I am not dead, are you? (SherlockXMoriarty PostRBF)

Sherlock had no idea he had been playing with fire until Jim started talking again, the look on his face, the words, everything hurt. He felt the jealousy burning in his stomach, he felt his heart beating fast.

"Do you love him?" he heard himself ask, his eyes fixed on Jim's back. It would make sense, eespecially if Jim had tried to protect him.
Sherlock had no idea he could feel so miserable.

He stared out of the window, by now the sight became so common. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing Seb, his blonde hair, his body, his sarcastic comments, everything played in loops in his head. He bit his lower lip as he heard Sherlock's question.

Did he loved Sebastian? He slowly moved his head in an attempt to look at Sherlock but his body refused. "In a certain way." He replied. Seb was more like his best friend. Or a friend with benefits. Seb made him feel less empty, he was always there no matter how sick jim's demands were. They did have sex, not often, but the occasion had arose. A shiver ran through his spine and emptiness was filling his body and mind.

Sherlock felt like he could read Jim's mind in that moment, he saw everything he felt on his face, on his posture, and for the first time in ages he hated his gift and his mind.

"Did you have sex with him?" he seethed, even though he knew the answer already, it was written all over the way Jim was reminescing.

The detective wanted to scream, he wanted to scream and hide away. Why had he even started talking about this?

He closed his eyes, still nipping on his own lower lip. Did Sherlock knew what he was thinking? Most likely.

He swallowed loud as the question reached his ears. "Yes." He replied in all honestly.
He didn't want to lie, not on a moment like this. Images of the night they shared now came to mind, but as soon as they came, James managed to ban them out again. By now the emptiness he suddenly began to feel reached the point of actually physical ache. His whole body tensed up and he felt pinned to a floor that slowly got ripped from underneath his feet, making him fall down a gaping hole of emotions, thoughts and feelings.

He felt his eyes go dry, they went dry and burn for a long moment.
He looked to the side, he had no idea jealousy could hurt this way. Why was he jealous? It was none of his business, it was in the past as well.
Jim was here now... but he felt oh so distant at the moment.

How dare Jim get Sherlock of John?
He never had John! He never had anyone!
He punched the bed, angered, livid.
Words failing him completely.

Jim slowly turned around as he heard a strange sound coming from behind him. He managed to see Sherlock's balled hand resting on the sheets. "Sherlock? What's wrong?" He was utterly confused.

Did he managed to hurt Sherlock through his words? He recalled their conversation but failed at finding the point he went wrong. He didn't take Sherlock as being a jealous man, after all, what would even make him jealous? James just told him the name to bring down his whole network. Sherlock did get what he asked for...

Sherlock's eyes were on fire as he looked up at him, "I told you I am jealous of Sebastian and you tell me you fucked him?" he hissed, and his nails dipped further in his palms.

"How dare you even dream of being jealous of John!" he continued, his voice raising higher. "You oblivous idiot, I cannot believe you! Sighing away while thinking of your lover, aren't you?"

He was surprised at the anger he found as his eyes scanned over Sherlock's face. He then lowered to his hand and back up to his face. "You /asked/ me!" He pointed out while he was still surprised at the detective's fierce reaction.

"Sebastian is NOT my lover." He shouted back as he took a step closer to the bed. "He's a friend, someone to fill up the emptiness. Someone to talk to and be there for me when I needed it." He tried to explain. "Yes... Yes we had sex various times, but what does that matter?" He didn't saw Sherlock's point, when all of this happened Sherlock wasn't even interested, he didn't want to have anything to do with Moriarty.

"Ah, now it's even several times!!!" he shouted, furious, he wished he could slap Jim, but his muscles were too tense to allow him any movement.

"Was he a challenge too? Did you have to seduce him for days before he gave in?" he hissed, he knew he didn't make sense, he was jealous. and pure jealousy was just pure fear, fear Sherlock did not know how to deal with.

"Yes, several times!" He shouted before shaking his head. Sherlock was just being stupid now. What did he expect, James was still a virgin just like he was? He just stared at him for a few seconds before he let Sherlock's next words sink in.

A sound of disagreement escaped his lips. "He was my employee!" There was no point in arguing with Sherlock at this point. James lowered his voice, shouting back would only make things worst. "You need to calm down." He said. "Please."

The change in Jim's tone alarmed Sherlock, he felt his head turn quickly, dizzy, and he took in a deep breath, falling back on the bed.

What was he doing?

If this was jealousy, he didn't want to feel it again, it was horrible, it burned him, it hurt him.

"I hate... what you are doing to me..." he hissed, his breathing shallow. "I don't like love... it hurts..." he protested, closing his eyes.

James inhaled deep before speaking again. "If you hate it this much..." He paused. "I'll leave."

"I want you to be happy, I don't want to hurt you." Sadness made his voice sound raw. But if Sherlock hated all of this so much, he'd go back to england straight away. He didn't want to cause him even more pain. If Sherlock would be better off without him, then he'd leave him be.

He turned around, shuffling over to his suitcase as he started to sort it out.

Sherlock growled at the words, turning on the bed and punching it again. "You just menage to hurt me more, how the hell does this work? How does it get better?" he asked, desparate, holding his chest.

"You promised you would stay," he whispered, exhausted, burying his face in the duvet. He really had no idea how to process this. "I don't want you to go, I don't know why, but it hurts just more..."

((gotta go to sleep~ <3))

"Make up your damn mind." He threw Sherlock an angry face as he walked over to the bed. "What am I supposed to do? You hate me for making you feel things, I hurt you, you insult me and yet when I offer to leave in order to no longer hurt you I am hurting you even more." His mind exploded with confusion. "Sherlock...What do you want from me?" He asked clear, standing just outside the bed.

((Gooodnight. Once more, I am LOVING this RP. ))

Sherlock groaned, frustration building up in his chest. "I would like for you to be less of an idiot!" He snapped, sitting up as straight as a bolt. "Stop asking me questions I have already given you the answer to, for God's sake, just think!"

Sherlock could not bring himself to explain how he felt, but he was sure his jealousy and distress were proof enough by now. How could Jim not see that?
"You know very well I think feelings are a disadvantage, I am never going to be rationally happy about what you make me feel, but that doesn't mean I don't feel them..."


((Same here, I am amazed we were able to make it dramatic again XDD ))

Jim shook his head and rolled his eyes. "There's only one idiot in the room right now, and it ain't me." He turned around again. He did not had to take this coming from Sherlock's mouth. Jim's own feelings were blurring out his ability to pick up on Sherlock's.

"I'm certain you feel them but you keep pushing them away. For God's sake Sherlock just stop being so persistent all the time." Jim looked at his bag once again. Should he leave? For good this time? Should he leave this all behind? And if so would it help the situation? He sighed.

He needed fresh air, he did not want the same situation as this morning. He opened the window and stepped out on to the balcony. He inhaled deep, the fresh air cooling down his over heated chest. How did they even manage to get in to this one? His hands rested on the banister and he let them carry his full body weight.

((I know right I thought let's add some jealousy to spice things up ))

((It worked it worked, I like how you think~~))

Sherlock scoffed, turning in the bed and curling up to sulk. He was no idiot! He thought petulant, he didn't like to be dragged out of his coldness, this was way too close, his feelings were a complete mess and while he wished he could just go back to holding Jim's hand, he was also rather too proud to say that he just wanted him to cuddle him.

"You're not leaving," he mumbled simply, and he would hide Jim's things if he had to. God, he knew he was being childish, he just couldn't help it.

A throbbing headache had started to built his home inside of the criminal's mind. What now? Should he walk back in and apologies for something he, at this point, didn't even feel sorry for? And if he did Sherlock wouldn't even listen.

Aware of fact Sherlock wasn't going to swallow his pride, he glanced over his shoulder. The detective curled up on the bed, not facing him. He rolled his eyes and stared back over the city again. One of his hands reached for his forehead and slowly massaged it, this headache was killing him.

After a while of sulking, Sherlock started moving a bit, it was not fair that he had to stay here with the window open. It was cold. And he felt lonely. And he really was tired on sulking anyway.

Damn, he muttered and stood up, moving outside as well and wrapping his arms around Jim's waist, his face burying in between his shoulder blades. "'s cold," he said as an excuse, he hoped that was enough.

Jim had stood with eyes closed, cut off from any ongoing thing. All he could think about was either his throbbing headache or Sherlock and the words he'd been saying earlier.

With hands moving around him he got pulled back to earth. It wasn't until now he realized it indeed was rather chilly. Sherlock's arms and body were more than welcome to keep him from shivering now he was aware of the cold. He entangled his own fingers with the other man's and made his arms wrap around his middle even more tight.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

Sherlock frowned at the apology, "Don't apologize," he protested, his voice muffled by Jim's shirt. "It makes me feel guilty... I don't want to apologize..." he added, squeezing him slightly.

He swallowed hard before he spoke again: "I want to touch you," his hand moving lower on the other's chest, "I want to touch you again... and I want to make you forget about that Sebastian..."

Jim swallowed just as loud. "Okay." He whispered "But just know I didn't mean to upset you."

As Sherlock's hands ran over his chest his withdraw his abdomen slightly. He could feel the warm of Sherlock's whole body radiating over him and it felt good.

"I managed to keep him out of my mind all this time. Until... earlier." He explained. Seb and him had fights all the time, they always escalated and violence was being used a lot. But fighting with Sherlock felt wrong. it made him feel bad, it hurt him.

"I have realized that is not your purpose," he admitted, his fingers ghosting over the other's stomach and belly, they stopped at his belt, hooking around it.

"I don't care if you manage... I want to be able to chase him away, I want to be able to... pleasure you, better than he did," he said and kissed the back of his neck. He was hardly confident in what he was doing, but his pride was rather strong.

A shiver ran through his spine as Sherlock kissed his neck. His body tensed up slightly and his eyes followed Sherlock's hands down. What was he even doing?

It didn't really matter though, Jim was loving Sherlock's attention.
He opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of Sherlock's face.

A playful grin formed on his lips. "Hmmm You need to be /very/ good to tip that." He joked, hoping Sherlock would get the sense of humor in his comment.

Sherlock groaned, his hand balling into a fist, before it relaxed again. "I'll show you," he said warningly and his hand dipped down, cupping Jim's crotch and fondling him mercilessly.

"You are not even going to remember your name by the time I am done with you," he mumbled, and pulled him back into the room.