MorMor One Shots

Boredom

It was a slow process, a cold, heartless man such as James Moriarty learning to love. He had never expected himself to, had vowed that he would not, and he never even dreamt that somebody would love him in return.

Love was for the heroes, the protagonists of the fairytales, and while the good were written with happy endings, the bad were left to wallow. Were killed or miserable or pushed aside. And that's how Jim had expected it to be, now that he had chosen the path of evil, and he believed he was destined for misery for as long as his story would go on. And he had believed the fairytales.

However, when Sebastian came along, when he had noticed the man so quickly climbing his ranks and taken an interest in the talented Sniper, something changed.

It took time of course, for change is always gradual, always took it's time, but as Sebastian succeeded in more missions, proved his loyalty to Moriarty and became his most trusted, even so much as to be sharing accommodation with the man, he learned that his story was not fixed, things could change.

Sebastian had been patient. Since the first six months he had shared a flat with Jim, he had been patient. And then, after a while, after the more commanding orders and sarcastic comments filtered away into more soft, lilting and tolerating tones he could finally witness love leaking into his Bosses bleeding heart.

He was never sure of himself in that aspect, however, for James Moriarty was an exquisite actor, and Sebastian had fallen for those cruel little acts of his countless times before since he had moved into that flat in Conduit Street with his Boss.

It was when they had been a constant in each other's lives for about a year when Jim had said it. It had been a surprise to Sebastian, but James was drunk and hadn't known what he was saying, so the Sniper quietly put Jim to bed and wished him a good night.

After that night came the nicknames, the obvious means of affection that the criminal had taken to addressing Sebastian with, hollering him with names such as 'Tiger' and 'Sebby'. He had found it strange at first, the obvious affection, but as days leaked into weeks and weeks leaked into months, he had found that he had gotten used to it, and in fact had christened James with some nicknames of his own.

Then came the day when Jim picked up the courage to truly say it, when Sebastian had gone out on a job and not returned for a few more days than expected. Jim had been pacing for days on end, abandoning his work as his worry consumed him and he fretted about the apartment. The moment the door clicked and Sebastian was setting a foot inside he had flung himself on him, and he had blurted out that he loved him, followed by their first kiss, a desperate, crushing one, and Sebastian had told him he loved him too.

He had become clingy after that, constantly telling Sebastian he loved him, demanding to know where he was going as soon as he picked up his coat, and they had started sleeping in the same bed as the day drew to a close, and Jim had become sentimental, whispering soft things into Sebastians ear as they curled up against each other. And it was sweet, while it lasted, a short and sweet romance between the criminal and the sniper.

But psychopaths tend to get bored.

The days became longer, and the criminal stopped coming to bed of a night, staying in his office to tend to his work. The lilting affections and soft orders became more demanding, harsher as weeks went by, and he more often called Sebastian by his full name, or just 'Moran', one that Sebastian had learned was used to address him in purely business manner. And the meaning of the Sniper in his life faded, boredom took its toll and work piled up, giving the criminal no time for distractions, or no time for Sebastian, and the man had fell out of love.

Sebastian watched as the love drained from his eyes once again, the biting of his words returning to how they were a few years ago, the ignorance of the other man in the house returning to its original state, and he became the cold, hard hearted man Sebastian was first introduced to. And it broke his heart.

He had stayed with him for a good while longer, of course, for a time after Sebastians heart had dropped with the confirmation he was no longer loved as he was before, but his feelings for the criminal bound him there, refused to let him budge, and it was the most cruel thing the man had ever done.

He had done lots of cruel things, James Moriarty, murdered little boys, threatened families, tortured men until they begged for release, however, when James Moriarty had swept the sniper off his feet, led him in a whirlwind, it was what Sebastian had considered the most cruel thing he had ever done, because when the hurricane had ceased, and the winds quietened down, he had caused destruction in his wake, and left Sebastian broken, begging for James to sweep him up again.

He had never even acknowledged his lost love himself, the criminal working at the desk, until Sebastian had confronted him.

He had been drinking, at the local bar til eleven, and came home demanding answers, demanding to know if Jim even loved him anymore.

And Jim had said no, he had lost interest in the man now that he had figured him out, and Sebastian had recoiled like he had been physically hit. He went to bed alone again, that night, and cried himself into the long awaited relief of sleep. He had known, for so long Jims lost feelings, but to hear it from the man himself, in those harsh, biting words, it had made the knowledge more real, and he felt his own heart crack once again.

Three weeks later and they were no longer together, Sebastian contemplating moving out, for he couldn't stand to see the one he loved so close, yet so far, and he barely saw him around the house any more.

He had buried himself in his work, constantly in his study, only coming out for much needed fuel, and as Sebastian registered that rare padding of feet across the hall as he was seated on the sofa, he craned his neck to look at Jim.

He couldn't help the longing in his gaze, and Jim only gave him a glance before he walked out with an apple or a yoghurt, to retreat back to his study. He never even called for Sebastian anymore. And now he was Moriarty again. No longer 'Jim' or 'James' or 'Kitten'. Just the impersonal, cold Moriarty.

And now James himself knew just how true those fairytales were, the evil never had a happy ending, they were left miserable in the worst way, and Jim longed for himself to love again. His incapable heart wouldn't allow it, and neither would the fairytales.

He had just...fallen out of love.