure it’s just my mind he’ll be blowing…” He rolled his eyes when someone took a step back from him after overhearing what he had said. Locking himself into a room with Jim for a few days just sounded better with every passing minute.

Chapter Text

Date is cancelled. I have a cold. -JM

Jim sighed and dropped his phone on the blanket next to him. He’d been looking forward to this evening all week, but now he saw no other possibility than to admit defeat. Between the runny nose, the slight fever and the constant headache, there was no chance he would be up for a clever conversation over dinner, let alone what was supposed to follow after that. He had been trying to ignore the signs for as long as possible, but with barely three hours left until the time they had agreed on, there was no reason to deny the obvious. Feeling tired and miserable, Jim didn’t even check his phone to see if the detective had responded to his message. 

It took the ringing of the doorbell for Jim to realise he’d fallen asleep on his sofa. A quick glance at his phone told him it was almost 8pm. The nap must have lasted longer than he’d assumed and it hadn’t really made him feel any more energetic. Still, he forced himself to get up and check who was at the door. It wasn’t until he recognised Sherlock on the screen of the security system that he asked himself who he’d expected in the first place. Jim wasn’t the kind of person who regularly got surprise visits by friends or family members and there were very few people who knew where he lived. Between Moran getting into deep trouble and showing up at this doorstep out of sheer desperation and Sherlock ignoring his texts, the latter was definitely the more likely option.

“Didn’t you get my text?” Jim asked, trying to sound as confident and alert as usually when he opened the door.

“I did.” The detective answered and held up a large paper bag. “Soup, tea, lemons, honey, paracetamol and ibuprofen- wasn’t sure how bad it was, you didn’t specify.”

Jim looked at the man in front of him, unsure what to say. This was so far removed from how their meetings usually went that he hadn’t even thought about a situation like it before. It didn’t help that his brain had been slowed down by his current state. Luckily for Jim, Sherlock’s seemed to be functioning well enough for both of them and the detective walked past him and into the flat. By the time he had followed him to the kitchen, there was a large container with soup on the counter and what looked like a smaller bag from the pharmacy next to it.

“Soup’s from the restaurant in Soho you like, pills fresh from the pharmacy, tea, honey and lemons from the shop, oh- and Mrs Hudson gave me these herbs…” He lifted a small container out of the bag and held it up. “She says it would help with a cold but I’ve a suspicion it would also get you high so handle with care.”

Jim slowly stepped closer to the counter and watched as the detective removed all the items from the bag, displaying an array of different tea blends and fresh lemons as well as a large jar of honey.

“Don’t worry I can piss off after this. Just figured you don’t have a landlady who does this for you and– Well, anyway. The sooner you feel better, the sooner I’ll get the opportunity to solve one of your cases again.” Sherlock busied himself with the kettle and looked for a large mug in the cupboard while Jim examined the contents of the pharmacy bag. It was so like Sherlock to resort to talking about work as soon as he realised he was starting to get sentimental. Unfortunately Jim found it quite adorable. 

“I mean… You’ll catch the plague if you stay.” His voice sounded different than it usually did and he was already tired of the scratchy feeling in his throat.

“Unlikely, I regularly spend time in the sewers of this city. My immune system is as good as it gets.” The detective had taken his coat off in order to cut a lemon now. Jim couldn’t help but notice how domestic it all looked.

“You spending time in the sewers is… Not really making me want to keep you around.” He pulled a face at the thought.

“Ah, not sexy enough? I shower afterwards and these clothes are fresh from the dry-cleaner too if it helps– Here.” He slid the mug across the counter.

“Fine then. Stay. But don’t expect me to show up at your flat with soup when you end up sick in a day or two.” Jim carefully grabbed the mug and made his way back towards the sofa.

“If I do get sick I’ll just come to stay with you and we can die together.” Sherlock followed and kicked his shoes off before making himself comfortable in the corner of the sofa.

“Not how I thought that would happen but sure.” He leaned against the detective’s shoulder and realised he could go back to sleep immediately.

“You really must be feeling terrible. No smileys or Xs in your text, no flirting or arguments…” Jim could feel a hand on his forehead.

“Told you. Not like I would cancel if it wasn’t necessary.” He pressed himself closer to Sherlock. It was actually quite comfortable and much nicer than keeping himself warm with a blanket.

“Of course not… But how about a change of plans rather than a cancellation? I’ll stay until the fever is gone at least– If you don’t mind…” Sherlock was petting his hair now and Jim didn’t even have to think about his answer. 

Chapter Text

It was past midnight when Sherlock quietly snuck through the kitchen and towards the door to the stairs. A text had informed him of a surprise visit and he’d thought it best to go and unlock the door rather than letting Jim waste time by working past the lock on his own. Barely a minute after Sherlock had received the message, the criminal was in his arms and kissing him with the usual giddiness. Getting to see Jim was right on par with solving a good case and Sherlock was quite happy about the unplanned visit. They stood in the living room for a moment, mouths occupied with kissing and barely making a sound. It occurred to the detective that they should probably move towards his bedroom. Mrs Hudson and John should be asleep by now, but one could never know for sure. He found Jim’s hand and grabbed it, gently pulling him towards his bedroom while trying not to interrupt their kiss. Walking backwards, Sherlock misjudged the distance to the table and promptly bumped his hip against the corner. He could hear Jim’s soft giggle at the sound, but managed not to cry out in pain.

Luckily they made the rest of the way unharmed and he soon closed his bedroom door behind them, only to be pushed against it by an eager criminal. The pain in his hip was quickly forgotten when Jim’s lips found his throat. 

“Mmh… See, I was going to stop by for a nap but I don’t think I'm able to keep my hands off of you…” The criminal whispered next to his ear and Sherlock couldn’t help but agree. As long as they had enough energy left to stay awake for half an hour, this was inevitable.

By the time they found themselves in bed and ready to sleep, Jim’s hair was no longer neatly combed back and his clothes had mysteriously ended up all over the carpet. Sherlock absentmindedly let his fingertips wander over the criminal’s shoulder as they were trying to regain their breath. 

“Do you think he noticed anything?” Jim asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Sherlock realised he may have been more tired than he’d thought.

“Your little flatmate.” 

“John? He’s not all that perceptive…” He thought back to all the times he had to point out the obvious to his friend.

“Maybe, but we weren’t exactly quiet.” There was a smile in Jim’s voice.

“I’ve heard you get loud, this wasn’t it. He has no clue this is going on. As long as you leave before 6 or stay in this room until 7:30 it will remain that way.” Sherlock pressed a sleepy kiss to Jim’s lips before slowly drifting off to a good night’s sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“John? You alright, looking a bit rough there mate.” Lestrade’s greeting was nothing if not blunt. John gratefully took the cup of black coffee from the detective inspector who had been waiting for him in front of a cafe that they occasionally used as a meeting point. Unlike Sherlock, John didn’t mind spending time with Greg outside of work and they made sure to meet up sometimes.

“He was there again. Last night. God I really don’t understand what’s going on there…” He took a large sip of coffee in the hope that it would help somehow. 

“You mean– Moriarty?! Again?! ” Lestrade looked at him with wide eyes and John couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. 

“Yes, again .” As if he’d needed the reminder that this was far from the first visit. 

“How does he– I mean did they–” Greg seemed to be unsure what he wanted to ask. 

“He just shows up in the middle of the night. I don’t think there’s a pattern to it, it just– Happens. They’re not even trying to be subtle at this point! I could hear them giggling and whispering the whole time– Well, until they started going at it as if we didn’t have any neighbours, Jesus.” He shook his head at the memories that he would have loved to burn out of his brain forever.

“But– I mean what do we think is happening here? Because this is starting to go on for a bit too long to just be some kind of experiment, right?” Greg frowned at his cup.

“I honestly don't know. All I know is my best friend is sleeping with a notorious criminal who almost killed us.” He took another sip of coffee.

“Maybe they like each other…” Lestrade suggested.

“No, God, please don’t say that. It’s bad enough like this, I don’t need to have him sitting with us for dinner as well!” He thought he’d already suffered enough during his mostly sleepless night, but the idea of Sherlock introducing Moriarty as his new romantic partner was a bit too much to bear.

“Just saying, I mean who knows…” Greg looked at him with concern.

“Look, Sherlock made it very clear that dating is not his thing. Said it right after we met. He only cares about work! His words!” There probably wasn’t enough coffee in London to make him feel better after the night he’d had.

“Yes, but… Well Moriarty is work, isn’t he?” For once Lestrade had probably drawn a conclusion that could give them a hint as to what was actually going on.

“Oh for– I think I need something stronger than this…” John stared into the depths of his near-empty cup while Greg carefully patted his shoulder with one hand.

Chapter Text

Jim silently admitted to himself that this may have been the biggest miscalculation of this life. What had started as a funny game had turned into him being unable to do much apart from mumbling unintelligible words against Sherlock's neck. None of this felt like a joke anymore. In his head it had seemed like a fine plan: Have sex with Sherlock, hold it over his head for the rest of his life. Make little comments about it in front of his friends to see that lovely, sour look on the detective’s face. Besides, Sherlock was handsome. Having sex with him wasn't exactly a sacrifice. 

Only what Jim hadn't anticipated was what it would actually feel like. Maybe he should have known that the detective, despite lack of experience, would be able to deduce him within seconds. It was the only way he could explain how Sherlock managed to put his hands in all the right places at the right time. 

They were lying on their sides facing each other by now and a tiny voice in the back of Jim's head was screaming too intimate . He tried to justify it with the thought that everything between the two of them was intimate in a way, so this only made sense. Besides, they’d started with Jim on his back and Sherlock kneeling between his legs, slamming into him hard for a while until they eventually felt like trying something else. Perhaps that had been the mistake. Trying to draw it out rather than being quick about it. Which only brought Jim's thoughts back to how good it felt to have Sherlock lazily fucking him while they occasionally kissed. 

“Would you beg?” Sherlock whispered near his ear. Jim immediately felt empty when the detective suddenly pulled out and stopped all movement. He mentally rolled his eyes. From his perspective there was really no point in pretending this was still part of their game. At first they had both tried to be in charge of course, but ever since Sherlock had gotten the privilege of being inside him they had both lost their minds and it was obvious. 

“I could just leave now, you know…” He looked at Sherlock and hoped he was as in control of his facial expression as he thought he was. Trying to look indifferent in the middle of this was not as easy as it should have been. 

“But you know… For the fun of it…” He leaned closer for a quick kiss to Sherlock's bottom lip before whispering against his skin. “ Please fuck me …”

For what it was worth, Sherlock did follow his request immediately. Jim hummed in appreciation and grinned against the detective’s neck. If Sherlock ever brought this up again, he would just say that he ended up getting what he wanted and that was what counted in the end. For now he didn’t really manage to focus on it in any more detail. There was something about being held close by the detective while doing this that made it feel so much better. Jim couldn’t be sure whether it was just the position or the fact that it was Sherlock. Either way he couldn’t remember ever having enjoyed himself this much during sex. He’d definitely never felt this relaxed. Sherlock wrapped an arm around his waist again and pulled him closer.

“Fuck…” Jim hoped the detective was as distracted as he was, if not he would probably be made fun of later for how many times he’d moaned the same profanity in the course of half an hour. 

“Jim…” Maybe Sherlock had actually wanted to tell him something, but there was no way he could resist kissing those lips when he heard his name being said like that. Sherlock’s voice sounded pleasing enough during any other conversation, but hearing it now when the detective was slightly out of breath and overwhelmed by pleasure was almost enough to make Jim come. He could feel Sherlock tensing up a bit in his arms and made his own deduction about what he’d had been trying to tell him.

“It’s okay…” He whispered between kisses. “Come for me.” He bit Sherlock’s bottom lip just enough to elicit a moan out of the detective. “ Come inside me .” Jim moaned when Sherlock pushed his hips forward harder, hitting the perfect spot once again. The detective’s rhythm became erratic while he mumbled unintelligible filth in Jim’s ear that wouldn’t be all that sexy if it weren’t for the hormones. In the moment it all felt perfect and he finally stopped holding back and pushed himself against Sherlock before falling over the metaphorical edge and spilling over their stomachs. When his body slowly relaxed again his brain was barely functioning. His criminal network, London, their little games– it all felt so surreal and insignificant. Sherlock's skin felt soft against his lips and he would have liked nothing more than to stop time and keep reliving this moment.

Chapter Text

“You can’t hurt me. Nobody can.” Jim wasn’t really sure why he’d said it. It was probably a reminder to himself as much as it was a warning to the handsome detective who currently had his arms wrapped around him. Sherlock Holmes was a delightful distraction, but their little game was getting dangerously close to something that Jim could never allow to happen. At the end of the day, he was the consulting criminal who pulled the strings behind the scenes– the spider in the middle of the web, as Sherlock had described him once. He could not allow anyone to attach a string to his back, no matter their method. 

Of course this was all very clear in theory. Even in practice it had worked fine ever since Jim had been a child and realised that he could not rely on other people. He’d stopped Carl from laughing all on his own, he’d made it out of his childhood home on his own and he’d built his network on his own. Other people were there to be used as employees or stepping stones, sometimes for some light entertainment if he felt like it. They weren’t meant to get close to him. That would require trust and of all the things Jim had in abundance; trust was not one of them. 

Perhaps that was why he’d felt the need to say it out loud. He was becoming acutely aware of how close Sherlock was getting. Meeting in one of Jim’s flats instead of a hotel room, staying the night, holding him when they weren’t in the middle of a heated kiss– the situation was escalating. 

“I wish I could…” The detective sighed with a hint of longing in his voice. Jim was almost thankful. It was in perfect support to his reasoning of why he shouldn’t let anyone get too close. People weren’t trustworthy and building up some sort of emotional connection could only lead to pain.

“I’d try my best not to…” Sherlock continued, seemingly talking to himself more so than to Jim. For some reason they were still standing in the middle of the room, enveloped in a hug that must have lasted several minutes by now. Had Sherlock just said he wanted to be able to hurt him only to do his best not to? Jim analysed the words in his head and couldn’t really come to any other conclusion. Leave it to Sherlock to become a sentimental mess. The detective had always been prone to becoming incredibly emotional and making no effort in hiding it. Jim thought of the bullet holes in the wall above the sofa in Sherlock’s flat. He couldn’t deny that he liked that about Sherlock. Where Jim held back and planned everything meticulously, Sherlock stole a gun from his best friend, shot walls and met dangerous criminals to offer them secret missile plans– He should try not to think about that. Feeling flattered was counterproductive when he was trying to tell himself not to get attached to Sherlock. They were still enemies after all and one day he would have to get rid of the consulting detective for good.

Jim sucked in a deep breath at the immediate realisation that the idea of Sherlock’s death made him feel anxious. A million thoughts came racing through his head. None of them were positive. Even the thought that getting rid of Sherlock meant less trouble in terms of business was now immediately followed by the fear that work would actually be quite boring without him. Jim tensed up when it hit him that the most prominent thought was that he would miss Sherlock. Because he liked Sherlock. It was so incredibly stupid because they’d been meeting up at least once a week for months and they would hug and kiss and unnecessarily touch each other all the time– It was all so obvious , it really shouldn’t have taken him so long to realise it. 

“I hate you.” He was, once again, saying it for himself. Though it couldn’t hurt that Sherlock got to hear it too. With a bit of luck the detective would feel insulted and leave. That would certainly make things easier. Perhaps it wasn’t too late yet? Maybe if they didn’t meet again it could all be undone and in a few weeks Jim would feel delighted at the thought of Sherlock being pushed off a tall building. 

“ Oh… ” It was that very specific tone that Sherlock only used when he made a big deduction and something important occurred to him. Jim wished he had at least made the mistake of getting too close to someone who was incredibly stupid. But of course that wouldn’t have made sense– Not that getting close to Sherlock made sense. The detective had the decency not to gloat about his newfound knowledge, which was for the best since Jim may have changed his mind about not wanting to see him die. 

Instead, they just continued to stand there. Jim’s arms around Sherlock’s waist, his cheek resting against the soft fabric of the detective’s shirt.

“Well… I won’t.” Sherlock said quietly, sounding rather determined.

“You can’t .” Jim was no longer sure whether he meant that Sherlock was simply unable to or whether he wasn’t allowed to. Or maybe he knew, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“I won’t.” He could have sworn that it sounded as if Sherlock was smiling.

Chapter Text

When Jim woke up he immediately noticed that he must have slept well. While he usually hated mornings, he felt quite rested when he blinked his eyes open and found himself lying on his stomach. The sheets were soft against his skin and he was comfortably warm without feeling like he was about to overheat. The perfect conditions to stay in bed for a while and enjoy a lazy morning– if it weren’t for the fact that this was clearly not his bedroom. The lack of clothes on him in combination with a room that wasn’t his own would have been reason to worry if it weren’t for the fact that the dresser Jim was looking at was very familiar. Memories of the last night were coming back as well and they explained how he had ended up here. Staying in Sherlock’s room overnight was ridiculously risky and objectively speaking not worth it. Subjectively, Jim would have argued that a repetition of the Great Fire of London would have been worth it if it somehow led to a night with Sherlock.

He lazily stretched and rolled onto his back until he could look to the other side of the bed. Much to his delight, the consulting detective had not left him alone.

“Mhh, morning sexy.” He smirked at the man next to him who looked too good for someone who had only just woken up. Yet another reason to justify Jim’s obsession with the detective. When he leaned in for a quick kiss, he wasn’t rejected. It did not seem that Sherlock was eager to get rid of him.

“Morning…” Sherlock said, his voice still heavy with sleep. Jim had actually not considered what that might sound like until now, but he already knew he would need to hear more of it at some point. 

“I suppose I fell asleep then.” It was an obvious fact, but he felt as if he should probably let Sherlock know that it hadn’t been his intention to stay the whole night. 

“You were rather exhausted by the time we– Well, it was late anyway.” The detective stretched and gave Jim a chance to enjoy the view of exposed skin when the sheets slipped down a bit. 

“Mhm… And your bed is oh-so comfortable. And warm…” He gently traced the skin over Sherlock’s left bicep in an attempt to test the waters. For all he knew the detective was about to ask him to leave and never talk of this again. It seemed he was more welcome than expected though. Rather than pulling back, Sherlock rolled onto his side and pulled him into a warm embrace. It was less forceful and passionate than what had transpired between them mere hours ago, but Jim wasn’t picky. He quite liked being touched by Sherlock and sleepy hugs were just another new thing for him to enjoy. 

“We’re alone by the way. I heard everyone leave the building earlier.” The detective mumbled close to Jim’s ear. That voice . If Jim could have all his boring work emails read to him by Sherlock, work would be a lot more bearable. Exciting even. 

“Good, it might be a bit awkward if your landlady walked in and saw us…” Jim secretly thought that it would be absolutely hilarious if the doctor found them like this. The consequences were likely to be bad, but it would be funny regardless.

“Wouldn’t want to give her a heart attack. Best keep this to ourselves.” Sherlock tried to sound somewhat business-like, but it didn’t come across all that serious when he finished by placing a little kiss on Jim's neck. He could feel how sleepy the detective was based on how he moved.

“What happens in this room stays between the two of us.” Jim confirmed. Apart from seeing Watson’s facial expression if he caught them, there weren’t really any advantages of telling anyone about what had happened. Meanwhile there would be plenty of disadvantages; Mycroft getting involved being a major one.

An hour later, Jim found himself still in the same bed, now a bit more upright and leaning against the detective as they finished their tea. Apparently kicking him out was very low on the list of Sherlock’s priorities that morning.

“I’ll admit, I thought you’d take this a bit more… Well, less tea, more panic.” He remarked idly while enjoying the comfort of lying in Sherlock’s arms and being held warm.

“You thought having sex with you would send me into an episode of distress? I can assure you I’m perfectly capable of having an affair.” The detective responded calmly.

“Is that what this is? A good old-fashioned affair?” Jim asked half jokingly. It was definitely interesting that Sherlock would use that term rather than calling the previous night a one-off.

“Hm.” The detective confirmed with a little shrug.

“Noooo…” Jim drew out the word with a little smile on his lips. “Doesn’t quite suit us, does it? We need our own thing. Enemies with benefits?” He asked and earned himself a smile from Sherlock, who didn’t respond.

“Enemies with benefits and some sentimental feelings they choose to ignore.” Jim added.

“Bit long, isn’t it?” Sherlock asked with a frown on his face but was clearly amused by the suggestion. Jim smirked back at him. A lighthearted complaint, no denial.

Chapter Text

Jim hadn’t expected to end up in a horizontal position on top of a pile of carpets in an observatory at 3 am, but now that he was here he was quite happy with how things had turned out. There had been a plan to goad Sherlock into… Something. It didn’t really matter now since they’d somehow abandoned their clever word match in favour of something more interesting. Jim was on his side with Sherlock pressed against his front, his leg swung over the detective’s hip and their arms wrapped around each other as if they were holding on for dear life. It did feel like that in a sense. Getting to finally kiss Sherlock had done something to Jim’s brain chemistry that was objectively scary, but he wasn’t even bothered by it. Whatever plan he’d come up with before arranging this meeting could not have been better than the feeling of dragging his tongue over Sherlock’s lips. Perhaps all the rumours were true and the detective was inexperienced when it came to physical exploits, but he was at least intrigued enough to pull Jim closer and eagerly press their mouths together. 

He’d fantasised about this before of course; how could he not when Sherlock always looked so gorgeous? Getting to experience it was a different thing though. Jim felt as if he’d gotten hard within seconds when their lips first made contact and now, several minutes into their delightful exchange of affection, he felt as if he was about to lose his mind. His hips moved forward as he was desperately trying to get some friction.

“Wait–” Sherlock’s voice was yet another item on a long list of things that Jim couldn’t get enough of.

“Hmmm?” He stopped his rather erratic fumbling with the hem of Sherlock’s shirt, but couldn’t resist pressing a few kisses to the detective’s jawline.

“We’re not going to have sex here.” Sherlock stated, slightly out of breath. Jim wasn’t sure how to process this, his brain had definitely had clearer moments. It made sense, logically speaking. This was not a hotel room. 

“Yes… Alright, yes uh… Kissing?” He wasn’t entirely sure whether the darling consulting detective had just realised what was going on or if he was merely stating a fact with the last bit of reason he had left right now.

“Yes, continue.” Sherlock didn’t wait for Jim to continue though and quickly pressed their lips together himself.

“Mh– You uh– Well I hope you don’t mind I’m–” He tried to pull away a few inches to get some space between them. The last thing he wanted was to scare Sherlock off. There was no chance though. A hand was firmly placed on his upper thigh and pulled his leg right back where it had been resting around Sherlock’s hip.

“I don’t mind.” The detective said in a hushed voice between kisses. It was quite interesting that at least two of Jim’s shirt buttons had come undone by now and neither one of them by his own hand. Sherlock’s lips found the skin that stretched over his collarbone now that it laid exposed. All Jim could do was lean his head back and try not to be too vocal about how much he was enjoying himself. If Sherlock continued like that they wouldn’t need to have sex for this to lead to a happy ending. Happy apart from the state Jim’s trousers would be in by the end of it. 

He made a slightly pathetic whining sound when the detective continued pressing open mouthed kisses to his skin, moving away from the collarbone and up his neck.

“Fuck, you–” For once, Jim had nothing clever to say. If he was being honest with himself, all he wanted was for Sherlock to continue playing with him for however long he liked. It might kill him, but it would be a good way to go. Jim had barely finished the thought when he suddenly felt a hand at the front of his trousers. The moan that escaped his mouth when the detective squeezed his cock through the fabric was louder than it ever should have been. It was entirely Sherlock’s fault though. Either the detective knew exactly what he was doing or he had impeccable instincts. Jim couldn’t help but think about that hand– Sherlock had really nice hands, a skilled violin player… Only now he was playing Jim, eliciting sounds from him rather than from his beloved instrument. The Westwood shirt was getting dangerously close to being pulled off completely now, the two last buttons were barely doing anything to cover him up and Sherlock had done a great job pulling the sleeve off his right arm for better access to more skin he could kiss. All of that while the detective still had his hand firmly placed on the front of Jim’s trousers, giving him gentle squeezes ever so often. If they continued like this he wouldn’t last much longer.

Jim had just grabbed onto the detective’s shirt collar to pull him closer when a noise from the hallway suddenly alerted them to the presence of another person in the building. Interestingly enough, neither one of them pulled back immediately. The sound of a door falling shut just a few seconds later could no longer be ignored though and they both looked towards the exit of the room they were in. That door hadn’t been opened since they’d walked through it an hour ago. Not really wanting to think about it, Jim pushed his lips against Sherlock’s again. 

“Mmh, wait…” It took the detective a few seconds to actually react and pull away. “You uh…” Sherlock looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s– If we get caught like this our lives are ruined…” Jim could tell that Sherlock took no joy in saying it. Having at least one person who was still able to make the right call was probably for the best, but Jim couldn’t help but whine a little when the detective pulled the shirt back over his shoulder in an attempt to get ready to leave. They could definitely hear steps in the hallway now, most likely the security personnel making their rounds. Jim couldn’t be sure how late it was exactly.

They awkwardly scrambled down the stairs of the auditorium and towards the second door of the room that would lead them through a narrow corridor and into a back alley. Sherlock had grabbed Jim’s hand in an attempt to hurry him along and they hadn’t taken the time to put their coats back on. Whoever was walking through the building was definitely coming closer to the room they had been in and so they didn’t stop to look back until they’d safely made it outside and down the street. After putting their coats on, Jim quickly found himself pressed against the wall of a building while Sherlock was kissing him again. He was definitely starting to think that he could never get tired of that, but it wasn’t quite as heated as it had been only minutes ago. Still, every fibre in Jim’s body was screaming at him to drag the detective to the nearest hotel and finish what they had started.

“I should get home before someone wakes up and starts asking questions.” Sherlock stated matter of factly before placing a hand on Jim’s neck and pulling him in for a long kiss. He would have believed that the detective was trying to create some distance and end their time together now that he’d breathed in some fresh air and come to his senses, but the tongue in his mouth seemed to indicate that wasn’t the case.

“Tell me we’ll do this again… Even if it’s a lie, jus–” Jim was vaguely aware of how needy he must have sounded, but he didn’t have it in him to care. Sherlock interrupted him with yet another kiss, this time ending it with a gentle bite to the lip.

“I’ll see you again soon. Good night.”

Chapter Text

Jim had just put his phone away for the day and turned on the TV when the doorbell rang. Dressed in his sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt, he slowly made his way to the front door of his flat. He wasn’t exactly angry about the unannounced visitor, but he thought it was quite ironic how things like this always happened when he decided to take some time off work for a few hours. 

Sherlock Holmes was wearing his usual coat over a simple suit and Jim couldn’t spot any bloodstains or injuries, so at least it wasn’t that kind of emergency visit. He looked at the detective with a raised eyebrow for a few seconds before nodding towards the flat and stepping aside. Since Sherlock hadn’t broken into a hurried explanation of why he was there yet by the time the door was locked again, Jim simply put his arms around the detective’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me.” The detective remarked.

“There aren’t too many people who know where I live. And the other one’s in Brazil right now.” The mere thought of having lots of visitors at his private flat was enough to make Jim want to double check the locks.

Sherlock hummed but remained quiet and it quickly seemed clear to Jim that it wasn’t meant to be the kind of meeting that ended with their clothes on the floor either. Rather than greedily pulling Jim closer, Sherlock simply stood there, dropping his head on the criminal’s shoulder and holding him. It wasn’t really like them to stand in the hallway and cuddle. Meetings were usually sexual in nature or all about getting into heated discussions about whatever it was they disagreed on that day. 

“I’m going to make some tea.” Jim announced in an attempt to break the silence and give them a good reason to move to the kitchen rather than staying near the door. Sherlock quietly trailed after him, still not making any attempts at a conversation or anything else.

“I'll make it extra hot so it will take a while before you can drink it.” That would be a good enough reason for the detective to stay and sit around for a while without having to come up with any other excuse for it.

As soon as he had filled the kettle with water and put some tea bags in two of the mugs, Sherlock was back in his arms again, head on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” Jim asked while petting the detective’s neck.

“Bad case.” Was the muffle response.

“Bad- boring or bad- it didn’t end how you wanted?” He placed one arm around Sherlock’s waist while leaving his right hand on his neck. The detective grumbled rather than saying anything, so Jim knew it was the latter. 

“Mh, well it wasn’t one of mine.” Jim said almost apologetically.

“How can you be so sure?” Sherlock lifted his head again.

“I would know if London's best consulting detective was working on one of mine.”  That earned Jim a little groan, but he knew Sherlock was secretly flattered. He always was.

“Poor detective…” He fondled with a curl at the back of Sherlock’s head and decided to indulge him for a bit if it could help his mood. The detective’s forehead quickly ended up on his shoulder again as he let himself be comforted by the hug.

“Wanna not be a detective and just be Sherlock for a bit?” Jim had been about to do the same thing. Ignoring all incoming messages for a few hours and enjoying a silly film or a show. Thinking about it now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to let Sherlock join him.

“Mmmmh…” The consulting detective relaxed in his arms and seemed far from wanting to leave anytime soon, so Jim took that as a ‘yes’. It wasn’t that late yet, so they could have dinner together as well. He started to think about what he had left in his fridge– some leftover noodles, a few bell peppers, probably enough cheese to cover something it it– and there was always pasta in the cupboard, as well as some jars of tomato sauce. They could have their tea and lie on the sofa for a while before preparing dinner together and maybe go back to watching TV once they had eaten.

“Oh god…” Jim suddenly had a realisation. “You’re my boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.” He said calmly as if it was a well known factual statement. “Well that was not supposed to happen…” He stared at the wall near the fridge while Sherlock lifted his head to look at him.

“No, I’m–” The detective started hesitantly.

“Oh please, you are.” It all seemed so obvious to him. Their regular meetings, always finding excuses to be around each other, finding things to fight about just so they could sit there and argue for hours at a time…

Sherlock looked slightly worried now and didn’t seem sure what to say.

“It’s fine. I’ll get used to it.” Jim reassured him.

“What?” The detective was frowning at him now.

“Having a boyfriend. It’s not like it will kill me. I’ll figure it out.” He’d never bothered to keep up any relationships that weren’t strictly business-related, but it couldn’t be all that difficult. Now that he was thinking about it, they had managed to be together for quite some time already, even if they hadn’t realised what was going on. 

“So you just– Decided that?” Sherlock asked, still looking rather confused.

“I would say I deduced it based on my observations. Why, any objections?” Jim knew the deduction aspect would get Sherlock to think about the same things that he had just considered himself. All of their meetings, the texts, the fact that they came up with increasingly silly excuses to be together and now Sherlock coming to him when he’d had a bad day and wanted to be comforted. 

“No… No objection…”

Chapter Text

“You’re not actually doing this to me?!” 

Sherlock had barely closed the door behind him when Jim jumped in front of him with the question that sounded more like an accusation.

“Good evening, dearest. Why yes, my day was alright, thank you for asking.” He replied sarcastically.

“Don’t get clever with me you little rat! You can’t be serious about this!” Jim didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes. Usually the criminal would greet Sherlock with a hug or a kiss, not so tonight. Sherlock pressed his lips together for a moment in an attempt to look apologetic.

“New shirt? Looks good on you…” He gently tugged on the soft fabric of the wine red shirt.

“Of course it looks good on me. That’s beside the point, my dear . Why this case? Can’t you solve a funny murder or something?” Jim’s initial tone of accusation was slowly giving way to a whinier one. Sherlock was quite happy to hear that; dealing with Jim’s complaints wasn’t difficult. An actually upset consulting criminal was not something he could easily deal with before they had dinner. 

“No good murders available and millions of pounds worth of forged paintings is quite intriguing.” His current case had baffled the responsible authorities for weeks until they had finally called him in and now he was invested in the story of painting seemingly disappearing within minutes while being replaced with very deceptive forgeries.

“Yes. Tens of millions. If you solve this you can say goodbye to our next holiday.” Jim narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

“You said we’d explore an abandoned temple in–” 

“Yeah, no temples, no luxury suites, no dinner dates. None of it. Cancelled. I might have to buy the hard scratchy towels next time we need new ones. Hell, I’ll be wearing H&M soon if you keep going like that. Sell the flat. We can move in with Sebastian. He has a free room in his basement.” Jim threw his hands up and walked back towards the kitchen where he mumbled something about boiling water for his tea over an open flame so they could save electricity.

Sherlock smiled as he took his scarf and coat off and put it in the wardrobe by the door. Jim would be fine whether Sherlock solved this case or not. The criminal had more than enough work to be financially comfortable for the rest of his life. Jim knew that. Jim knew that Sherlock knew. But what fun would it be if the criminal simply leaned back and watched Sherlock solve one of his cases without comment? John had called Sherlock a drama queen once. The doctor had obviously never spent more than five minutes with Jim Moriarty whose favourite daily pastime consisted of creating as much chaos as possible in the world and complaining. Perhaps spending time with Sherlock also fit in that category, but neither one of them would ever mention that to anyone else.

“Well… I suppose if you refuse to sleep in bed with me tonight because of this then I’ll drop it…” Sherlock suggested as he stepped next to Jim who was preparing a cup of his favourite tea blend. “Wouldn’t want you to sleep on the couch over this.”

“ Me?! You realise that it would be you, right? If we were silly enough to go through with that kind of behaviour.” Jim looked at him with an eyebrow raised before going back to his tea-making.

“You’re shorter. Makes sense you would be the one who gets the smaller space.” Sherlock argued.

“You’re getting dangerously close to spending the night chopped up in a freezer.” Jim drawled without looking at him while pouring the water in his mug.

“I’m stating facts.” Sherlock shrugged.

“Me too, darling. Me too.” The criminal placed a kiss on his cheek before walking off to the living room where he had apparently been sitting before Sherlock’s arrival.

“No tea for me?” He followed and took a seat next to the pile of blankets Jim had left behind.

“Traitors don’t get tea.” Jim quickly responded with a fake smile.

“Of course.” Sherlock tried not to smile. This was so typical for the criminal. He would probably be accused of solving this case for a week or two before it stopped losing its appeal. Still, Jim had never asked him to sleep in the living room or even at Baker Street because of something like this. Regardless of the case Sherlock was working on, their fights never went any further. 

“Can I make it up to you somehow?” He asked since Jim was still sitting at a respectable distance from him, which was quite unusual.

“Well… I suppose…” The criminal crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling, clearly leaving it to Sherlock to make the first step. The detective knew his husband well enough and pulled him against this side.

“It is a very elegant operation from start to finish. You’ve outdone yourself, truly.” He kissed Jim’s temple for good measure and held him tightly. The criminal grumbled something indistinguishable but pressed himself against Sherlock nonetheless. 

“You’re soooo bad for business.” Jim said after a while.

“What can I say? Your cases are irresistible. Make them less clever and I won’t be as interested.” Sherlock absentmindedly stroked the criminal’s neck.

“Defeats the purpose… My husband is so good at making deductions and solving cases and he’s handsome and warm– why must I suffer so?” Jim asked theatrically while wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s neck and making himself comfortable on his lap.

“The world is truly punishing you. Maybe for your crimes, who knows.” 

“Ah yes, karma…”

Chapter Text

Jim rolled from his left side to his right in a state of half-sleep. After a few seconds he realised why he was starting to gain consciousness: his doorbell was ringing. The darkness in his bedroom was enough to indicate that it was not an appropriate time to receive any mail and a quick look at his alarm clock confirmed that it was the middle of the night. In a slight rush of panic, he stumbled out of bed and through his flat towards the front door, fully expecting to find someone bleeding out on his doorstep. A quick look at the security camera revealed that the mysterious visitor was not a bullet-riddled Sebastian Moran, but an anxious looking consulting detective. Jim had barely opened the door when Sherlock pushed past him with a quick, mumbled greeting. 

“Huh?” He stared after the detective and slowly closed the door again in confusion. Sherlock didn’t look like he was hurt. There was no blood and he was walking normally, no sight of any bandages or bruises. 

“Sherlock. Why a– What the hell are you doing?” Jim sounded both tired and slightly exasperated. The initial rush of adrenaline was wearing off now that he knew nobody was dying and his body reminded him that it was four in the morning.

“Where is the book?!” Sherlock asked hurriedly, as if they had discussed this previously and Jim was the one who was being unhelpful.

“Which book? What is–” He didn’t even know what to ask anymore when Sherlock, who had walked straight to the bookshelf in the living room, pulled a chair over from the dining table and stood on it to check the top shelf.

“Last month, I spent the afternoon here and we had sex on the carpet. There was a book about fungi on your coffee table. I saw it when I was on top of you– Where is it?” Sherlock continued looking for the book, making a mess of Jim’s library in the process. Meanwhile, Jim wasn’t even sure what was worse: Being woken up at 4am to look for a book or the fact that Sherlock was clearly not paying enough attention to him when they were rolling around the carpet together.

“You noticed a book about fungi when we were– Would you stop moving things out of their place?” He walked towards the detective and quickly pulled a large book about theoretical astrophysics out of his hands.

“It’s rare. Only 300 were sold in the United Kingdom and when I saw the picture online I knew I’d seen one before. Had to go to my mind palace but then I remembered! Do you still have it?!” Sherlock was off the chair now and pulling Jim closer by the waist. He really should tell the detective to get the hell out and never wake him up again. That was the problem when you let your enemy come over for some fun several times a month: at some point they start feeling as if they can just do whatever they want. Jim was a brilliant and well-connected consulting criminal, Sherlock Holmes should be scared of him when they weren’t busy making out. Instead, the detective was looking at him expectantly with wide blue eyes like some sort of lost puppy. Jim sighed.

“It’s in my office. I’ll grab it if you make me some tea.” He got pulled into a tight hug and felt an enthusiastic pair of lips on his own before the detective hurried into the kitchen to uphold his part of the deal.

When Jim returned with the book a couple of minutes later, he was relieved to see that his kitchen still looked relatively tidy and Sherlock was pouring some boiling water into a mug.

“YES!!!” The detective cheered when he caught sight of the large book Jim was carrying. Before he could ask any more questions, Sherlock had taken the tome from him and placed it on the kitchen counter to leaf through it. Jim still found the surprise visit rather insolent, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now. 

“Ooooh, yes! Yes! Perfect!” Sherlock mumbled at the book while Jim sat on a barstool and stirred in his tea, squinting at the absurd scene in front of him.

“You’re showing way too much enthusiasm for that old thing.” He commented dryly.

“Don’t be jealous, James. My interest in blastomycosis is purely professional.” Sherlock explained without looking up from the page.

“Oh? So your interest in me is not purely professional?” Jim couldn’t help himself despite his previous decision to be annoyed for the rest of the night.

“No. My interest in you is multifaceted.” Sherlock said and turned the page, apparently reading an excerpt from a paper as they were speaking.

“Care to elaborate?” Jim asked, biting his lip. If that aggravating menace ended up saying something sentimental then Jim would be unable to hold any grudges towards him for intruding in the middle of the night. 

“Noooo, but this was very illuminating. Confirms my theory anyway. That paper is not available online and I need it for my case.” The detective explained as if Jim really cared about the details.

“Wonderful.” He sighed while Sherlock tapped away on his phone, surely alerting one of his little friends of what he had found out.

“Hmmmmm…” Sherlock hummed when he turned his head to look at Jim, who was sitting at the counter and looking as if he was about to fall asleep.

“What?” It occurred to Jim that his hair must be a mess and the old shirt he slept in was probably not his best outfit either. 

“Just wondering whether I have enough time to put you back to bed before I go solve this.” Sherlock looked at him pensively.

“I’m not a toddler.” Jim wondered why he was putting up with this type of behaviour.

“You called me baby last week. Stones, glasshouse… Anyway to hell with it, Gerd can deal with this on his own for a minute.” The detective’s coat was quickly slung over the back of a chair and he walked around the counter so he could grab Jim’s hand. This was why he was putting up with Sherlock. The consulting detective gently pulled him towards the bedroom, where he wrapped him into the covers and slung his arms around him. Jim fell asleep almost immediately and slept without interruption until he woke up hours later with the detective still beside him. If this was the result of owning rare books, he might have to buy a few more shelves he could fill.

Chapter Text

Jim had been absentmindedly looking at the wallpaper for a few minutes when he realised how comfortable he was. They had somehow ended up like this without really planning it, probably due to some hormones, but strangely he didn’t feel like it was time to leave. Sherlock was leaning against him while Jim had his arms wrapped around the detective from behind, his fingers intertwined on Sherlock’s chest and they hadn’t said anything in a while despite being awake and in the same room together. Realising this, Jim couldn’t help but be a little surprised that it didn’t feel awkward and there was no instinct to make a sarcastic remark or get dressed and leave. On the contrary. It seemed that this was one of the rare moments he didn’t feel stressed at all and was perfectly content just lying there, leaning against a small mountain of pillows and holding Sherlock. He usually didn’t like being close to people, it was a major reason why he preferred wasting time in the back of his private car rather than taking the tube just like everyone else. The consulting detective in his arms was the exception it seemed.

“This is nice.” His voice interrupted the silence. Usually, Jim wouldn’t bother telling people that he genuinely enjoyed something, but once again, Sherlock was the exception. “Comfortable…” He added in an attempt to clarify that he was talking about their current position rather than their meeting in general. Sherlock hummed in agreement and Jim traced his thumb over the detective’s chest. He’d read about the benefits of physical contact, but to experience it was incomparable to a scientific study that explained the phenomenon. There were also benefits to eating vegetables, but that didn’t mean Jim automatically liked the taste of kale. Holding Sherlock was nothing like eating kale. If anything, holding Sherlock was more alike to eating a freshly made chocolate cake with little runny bits of chocolate in it. 

“Switch?” The detective asked, leaning his head back so he could look at Jim.

“Hm?”

“I could—” Sherlock pushed himself up and hesitantly placed an arm around Jim’s shoulder. “Unless you don’t want to…” Realising what the detective was suggesting, Jim shifted on the pillows until he found himself wrapped in a warm hug. Resting his cheek against Sherlock’s shoulder was also quite comfortable and there was an inexplicable urge to kiss the exposed skin now that it was so accessible.

“This isn’t too bad either…” He said with a mischievous smile on his face, making it pretty clear that he actually thought it was very far from bad.

“Yes… It’s…” Sherlock seemed to be giving it some thought. Jim could only imagine that the detective had just as little experience when it came to this than he did. It wasn’t as if cuddling was part of their everyday life; if Sherlock had ever experienced it before it had most likely been with a family member during childhood, which would be different from what they were doing now. “Rather intimate, I suppose.” The detective concluded and Jim couldn’t disagree with that. It was most definitely on another level than just having sex, during which they could still push each other around a little bit in order to maintain their playful dynamic. This was more calm and quiet and it didn’t seem as if either one of them was trying to keep up appearances. 

“Yeeeah, we probably shouldn’t be doing this…” Jim replied since it only made sense and Sherlock quietly hummed in agreement. “But I do love breaking the rules…” He added, grinned and attacked the detective’s neck without a warning. Sherlock practically squealed, but pulled him closer rather than pushing him away. If anything, their acknowledgment that they shouldn’t be doing this had only encouraged them to indulge themselves even more. 

Chapter Text

Jim took a deep breath before hitting the call button on his phone. It wasn’t really like him to ask people for help but this was the kind of special situation that required assistance from a certain detective.

“Jim? Bit early for that kind of call, don’t you think?” By the sound of it, Sherlock was somewhere in the city.

“Please behave, it’s not supposed to be that kind of call. I need your consulting.” Jim clarified before the detective could make any more inappropriate comments in public.

“You have a case? A good one I hope…” At least it seemed that he had Sherlock’s full attention now.

“Not really a case, no. I need to know how dogs work.” Jim tried to explain rather clumsily.

“How– Are you high? If so, why didn’t you invite me?” Sherlock was actually joking now. Jim sighed loud enough to make sure the detective would hear it.

“Look, I have a dog here and it’s under my sofa. I filled a bowl with water but it doesn’t want to come out. I really don’t want it to pee on my carpet while it’s hiding there and– Just… What can I do to make it come out?” Jim stared at the sofa in front of him, knowing that the small dog was somewhere underneath.

“You have– Why do you have a dog?” Sherlock's voice had gone from slightly mocking to utter intrigue.

“It was my client’s. Well, he got it for his girlfriend, but she left him because of the– His job. She didn’t like his job so she left him. And the dog. But my client… Passed away. Sadly. Very tragic, gone too soon, rest in pieces. Anyway, the dog was left in his flat when Moran stopped by there earlier and he had the audacity to bring it over here because he had… Work to do. And didn’t have time to find a solution himself. Basically pushed it into my arms and left. The second I put the dog on the floor it just ran off to hide.” Jim was still staring at the space between the sofa and the carpet, waiting for any sign of his former client’s pet.

“Jim, the dog must be terrified! Did Moran kill the owner while the dog was around? They’re very sensitive, something like that could explain this kind of behaviour.” Sherlock sounded slightly concerned through the phone.

“Sebastian only visited the flat to take care of some formalities, no dogs were traumatised by him. I suppose the guy may not have cared about the dog all that much after his girlfriend left. Still, it can’t stay under my sofa.” Jim had never felt like hurting any animals, even when some people had accused him of being the type for that sort of thing. Whatever neglect the animal had suffered from its deceased owner wasn’t Jim's fault, but that didn’t mean he had the patience to deal with this.

“Sherlock? Any tips?” He asked when he didn’t get a response.

“Stay calm. I’m on my way.”

Sure enough, Sherlock Holmes appeared at his doorstep in record time. Jim motioned towards the sofa and watched as the detective dropped his coat next to a chair, already focusing on the task at hand rather than anything else. 

“Hello there…” Jim leaned against a massive bookshelf and watched as London’s only consulting detective laid on his stomach and started talking to the empty space underneath the sofa. He had a fleeting thought that this might actually work since he too would come out of hiding at the sound of Sherlock’s voice.

“Should I get food? I think I have some leftover pasta in the fridge…” He suggested as he started feeling quite useless.

“Sssshhhh, just stay quiet and relax, you’re too tense no wonder she’s hiding.” Sherlock whispered without looking at him.

“She?” Jim inquired.

“Yes, I can see her collar, her name’s Minnie.” Sherlock explained in a hushed tone while Jim carefully walked towards an armchair and sat down.

At first he found some enjoyment in looking at Sherlock’s butt, but after a few minutes even that couldn’t hold his interest any longer, so Jim grabbed a nearby book and started reading, slowly getting lost in the text until he was no longer thinking about what was going on around him.

“Helloo, you’re scared aren’t you? I suppose that’s normal, consulting criminals do sound scary at first… Yes. Yes there you go… He’s not that bad once you get to know him…” The quiet voice distracted Jim from his reading and made him look up only to see Sherlock sitting on the floor with the small dog beside him. Jim wanted to acknowledge the success of the mission, but quickly decided to stay quiet just in case an unexpected sound would cause the dog to go back into hiding.

“What are you going to do with her?” Sherlock asked quietly as he let the dog sniff his hand.

“I’m not going to have her for dinner if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jim lifted an eyebrow when the dog approached Sherlock even further, sniffing his trousers and shirt before sitting down and leaning against him.

“I’m not. But it wouldn’t be implausible for you to bring her to a shelter or sell her to someone.” Sherlock carefully stroked the dog’s back with his index finger.

“By someone you mean yourself I suppose?” Jim had no idea why the dog liked Sherlock enough to come out of hiding when Jim had been unsuccessful for over half an hour. Clearly they were getting along quite well.

“No chance, Mrs Hudson is allergic– or so she claims. Been arguing with her for years but she won’t let me get a dog.” There was a barely noticeable but rather disappointed look in Sherlock’s eyes as he carefully stroked the dog’s beige fur, apparently calming her down in the process. Jim realised he was utterly screwed.

“I mean. It’s a small dog. Doesn’t look like she will need all that much space.” He started to reason.

“No, it’s not a Siberian Husky. A chihuahua maybe… Still shouldn’t sell her to just anyone. Perhaps I can ask around…” The sad look in Sherlock’s eyes was unbearable.

“I’m not selling her. Though it would be good if she got used to me and stopped hiding under there.” Jim was already making a mental list of things he would have to buy.

“What, you mean– You’re keeping her?!” Sherlock looked at him with large eyes.

“This is a purely selfish decision, alright? I keep the dog and you spend all your free time at my flat. Under the condition that you don’t forget I exist.” Jim watched as Sherlock’s face lit up at the prospect. Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely selfish decision.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think I like this.” Jim said with a doubtful expression on his face after letting Sherlock into his flat. They had been meeting for months and everything had been great fun until a few days ago, when they’d been in bed together and Jim couldn’t help but notice that something had changed. Their first meetings had been filled with animosity due to their disagreements about work, but this had quickly shifted into something more playful. Once the actual accusations of sabotaging each other's work had gotten more rare, meeting with Sherlock was nothing but a good time. They teased each other about work, occasionally threw in a half-hearted threat in order to keep things interesting and had great sex. That was the point of having an affair with your enemy after all. Until Jim realised that he had been lying in Sherlock’s arms for half an hour instead of getting out of bed to leave. Then, when he did try to get up, the detective had gently held him back and asked him to stay. Stuck between wanting to stay and not wanting to do something extremely stupid, Jim had tried to argue his way out of the situation for a few minutes, but in the end it had become rather clear what was going on. He’d wanted to stay and Sherlock didn’t want him to leave. The implications of that went far beyond what Jim had been prepared for when he’d entered the hotel room that evening. Neither of them actually made a direct verbal confession about what they were thinking, but between the two of them, that wasn’t really necessary. Sherlock, who liked to pretend he was a sociopath with no feelings, had asked Jim to stay; and Jim, who liked to pretend he hated every single human being on Earth, had agreed. 

There had been the vaguest of conversations about what this meant though and at the end it was understood that from now on they wouldn’t meet as two enemies who were having great, but meaningless sex. Of course nobody had actually said anything stupid like boyfriends , but that was presumably what they were trying to be now that they’d gotten hopelessly attached to each other.

So now Sherlock was visiting Jim at his actual flat instead of a luxurious hotel room and they stood in the hallway unsure of what to do. 

“And what about this?” Sherlock asked before taking a step forward and pulling Jim against him for a kiss. Somehow the detective had been more enthusiastic, perhaps even optimistic, about this shift in their relationship. If it hadn’t been for Sherlock’s argument that they might as well enjoy each other’s company as long as they could stand to be in the same room without killing each other, Jim may have just left and, most likely, made himself feel miserable. Despite the awkward feeling of suddenly having a boyfriend show up at his flat, Jim absolutely melted at the touch of their lips. It was exactly why he had been unable to resist the detective when he’d asked him to stay overnight a few days ago. Kissing Sherlock had gone from fun and sexy to something that made Jim feel as if he never wanted to stop, even if that meant he was going to die kissing Sherlock due to lack of hydration after a few days. Perhaps he was starting to get addicted and that was the cause of all these strange feelings. That would probably make things easier than the alternative explanation…

“Yes. I do like that.” He admitted when Sherlock slowly pulled his head back without letting go of him. It wasn’t as if he hated being around the detective and was being forced into this.

“What about the idea of having this whenever you want?” The consulting detective sure knew how to make being sentimental fools sound appealing.

“Well, yes. Bad for productivity, most likely.” He couldn’t really imagine wanting to get out of bed and deal with his clients when Sherlock was right there, wrapped in nothing but a thin sheet. “But yes, doesn’t sound too bad.” He admitted, though having Sherlock around to make out with him was not really the problem in the first place. Romantic relationships, at least working ones, supposedly consisted of more than just pleasurable physical activities and as far as Jim could tell that was all they had been doing so far. Apart from threatening to kill each other while throwing in as many innuendos as they could think of. So perhaps, if he was being honest with himself, he liked Sherlock, but he couldn’t even explain why and he most definitely didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend. Neither did Sherlock, he’d admitted that himself, though he seemed much less worried about it. 

“Come on…” The detective gently manoeuvred them towards the couch where he could pull Jim on his lap and kiss him again. He couldn’t help but smile at the familiar situation they found themselves in. Placing a hand on Sherlock’s neck and leaning in to push him against the backrest, Jim realised that he definitely did want this. He didn’t want to want it because it didn’t align with his general plan of keeping everyone at arm’s length, but god , kissing Sherlock was pure indulgence and the prospect of being able to unashamedly do this every day was almost too good to be true. 

“Fine…” He said slightly petulantly once they pulled apart. “But it’s not like we can kiss all day.” It was a challenge for the detective to impress him with some other appealing activities. Sherlock only lifted an eyebrow and grabbed the remote, navigating Jim’s streaming services until he found a documentary about the big bang.

“A movie?” Jim asked. 

“You like this stuff. We’re going to watch it and– Well, maybe more kissing. Probably.” Sherlock said with a look in his eyes that told Jim the detective was already making some educated guesses as to how the rest of their day would play out. It was true that Jim liked astronomy, although there was nothing he could learn from the documentary that was now playing on the screen. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t have chosen to watch it by himself though and he couldn’t help but think that it was rather cute of Sherlock to pick it. Perhaps they could watch something relating to forensic science later; the true crime category was filled with documentaries about both old and new cases that they could dissect together. Jim would be able to tell Sherlock how he would have planned those murders if they had been his clients’ and Sherlock could tell him how the police could have solved it all way earlier if they’d made the right deductions. 

“Huh.” He thought about this for a bit. “Maybe I do like this…”

Chapter Text

Sherlock laid on his side quietly and without moving when the numbers on the clock the bedside table changed to midnight. It meant that he had officially spent four hours in Jim’s flat. Four hours were a sixth of his day, even more if he didn’t count the hours he had been asleep. The unbidden thought of whether this type of visit was appropriate made its way into his head and he tried to ignore it. Surely meeting consulting criminals for sex was not more or less inappropriate based on where it happened. He either had to decide that his secret rendezvous with Jim were completely fine and he would continue or that they were inappropriate and had to stop. Except that would be the most boring option he could imagine. Perhaps the amount of time they spent together didn’t matter either. It wasn’t as if he was neglecting work after all. Jim shifted in his arms, reminding him that if anything, Sherlock had been very busy with work tonight. If anybody started asking questions, he could always say that he had been investigating Moriarty. He could practically see John’s worried facial expression. Still, it wouldn’t even be a complete lie. Sherlock was definitely learning new things about the criminal each time they met. Now that he had been to the man’s flat, he even knew which brand of cereal he preferred for breakfast and which colour he liked for his throw pillows. He couldn’t be sure that this was Jim’s actual flat and not just one of many places he stayed at, but he knew that the criminal wouldn’t stay somewhere if he found the decor absolutely distasteful. How exactly the interior design of the flat would be relevant to solve any cases was not quite clear to him yet, but who knew? 

Either way, he wouldn’t have to tell anyone what exactly he was investigating, only that he was looking for information about Moriarty. Even that was only the emergency backup plan in case John started questioning him too much about where he went. Investigating London’s most dangerous consulting criminal would be met with disapproval, but at least Sherlock wouldn’t have to come up with a way to explain why he enjoyed kissing the man. It wasn’t as if the whole thing made sense to him in the first place. Kissing seemed pointless even from an evolutionary standpoint and yet he could barely keep himself from pulling the criminal closer to him whenever they were in a room together. It was almost impressive that they had made it through dinner without ripping each other's clothes off– Although it was certainly for the best since Jim’s bed was clearly more comfortable than the dining table would have been. Sherlock interrupted his idle musings at the thought of the comfortable sheets. They had been lying in this position for quite some time now and nobody had spoken for at least thirty minutes. The alarm clock showed it was almost 12:15 am and he realised this was likely past any appropriate visiting hour. 

“It’s rather late. I suppose I should leave now.” He said quietly and politely in an attempt to give Jim an opportunity to agree rather than having to ask him to leave. Criminal or not, somehow Sherlock couldn’t quite imagine Jim being rude and kicking him out in an abrupt manner. There was a muffled sound against his chest and the criminal seemed to stretch before relaxing again, his arm still around Sherlock’s waist.

“Only if you have to… Or want to.” Despite the late hour and the general situation, Sherlock was surprised by how sleepy Jim's voice sounded. Yet another new piece of information that he could carefully tuck away in his mind palace for later revision. He quickly blocked out any questioning thoughts about how this could be relevant for work. It wasn’t as if his meetings with Jim were supposed to be about work in the first place. 

“Not really…” He hadn’t really thought about what he was going to say, but once it was out there he realised how true it was. He was in a warm bed, holding a quiet and sleepy criminal in a dimly lit room– Why would he want to get up and collect his creased clothes off the ground to run outside into the cold in the hopes of finding a cab that could bring him to Baker Street? 

When he opened his eyes, the reading lamp was no longer turned on and the sunlight was illuminating the room through the gaps in the blinds. Jim laid next to him, now with his back against Sherlock’s side. Despite the sleep-addled state he was in, he noticed that this no longer felt the same as their previous meetings. Kissing in the back of a car before getting out and moving on with work was one thing, even late-night visits could be pushed to the back of his mind once he’d left the hotel room and gone back home, but this…

Chapter Text

By 5 pm Jim let out a defeated groan and fumbled through the sheets until his fingers met the cold touchscreen of his phone. Too cold for comfort and yet another damning clue that he most likely had a fever at this point. The possibility of suffering through this without medication had become less attractive to him by the hour ever since he’d woken up with a headache and a sore throat that morning. Usually he would have texted Moran immediately, but his right-hand man was currently on a work trip around South America and wouldn’t be back for another week and Jim wasn’t about to share his private address with his less trustworthy employees. He hadn’t initially wanted to resort to his second option, but by now he felt miserable enough to give in and write a quick message.

Do me a favour, sweet detective? -JM

He couldn’t presume that Sherlock would have time to run errands for him, it wasn’t as if they owed each other anything. Still, it took less than a minute until he received a response.

What kind of favour? ;) -SH

Jim weakly smiled at his phone. Sherlock Holmes sending him a winking emoticon would never get old.

Ibuprofen, aspirin, whatever else you can find that might cure a fever and such. Can do you a sexy favour once I’m no longer contagious xx -JM

He felt defeated when he dropped the phone next to him. That message was neither clever nor very flirty. Stating facts and asking for help wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, but considering how terrible he felt, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care and quickly drifted off to sleep without waiting to see if there would be another text in response.

When Sherlock arrived at the flat he couldn’t see any lights coming from the windows. If he was visiting anybody else he would have picked the lock and let himself in, but with Jim’s security system it was entirely possible that he would trigger some sort of alarm and cause major chaos. He pressed the button next to the door and waited. Sherlock was already contemplating whether he should call the criminal on his mobile phone when he could finally hear a key being turned in the lock. When the door opened, he realised that this was definitely nothing like his usual visits. While Jim was usually dressed in a fitted suit and opened the door with a flirty smile on his lips, today was the exact opposite. The criminal was wrapped in a blanket and seemed to be wearing sweatpants and a hoodie underneath. His face looked paler than usual and he barely managed to smile at all, let alone make it look flirtatious. 

“Hey.” Sherlock said awkwardly before lifting the bags he was holding. “Brought you some things.”

“Thanks.” Jim croaked weakly, stepping aside to let him into the flat. It didn’t take any advanced deduction skills to realise that Jim was feeling terrible. Sherlock knew the criminal to be someone who took great care in how he presented himself and while he hadn’t expected to find Jim in a suit today, it still felt strange to see him huddled in a blanket and shivering.

“This is everything I could get at the pharmacy without a prescription– John wasn’t home, besides I wasn’t entirely sure whether you felt bad enough to warrant an interrogation about why I needed prescription-only medication. Then there’s tea– I assume you have your own but just in case. Here’s a bunch of instant soup” He pulled several packets of soup from his second bag and dropped it on the counter next to the paper bag from the pharmacy. “Honey, for the tea. Though I suppose you can just eat it? Either way there’s enough of it to try both. Brought you some apples in case you want something solid and they had this healthy juice–” He gave the green liquid a doubtful look before placing the bottle on the counter. “The sign said it’s filled with vitamins to get you through winter so I figured it might help. I think that’s everything; need anything else?” He looked up to find Jim staring at the mess on his kitchen counter. “Too much?”

“Uh… No, just didn’t expect–” The criminal made a vague gesture towards the apples and the soup. It was truly fascinating to see Jim Moriarty in this state and although Sherlock wasn’t happy about the criminal’s illness, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

“I’ll make some of that tea then, I’ll leave it to you to pick what you need from these.” He pushed the paper bag with the medicine towards the criminal and shrugged out of his coat before familiarising himself with the kitchen where he quickly found a large mug and a spoon. 

“You probably shouldn’t stay here. Might catch the sickness.” Jim said weakly from behind him while rummaging through the bag. It would make sense of course, there was a realistic chance of getting sick if he stayed around and he had brought enough medicine and sustenance to last for a couple of days at least, but Sherlock didn’t really want to leave.

“It’s fine, I– Well you have a fever. If that gets out of control while you’re alone you could die.” He turned around to see Jim giving him a slightly confused look.

“Why would you say– Nevermind. Suit yourself, I’m going to crawl back into bed and be miserable.” The criminal grabbed the bag from the pharmacy and turned around, shuffling into the direction of his bedroom without turning back. So sick he wasn’t even in the mood for games. Sherlock couldn’t help but think about how fascinating it was to get to see Jim in a situation where he wasn’t in control. It was a unique opportunity to learn more about a side of the criminal that he didn’t usually get to see. Despite all the time they’d spent together, there was always a certain respectful distance between them. Only now Jim was too tired to care and still hadn’t seen the need to send him away which was quite interesting. 

Sherlock frowned at the items on the kitchen counter. Perhaps he too was starting to get more involved then he’d initially expected.

Chapter Text

“I bet you’re average in bed.” Jim remarked in the most casual tone before taking a sip of tea from his cup. Sitting across from him, Sherlock opened his mouth and closed it again without responding. How exactly their conversation had gotten to this point was beyond him by now, but it was clear that the consulting criminal was trying to taunt him and Sherlock had never liked when people told him he wasn’t good at something.

“You have absolutely no proof for that.” He retorted rather weakly. 

“Oh? So what, you think you’re a god? That you could make me scream?” Jim lifted the corner of his lips into a half-smile, obviously amused by how easy it had been to provoke the consulting detective. 

“Can’t be that difficult with your tendency to yap.” Sherlock replied coldly, doing his best to hide how twitchy he was getting after sitting around in the living room for over half an hour, doing nothing but exchanging clever quips and insults. 

“Ah, ah ah, darling. Big difference. I guess that just proves it though…” The criminal said lazily before shrugging as if that was the end of the conversation. Sherlock knew it was a bad idea to let Jim’s words get to him like that, but he’d already listened to the criminal going on about how boring his life must be considering he had to stay in line to avoid getting into trouble with Mycroft. He couldn’t just sit there all day and accept Jim’s taunts and insults without proving him wrong. Or didn’t want to anyway. Knowing it was rather childish but not really being bothered by that fact, Sherlock quickly slid out of his chair and lurched towards the criminal, firmly pressing their lips together. Jim froze for a second, but placed a hand on the back of Sherlock’s neck and licked over his bottom lip once the shock wore off. It was a messy kiss, Sherlock half-leaning on Jim’s legs and resting most of his weight on one knee while the criminal was trying to pull him closer. Sex couldn’t be that difficult, surely he would figure it out quickly enough to show Jim how wrong he was so this encounter could end with Sherlock feeling triumphant. Just because he generally didn’t care to pursue it didn’t mean that he was absolutely clueless, all he had to do was slowly guide the criminal to his bedroom without interrupting their kiss. They’d leave their clothes behind while making their way there and then he could roll on top of Jim and make him scream just as he’d promised.

Only whatever Sherlock remembered from movies was not quite that easy in real life. They stumbled over discarded shoes, Jim’s belt got stuck somehow and if they hadn’t stopped kissing while walking someone probably would have bitten their lip. Even once they’d made it to the bedroom things didn’t go as he’d imagined. With Jim still half-dressed on the bed, Sherlock scrambled through his drawer to find lube, telling the giggling criminal to just wait a second. At least it turned out that sex was not difficult, just as he’d expected. It was a bit messy and in their case a bit clumsy and uncoordinated– to the point that they’d given up on getting fully undressed at some point. The actual act itself though was surprisingly good and Sherlock had all but forgotten the reason for their little detour to the bedroom by the time he reached his climax. Blood slowly returning to his brain, he found himself leaning over Jim while the criminal was still holding on to him and breathing heavily. 

“That was…” Jim had an unusually soft smile on his lips. “Both the least naughty and best sex I’ve ever had.” The consulting criminal looked more than happy about this realisation, but Sherlock was left rather confused.

“Least naughty?” In his mind, what they had just done was probably the definition of naughty.

“I still have my shirt on, for one.” Jim’s eyes flickered down towards his creased shirt, the buttons of which had been too testing for Sherlock’s patience. “Besides, you didn’t call me a whore or slut even once.” He frowned at that. As much as he and Jim enjoyed throwing insults at each other, he hadn’t seen a need to call the criminal any names while they’d been intimate with each other. 

“Was I supposed to?” 

“No, not at all. You were delightful. I think you forgot to try really hard to impress me, which is probably good.” Jim was still smiling at him, but there was no sign of malice or mockery on his face.

“Either way, you said it was the best? So either you were wrong and I’m not average or you’ve just been really unlucky so far.” He tried to replicate the mocking tone Jim had used during their conversation in the living room earlier, but his voice was softer and he couldn’t quite stop himself from smiling either.

“Maybe both. And maybe we should get up before I start liking you.” Jim’s smile widened, making it rather obvious that he wasn’t actually in a hurry to leave.

“I’m still inside you and you’re worried about liking me a little?” He lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Depends… If I admit that I like you a little, would that mean we can do this again sometime?” There was a hint of mischief in the criminal's smile now.

“Why would we ever do that?” Regardless of whether it had felt good or not, there was no logical reason for a repetition.

“I don’t know Sherlock, science? Boredom?” Jim had a knowing smirk on his face. Of course boredom was a good argument. 

“I think you should leave before someone sees you here.” He slowly managed to roll off the criminal and tried to look as if his brain wasn’t currently overwhelmed with thoughts of what had just happened and what might follow in the future.

“Sure.” He could hear the sheets rustling behind him as Jim was getting up and collecting his clothes. “I’ll see you when you get bored then.” 

When he turned around, the criminal was gone.

Chapter Text

“I love you so much.” Jim mumbled against the skin of Sherlock’s neck before treating the consulting detective to some kisses. It was early afternoon on a cold and rainy Saturday so they hadn’t bothered to get dressed properly and were lounging in the living room in their pyjamas and dressing gowns.

“Mmh… I love you more.” Sherlock leaned his head back with a dreamy smile on his face to give Jim better access to his neck. A few years ago he would have thought it impossible that he would ever say something so silly, but now it was almost a regular occurrence. Being silly with Jim was actually a lot of fun, even if it sometimes included being sickeningly sweet to each other. Moments like this were meant in good fun and they were, in a sense, only doing it as a joke, even if there was some truth behind the words. If Sherlock had to name a reason for these types of conversations he would explain that they simply liked fighting each other and on a slow weekend when there was no work to discuss they simply had no other topic left. 

“No you don’t! I love you more. So much more.” Jim countered before giving Sherlock’s earlobe a little bite, almost as if to warn him not to argue back.

“For once, you are wrong.” Sherlock cupped the criminal’s cheek and smiled at him before placing a soft kiss on his lips. In truth, he wasn’t really worried about whether one of them loved the other more. That particular emotion was still a bit of a mystery to the detective and he’d never bothered trying to measure it. Realising that what he had started to feel for Jim was in fact love had been the only necessary reflection on the topic. They’d both admitted that they had started to have some embarrassingly sentimental feelings for each other and that had been the end of the discussion. While they did both occasionally express their feelings, it wasn’t something that needed to be said every day. There was no need for words when their actions regularly proved how much they really cared for each other and they spent whole hours lying next to each other and doing nothing but kissing, holding each other and exchanging meaningful looks. 

“No, you just overestimate yourself– as per usual.” Jim looked at him almost as if he was pitying Sherlock for being so wrong about this.

“As per usual? May I remind you of what you said last night about… Oh, I don’t know, something along the lines of your mind being blown and your brain melting?”

“Alright, stop !” They both turned their heads towards the armchair by the fireplace where John had folded his newspaper on his lap and was now scowling at them. “You two are being disgusting.”

“Oh come on Johnny-Boy, you said you don’t mind…” Jim leaned his head back, signalling how exhausting it was for him to be reminded of Sherlock’s flatmate. 

“No, I said I won’t call the Yard or better yet MI5. I never said I wanted to watch you two dry-humping on the couch.” The tone of John’s voice made it clear that he was rather tired of the two consultants.

“We’re not humping .” Sherlock replied indignantly, ignoring the fact that Jim was currently sitting on his lap.

“He’s just jealous.” Jim shrugged before leaning in for another kiss.

“I’m not jealous. Whatever Mrs Hudson might think, I didn’t move in here wanting to marry Sherlock.” John pulled a face at the sight of Moriarty’s tongue against his best friend’s lips.

“I never said you were jealous of me…” Jim smiled devilishly, knowing that this would only infuriate the doctor further.

“I’m not jealous of anyone, now get a room .” It had been one thing when Sherlock had occasionally brought Jim home to stay the night; John had been as good as on his way to bed himself then and their interactions had been limited. Having the criminal in the flat during the weekend was different, especially if it meant he couldn’t even read his paper without being subjected to the sound of kissing and giggling. Not to mention the verbal exchange he’d just witnessed.

“You know what? I think we will!” Jim quickly managed to get out of Sherlock’s arms and walked towards the detective’s bedroom without looking back. John was pleasantly surprised.

“You’re not actually… Jealous of me for being with Jim, are you?” Sherlock asked after he got up from the couch, giving his friend a slightly concerned look.

“Sherlock, please go look after your boyfriend before I change my mind about MI5.” John energetically grabbed and unfolded his newspaper, a clear sign that the conversation was over.

“Do you really think he’s jealous?” Sherlock asked once he’d closed the bedroom door behind him.

“Of you?” Jim was already sprawled out on the bed as if he’d never left it in the first place. “He would be if he had good taste.”

“Yes, but you don’t think he has good taste.” Sherlock shrugged out of his dressing gown and sat on the edge of the bed where he immediately got pulled closer by the consulting criminal.

“No. He’s probably jealous because he can’t get a second date although he’s trying really hard and you landed yourself a boyfriend although you have absolutely no flirting skills whatsoever.” There was a little smile in Jim’s voice as he bit the detective’s neck.

“I can flirt.”

“You can be clever and intimidating. That works for me, but it’s not really flirting.”

Sherlock looked at the criminal who had both arms wrapped around him by now. Perhaps the secret was to not look for a partner. He certainly hadn’t planned to be in a relationship, but Jim was fun to be around– and impossible to get rid of.

“Maybe he just needs to find the right person.” Sherlock smirked at the criminal, making it very clear what the implication was.

Chapter Text

By the time Jim got home it was almost 1 am and he didn’t even bother turning on the lights in the living room or kitchen. He quickly threw his coat over the back of a chair, dropped his bag next to it and walked into the bathroom where he discarded all of his clothes and stepped into the shower. Feeling the hot water on his skin felt like a relief and he simply stood there to enjoy it for a few minutes before quickly grabbing some shower gel to finish getting cleaned up. As much as Jim enjoyed a good shower, he was looking forward to falling into bed so he didn’t waste any more time before towelling off. Now feeling somewhat refreshed and clean, he made his way to the bedroom wearing a pair of briefs and a loose t-shirt. Nights like this weren’t a complete anomaly for the consulting criminal, but he found them more annoying these days. He wasn’t sure whether it was related to aging or to the fact that he simply had better things to do now.

“Hey…” He greeted sleepily as he crawled into bed.

“Bad night?” Sherlock asked, looking up from the book he had been reading and stretching out his left arm to offer Jim a space to rest. Sometimes their roles were reversed and it would be Sherlock who came home in the early hours of the morning. On several occasions he had been so late that Jim had already been asleep, unable to stay up and wait any longer. It had never become a point of contention though; they both knew that their work was like that sometimes and they would be bored without it.

“Just… Long.” He quickly pressed himself against Sherlock’s side and closed his eyes. There was some movement before he heard the distinct sound of the light being switched off and he could feel Sherlock move around until he was lying down properly, his book obviously placed on the bedside table by now.

“Working late when I know you’re in bed waiting for me is criminal.” Jim mumbled against the fabric of Sherlock’s shirt.

“Criminal, hm?” There was an obvious smile in the detective’s voice as he wrapped both arms around him to pull him closer.

“Illegal.” Right now, Jim really felt that it should be illegal to be caught in an hour-long discussion with a client when Sherlock and the soft sheets had been right here this whole time. 

“Quite the turn of events if that was what got you arrested in the end.” Sherlock’s voice was soft in Jim’s ear and he couldn’t help but fully appreciate how good it felt to finally be home.

“You’d bail me out, wouldn’t you?” He shifted to look up at the detective although it was too dark in the room to make out anything past the vague shape of his head.

“Sounds more like something that would be your specialty.” Jim hummed softly since Sherlock had a point. 

“But still, you’d get me… Either way, would it kill you to kiss me?” To that, Sherlock responded by immediately leaning over him and trapping him in a gentle kiss. Jim resisted the urge to giggle; sometimes it felt as if he would never get used to this. At first, getting bored had been his biggest worry, but then time passed and he’d realised that even after weeks, months, then years, Sherlock was still just as intriguing as he had been on day one. If anything things had gotten even more interesting now that they were no longer pretending to have casual meetings that didn’t mean much in the end.

“I’d get you…” Sherlock mumbled against his lips and Jim didn’t doubt it for a second.

Their relationship was definitely more calm than it had been in the beginning. While they still enjoyed teasing each other or making sarcastic jokes, there was a lot more honesty now. Sherlock would get him out of trouble if necessary and they both knew it. Jokes about how they’d end up killing each other had been so prevalent at the beginning but were very rare at this point. Perhaps because neither of them wanted to even consider the possibility of living without the other at this point. Though those kinds of threats were necessary on the odd occasion where Sherlock would try to eat the last slice of cake without sharing it with Jim.

“You’re so sweet… I don’t know why I bother leaving the house and talking to all those people.” In moments like this it was hard to believe that he could ever get bored of lying in bed with Sherlock. Why should he miss work when it was so annoying to deal with his clients’ demands all day long. Then there was the traffic, the cold wind, the crowds and whatever other appointments he had to deal with. It didn’t really sound appealing at the moment.

“May I remind you of our last trip?” Sherlock sounded amused.

Probably because their last trip had ended with Jim getting involved with the Mafia instead of spending two weeks lying by the pool. In hindsight, Sicily had been a questionable choice of destination from the start.

“Maybe you need to put more effort in keeping me distracted?” He held back a little laugh. Sherlock had spent every waking minute with him during that trip; only one afternoon he’d fallen asleep and Jim had decided to go for a walk on his own which was where the trouble had started.

“You’re incorrigible. It’s hopeless.” Sherlock concluded. “Wouldn’t want it any other way of course.”

Jim smiled. He could feel himself slowly drifting off to sleep while he thought about where they could go on their next trip. Perhaps they’d be safe from work on a private island…

Chapter Text

It was one of those nights where they’d given up all pretense and simply exchanged a few texts before deciding to meet at Jim’s flat where they ended up kissing for the majority of the evening. Sherlock had had enough interesting cases recently to stop him from getting bored and Jim was simply tired after a long flight back to London. On nights like this one, they didn’t bother sitting at a table and playing games for hours before getting to the less intellectual activities. As much as Jim enjoyed being a notorious consulting criminal in his tailored suits and with his exaggerated mannerisms; there was something comforting about lying in Sherlock’s arm in a soft t-shirt and not having to think about what he was about to say next. He could even say nothing at all if he didn’t feel like it. Sherlock had been kissing his neck enthusiastically for the past few minutes and Jim couldn’t think of anything that would make him want to get out of bed at this point.

“You like that, hmm?” Sherlock’s voice almost made him shiver. “Being wanted…” It was then that Jim realised the detective was making a deduction rather than some throwaway comment.

“Don’t we all?” He smiled and couldn’t remember Sherlock being anything but pleased whenever Jim was giving him some attention.

“To a degree, but you really seem to enjoy this.” Luckily for him, their conversation hadn’t stopped Sherlock from continuing to press kisses against his skin.

“Hmm… Well you like being praised.” Jim stated without hesitation.

“Oh please.” Sherlock made an attempt to roll onto his back, but Jim quickly snaked his arms around his neck and held him close.

“Oh but you do! You love when I tell you how well you’ve done or how clever you are.” He could almost feel Sherlock relax at his words. 

“They’re compliments. Everyone likes them.” The detective tried to talk his way out of it but Jim wasn’t about to let this go.

“You’re such a good boy…” He whispered straight into Sherlock’s ear and could practically feel the man on top of him melt. That reaction didn’t really come as a surprise to Jim, but he was quite happy to see it nonetheless.

“You always do so well for me… So eager to please…” He continued while Sherlock shakily exhaled against his neck.

“Fine– Fine, you made your point!” All of a sudden it seemed that the detective was no longer as smug as he’d been a few minutes ago. Jim was very proud of his work. 

“Which point was that again?” He playfully scraped his teeth against the detective’s jaw.

“Jimmm…” The criminal was starting to think that this was the best evening he’d had for a while.

“Hm? Tell me what you want and I might give it to you.” 

“You’re easily the most annoying– Fine! You got me hard, can you do something about it?” Sherlock had never been a patient man, the bullet holes in his living room wall were proof of that, but once he’d started meeting Jim like this it had only become more apparent. The first time they kissed had started rather gently until the consulting detective had had enough time to process how good it felt, which had promptly led him to pulling Jim closer with no intention of letting go again for the next couple of hours at the very least. Before that, Sherlock would have expected Jim to be the greedy one and he was quite happy he’d never voiced that thought because Jim would have never let him forget how wrong he’d been. 

“I mean, I could…” Jim bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. Sherlock was practically writhing against him now, cock hard against Jim’s leg and desperately pushing his hips forward. As much as he would have loved to let the detective whine for another ten minutes, Jim’s self-restraint was practically non-existent in situations like this. Knowing that he could be touching Sherlock right now was enough to make him forget about everything else he had going on in his life, including how much fun it was to tease the detective. 

“You really should.” Sherlock argued, still trying to rub himself against Jim’s leg. 

“Oh? Why’s that?” It was quite funny how the more someone encouraged Jim to do something, the less inclined he felt to actually do it.

“I’ll give you something in return?” 

“A token of gratitude?” He smirked at Sherlock who was starting to look more frustrated by the second. “Whatever could that possibly be?” There was something beautiful about the way Sherlock was begging for more when he could have easily pushed Jim into the pillows and overwhelmed him. So much for wanting to be wanted.

Chapter Text

Jim watched in agony as a large cloud of flour seemed to encase half of this kitchen. Perhaps an open living space hadn’t been such a good idea after all; the sofa suddenly seemed dangerously close to the kitchen counter. 

“Are you sure this i–” He didn’t even manage to finish his question before London’s most successful consulting detective pointed a spatula at him, covering parts of the counter in egg yolk in the process.

“You just wait. This is going to be the best thing you’ve ever tasted in your life.” Awfully sure of himself for someone who had never baked anything in his whole life, Sherlock went back to mixing the concoction in the large bowl in front of him. A lazy afternoon on the couch had quickly turned into a threat for Jim’s kitchen when they’d started watching Bake Off for lack of better options. For Jim it was the sort of thing he’d watch on occasion if he didn’t have it in him to focus on anything with more substance. Apparently for Sherlock it was the kind of show that inspired an outburst of confidence in his non-existent baking skills. It hadn’t taken long for the detective to scoff at the contestants and claim that they were making obvious mistakes. Then Jim had made the big mistake of asking Sherlock how he would even know and whether he thought he’d be able to do better. He should have known this couldn’t lead anywhere good.

After a lengthy monologue about how baking was basically just chemistry, Sherlock had insisted on proving his point. Looking at the state of his kitchen, Jim almost wished he’d forced Moran to stick around after dropping off the baking supplies. At least he’d be able to throw a few mournful looks in his right hand man’s direction while Sherlock was covering the room in sugar and egg. 

“He didn’t get me one of those flame thingies so I might have to improvise…” The detective mumbled mostly to himself while Jim’s eyes grew wider. Funny how everyone was always worried about Sherlock’s well-being whenever he spent time with Jim when it was actually the detective who was more likely to burn the place down in the midst of a baking contest against himself. He’d initially challenged Jim to bake something too so they could compare their results and rate them, but so far he’d managed to stay out of the kitchen. Unlike Sherlock, Jim had actually baked something before and while it hadn’t been a lemon meringue pie, his cookies and cake had always been safe to eat and quite enjoyable. Sherlock on the other hand had spent his life being fed by either his family or his landlady, so he’d never seen the point in cooking or baking until a few hours ago when it had occurred to him that it could be some sort of challenge. 

“Luckily you don’t need one of those for most things…” If it had been up to him, he would have suggested a simple chocolate chip cookie recipe for Sherlock’s first attempt at making something edible.

“I had a few ideas… Oh well, next time. And stop looking at me like that, baking is just like chemistry if you think about it, so this is going to be spectacular by the time it’s done.” Jim, who had just been texting Moran to stand by with a fire extinguisher, looked up just in time to see Sherlock push a tray into the preheated oven before turning on the timer. Since the detective had refused to wear an apron and was also generally reckless when it came to handling flour, he was now covered in the white powder to the point where Jim wanted to spray him down in the shower. Despite the mess and the probably inedible dessert that was currently coming to life in the oven, Jim couldn’t help but think that Sherlock, flour in hair and enthusiasm in his eyes, looked incredibly handsome. 

“What?” Apparently he’d been staring at the detective long enough for it to be questioned.

“Don’t you think you’ve been neglecting me a bit over the past two hours?” He smiled sheepishly as he got up from where he’d been sitting to observe Sherlock and walked around the counter to join him in the kitchen.

“Mh– I probably taste like half a bakery by now.” Sherlock warned, having no trouble deducing what it was Jim wanted.

“You think that makes it any less appealing?” Ignoring the inevitable cleaning that would have to follow, Jim wrapped his arms around the detective’s waist and pulled him closer for a kiss. It was true that Sherlock tasted a lot like dessert after all the dough-tasting he had done while baking, but for Jim that just seemed like another reason to kiss his handsome boyfriend. 

He pulled back with a smile after a few seconds.

“You’re a mess.” It wasn’t a particularly serious complaint.

“Nothing a shower can’t fix.” It could have been an innocent comment, but the look in Sherlock's eyes gave away what he had in mind.

“Hmm. Maybe I should come with you to make sure it all washes out…”

“You should. Going alone would be reckless. I might slip and fall.” Sherlock did his best to look concerned.

“My God. That would be awful!” He grabbed Sherlock’s hand in played shock and proceeded to drag him towards the bathroom.

Chapter Text

“Okay, but how did you know that the necklace wasn’t stolen by a burglar?” John asked once he and Sherlock entered their flat in Baker Street.

“The curtains! Wasn’t it obvious ?” Sherlock carelessly dropped his coat over the armrest of the couch before walking over to John’s laptop, which he opened and logged in to as if it was his own.

“Would I ask if it was– Nevermind, the curtains, of course. You were right and everyone else was wrong, the daughter was the thief, you figured it all–” Sherlock was already so focused on his search for the next case, that he didn’t notice his flatmate had stopped mid-sentence.

“Sherlock? What’s this?” At the mention of his name, the consulting detective looked up and saw John standing in their kitchen, apparently looking at the table. He hesitated for a moment. There was a very high chance that John was upset about one of Sherlock’s experiments or the lack of clean dishes, both of which were not worth getting up for. On the other hand, it didn’t look like there was a big case waiting for him so he might as well get up to change into something more comfortable and he could stop in the kitchen on his way to the bedroom. With one last glance at the screen in front of him, Sherlock pushed himself up and walked over to John.

“What is what?” He could now confirm that the doctor was looking at their dining table, which was covered in Sherlock’s work most of the time. Only right now it looked a bit tidier than usual and there was a new microscope next to his old one. Next to it was a card that read:

Congratulations, you have successfully survived another year. xx  -JM

“That is a microscope. And a birthday card.” Sherlock explained factually. The last thing he needed was for John to throw him a big birthday party, but there was no way he could hide the fact from his friend now that this card had shown up.

“It is your birthday ? And you– JM, that’s– Sherlock, why is Moriarty sending you a present? You don’t think it’s a bomb, do you?!” John’s eyes kept darting from the microscope, to the card and then to Sherlock.

“No, it’s a present and a card, nothing more.” He quickly grabbed the card off the table so John could stop staring at it.

“Why would Moriarty send you a present?” 

“Because it is customary to get people presents for their birthdays. Not that I usually care for such traditions, but it seems he got me one anyway.” While John still looked very shocked and confused, Sherlock couldn’t help but notice that it was a very nice compound microscope that came with one of the most praised computer softwares that made it very easy to connect a laptop and send or save pictures of the research. The magnification was better than on his old model too.

“But– Why ?” John asked, almost exasperated at this point.

“Probably because he wants to give me a reason to keep sleeping with him… It’s working, this is really high-quality, must have cost a small fortune.” He leaned over his new microscope so he could see the outlets at the back to check which cable he would need to connect it to his laptop.

“He– Sent this so you’d sleep with him ?” 

“No, I’m already sleeping with him. Well, to be perfectly fair he didn’t have to get me anything. I would have continued anyway, but don’t tell him that. He’s too full of himself as it is, no need to encourage him.” 

“You– Why? ” Sherlock turned away from his new microscope and saw that his friend looked rather irritated now.

“Hm?”

“Why on Earth would you sleep with him?!” It definitely sounded like an accusation.

“Oh, that. It’s stimulating in more than one way. He’s also a lot more pleasant to be around now.” When John simply stared at him with wide eyes he continued. “Well, less frustrated. Which means there’s less threats and when he does voice one it doesn’t sound very serious. He did just buy me a microscope that could help me solve cases in the future.” He made a mental note to make sure never to mention this to Jim directly. If the consulting criminal knew that Sherlock wasn’t taking his threats seriously anymore he would do something drastic to change that immediately. It would only give John more reasons to complain and make Sherlock’s life more difficult. 

“Anyway, I better go and send him a message. It is a rather thoughtful present after all.” He left a dumbfounded John in the kitchen and walked to his bedroom where he closed the door behind him before pulling out his phone.

Thank you for the present. -SH

Though your note does sound like a bit of a threat? -SH

He definitely appreciated that the present was something useful and not a bunch of flowers or an expensive bottle of wine. With a bit of luck he’d soon solve one of Jim’s case with the help of his new microscope and then he could make sure to let the criminal know about it. 

Not a threat. Just an observation. You are alive. -JM

Still sounds ominous. -SH

Despite everything, one could never know with Jim. 

I’m also alive. Perhaps we should celebrate? -JM

Still suspicious. -SH

But I see your point. -SH

He smiled at his phone. 

Chapter Text

It was a Thursday evening when Sherlock found himself lounging on the plush pillows of Jim’s bed while the criminal laid in his arms and kissed his neck. They had been in this position for a while now and it was getting increasingly late but neither of them had spoken up to bring an end to their meeting. Within the past weeks this had become increasingly common. At first they had only met once every few weeks and never at their actual flats. Then, as the meetings had become more frequent, Jim had caved and told Sherlock to come over to his place instead since he couldn’t be bothered looking for decent hotel rooms any longer. A private flat was more quiet anyway and the risk of running into someone they knew or being recorded by CCTV was much lower this way, even if it was to the detriment of Jim’s own privacy. Still, it wasn’t as if Sherlock had moved in with him. They had met up at the flat at irregular intervals whenever they could; Sherlock would stay for an hour or two and leave. Only now it had gotten to the point where they didn’t just meet to have sex in between work obligations. Instead, Sherlock had arrived a couple of hours ago and they hadn’t done much apart from kissing and exchanging a few words about work and such. 

While Sherlock was considering whether he should leave or wait until Jim told him to, there was a sudden rumbling noise that interrupted the silence, followed by a groan from the consulting criminal.

“Uh, do you mind if I make some quick dinner?” Jim’s question confirmed Sherlock’s suspicion of what the noise had been. Jim was hungry.

“No, go on…” What else was he supposed to say? It was Jim’s flat after all. Only the criminal’s question and the mention of making dinner quickly insinuated that he wasn’t telling Sherlock to leave, but rather asking him to wait for a while. When the criminal got up, Sherlock awkwardly followed him to the kitchen, pulling his half-unbuttoned shirt back over his shoulder in an attempt to look more put together. 

“Did you want some? It’s enough for two.” Jim looked at him while holding up a packet of spaghetti. Sherlock shrugged and nodded. He hadn’t exactly thought about whether he was hungry or not within the past few hours, but considering that he wasn’t busy at the moment he might as well eat with Jim rather than watching the criminal having dinner on his own. 

For the next few minutes, Sherlock awkwardly walked around the kitchen, trying not to be in the way as Jim filled a pot with water and set it to boil before starting to cut up some onions. It was slightly jarring to see the criminal in this environment. Of course Sherlock logically knew that everyone had to eat at some point and he had also seen the kitchen before and it only seemed obvious that Jim would occasionally use it in favour of ordering take out. Still, Jim Moriarty standing in the kitchen with rolled-up shirt sleeves and messy hair, cutting onions and weighing pasta was not something he’d ever expected to see. Oddly enough he found it quite nice to look at.

Less than half an hour later, Sherlock found himself sitting across the table from Jim and eating dinner while some music played in the background. It had felt a bit unusual to have a short conversation about pepper and salt some minutes before. They had only ever talked about work or related topics in the past, perhaps a short comment about a nearby book had been made, but certainly nothing as mundane as whether they liked salt in their food.

“I could get you a toothbrush. If you plan on staying the night…” Jim suggested once they had finished dinner and put the dishes away. Sherlock blinked in confusion for a moment. He’d stayed overnight before, but it had never been planned or discussed. It simply happened when they got comfortable in bed for a while, but neither of them had ever felt the need to talk about it.

Despite this, Sherlock decided that he was not in the mood to grab his coat and leave. Having dinner and staying the night would be unusual, but it was definitely not going to be as boring and irritating as getting a cab back home and sitting around on his own. And so he found himself in Jim Moriarty’s bathroom later that night; brushing his teeth with a new toothbrush while the consulting criminal next to him splashed his face with water, patted the skin dry with a small towel and started applying a cream to it. Upon spotting Sherlock’s lifted eyebrow in the reflection of the mirror,Jim only warned him not to say anything. Sherlock only shrugged. Of course there was no actual reason to mock him for this. It wasn’t as if Sherlock didn’t have his own routine to make sure his skin stayed hydrated; not to mention the hair. But seeing Jim doing something as banal as getting ready for bed was new. Suddenly, Sherlock wanted to know everything. How many alarms did Jim use in the morning when he had to get to a meeting? What was his preferred breakfast? Did he take warm or cold showers? How long would he stay in the shower? Was he the quick and efficient type or would he stay under a hot spray of water for minutes on end just because he felt comfortable? Did Jim wear pyjamas when he was alone? Would he spend the evenings in his suit or change into something else once he got home for work? How often did he cook his own meals and which dishes was he able to make given the necessary time and ingredients?

“Sherlock?” Jim was giving him a questioning look. He’d gotten so intrigued by what he might be able to find out that he’d almost forgotten that he was brushing his teeth. He quickly made sure to finish while the criminal shook his head in amusement and turned towards the bedroom. Apparently Jim didn’t seem to question the almost domestic nature of their evening. Sherlock smiled. As long as Jim didn’t mind, he would be able to find the answers to all of his questions. 

Chapter Text

Waking up to the sound of heavy footsteps on wooden stairs and keys being dropped on the floor was all Jim needed in order to know that he had not fallen asleep in his own bed the previous night. The voice of a sleepy consulting detective swearing as he scrambled to turn his head and check whether the door was still closed was all it took to remind Jim of where he had slept instead. Why exactly he had made his way to Baker Street to taunt the detective at his own front door was beyond him at this point. He’d probably just been bored again. Either way, spitting insults at Jim had apparently not been enough for Sherlock and after pushing the criminal against the wall in the hallway downstairs, they’d quickly ended up kissing and stumbling upstairs to the bedroom. Which is where they were now, only it was no longer late at night and the room was illuminated by the daylight that fell in through the curtains. Jim’s designer suit was sacrilegiously crumpled up on the carpet and the noise was most likely caused by none other than John Watson who must be on his way to work or something. Jim didn’t really care. He wished he could remove the doctor from the flat with a snap of his fingers so Sherlock would stop staring at the stupid door and turn around to look at him instead. Look at him and do all the other things they’d done the previous night. Turns out Sherlock could actually be a lot of fun once he got over himself and started letting go.

He stretched out his hand and let his fingers dance across the detective’s arm to steal his attention. Sherlock did finally turn around to look at him, but it wasn’t the type of look Jim would have liked to see. 

“Quiet, he’s about to leave!” Sherlock hissed before quickly turning around again to stare at the door. Meanwhile all Jim got to look at was the detective’s exposed back. As nice as that could have been under different circumstances, he didn’t quite enjoy it at that moment. Perhaps it was his own fault. It wasn’t as if Sherlock had officially invited him into his flat with open arms and told him to make himself at home. Jim quietly listened as cups were moved around in the kitchen and the fridge was opened and closed before the footsteps made their way downstairs. 

“Right.” Jim started. “Guess I’ll sneak out then.” He’d barely gotten to turn away from the detective before he felt an arm around his waist that held him back.

“No, I–” Sherlock effortlessly draped himself across Jim and pressed a quick kiss to his neck. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t shake off the detective’s arm, get out of bed and leave. He could , if he wanted to.

“Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome…” He remarked in an attempt to sound casual. The last thing he was going to do was to admit that he felt rather rejected at the moment. Despite all logic and the fact that they’d initially started the previous night by fighting downstairs, it had been a rather lovely evening and being ignored after a night of kissing and touching definitely didn’t feel good.

“Jim, just–” Sherlock clearly didn’t know what he was going to say, opting instead to simply hold on to him and pull him back under the sheets. “He’s left for work now.”

“Mhm, I get it…” It was probably a good thing that Jim didn’t owe himself an explanation for his current mood because it might have been difficult to put into words. On one hand it was painfully clear that Sherlock didn’t owe him any courtesy, but on the other it plainly felt like shit to be hidden away from the detective’s flatmate as if he was some dirty little secret; last night’s mistake that nobody could ever find out about.

“Stop sulking. I doubt you’d enjoy the tirade he’d go on if he found you here.” The detective mumbled against his neck before pressing another kiss to his skin. That did sound a bit nicer at least. 

“Hmm… Going to need a bit more to convince me…” Although Sherlock’s explanation did make sense and Jim was definitely not in the mood to listen to Watson in the early morning, he would definitely not mind being sweet-talked a bit more. While the detective shifted around behind him to get comfortable, Jim looked at the room around him. He was definitely in Sherlock’s bedroom, which apparently included an old microscope on the floor next to a dresser and a lot of books and random items strewn across every surface. There was even a picture of the Holmes brothers at what looked to be Sherlock's graduation and Jim wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that they’d gotten off in front of Mycroft’s likeness. 

“You can stay for… Breakfast? Though I’m not sure we have any breakfast food.” Sherlock replied helplessly while Jim examined what he could see of the room.

“Charming. I suppose tea is fine.” He stretched his neck and pushed himself closer against the detective. The truth was that he didn’t particularly care about the contents of the fridge in the first place. 

“You didn’t kill me in my sleep. I suppose that’s progress.” Sherlock remarked as if he was talking about something as insignificant as the weather.

“Progress? Towards which goal?” Jim couldn’t help but smile into the pillows a little.

“Not wanting to kill each other, I suppose.” Sherlock’s lips were definitely back on Jim’s neck now.

“Huh. Didn’t know that was the goal… Though I suppose that would be alright. If I get something else instead.” He grinned as he felt Sherlock’s hand gliding lower.