Multi-fandom One-shots

Sheriarty

The roof top:

Non-romantic obsession, mild smut, abuse - 800 words

Sherlock heard only silence as he climbed his way to the rooftop, considering it was Moriarty he came to see, he expected a little more flare. He felt a sudden gust of wind hit him as he appeared in the glare of the midday sun, and there he sat, Jim Moriarty, as calm and collected as ever, a smirk on his lips and his legs hanging dangerously over the edge of the roof, hair rippling in the slight breeze. "I've been waiting, Sherlock," he said in a sing-song voice, keeping his eyes focused on the ground many floors below him. "What do you want" Sherlock called, his voice getting partially lost in the wind, he noticed a slight elevation in his breathing, it couldn't be from the height, Moriarty clearly didn't fear death. Therefore Sherlock was surprised when a very calm faced man turned to him, slowly standing up and making his way over, "tut tut Sherlock, very slow today aren't we? I thought you would've picked up on it by now, after all, I am your... biggest fan," he stared up at the taller man stood in front of him, his face hard as stone. Sherlock looked through all of his encounters with Moriarty, what could he be missing? Every time was the same, the smirking, the mood changes, the almost impossible to read face of an insane villain, even the suit, it was neatly evened out with precaution, immaculately presented every time. Moriarty laughed, turning away from him and pacing along the roof, "Of course you don't get it, Sherlock, you're too naive, to SLOW!" He spoke quickly, his voice rising and his... pupils dilating? Every time, every time he had the neatly laid out suit, the smirk to the right, his hard to read face and the dilated pupils. Sherlock stood, looking at him, listening to him, and he realized. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth, and the truth must be Moriarty wanted Sherlock. And Sherlock began to smile, he began to chuckle and almost laugh, how absurd a situation, how very improbable but almost favorable to the consulting detective. Moriarty was almost his answer to the escaped dominatrix, clearly, he had no real love or concern for Sherlock but he had the dominant side, that grin, that accent, and his superior intellect. Something about him just... worked. "Oh you think it's funny, do you? You want to laugh. Does Sherlock want his little giggle" He pushed Sherlock up against the wall, the cold wind whipping his face, "Well you've got to admit it's much sexier this way" he whispered into Sherlock's ear, sending shivers down his spine. He crashed his lips into those of the taller man, Sherlock grabbed his face, holding him closely before pulling himself away, "why, why put me through all of this?" He asked, pained by his lack of understanding, "You IDIOT! because I wanted to control you, I am your only choice, your only way to turn and now you can't get enough of me" he smirked, oh my god that smirk. The sane part of Sherlock told him to go, to leave this terrorist lover to his own misgivings and leave, but the sane part of Sherlock was very small. He didn't need love, he always knew that alone was his protection, however even he had to admit that in one way or another he was addicted to Moriarty, and he longed for nothing more. He marched forwards, ready to rejoin his lips to those of the master villain in front of him, but he wasn't expecting the slap that sent him flying towards the ground. He was confused, so confused, he should've known that was coming, it was obvious what Moriarty wanted but he was letting himself get in the way, why? He looked up to see Moriarty, leveling out his suit jacket sleeves, he clearly never liked getting his hands dirty. "You think you can just kiss me, you're even more clueless than I thought, you're almost too ordinary. No one ever gets to me."

"I did" Sherlock muttered, looking away from Moriarty's gaze, "I'll admit, you've got the closest." "Thank You," Sherlock said, this was it, this was Moriarty's new game for him. "I didn't mean it as a compliment" Moriarty smirked, waiting for the man, completely enthralled by him, to finish their old conversation, "yes you did."

Moriarty shrugged, his eyes full of lust, "yeeeaaahhh you're right, I did." and with that he shoved Sherlock against the wall, smirking at the little grunt of pain he made and slamming himself onto his lips, feeling the kiss back from him. It wasn't loving, nowhere near, but sometimes crazy works, maybe a villain with benefits would stop them from getting 'bored'.