The door was furiously banged on, almost to the point of its hinges breaking off. Whoever was desperate to get in was certainly a strong and determined person from just that forceful power. The banging continued until it was simply too much for the hinges to handle, causing them break and the door to fall down. John Watson peered into the room with a monstrous look on his face.
"Where is he?" John growled.
"Lying down on the bed, give him some peace and quiet while he's out cold." Moriarty's flirty tone was incredibly evident as always.
"What did you do to him?!"
"Nothing! Defensive aren't we? Still Sherlock's little, attached pet I see...ah well, not like you could serve him much of another purpose."
"Shut it or else I will do anything I can to push through you. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."
"Sassy today...mmm, I don't like your attitude. Perhaps I can get dear Irene up here to punish you for being so rude..."
"Mr. Moriarty!" He suddenly shouted, "Move or so help me, God, I will make you move out of the way!"
Moriarty shrugged, completely unfazed by the yelling, and leaned himself away from the doorway. This gave John enough space to get into the next room to find his friend. Sherlock was still seemingly unconscious, lying on top of the bed sheets and blanket whilst still being in his suit. John shook his shoulder to get him back up and called his name loudly in hopes to get him awake.
"Quit shouting, John!" The criminal warned while taking steps towards the doctor.
"Sorry, just trying to bring my best friend back into consciousness! Not like it matters to you!"
"No, it really doesn't. Although it would be disappointing for him not to come back within ten minutes."
"Sherlock! Get up you twat!" John practically shrieked.
As this went against what Jim had warned John about, he punched him in the face, causing the doctor to almost fall over and blood to spill from his nose. The detective's eyes snapped open as his body fell off of the bed and hit the carpeted floor. A groan came out of Sherlock's throat while John tried to pick himself back up. The criminal frowned with glaring eyes towards the two men on the ground.
"I'm not a twat, John. If I recall correctly, you said I was the best man you knew." Sherlock sassed, remaining seated on the ground.
"Not the time." John muttered.
"Boys, no couple-fights in front of me. It's disgusting and wastes too much time." Moriarty rolled his eyes.
"How many times do I have to repeat this..." John said with exasperation, "I am not gay for Sherlock Holmes! Or anyone for that matter. I have a wife and a child-"
"Moving on...the both of you-"
"Who punched you?" Sherlock asked.
"You're a deductionist, for God's sake. Figure it out my best man."
Sherlock stared confusedly at his friend, "Well excuse me for being knocked out so I could be dragged up here and not know what went on during the time I was unconscious."
"You're perfectly capable of solving crimes you weren't present at, yet figuring out who punched me is a problem."
"Fine. You want me to tell you who punched your face? James Moriarty. I didn't want to have to say anything about it once I figured it out."
"And why not? You send bad people to their deaths all the time."
"Who said anything about killing me? Sherlock wouldn't be anyone without me and we all know it's the truth. Who would make him a superhero for clueless police officers and John Watson?" Moriarty piped up.
Sherlock stayed silent, knowing that he was right, while John furrowed his brows at the last part of his statement. Why the hell would Sherlock Holmes of all people be someone saving my life? He thought to himself. Jim was smiling when he sat down on the messy bed and looked down at the two men seated on the floor with odd expressions.
"Oh come on. Don't be blind, John. I haven't even scratched your eyes out." Moriarty mused, "You were depressed and bored and had absolutely no point in your life until this sociopath became your platonic bestie forever!"
"Platonic?" John asked.
"Of course. It makes the game not as fun when your competitors weakness is soooooo dreadfully obvious."
"John Watson is not my weakness." Sherlock muttered.
"Oh yeah?" Moriarty smiled playfully, "I can hit him again...and guarantee that the great Sherlock Holmes will be a big meanie and try to hurt me."
"When has he ever done that?" John questioned.
"Really blind, aren't you? He pretended to jump off a building for you, he covered for you when you killed a taxi driver, and oh right...killed someone for flicking your face."
"Charles Augustus Magnussen had to be killed. He was using his information for power and getting what he wanted." Sherlock argued.
"Not to mention hurting your favourite person in the whole world." The criminal huffed, "I wanted to be your favourite! But you started to fancy a doctor over me and that hurt my feelings."
Jim's face was in a pout once he finished speaking. For an evil and psychopathic mastermind, he used loads of child-like vocabulary with flirty undertones to his voice. Sherlock had been battling his inner self over whether or not to get up off the floor to bash in Moriarty's head for saying and doing some things. John was baffled at why the criminal was insinuating such things and why his friend wasn't saying anything against it.
"You were certainly my favourite criminals to deal with. Much more interesting." The detective complimented.
"Aww you said something nice about me. I'm blushing at your kind words."
"I'm in a generous mood."
"And I just want to present your response to your pressure point being mangled with! Johnny boy, mind getting up? For the sake of Sherlock?"
The doctor exhaled sharply at yet another mention of someone believing that he and Sherlock were more than "friends".
"What do you expect him to do? He's simply my friend for everyone else who doesn't seem to believe so." John snapped.
"Stop John, he's not completely wrong." Sherlock warned.
"No, no. I need this for myself. To have a solid proof that my best friend is not my fucking boyfriend!" John shouted.
"Woah there! Watch the language Dr. Watson!" Moriarty gasped as the doctor stood up from the ground and gave him an expression that read "Punch me in the face so I can prove that I'm right about this."
Jim looked down at his rival, a dark grin over his features as move to show off that he would win the argument. He wasn't afraid of the detective fighting back, nor getting hurt for that matter. A grimacing, tight expression had taken over Sherlock's face while John remained standing patiently and blankly. A sudden threatening, terribly emotionless face had appeared over Moriarty's bright, yet dead, smile as he made a fist and pulled his arm back to result in a harder hit.
"Oh I'm going to enjoy this." Jim chuckled.
