Nicotine (Sheriarty)

6

Sherlock

Sherlock walked through the door and was greeted by the same gust of wind that Jim had. He noticed the black haired psychopath was sat against the building that he had just emerged from. He walked over and sat next to him.

"Bit cold, isn't it?" Sherlock said whilst sliding down the wall to meet man on the floor.

"Mmm..." Jim said avoiding eye contact.

"Moriarty -" Sherlock began before being interrupted.

"Jim."

"Jim." He said, correcting himself, "what are you doing to me?"

"What do you mean?" Jim replied turning to look him in the eyes.

"I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't do anything without thinking about what happened."

"I got to you then." The psychopath replied whilst biting his lip.

"No." Sherlock argued, clearly lying.

Moriarty laughed to himself. Not his usual 'I'm going to kill you' laugh. No. This laugh was different. Human, even. "Then why did you come?"

"Why did you invite me?"

"I was curious to see if you've changed your mind yet."

"Changed my mind about what?"

"Magnessun being worse than me."

"Depends..."

"On what?"

"Whether you brought yourself back from the grave to prove a point or just because you were bored."

Jim laughed and said, "Oh Sherly. I'm afraid you've got it wrong. All wrong. I came back for you."

"Prove it." Sherlock replied without any delay.

"Okay." Jim whispered whilst leaning in.

This was all too familiar. Sherlock knew what was going to happen next but wasn't sure whether to stop it or not. He wanted Jim to kiss him again. He needed him to. He just didn't know what would happen to him afterwards.

Once Jim had eventually got close enough to kiss him, Sherlock realised that he didn't care about the consequences. Jim was like a drug to him. He was addicted. He needed more.