Ain't no rest for the wicked(Till we close our eyes for good)
Summary:When Sherlock is kidnapped by his enemy,his worst one,John doesn't know what to do. Especially when he sees what Moriarty is doing to his best friend, how he's turned him into something he no longer recognizes as himself.
A/N: I'll post 5 chapters at a time, till the last one, since there's 11 chapters to this.
John's P.O.V
Sherlock was gone. At first, John just thought he was out looking for a new case or something to relieve his boredom, but then, he was gone. Really gone. Sherlock hadn't been home in two days. And with no kind of communication or warning, it was worrisome.
"Mycroft, do you know where Sherlock is?" desperation rang in his voice, evident even over the phone.
"I thought you were with him. He did take out the cameras I had installed in your flat."
"He's not at the flat, although it was the last place I saw him."
John's hands were starting to feel clammy. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have left Sherlock alone. Bad things happened to Sherlock when John wasn't there. The doctor had been noticing cuts and bruises, soreness in the detective's limbs when he sat down, and now it was worse. Now he could be lost or.....kidnapped. He felt himself go white.
"He may have relapsed. I'll call some local dealers."
"Mycroft what if....he was kidnapped?"
The older Holmes brother was silent for a while.
"Then it may be impossible to find him, especially if the kidnapper doesn't want him to be found. Dr. Watson, I do suggest you hope he relapsed."
Moriarty's P.O.V
"Oh Sherly, calm down. After all, it's just your drug of choice. Soon it'll all be over." the consulting criminal purred in the detective's ear.
He tapped the needle a couple times, making sure there weren't air bubbles in it. He didn't want to kill Sherlock yet. Oh no, he wanted to break him down to his core, he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to have fun and make The Pet suffer for playing with his Sherlock. For getting rid of his fun side.
Jim Moriarty had known the fun Sherlock. He had spent months with him during a drug binge that the Sherlock now didn't remember. Oh, how fun that dirty little room had been, with an overdosed man and a grubby mattress.
"Calm down, Honey, or this'll kill you."
Sherlock was tied to a chair currently, waking up from the sedation. Jim had put a little something in his tea, Sherlock never noticed because John had given it to him. John hadn't taken notice because he thought Sherlock was finally crashing, and likely because he hadn't slept in several days. So, he had helped Sherlock to his bed and went off to work, leaving the consulting criminal to take what was his: Sherlock Holmes.
He steadied the needle against one of the only veins in the detectives left arm that wasn't blown out and pressed the plunger in. The dose was a little high for someone who hadn't had it in a while, but Jim wanted Sherlock to be affected right away, because oh boy was the detective going to hate what came next.
And the drugs, well they heightened the senses.
Jim watched as the detective sucked in a gulp of air, his eyes going wide. He knew what was happening now, how at first it felt like fire, travelling throughout your bloodstream, burning every nerve alive. Setting his flesh on fire and his mind on hyper-drive.
"Right then. If your a good boy, I won't tie you to the bed," Jim said, untying him from the chair.
He let out a laugh.
"Oh, what am I saying? I'm still going to. Maybe a collar to fit that pretty little neck of yours too. You can be my pet."
Sherlock gave him a glare.
"You will not put a collar on me, I-"
"You're not going to tell me what I will and will not be doing or I will kill John Watson."
Sherlock's P.O.V
Oh how his veins were on fire! And cocaine always made his brain speed up, and now every little possibility, every little fact or detail, was racing through his head. He was beginning to remember how hard it was to stay sane on this drug.
He could also tell that he was angry. Angry his enemy got a leg up on him and kidnapped him. Angry he was forced to relapse. Angry that he couldn't fight back. Angry that he would dare threaten John's life.
"How dare you!" he exclaimed, using his one free hand that Moriarty had untied to punch him. Of course, even with the significant force that was put behind the blow, the man never even flinched.
"Sherly, if you hit me again, I'm not joking, I will kill him, but before I kill him, I'll show him all the things he put you through by giving you that tea. Now, if you listen to me, I will not kill him. I won't hurt him. Much."
Sherlock sighed. He was stuck at an impasse. Save his best friend, his only friend, or give into the enemy and the drug. He knew which one was morally right, and he knew which one was absolutely wrong. What he could and couldn't do.
He let Moriarty lead him upstairs (wherever in the bloody hell they were, it was so damn dark that he couldn't even tell) and into what looked like a bedroom. His heart skipped a few beats in fear. He knew what was next.
The all black walls, black sheets, black carpets.....chilled him to the bone. This was a room you left someone in for a long time, someone you had made sure wouldn't escape. This was a room you chose when you were going to....no, he couldn't think it. It was too horrible. Sex scared him enough already, he knew practically nothing about it, didn't need to.
John, he thought miserably and barely noticed the whimper that came out of him. Jim grinned a wide smile, like a kid on his birthday.
"Stop thinking about it Sherlock." Jim growled, pressing his lips against the detectives lips forcefully. The detective struggled against the slightly shorter man, pressing at his chest, not opening his mouth when the Irish man so desperately wanted him to.
Jim pushed Sherlock onto the bed, producing a pair of handcuffs from what seemed like nowhere, and cuffing his wrists together. He tore the shirt off the detective (Sherlock's favorite shirt, the tight purple one that sexually frustrated everybody.) and started to unbutton his pants.
"I almost forgot you think you're a virgin. Don't worry I won't hurt you... at least not too bad, Sherly."
Ch.2
John's P.O.V
A few days later, John got sent a video from a unrecognized email address. One composed of seemingly random numbers and letters.
Somehow he knew it was who kidnapped Sherlock. He was terrified to open it. But he had to be strong. It could be a ransom video, or it could give him some clue to where the detective was.
He opened it to see a video file. The doctor took a deep breath, gulped and clicked play.
Instantly, his gut clenched. Jim Moriarty was standing next to a unconscious Sherlock, his head lulled to the side, his hair stringy, and clearly drugged. The detective had handcuffs placed at his ankles and wrists. There was no way he was getting out of that, even with his impressive skill set. Not with the state he was in.
"Hello John. Your poor little master is still sleeping soundly from that tea you gave him. I bet you're wondering, how'd I do it? Simple John, you should never, ever turn your back." The consulting criminal chuckled to himself.
"Anyways, onto the point. I want to see you and the detective suffer. You ruined a lot of great things for me by meddling with my plans. And yes John, I can see you suffer." John's stomach churned.He would ask how but it was like asking how Mycroft knew. He didn't want to know.
"So I may or may not ask for a ransom eventually. For now, it's fun playing with you both .Like for instance, i'm about to shoot him up with cocaine and take him upstairs to the bedroom and fuck him hard. And even if he's sleeping now, he'll wake up soon after we start. And he hasn't even had sex before." The consultant criminal paused. "Well, sex he remembers anyway .Shh, don't tell him." Jim giggled. "During his drug addled months, he was such a delight. And I had him on the verge of relapsing, even though he didn't bother to remember me when he got all dull and sober, much less our time together."
Moriarty pouted for a second before continuing in his dialogue.
"Just making his old dealers come by was almost enough to push him over the edge but then you came along and ruined everything." The criminals nose crinkled in distaste. "But I'm going to skip ahead to the good part of this, shall I?" The view darkened and a few seconds later,a naked Sherlock and Jim were shown.
"I would gag you if I didn't want John to hear you scream. You'd look so pretty with some thing in your mouth." Jim said to the now awake Sherlock.
This was the first time the doctor had ever seen his friend look scared, and he hated it.
He saw Moriarty's predatory gaze as he climbed on top of the detective,and saw Sherlock bite his lip, hard enough to make his lip bleed as the criminal penetrated him, barely bothering with any sort of preparation.
It was killing John to watch and yet, he couldn't look away.It was horrible.Tears ran down Sherlock's cheeks but to his enemy's frustration,he had not made a noise. So of course, Jim grabbed Sherlock's hair and pulled, making his upper body lift. With a sadistic grin, Moriarty started to bite fiercely at the other mans shoulders, pounding harder and harder into him.
When the detective let out the scream of pure agony is when John had to go throw up in the toilet. His hands were shaking as he walked back to his laptop. How...how had such a horrible thing happened? More importantly, how had he been stupid enough to drug Sherlock, and then leave for work to let him get kidnapped by the man who hated him with a passion and yet wanted him?
When he found the courage to look back at the video, they were done.A shaking Sherlock was curled up the best he could be ,a collar wrapped around his neck that said "pet".
John felt queasy again, but didn't know if anything else could come out of his stomach .His organs, maybe. And at that point, he wouldn't have mourned the loss.
The video faded to black and then, a sleeping Sherlock was shown.
"Isn't he beautiful?"Jim asked with a twisted smirk."Just so innocent, even when he's been touched, been...corrupted." The criminals eyes flashed dangerously.
"I'm not going to let you have him back, unless you pay the price." he hissed and then, with a click, the video was over.
Concerns flooded John. But foremost was What is the price? He bit his lip.
I'll get Mycroft and Lestrade, he thought. They're not as good as Sherlock but- and then it hit him.
It would take Sherlock to rescue Sherlock right now. John was pretty sure they didn't have another Sherlock around, and unless Baskerville had done some weird experiment, that was impossible.
I'll still get Mycroft and Lestrade, the doctor thought to himself. He'd do anything to get his friend back.
Sherlock's P.O.V
He didn't know how long he'd been here. Jim kept giving him cocaine and sedatives, and the room-of-black gave away no passing of time.
Cocaine when he wanted to torture him, to make him feel everything in the worst kind of way .Sedatives after the cocaine wore off to plan what he was going to do next.
"Case, case, case, I need a case, something to do! Please, please, please I just-I NEED something to do."
Sherlock ran his fingers through his curls in frustration as he paced.Right now, Jim was torturing him in one of the worst ways possible: letting him be bored on cocaine. The need to have something to challenge his mind, to make him think was only heightened by the infernal drug.
"What did I say earlier, honey? I'll only give you a challenge if you give me what I asked you to do earlier." Moriarty purred, a malicious grin sliding it's way onto his lips.
It was hard for Sherlock to bite back his pride, his dignity. But he was bored, so bloody bored.
Sherlock stepped towards the consulting criminal until there was only inches between them and let out a bitter sigh.
"Please give me a case, daddy.Just give me something to do, master." he turned sad eyes and a dramatic pout for extra effect, because he knew Moriarty would only reward him if he did a good job.
"Alright, pet."Jim breathed in his ear, the tone of his voice chilling the detective to the bone.
But God, was he bored.
Ch.3 Short change hero
Sherlock's P.O.V
Moriarty had given him a sort of game.It was hide and seek.If Sherlock won two out of three rounds, he would get a case, a box of nicotine patches and tea. The thought of it made the detective shiver in delight. But if he lost... he'd rather not lose.
If he lost, Moriarty was going to lock him them both in the basement for three days. On cocaine. The thought terrified him.
Sherlock had never been good at real hide and seek. The metaphorical kind he was amazing at. But in real life, Mycroft had always found him.
But he had no choice. He was too bored to not take the offer.
"You can hide anywhere you want to. You can't escape from me though, I'll kill John and torture you the rest of your life. If I don't find you in 30 minutes, you win the round. Go."
Sherlock remembered running mentally, mapping out a plan in his head, thinking of where the best place to hide was.
Where wouldn't Jim look? He wished John were here so he could bounce ideas off him but....
He'd been taken from John. He would just have to deal with that. Deal with it until he could fix it.
Think, Sherlock,think.Where would the best place to hide be?
"Ah, Ah, Ah, yeah staying alive! Staying alive!" started to boom out from speakers that he couldn't see, and Sherlock grimaced.
That was distracting. How, and more importantly, where was he supposed to hide?
John's P.O.V
A few days after the email, a link was sent to his phone. The caption read : Live feed of hide and seek - SH v.s JM.
John took a few deep breaths, and opened the video. It was split screen, on the left side was Sherlock and on the right side was Moriarty, prowling the hallways like a lion on the hunt.
In the bottom corner was a timer set for 30 minutes.
Another twisted game the consulting criminal was putting the detective through then.
"John, where, where should I hide? Should I go into another room? Tell me. Moriarty will be here in approximately 52 seconds."
Sherlock said frantically and John almost gasped in surprise. Surely he couldn't know that Moriarty was filming him.
"The footlocker, if it's big enough to fit you." John found himself replying.
"You'd hide in the footlocker." Sherlock stated, as if he could hear him. Or maybe, that was just how well Sherlock knew John. Sherlock climbed into the foot locker (it almost didn't fit him until Sherlock curled in on himself, which was a spectacular sight to see) and closed the lid. John could hear Moriarty's footsteps come into the room.
"Shezza, where are you?" the consultant criminal cooed, which was rather horrifying to hear.
John felt his heart beat rather painfully and knew Sherlock's was doing worse.
"Your hoping to win, it's cute. Just the comfort of a case makes you desperate, no matter the consequences. It would bring your rushing mind such relief to have something to focus on, to have something to tether you to focus. Even though there's a possibility you could loose and be forced to that dark, cold dungeon which will be way worse than the bed you've been in." Jim Moriarty's eyes scanned the room, a cold smirk appearing on his face.
"You're in here, I can tell. Can see the place you were standing with indecision as your mind raced to find a place to hide. You've always ran away from things Sherly, you never had to hide. Big brother made sure you didn't." John knew Sherlock's mind must be frantic right now, trying to think of ways to get out of the situation.
Jim's eyes settled on the footlocker and a cold, heartless grin spread over his face.
"Nononononono oh my god."John breathed out, clenching his fists in anger and fear. Jim looked to both sides of him, and then opened the chest.
John heard a long, steady stream of curses and hadn't thought Sherlock was THAT creative.
"Round one, won by Jim Moriarty." He announced to no one in particular. "Be more fun next time, would you?" Jim asked, giving Sherlock a little shove as he climbed out of the footlocker. "Go hide."
Sherlock took off running and John didn't blame him, Moriarty had to have been cheating somehow.
Sherlock got to a random room and hid in the closet.
He must have cameras everywhere, John mused. since Sherlock always been in sight.
28 minutes passed, and John felt his gut tighten.
Two minutes remaining and Sherlock would win that round, Two minutes.At the 1 minute left mark, Moriarty came into the room.
NONONONONO, came John's thoughts as the consultant criminal strode to the closet and opened it, the clock displaying a now red 00:43.
"Ready for the basement, Shezza?"
John, felt panic churn in his gut as the feed went black. His best friend was getting tortured and John couldn't do anything about it.
A few seconds later, he reached a decision, grabbed his coat and keys, then left the flat.
He would do something.
Ch.4 Sex and candy
Jim's P.O.V
He honestly couldn't believe Sherlock had been so boring, so predictable. It made him want to yank on those beautiful black curls in frustration. Hard enough to hear him scream. He pulled the detective down the steps, and even though Sherlock struggled, he was no match against Jim in his weakened state. He could barely leave a bruise.
Once he got him into the basement, he shut the door behind him."Now listen Shezza, I'm willing to reduce the three days down to one if you do me a favor."Jim purred, running his hand through his curls.
"No." Sherlock growled, trying to pull away. Moriarty held on tight to his curls, making the detective wince.
"Look, either you suck my cock willingly and have to stay in here a day, or I choke you with it and you still have to stay in here three days." It was a trick he used to break down resistance, reduce their punishment if they did something for you.Once he broke down Sherlock's resistance... that would be where the mental torture began. That part was always so fun.
"I won't." Sherlock hissed.
Moriarty sighed and clucked his tongue at him.
"Shame, I thought you were smarter than that."Moriarty said, using his right hand to unzip his trousers."
"Last chance, Shezza." he said, his voice coming out sing-song.
"No." Sherlock breathed out, becoming increasingly aware of the situation.
"Have it your way."Jim said with a shrug.
Before the detective could protest, Moriarty had his head of curls in his left hand, pulling his head up and shoving himself into Sherlock's mouth.
The detective struggled after choking, pushing at the criminals hips desperately to get air.Jim held him that way until the point he was red in the face, dots probably dancing in his vision, then pulling away for a few seconds to let him breathe.
When he shoved back in, Sherlock struggled harder, digging his nails into Moriarty's thighs, which to his displeasure, the criminal liked. He was all the way down the detectives throat and he stood there a few seconds, enjoying the way his throat was so warm and wet.
"You are nothing, Sherlock. All you are to most people is a toy that can be used. Solving crimes, sure. Being a best friend, sure. Being a tenant, awesome.Being mine to use in absolutely anyway possible, absolutely correct.You are wound up, and everybody just watches you as they let you loose. "Moriarty tugged at his curls roughly, making the detectives eyes tear up in pain. This was another way of breaking down the mind, insulting them during a particular humiliating moment.Make them feel like dirt. It was a part he enjoyed.
Finally, he decided to be nice and came down Sherlock's throat, slowly pulling out as he did so, leaving that beautiful mouth covered in his cum like icing."Mine."he hissed fiercely, bending down and using his thumb to smear it.He stood back up, pulled a lollipop from his pocket, humming as he walked away from Sherlock and out of the basement.
John's P.O.V
"You are going to tell me where Sherlock Holmes is right fucking now or so help me god I will kill you."John hissed out desperately, pressing his gun harder into the man who worked for Moriarty's throat.
"I-I swear I don't know."he gasped out frantically, eyes filling with tears.
"BULLSHIT!" he screamed, knocking the mans head against the wall.
"Tell me."he said in such a low tone the devil would've shivered.
"I don't know."the man sobbed desperately."P-P-Please don't k-kill me!"
"John, put the gun down."Lestrade said calmly, standing a few feet down from them in the alley.
"He knows where Sherlock is!"John insisted with a growl, staring at the crying man intensely.It took the doctor a few seconds to realize what he was doing and drop the man."Oh god...what did I just do?"John whispered.
"It's okay, John.You're worried about Sherlock.We all are."he said softly, squeezing his shoulder.John tucked the gun into his waistband, before feeling his phone buzz and a sense of dread washed over him.
"It's him. It's Moriarty."John said shakily as he pulled out his phone.I don't want to look, he thought to himself miserably.He opened up the video and winced visibly.
"What?" Greg demanded, and got beside him to see. His face softened as soon as he saw what was happening.
"Have it your way."Jim was purring and then they both watched as Moriarty claimed Sherlock's mouth.
John threw his phone at the wall, eyes tearing in disgust as the phone shattered, his mouth twisted in an angry smile.
Greg got a text and opened it, frowning in worry as he read it.
Naughty, Naughty John. I can't imagine what I could do to Sherlock now that you've made me angry. -JMx
John felt his nausea creep up on him. Why had he subjected his friend to more pain and misery? Why didn't he strugle through the video?
Sherlock's P.O.V
He leaned against that wall in shock for several hours,shivering from the cold and what had happened.He couldn't get the bitter taste of HIM to leave his mouth, he couldn't shake the disgust and shame he felt.
Why hadn't he taken the offer? Now he'd be freezing for days, instead of 24 hours.
"He's trying to break you and it's fucking working."John growled. (A/N: he's hallucinating. Just crushing your false hope now. Carry on)
"John?" Sherlock asked dazedly, lifting his head with a shiver.He knew how he must look like to the doctor right now, some filthy, broken play toy.
"Your cold.You should take this, it'll warm you up." John said, handing him the needle of cocaine that Jim had left behind.
"I don't want to take it, no matter how much better it might make me feel better.I don't want to give into him, don't want to be broken." But the warmth the cocaine would bring him was so tempting...and he was so cold.
"It'll help you, Sherlock.You won't hurt anymore."John said softly, that worried look in his eyes. Sherlock really couldn't stand that look. John looked like he was in pain with that look.
"Only once." he said firmly, reaching out for the needle. "I won"t do it willingly after this." He took the needle in hand, pressed it against his vein and pushed, hissing as the familiar burn lit it's way through his veins.
At least he wouldn't be cold any longer.
Ch.5 Fantasy
Sherlock's P.O.V
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there shaking, restless energy coursing through him yet he was too tired to get up. Random thoughts about John and the others coursed through his mind. Shouldn't they have found him by now?
"I see you took the cocaine, Shezza. You're turning out to be such a good boy." Moriarty purred as he walked in. "Tell you what, I'll give you a chance to get out today, like I did yesterday."
Yesterday? A whole day had passed... and he couldn't tell if that was bad he'd missed a whole day or good, because it was hell in the basement.
"If you touch yourself and bring yourself to come in front of me, I have a nice warm shower waiting for you and I'll let you get a nice sleep- with or without sedative if you like." Moriarty purred, sitting down beside him.
"And if I don't?" Sherlock asked quietly, his voice unsteady.
"Then I still make you come and leave you down here for the rest of today and tomorrow." Moriarty licked his lips and Sherlock gulped. That was a bad look for the criminal to have. Sherlock tried to get his mind to stop rushing and just think.
How bad would it be to touch himself in front of Moriarty? He wasn't being made to touch the criminal and the criminal wasn't touching him. Plus, a warm shower and sleep sounded so good right now...
"O-Okay, I'll do it." Sherlock said shakily, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Weakness was bad to show in front of the beast. Especially when you were the prey.
"Excellent." Moriarty purred, and Sherlock could feel his stare burning into him as he slid his trousers down. He shakily slipped a hand into his pants and tried to think of something sexually pleasing.
Surprisingly, John came to mind. John ordering him around while Sherlock was only wearing his dog tags, John pushing him up against the wall, John making love to him, John sucking him off; holding his hips so tight they were beginning to bruise, John only wearing his doctors coat and stethoscope, John whispering in his ear as his hands wandered over Sherlock's chest....
Sherlock was now painfully hard and tried to forget his enemy's presence as he stroked himself.
Instead, he pictured John there, whispering in his ear about how amazing he was, about how he was so clever and how he was so sexy when he deduced. Sherlock had closed his eyes, and was starting to pant.
John rescuing him from the cabbie, John trying to save him from Moriarty at the pool, helping him in his drugged state that Irene had put him in... "John!"escaped his lips before he remembered where he was, the orgasm making everything hazy for a few seconds.
"That was...surprising. Not." Moriarty said tauntingly, which made any good feeling Sherlock had go away. He pulled his hand out of his pants, grimacing. It was soaked in come, great. "Anyone could have guessed you love your little pet."
With lightning speed,Jim had that hand by the wrist and was licking it off. "Hmm... tastes like shameful pleasure." he said with a wicked grin,standing up and pulling the detective with him.
Sherlock looked at the criminal warily as he started to walk out of the basement, feeling exposed. He had just got himself off in front of the enemy while thinking of his best friend. How much more fucked up could his life get before the end of the day? Never mind, he didn't want to know.
John's P.O.V
Mycroft kept insisting that everything would be okay.They would get Sherlock back.They would get Jim in custody or dead.John wanted to scream, to pull his hair out. Mycroft hadn't seen Jim using Sherlock, hadn't seen the detective get raped, hadn't seen the game of hide and seek. And probably, wouldn't see today's rather unwelcome video.
John was right. As soon as Mycroft left, a little ping came through his email. He hadn't replaced his phone yet. The doctor shakily opened the new email, wanting to cringe as he saw he was right, it was a video. This was becoming uncomfortably routine.
John let out a breath and pressed play, Moriarty in a black room this time.
"I thought I'd show you a clip of what happened today while Sherlock is in the shower. I can't say it surprised me much, but it might you." Moriarty purred and the screen went black for a few seconds, before returning to show Sherlock and Moriarty in a basement.
And Sherlock...had his hand in his pants, trousers off. What the fuck brain, John thought as his pulse quickened. This is your best friend, stop it. And he's probably been forced to wank, it doesn't look like he actually wanted to. But still...the way Sherlock's breath came out in short, little pants made, and it made John slightly aroused.
But the thing that finally made him stiff as a rock was the way Sherlock exclaimed in a breathless voice his name. His fucking name. You must be going crazy, he thought to himself. Auditory hallucinations or something like that. Lack of sleep or not eating properly.
Too bad he couldn't show anyone else to get a opinion. That would be a invasion of Sherlock's privacy as well as his dignity.
"If you liked that, lets see whats going on in the shower." Moriarty said with a grin.John didn't want to see what was going on in the shower, Sherlock naked and John trying to deal with a erection was not a good thing.
But it was too late. The view switched to Sherlock, warm water pouring down that thin, lithe body. And over the rushing water, a steady stream of words could be heard.
"What did I just do? Oh God, John. But I didn't know what could I have done for John. God I miss him."and on, and on it went. Sherlock was rambling. He often did it when panicked, nervous or when he was working through a puzzle. One sentence in particular stopped him though.
"God I want him." And then Sherlock slid one of those elegant hands down to his plush ass, sliding a finger into his entrance. John was ashamed that a moan came out of him but he couldn't help it, it was so private and Sherlock didn't know he was watching...
And then, the video cut off. "Sorry to leave you all flustered but I don't want you to see him opening himself for me. I told him if he wanted any preparation at all, he'd have to do it to himself. Toodles!" And then, the video stopped.
Why did John feel so disappointed? He let out a disgusted groan at himself, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. He shouldn't have enjoyed that- Sherlock was being forced to do that for gods sake! And yet, a voice whispered, you liked it.
Moriarty's P.O.V.
Jim let out a pleased smirk at the army doctors frustration and moved to the bathroom. "2 more minutes darling and then you better be ready." he called, opening the door and sticking clothing on the counter. Sherlock would be surprised to see Jim had gotten the blue dressing gown from the flat.
It hadn't been hard. He simply waited for John to get frustrated he wasn't able to do anything and leave the flat at the same time Mrs.Hudson had gone to her sisters for a few days. Bada bing, bada boom! snatch dressing gown from detectives room and leave.
He would bet John didn't even notice it was gone. Probably was too afraid or nervous to go into the detectives room. Maybe both.
He rolled around in his spin-y chair, bored out of his mind. Waiting was always so dull. Finally, it was getting close to the 2 minute mark and he watched the bathroom door eagerly.
Sherlock came out and Jim felt his mouth dry. The detective had cut his curls off, leaving it with only a couple inches of length, so now his hair wasn't long enough to pull on.
He threw a cocky smirk towards the consulting criminal as Jim fumed, and ran a hand over the small amount of hair he had left, feeling over the waves it fell in.
"You are in a world of trouble."
A/N: I'll post 5 chapters at a time, till the last one, since there's 11 chapters to this.
John's P.O.V
Sherlock was gone. At first, John just thought he was out looking for a new case or something to relieve his boredom, but then, he was gone. Really gone. Sherlock hadn't been home in two days. And with no kind of communication or warning, it was worrisome.
"Mycroft, do you know where Sherlock is?" desperation rang in his voice, evident even over the phone.
"I thought you were with him. He did take out the cameras I had installed in your flat."
"He's not at the flat, although it was the last place I saw him."
John's hands were starting to feel clammy. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have left Sherlock alone. Bad things happened to Sherlock when John wasn't there. The doctor had been noticing cuts and bruises, soreness in the detective's limbs when he sat down, and now it was worse. Now he could be lost or.....kidnapped. He felt himself go white.
"He may have relapsed. I'll call some local dealers."
"Mycroft what if....he was kidnapped?"
The older Holmes brother was silent for a while.
"Then it may be impossible to find him, especially if the kidnapper doesn't want him to be found. Dr. Watson, I do suggest you hope he relapsed."
Moriarty's P.O.V
"Oh Sherly, calm down. After all, it's just your drug of choice. Soon it'll all be over." the consulting criminal purred in the detective's ear.
He tapped the needle a couple times, making sure there weren't air bubbles in it. He didn't want to kill Sherlock yet. Oh no, he wanted to break him down to his core, he wanted to hurt him. He wanted to have fun and make The Pet suffer for playing with his Sherlock. For getting rid of his fun side.
Jim Moriarty had known the fun Sherlock. He had spent months with him during a drug binge that the Sherlock now didn't remember. Oh, how fun that dirty little room had been, with an overdosed man and a grubby mattress.
"Calm down, Honey, or this'll kill you."
Sherlock was tied to a chair currently, waking up from the sedation. Jim had put a little something in his tea, Sherlock never noticed because John had given it to him. John hadn't taken notice because he thought Sherlock was finally crashing, and likely because he hadn't slept in several days. So, he had helped Sherlock to his bed and went off to work, leaving the consulting criminal to take what was his: Sherlock Holmes.
He steadied the needle against one of the only veins in the detectives left arm that wasn't blown out and pressed the plunger in. The dose was a little high for someone who hadn't had it in a while, but Jim wanted Sherlock to be affected right away, because oh boy was the detective going to hate what came next.
And the drugs, well they heightened the senses.
Jim watched as the detective sucked in a gulp of air, his eyes going wide. He knew what was happening now, how at first it felt like fire, travelling throughout your bloodstream, burning every nerve alive. Setting his flesh on fire and his mind on hyper-drive.
"Right then. If your a good boy, I won't tie you to the bed," Jim said, untying him from the chair.
He let out a laugh.
"Oh, what am I saying? I'm still going to. Maybe a collar to fit that pretty little neck of yours too. You can be my pet."
Sherlock gave him a glare.
"You will not put a collar on me, I-"
"You're not going to tell me what I will and will not be doing or I will kill John Watson."
Sherlock's P.O.V
Oh how his veins were on fire! And cocaine always made his brain speed up, and now every little possibility, every little fact or detail, was racing through his head. He was beginning to remember how hard it was to stay sane on this drug.
He could also tell that he was angry. Angry his enemy got a leg up on him and kidnapped him. Angry he was forced to relapse. Angry that he couldn't fight back. Angry that he would dare threaten John's life.
"How dare you!" he exclaimed, using his one free hand that Moriarty had untied to punch him. Of course, even with the significant force that was put behind the blow, the man never even flinched.
"Sherly, if you hit me again, I'm not joking, I will kill him, but before I kill him, I'll show him all the things he put you through by giving you that tea. Now, if you listen to me, I will not kill him. I won't hurt him. Much."
Sherlock sighed. He was stuck at an impasse. Save his best friend, his only friend, or give into the enemy and the drug. He knew which one was morally right, and he knew which one was absolutely wrong. What he could and couldn't do.
He let Moriarty lead him upstairs (wherever in the bloody hell they were, it was so damn dark that he couldn't even tell) and into what looked like a bedroom. His heart skipped a few beats in fear. He knew what was next.
The all black walls, black sheets, black carpets.....chilled him to the bone. This was a room you left someone in for a long time, someone you had made sure wouldn't escape. This was a room you chose when you were going to....no, he couldn't think it. It was too horrible. Sex scared him enough already, he knew practically nothing about it, didn't need to.
John, he thought miserably and barely noticed the whimper that came out of him. Jim grinned a wide smile, like a kid on his birthday.
"Stop thinking about it Sherlock." Jim growled, pressing his lips against the detectives lips forcefully. The detective struggled against the slightly shorter man, pressing at his chest, not opening his mouth when the Irish man so desperately wanted him to.
Jim pushed Sherlock onto the bed, producing a pair of handcuffs from what seemed like nowhere, and cuffing his wrists together. He tore the shirt off the detective (Sherlock's favorite shirt, the tight purple one that sexually frustrated everybody.) and started to unbutton his pants.
"I almost forgot you think you're a virgin. Don't worry I won't hurt you... at least not too bad, Sherly."
Ch.2
John's P.O.V
A few days later, John got sent a video from a unrecognized email address. One composed of seemingly random numbers and letters.
Somehow he knew it was who kidnapped Sherlock. He was terrified to open it. But he had to be strong. It could be a ransom video, or it could give him some clue to where the detective was.
He opened it to see a video file. The doctor took a deep breath, gulped and clicked play.
Instantly, his gut clenched. Jim Moriarty was standing next to a unconscious Sherlock, his head lulled to the side, his hair stringy, and clearly drugged. The detective had handcuffs placed at his ankles and wrists. There was no way he was getting out of that, even with his impressive skill set. Not with the state he was in.
"Hello John. Your poor little master is still sleeping soundly from that tea you gave him. I bet you're wondering, how'd I do it? Simple John, you should never, ever turn your back." The consulting criminal chuckled to himself.
"Anyways, onto the point. I want to see you and the detective suffer. You ruined a lot of great things for me by meddling with my plans. And yes John, I can see you suffer." John's stomach churned.He would ask how but it was like asking how Mycroft knew. He didn't want to know.
"So I may or may not ask for a ransom eventually. For now, it's fun playing with you both .Like for instance, i'm about to shoot him up with cocaine and take him upstairs to the bedroom and fuck him hard. And even if he's sleeping now, he'll wake up soon after we start. And he hasn't even had sex before." The consultant criminal paused. "Well, sex he remembers anyway .Shh, don't tell him." Jim giggled. "During his drug addled months, he was such a delight. And I had him on the verge of relapsing, even though he didn't bother to remember me when he got all dull and sober, much less our time together."
Moriarty pouted for a second before continuing in his dialogue.
"Just making his old dealers come by was almost enough to push him over the edge but then you came along and ruined everything." The criminals nose crinkled in distaste. "But I'm going to skip ahead to the good part of this, shall I?" The view darkened and a few seconds later,a naked Sherlock and Jim were shown.
"I would gag you if I didn't want John to hear you scream. You'd look so pretty with some thing in your mouth." Jim said to the now awake Sherlock.
This was the first time the doctor had ever seen his friend look scared, and he hated it.
He saw Moriarty's predatory gaze as he climbed on top of the detective,and saw Sherlock bite his lip, hard enough to make his lip bleed as the criminal penetrated him, barely bothering with any sort of preparation.
It was killing John to watch and yet, he couldn't look away.It was horrible.Tears ran down Sherlock's cheeks but to his enemy's frustration,he had not made a noise. So of course, Jim grabbed Sherlock's hair and pulled, making his upper body lift. With a sadistic grin, Moriarty started to bite fiercely at the other mans shoulders, pounding harder and harder into him.
When the detective let out the scream of pure agony is when John had to go throw up in the toilet. His hands were shaking as he walked back to his laptop. How...how had such a horrible thing happened? More importantly, how had he been stupid enough to drug Sherlock, and then leave for work to let him get kidnapped by the man who hated him with a passion and yet wanted him?
When he found the courage to look back at the video, they were done.A shaking Sherlock was curled up the best he could be ,a collar wrapped around his neck that said "pet".
John felt queasy again, but didn't know if anything else could come out of his stomach .His organs, maybe. And at that point, he wouldn't have mourned the loss.
The video faded to black and then, a sleeping Sherlock was shown.
"Isn't he beautiful?"Jim asked with a twisted smirk."Just so innocent, even when he's been touched, been...corrupted." The criminals eyes flashed dangerously.
"I'm not going to let you have him back, unless you pay the price." he hissed and then, with a click, the video was over.
Concerns flooded John. But foremost was What is the price? He bit his lip.
I'll get Mycroft and Lestrade, he thought. They're not as good as Sherlock but- and then it hit him.
It would take Sherlock to rescue Sherlock right now. John was pretty sure they didn't have another Sherlock around, and unless Baskerville had done some weird experiment, that was impossible.
I'll still get Mycroft and Lestrade, the doctor thought to himself. He'd do anything to get his friend back.
Sherlock's P.O.V
He didn't know how long he'd been here. Jim kept giving him cocaine and sedatives, and the room-of-black gave away no passing of time.
Cocaine when he wanted to torture him, to make him feel everything in the worst kind of way .Sedatives after the cocaine wore off to plan what he was going to do next.
"Case, case, case, I need a case, something to do! Please, please, please I just-I NEED something to do."
Sherlock ran his fingers through his curls in frustration as he paced.Right now, Jim was torturing him in one of the worst ways possible: letting him be bored on cocaine. The need to have something to challenge his mind, to make him think was only heightened by the infernal drug.
"What did I say earlier, honey? I'll only give you a challenge if you give me what I asked you to do earlier." Moriarty purred, a malicious grin sliding it's way onto his lips.
It was hard for Sherlock to bite back his pride, his dignity. But he was bored, so bloody bored.
Sherlock stepped towards the consulting criminal until there was only inches between them and let out a bitter sigh.
"Please give me a case, daddy.Just give me something to do, master." he turned sad eyes and a dramatic pout for extra effect, because he knew Moriarty would only reward him if he did a good job.
"Alright, pet."Jim breathed in his ear, the tone of his voice chilling the detective to the bone.
But God, was he bored.
Ch.3 Short change hero
Sherlock's P.O.V
Moriarty had given him a sort of game.It was hide and seek.If Sherlock won two out of three rounds, he would get a case, a box of nicotine patches and tea. The thought of it made the detective shiver in delight. But if he lost... he'd rather not lose.
If he lost, Moriarty was going to lock him them both in the basement for three days. On cocaine. The thought terrified him.
Sherlock had never been good at real hide and seek. The metaphorical kind he was amazing at. But in real life, Mycroft had always found him.
But he had no choice. He was too bored to not take the offer.
"You can hide anywhere you want to. You can't escape from me though, I'll kill John and torture you the rest of your life. If I don't find you in 30 minutes, you win the round. Go."
Sherlock remembered running mentally, mapping out a plan in his head, thinking of where the best place to hide was.
Where wouldn't Jim look? He wished John were here so he could bounce ideas off him but....
He'd been taken from John. He would just have to deal with that. Deal with it until he could fix it.
Think, Sherlock,think.Where would the best place to hide be?
"Ah, Ah, Ah, yeah staying alive! Staying alive!" started to boom out from speakers that he couldn't see, and Sherlock grimaced.
That was distracting. How, and more importantly, where was he supposed to hide?
John's P.O.V
A few days after the email, a link was sent to his phone. The caption read : Live feed of hide and seek - SH v.s JM.
John took a few deep breaths, and opened the video. It was split screen, on the left side was Sherlock and on the right side was Moriarty, prowling the hallways like a lion on the hunt.
In the bottom corner was a timer set for 30 minutes.
Another twisted game the consulting criminal was putting the detective through then.
"John, where, where should I hide? Should I go into another room? Tell me. Moriarty will be here in approximately 52 seconds."
Sherlock said frantically and John almost gasped in surprise. Surely he couldn't know that Moriarty was filming him.
"The footlocker, if it's big enough to fit you." John found himself replying.
"You'd hide in the footlocker." Sherlock stated, as if he could hear him. Or maybe, that was just how well Sherlock knew John. Sherlock climbed into the foot locker (it almost didn't fit him until Sherlock curled in on himself, which was a spectacular sight to see) and closed the lid. John could hear Moriarty's footsteps come into the room.
"Shezza, where are you?" the consultant criminal cooed, which was rather horrifying to hear.
John felt his heart beat rather painfully and knew Sherlock's was doing worse.
"Your hoping to win, it's cute. Just the comfort of a case makes you desperate, no matter the consequences. It would bring your rushing mind such relief to have something to focus on, to have something to tether you to focus. Even though there's a possibility you could loose and be forced to that dark, cold dungeon which will be way worse than the bed you've been in." Jim Moriarty's eyes scanned the room, a cold smirk appearing on his face.
"You're in here, I can tell. Can see the place you were standing with indecision as your mind raced to find a place to hide. You've always ran away from things Sherly, you never had to hide. Big brother made sure you didn't." John knew Sherlock's mind must be frantic right now, trying to think of ways to get out of the situation.
Jim's eyes settled on the footlocker and a cold, heartless grin spread over his face.
"Nononononono oh my god."John breathed out, clenching his fists in anger and fear. Jim looked to both sides of him, and then opened the chest.
John heard a long, steady stream of curses and hadn't thought Sherlock was THAT creative.
"Round one, won by Jim Moriarty." He announced to no one in particular. "Be more fun next time, would you?" Jim asked, giving Sherlock a little shove as he climbed out of the footlocker. "Go hide."
Sherlock took off running and John didn't blame him, Moriarty had to have been cheating somehow.
Sherlock got to a random room and hid in the closet.
He must have cameras everywhere, John mused. since Sherlock always been in sight.
28 minutes passed, and John felt his gut tighten.
Two minutes remaining and Sherlock would win that round, Two minutes.At the 1 minute left mark, Moriarty came into the room.
NONONONONO, came John's thoughts as the consultant criminal strode to the closet and opened it, the clock displaying a now red 00:43.
"Ready for the basement, Shezza?"
John, felt panic churn in his gut as the feed went black. His best friend was getting tortured and John couldn't do anything about it.
A few seconds later, he reached a decision, grabbed his coat and keys, then left the flat.
He would do something.
Ch.4 Sex and candy
Jim's P.O.V
He honestly couldn't believe Sherlock had been so boring, so predictable. It made him want to yank on those beautiful black curls in frustration. Hard enough to hear him scream. He pulled the detective down the steps, and even though Sherlock struggled, he was no match against Jim in his weakened state. He could barely leave a bruise.
Once he got him into the basement, he shut the door behind him."Now listen Shezza, I'm willing to reduce the three days down to one if you do me a favor."Jim purred, running his hand through his curls.
"No." Sherlock growled, trying to pull away. Moriarty held on tight to his curls, making the detective wince.
"Look, either you suck my cock willingly and have to stay in here a day, or I choke you with it and you still have to stay in here three days." It was a trick he used to break down resistance, reduce their punishment if they did something for you.Once he broke down Sherlock's resistance... that would be where the mental torture began. That part was always so fun.
"I won't." Sherlock hissed.
Moriarty sighed and clucked his tongue at him.
"Shame, I thought you were smarter than that."Moriarty said, using his right hand to unzip his trousers."
"Last chance, Shezza." he said, his voice coming out sing-song.
"No." Sherlock breathed out, becoming increasingly aware of the situation.
"Have it your way."Jim said with a shrug.
Before the detective could protest, Moriarty had his head of curls in his left hand, pulling his head up and shoving himself into Sherlock's mouth.
The detective struggled after choking, pushing at the criminals hips desperately to get air.Jim held him that way until the point he was red in the face, dots probably dancing in his vision, then pulling away for a few seconds to let him breathe.
When he shoved back in, Sherlock struggled harder, digging his nails into Moriarty's thighs, which to his displeasure, the criminal liked. He was all the way down the detectives throat and he stood there a few seconds, enjoying the way his throat was so warm and wet.
"You are nothing, Sherlock. All you are to most people is a toy that can be used. Solving crimes, sure. Being a best friend, sure. Being a tenant, awesome.Being mine to use in absolutely anyway possible, absolutely correct.You are wound up, and everybody just watches you as they let you loose. "Moriarty tugged at his curls roughly, making the detectives eyes tear up in pain. This was another way of breaking down the mind, insulting them during a particular humiliating moment.Make them feel like dirt. It was a part he enjoyed.
Finally, he decided to be nice and came down Sherlock's throat, slowly pulling out as he did so, leaving that beautiful mouth covered in his cum like icing."Mine."he hissed fiercely, bending down and using his thumb to smear it.He stood back up, pulled a lollipop from his pocket, humming as he walked away from Sherlock and out of the basement.
John's P.O.V
"You are going to tell me where Sherlock Holmes is right fucking now or so help me god I will kill you."John hissed out desperately, pressing his gun harder into the man who worked for Moriarty's throat.
"I-I swear I don't know."he gasped out frantically, eyes filling with tears.
"BULLSHIT!" he screamed, knocking the mans head against the wall.
"Tell me."he said in such a low tone the devil would've shivered.
"I don't know."the man sobbed desperately."P-P-Please don't k-kill me!"
"John, put the gun down."Lestrade said calmly, standing a few feet down from them in the alley.
"He knows where Sherlock is!"John insisted with a growl, staring at the crying man intensely.It took the doctor a few seconds to realize what he was doing and drop the man."Oh god...what did I just do?"John whispered.
"It's okay, John.You're worried about Sherlock.We all are."he said softly, squeezing his shoulder.John tucked the gun into his waistband, before feeling his phone buzz and a sense of dread washed over him.
"It's him. It's Moriarty."John said shakily as he pulled out his phone.I don't want to look, he thought to himself miserably.He opened up the video and winced visibly.
"What?" Greg demanded, and got beside him to see. His face softened as soon as he saw what was happening.
"Have it your way."Jim was purring and then they both watched as Moriarty claimed Sherlock's mouth.
John threw his phone at the wall, eyes tearing in disgust as the phone shattered, his mouth twisted in an angry smile.
Greg got a text and opened it, frowning in worry as he read it.
Naughty, Naughty John. I can't imagine what I could do to Sherlock now that you've made me angry. -JMx
John felt his nausea creep up on him. Why had he subjected his friend to more pain and misery? Why didn't he strugle through the video?
Sherlock's P.O.V
He leaned against that wall in shock for several hours,shivering from the cold and what had happened.He couldn't get the bitter taste of HIM to leave his mouth, he couldn't shake the disgust and shame he felt.
Why hadn't he taken the offer? Now he'd be freezing for days, instead of 24 hours.
"He's trying to break you and it's fucking working."John growled. (A/N: he's hallucinating. Just crushing your false hope now. Carry on)
"John?" Sherlock asked dazedly, lifting his head with a shiver.He knew how he must look like to the doctor right now, some filthy, broken play toy.
"Your cold.You should take this, it'll warm you up." John said, handing him the needle of cocaine that Jim had left behind.
"I don't want to take it, no matter how much better it might make me feel better.I don't want to give into him, don't want to be broken." But the warmth the cocaine would bring him was so tempting...and he was so cold.
"It'll help you, Sherlock.You won't hurt anymore."John said softly, that worried look in his eyes. Sherlock really couldn't stand that look. John looked like he was in pain with that look.
"Only once." he said firmly, reaching out for the needle. "I won"t do it willingly after this." He took the needle in hand, pressed it against his vein and pushed, hissing as the familiar burn lit it's way through his veins.
At least he wouldn't be cold any longer.
Ch.5 Fantasy
Sherlock's P.O.V
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there shaking, restless energy coursing through him yet he was too tired to get up. Random thoughts about John and the others coursed through his mind. Shouldn't they have found him by now?
"I see you took the cocaine, Shezza. You're turning out to be such a good boy." Moriarty purred as he walked in. "Tell you what, I'll give you a chance to get out today, like I did yesterday."
Yesterday? A whole day had passed... and he couldn't tell if that was bad he'd missed a whole day or good, because it was hell in the basement.
"If you touch yourself and bring yourself to come in front of me, I have a nice warm shower waiting for you and I'll let you get a nice sleep- with or without sedative if you like." Moriarty purred, sitting down beside him.
"And if I don't?" Sherlock asked quietly, his voice unsteady.
"Then I still make you come and leave you down here for the rest of today and tomorrow." Moriarty licked his lips and Sherlock gulped. That was a bad look for the criminal to have. Sherlock tried to get his mind to stop rushing and just think.
How bad would it be to touch himself in front of Moriarty? He wasn't being made to touch the criminal and the criminal wasn't touching him. Plus, a warm shower and sleep sounded so good right now...
"O-Okay, I'll do it." Sherlock said shakily, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Weakness was bad to show in front of the beast. Especially when you were the prey.
"Excellent." Moriarty purred, and Sherlock could feel his stare burning into him as he slid his trousers down. He shakily slipped a hand into his pants and tried to think of something sexually pleasing.
Surprisingly, John came to mind. John ordering him around while Sherlock was only wearing his dog tags, John pushing him up against the wall, John making love to him, John sucking him off; holding his hips so tight they were beginning to bruise, John only wearing his doctors coat and stethoscope, John whispering in his ear as his hands wandered over Sherlock's chest....
Sherlock was now painfully hard and tried to forget his enemy's presence as he stroked himself.
Instead, he pictured John there, whispering in his ear about how amazing he was, about how he was so clever and how he was so sexy when he deduced. Sherlock had closed his eyes, and was starting to pant.
John rescuing him from the cabbie, John trying to save him from Moriarty at the pool, helping him in his drugged state that Irene had put him in... "John!"escaped his lips before he remembered where he was, the orgasm making everything hazy for a few seconds.
"That was...surprising. Not." Moriarty said tauntingly, which made any good feeling Sherlock had go away. He pulled his hand out of his pants, grimacing. It was soaked in come, great. "Anyone could have guessed you love your little pet."
With lightning speed,Jim had that hand by the wrist and was licking it off. "Hmm... tastes like shameful pleasure." he said with a wicked grin,standing up and pulling the detective with him.
Sherlock looked at the criminal warily as he started to walk out of the basement, feeling exposed. He had just got himself off in front of the enemy while thinking of his best friend. How much more fucked up could his life get before the end of the day? Never mind, he didn't want to know.
John's P.O.V
Mycroft kept insisting that everything would be okay.They would get Sherlock back.They would get Jim in custody or dead.John wanted to scream, to pull his hair out. Mycroft hadn't seen Jim using Sherlock, hadn't seen the detective get raped, hadn't seen the game of hide and seek. And probably, wouldn't see today's rather unwelcome video.
John was right. As soon as Mycroft left, a little ping came through his email. He hadn't replaced his phone yet. The doctor shakily opened the new email, wanting to cringe as he saw he was right, it was a video. This was becoming uncomfortably routine.
John let out a breath and pressed play, Moriarty in a black room this time.
"I thought I'd show you a clip of what happened today while Sherlock is in the shower. I can't say it surprised me much, but it might you." Moriarty purred and the screen went black for a few seconds, before returning to show Sherlock and Moriarty in a basement.
And Sherlock...had his hand in his pants, trousers off. What the fuck brain, John thought as his pulse quickened. This is your best friend, stop it. And he's probably been forced to wank, it doesn't look like he actually wanted to. But still...the way Sherlock's breath came out in short, little pants made, and it made John slightly aroused.
But the thing that finally made him stiff as a rock was the way Sherlock exclaimed in a breathless voice his name. His fucking name. You must be going crazy, he thought to himself. Auditory hallucinations or something like that. Lack of sleep or not eating properly.
Too bad he couldn't show anyone else to get a opinion. That would be a invasion of Sherlock's privacy as well as his dignity.
"If you liked that, lets see whats going on in the shower." Moriarty said with a grin.John didn't want to see what was going on in the shower, Sherlock naked and John trying to deal with a erection was not a good thing.
But it was too late. The view switched to Sherlock, warm water pouring down that thin, lithe body. And over the rushing water, a steady stream of words could be heard.
"What did I just do? Oh God, John. But I didn't know what could I have done for John. God I miss him."and on, and on it went. Sherlock was rambling. He often did it when panicked, nervous or when he was working through a puzzle. One sentence in particular stopped him though.
"God I want him." And then Sherlock slid one of those elegant hands down to his plush ass, sliding a finger into his entrance. John was ashamed that a moan came out of him but he couldn't help it, it was so private and Sherlock didn't know he was watching...
And then, the video cut off. "Sorry to leave you all flustered but I don't want you to see him opening himself for me. I told him if he wanted any preparation at all, he'd have to do it to himself. Toodles!" And then, the video stopped.
Why did John feel so disappointed? He let out a disgusted groan at himself, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. He shouldn't have enjoyed that- Sherlock was being forced to do that for gods sake! And yet, a voice whispered, you liked it.
Moriarty's P.O.V.
Jim let out a pleased smirk at the army doctors frustration and moved to the bathroom. "2 more minutes darling and then you better be ready." he called, opening the door and sticking clothing on the counter. Sherlock would be surprised to see Jim had gotten the blue dressing gown from the flat.
It hadn't been hard. He simply waited for John to get frustrated he wasn't able to do anything and leave the flat at the same time Mrs.Hudson had gone to her sisters for a few days. Bada bing, bada boom! snatch dressing gown from detectives room and leave.
He would bet John didn't even notice it was gone. Probably was too afraid or nervous to go into the detectives room. Maybe both.
He rolled around in his spin-y chair, bored out of his mind. Waiting was always so dull. Finally, it was getting close to the 2 minute mark and he watched the bathroom door eagerly.
Sherlock came out and Jim felt his mouth dry. The detective had cut his curls off, leaving it with only a couple inches of length, so now his hair wasn't long enough to pull on.
He threw a cocky smirk towards the consulting criminal as Jim fumed, and ran a hand over the small amount of hair he had left, feeling over the waves it fell in.
"You are in a world of trouble."