The Gay Is On (Johnlock)

Chapter 17

(A/N: this has gotten so many viewers, thank you all so much xx)

After a few more minutes of Sherlock and John browsing through their inboxes for an interesting case, John clicked on one with the subject line reading the name he hated most: "MORIARTY". His heart skipped a beat as he read the email, sent just two hours ago. "Sh-Sherlock," his voice was almost a whisper. "Come here."

Sherlock walked over to John and leaned close to him. He read the email aloud.

"Hello, boys. It's been far too long since I've paid a visit to you two. Meet me at 239 Churchill Street in the alley between the buildings at 5:00 so we can play. I'd advise you not to be late." You could practically hear Moriarty's smug tone through the email. "Hugs and kisses, JM. P.S. Congrats on the engagement."

After the email was read, Sherlock's face turned very white. "That's...impossible." He said. "Moriarty is dead. I WATCHED him die."

"Maybe Moriarty isn't who we think he is," John replied. "Maybe the real Moriarty is just forcing people to be him."

"I've thought about that, and it's just not possible. When you look at him, you don't see a regular person who has this mask of evil. That is the real Moriarty. He's evil, right down to his soul."

At this, John turned to look at Sherlock. His face was a mask of rage. "Sherlock, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Sherlock said tersely. He was not fine. "I have until 5:00 to figure out what to do. Until then, please don't bother me." He collapsed into his chair and steepled his hands under his nose.

John sighed, almost inaudibly. Looks like the human Sherlock disappeared as soon as there was work to be done.

"Oh and John," Sherlock began. He got up and pulled John's lips to his, cascading them both in a warm, euphoric feeling. He kissed John passionately but for only a few seconds, and then sat back in his chair and steepled his hands back under his nose. "I love you." Sherlock said, before finally disappearing in his mind palace.

{Time Lapse}

At around 4:30, Sherlock suddenly shot up, making John drop his teacup with a bang!. "Come, John, we have an appointment to attend to." Sherlock grabbed his coat.

"Hold on a second," John said, kneeling down. "I've got to clean this up. So, what's your plan?"

"I haven't got one." Sherlock said.

"Yes you do, you just won't tell me."

"Maybe."

"But wha--" Sherlock silenced John with another passionate kiss. His tongue briefly entered John's mouth and stroked his own, all the while tracing John's jawline. He broke off after a while, and held open the door for John so they could leave.

"You know, that won't work every time."

At this, Sherlock smiled. "Wanna bet?"

{Another Time Lapse Sorry}

As the cab pulled up to 239 Myers St., both Sherlock and John were visibly showing signs of uneasiness...and fear. Who knows what this madman has planned this time?

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and squeezed it, half to comfort John, but also half to comfort himself. "You, uhh, got your gun?" He asked John.

"Yeah. Are you gonna need it?"

"I might."

John handed Sherlock his gun without further question. Then they both got out of the cab, paid the driver, and headed towards a narrow alleyway between two large, crumbling brick buildings. The buildings looked old and abandoned, the roof shingles torn and flapping in the breeze. One looked like it had been severely damaged by fire.

On the roof of the damaged building, a figure appeared in a crisp suit. His dark hair and brown eyes gave him away at once.

Moriarty.

"Hello!" Moriarty waved at Sherlock and John from four stories up. He looked directly at Sherlock and said, "You're not the only one who can die and come back. Oh, look, your little fiancé, John. He must've cried so much while you were gone. In fact, he did. For hours a day." Moriarty smiled maliciously.

John dropped his head down, the memory of Sherlock's death still painful to him.

"Leave him alone," Sherlock yelled up. "What do you want from me?"

"Apparently you can't kill yourself properly, can you? I'm just going to end you myself. I've got so much work to do, and I don't need you and your little boyfriend interfering."

"Fine. But before you kill us, how did you do it? I watched you bleed out. I watched you die." Sherlock yelled from the alleyway.

"And little Johnny Boy watched YOU die, Sherlock. We all have our secrets. I'm done talking to you now. You've gotten awfully boring since I've been gone, Sherlock." Turning his head to one side, he said "finish them," to a person John and Sherlock could not see. A man appeared on the roof after Moriarty spoke, armed with the largest gun either of the men had ever seen.

Before either of them could react, the man shot John in the chest.