Falling...

Chapter 7 - A Goodbye Kiss

Sherlock awoke the next morning feeling a slight tinge of dread.
John had appeared very upset about the situation with Ji- Moriarty. He hadn't engaged much with Sherlock after their talk with Mycroft. The most he'd say were small comments, which often sounded quite passive-aggressive. To be completely honest, Sherlock didn't blame him. Even he didn't know what he was doing, or where it was going...
Though it seemed the part that had upset John the most was that Sherlock hadn't told him. Which, again, didn't merit blame - since he was his best friend, and yet Sherlock had failed to inform him of something so important. 

Sherlock rubbed his eyes, allowing the rest of his body to wake up. He then noticed the gentle breath against his neck, the weight on top of his stomach, and something against his thigh.
He slightly turned to see Moriarty, lying with his face close to Sherlock's neck, his arm around Sherlock's body, and his knee against Sherlock's thigh.
He must've come back very late, since Sherlock had gone to bed without him there at quite a late hour. He was also still in his day-clothes, having appeared to have chucked his jacket on the chair, kicked off his shoes at the side of the bed, and just gotten into bed beside Sherlock. Where Moriarty had actually gone was still a mystery...

Sherlock glanced at the arm John had shot at. The shirt hadn't been changed, so was blood-stained. Through the small hole the bullet had made, Sherlock could see that he'd had it bandaged - or bandaged it himself.
Sherlock guessed that after storming out, Moriarty had realised how minor the wound was, and had just gone to a pharmacist. After all, going to an actual doctor wouldn't be a very good idea for an individual such as him - especially with a gun wound. Still, that didn't explain why he was gone so late...
Not that Moriarty's arm, or where he'd gone the previous night, was the biggest concern at the time.

The biggest concern was still John, and getting him to realise that Sherlock knew what he was doing - to an extent.
What was he doing?
Well, he was having sexual relations with a master criminal. Initially to avoid his only friends being murdered, secondly because... Well, the first time was quite enjoyable. Said criminal was also going to be staying with him, since he'd been kicked out by the journalist he'd used to fool the nation that Sherlock was a fraud. That, and both parties seemed to rather fancy the new development in their relationship.

Jim, Moriarty, rather, stirred in his sleep, moving slightly closer to Sherlock's body. It made Sherlock realise that he'd been subconsciously running his hand through Moriarty's dark hair.
Sherlock decided that he preferred Moriarty when he was awake. When he was asleep, he was quiet and boring. He looked innocent and sweet, which was disappointing, since a whole part of his charm was his mania and craziness - at least it was to Sherlock. Looking less like a psychopath was actually seemed to be a disadvantage to Moriarty, which sounded a little odd.

"I know I'm ridiculously handsome, and incredibly sexy, but would you mind stopping with the 'watching me sleep' thing? It's super creepy..." Moriarty mumbled, not opening his eyes, but putting on a small pout.
Sherlock couldn't help but break into a smile. Nevertheless, he averted his gaze elsewhere, as Moriarty had asked. About half a minute past where nothing else was said.

"I change my mind, give me attention," Moriarty ordered, moving his hand from Sherlock's stomach to move his head to face him. His eyes met Moriarty's dark, dark brown ones.

"Happily," Sherlock replied with a smirk. To this, Moriarty replied by stretching up and kissing Sherlock. Every time they kissed, it was different, but still felt so very dangerous. Every time, it was fantastic, and gave Sherlock the feeling that the rest of the world didn't matter. Every time, he loved every second.

A knocking on the door broke their moment.
"Sherlock!" John called, knocking again. Moriarty glared at the door in annoyance, keeping his position. "Greg's here with a case. Apparently, you weren't answering your phone," He added. He still sounded a little annoyed at Sherlock, but lesser than he did the evening before. Moriarty moved off of Sherlock, allowing him to sit up.