+3: Love Bites (So Do I) -Hale storm  [REQUEST]

Request from @Skelliescar

-

"For God's sake, Sherlock, stop moping!" A familiar accent rings in Sherlock's ears as none other than James Moriarty walks into Basket Street as if he had been living here his whole life.

For just a moment, Sherlock freezes up at having the man that swore to kill him within a metres radius. But then the man's words register and Sherlock can only frown.

"Moping? I'm not moping!" He sits up straighter as Jim takes a seat in what used to be John's chair.

The Irishman sighs. "Oh, come on. What you are doing is the definition of moping and sulking. Hey, at least you're not pining anymore, right?"

"I..." How the hell... "I don't know what you mean"

Jim just gives the detective a 'really?' look. They both know very well what he's talking about. Sherlock had been a moping mess since he'd returned to find John had moved out. He was even more sulky now that John had got married.

"Do you really want me to say it out loud? I mean, Jesus, you nearly said you loved him, to his face!" Jim rolls his eyes.

Sherlock frowns, looking down as the memory comes back to him. He had almost told John that he loved him but then he realised that he's not sure if he actually loves John. He fancies him, for sure. But love? Sherlock's not so sure.

"Why are you here, James?" Sherlock asks, voice bitter.

"Please, call me Jim"

Sherlock snarls. "Answer the question, James"

"I'm here to help you. I can't have you being all moping now, can I?" He smiles before raising his hands. "Have you even noticed? Baby, I'm back. Daddy's come home!"

Sherlock presses the tips of his fingers together, watching the man across from him. He doesn't return the smile.

"Oh? Am I supposed to jump for joy that you didn't die like you were supposed to?"

To be fair, Sherlock had broken out into a large grin when he'd heard the news. He hadn't smiled that much in a very long time.

Jim chuckles, leaning forward. "You know you're glad to see me. Don't be mean, honey. So.. Did you miss me?"

Sherlock sniffs before rather reluctantly admitting "Somewhat"

Jim leans back, happy now. "Cute"

Sherlock frowns. "Excuse me? Cute?"

"Yeah. Cute"

Silence falls as they watch one another, trying to figure out the other's next movement.

"You said.." Sherlock starts, pausing for a second. "You said you're here to help me. Help me do what, exactly?"

Jim smiles again, wicked and cunning, tilting his head to look at Sherlock for a few more moments before he replies.

"To help you.. oh, how do I phrase it?.. move on? Get over him? Have some fun? Forget him?"

It takes a while for Sherlock process that. James Moriarty, the consultant criminal, wanted to help him forget about John? John who he wasn't even sure if he loved or fancied or was simply attracted to...

Well..

What does one say to that?

"How?" Sherlock settles for, eventually.

"Oh, baby, I have a thousand ways to help you forget" He winks at the end of it, making one of the ways he was suggesting extremely clear.

"I don't see how doing.. that.. with you would help? John is my friend, this schoolboy crush will fade"

Jim leans forward again, grinning. "Or, instead of it fading, I could push it off a cliff."

And for some reason Sherlock finds himself nodding. "Fine. Help me forget"

*

Sherlock doesn't let Jim take him to bed. That was one way he didn't plan on forgetting about this silly crush he had on his friend. He does, however, let Jim kiss him and hold his hand and treat him like they were in a relationship.

It was.. nice. When he tried, Jim could come across as undeniably sweet and caring. It made a warm feeling rise from Sherlock's stomach and bubble in his chest.

It was odd. Sherlock had never felt like that before and wasn't sure if he should ask Jim what it was.

By the time they reach the two month mark of their arrangement, Sherlock was well and truly over John. That is, if there was anything to get over in the first place. Although he didn't say a word to Jim. He was far too fond of their arrangement and that warm feeling to dare say anything that means it would stop.

He had a feeling that Jim knew too. The way he look at him when John was mentioned, the pride that shone in his beautiful brown eyes, told Sherlock that he knew John was no longer an object of Sherlock's desires.

He never said anything about it and part of Sherlock hoped he had that warm feeling too. He couldn't imagine going back to being Sherlock and Jim. They were Sherlock and Jim now. A team. Before they were just two halves of a puzzle that didn't dare connect.

They'd connected now. Sherlock didn't want it to revert back.

Three months into their arrangement, Sherlock very nearly went to bed with Jim but the other stopped him. He said that he didn't want Sherlock to do that while he liked John and Sherlock knew that was the moment he should have told Jim that he didn't like John anymore but he chickened out.

He just couldn't stop the negative thoughts.

What if Jim just slept with him and then it went back to how it was before?

Sherlock wouldn't have that. He needed the warm feeling that Jim gave him from a simple smile. The feeling of being complete.

It was all so messed up.

On the brighter side, Mary had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, who they didn't name after Sherlock, and Sherlock was to be a Godfather to her. He'd been seeing a bit more of John now, Mary too. It was nice. Sherlock didn't hate Mary for taking John away anymore. Right now, Sherlock couldn't even imagine not living with Jim.

*

"You don't love John..."  Jim says. His voice is quiet, as if speaking louder would physically cause him pain (maybe even emotional pain too).

He's sat across the table from Sherlock. They're both eating breakfast that Jim made not too long ago.

Sherlock swallows, this isn't what he planned for the four month anniversary of their arrangement.

"No, I don't." Sherlock replies, biting his lip and trying to catch Jim's eyes.

He's purposely not looking up. "You don't fancy him, either.."

Sherlock says nothing. He doesn't want to. He wants things to stay like this. He wants Jim to stay by his side.

Jim looks up when he gets no answer. He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

"No. I don't" Sherlock answers eventually, his eyes on Jim's.

The other man nods before he looks down again, at the food in front of him.

"So.. Er.."

"So?" Sherlock asks.

"I've helped you... We can go back to how it was before" He says, visibly swallowing.

"Yeah.. We can" but we don't have to.

Jim nods, scooping up a spoonful of cheerios. "I'll be gone by tomorrow, then." He sounds.. happy, Sherlock thinks. "Well, until we start up the game again. You can focus now, can't you?"

No. I need you. "Yeah..."

As promised, Jim leaves the next day.

Sherlock watches him go, the warm feeling turning cold and biting at him from the inside out. The feeling is chewing him up, messing with his insides and making him want to empty his stomach on the carpet.

It hurts his chest. It knocks him down. Most of all it bites.

It's then Sherlock has a name for the warm feeling. Love.

He knew he should go after Jim, and something told him that Jim wanted him to go after him, but he just didn't. He doesn't even know why he didn't. He just... didn't.

Jim's feeling that bite too, when he gets home to his cold and lifeless flat. It didn't seem right to be without Sherlock. He'd become so used to being close to him, dangerously used to it. It was going to be hard to revert back into how they used to be.

He crawls into, feeling blue. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to just sleep this off.