It all starts one day, a few pints (John Watson/James Moriarty)

John really liked his new flatmate.
He was brilliant.
He was handsome.
He was dangerous.

He was also an asshole though.

Apart from the ever coming insults, there was also the breech of privacy, the lack of personal space, the drugs, the cockblocking, nothing was ever easy when he was at home.

So after getting dumped by the 3rd girl this month because of Sherlock's meddling, he decided he needed something easy.

A few pints at the pub.
Far from Baker Street, where no one knew him.
He just needed to relax, he thought as he sat by the counter and ordered his first beer.

A rough week hung over James's back. He felt stressed and needed to relax for a moment.
Away from coldly slaughtering people. Though, he wasn't an outgoing person at all, he decided to go to a pub. A few drinks would do to take the stress of last week out. Well, at least it was worth the try.

He didn't need company, he'd rather be on his own so he couldn't be reminded of anything going on.
For once he didn't even let someone drive him there, no, he'd go by taxi.

Dressed in a casual jeans and white V neck T shirt he entered the pub, overlooking the place for a not so obvious seat. He found one in the left corner after ordering something at the bar.

John had no idea why he looked up when he heard the door of the pub open. It was not the first time it opened that night, but it was the first time he looked.
He saw the man who came in, he took a long look at him, even though he never usually looked guys over.
Not any more at least.

Blue eyes closed and he looked away, to his beer.
He was not here to hook up, that would just complicate things. Especially to get off with a man.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to though, he thought, resting his head on his hand.

Of course John's stares didn't pass Moriarty by. He'd secretly stared John down from where's been sitting. Fit body, he must admit. Probably trained for the army, he could tell by the way he was holding himself up. Interesting.

As he saw John's pint nearly empty, he decided to buy him another one. His way of drawing attention and not coming across as a psychopath. This is what ordinary people do, right?

As the waitress brought his pint he spotted John looking in his direction. He firmly lifted some of his fingers as a wave to say hello.

John's eyebrow rose when a new pint was put before him. He hadn't ordered that.
The waitress pointed towards the newcomer and John felt himself swallow hard.
How unexpected.

Fate, one would say. He didn't believe in that kind of rubbish, though.

"Very well," he told himself and stood up, taking his beer and going to sit by the handsome bloke.

"I am not gay, but I appreciate people buying me drinks any time," he said, moving his pint for a cheer. "Especially today."

"Name's John," he introduced himself with a polite grin.

"I didn't knew being gay was a requirement to buy someone a drink." He returned with a equally polite grin. "Jim, pleasure to meet you." He quickly added, wanting to avoid 'gay' as the first topic they'd talk about.

"Cheers" He said, raising his own glass and sipping from it.
"So, rough day I take it?" John mentioning the fact that today was a good day to buy him drinks made the perfect ammunition to break the ice.

Starting a conversation as a "normal" person wasn't one of his best features, but he felt confident about this one.

"It's a good way to hook up, if you ask me," he said off-handedly, watching their glasses come together and then starting on his beer. "And you are a handsome bloke," he was honest, even though he knew it was better to shut up about those kind of things.
Never learned that lesson in school.

"Awful. Need to keep my mind off... life, I guess," he admitted, relaxing a bit on the chair. "Chatting with a stranger seems something useful for once, I could make up any kind of backstory for myself..."

"Irish, aren't you?" he asked, sensing a bit of an accent.

"Well I find myself wandering on the same street. Rough week." He replied "I do believe your background story should involve some army training, shouldn't it?" With a smile on his face he let the stranger now that making up stories wouldn't be the most luminous idea.

"Born and raised on the Emerald Isle." He nodded, approving John's assumption.

The nerves slowly started to die as the conversation started to feel more natural. Though, John's easy going way was, without a doubt, the reason why.

John looked at him surprised, then frowned. "Are you one of those as well? Seems lately I attract people who can read through me like a book," he said with half a grin, he was not going to damper the mood with complaints.

"I was in the army, but it turns out they don't like it when you get shot for them," he explained with another sip of fresh beer.
This was heavenly.

"I've been there. For a training camp when I was young," he muttered, looking up at the ceiling, as if remembering. "I remember the sky... never seen anything bluer. Granted, only when it wasn't raining."

"One of those?" He curiously lifted one of his eyebrows. The words the blonde man in front of him just spoke had made his heart jump. False alarm, though. John had no idea who the stranger he just met actually was.

"Don't worry. I just happen to have a good friend who's army trained. Same physical habits, I suppose." Close one! But John seemed to buy it. Politely he smiled again, locking eyes with John for a brief moment.

"I haven't been in Ireland for a while." He shrugged, not wanted to think about it. They needed a new subject, something light that they could discuss.

Without thinking he spoke to first thing that came to mind "So you come here often?". How lame, especially coming from James.

John was not a detective, but his instincts worked just fine and he could tell the other man wasn't exactly relaxed, maybe he had scared him a bit with his gay comment? But again, this man had looked at him hard enough to realize he was in the army, how was he not interested?

He kept that out of his thoughts though, and focused on him. "Not really, just wanted to be out of the same few streets I usually lurk in," he said, and downed half of his pint. "I don't get much free time nowadays, got to take care of someone," he explained off-handedly.

"How about you? Regular customer?" he inquired amiably.

"I see." He showed some interest in John's story by nodding every now and then. As he finished his own drink he already ordered both of them a new one. He didn't want this conversation to and at the beginning.

"Regular? No, no not at all. I don't tend to visit bars very often. Busy work schedule." With an ever so polite smile he wrapped that sentence up. "Came here to forget about that, though." He added so he didn't leave John any space to ask about his work.

"Mm, avoiding work talk, I like you already," he said, taking the new beer in his hand. "This helps too," he motioned to the pint. It was always a pleasure to drink for free, he could do that any day.

"Let's talk about something more interesting... like hobbies? What do you like?" he asked, grinning at him. "Apart from taking care of animals and long walks on the beach, I mean."

He laughed John's last comment off. Little did he knew this man's hobbies were to folter people, blew up buildings and plotting out insane, sick, mindgames.

"Hobbies hm... Reading, watching some telly, walking around the street..I'm nothing special. He almost felt ashamed at his own lying, but he mastered the skill of hiding he actually was. "You? Collecting stamps?" He joked, trying to lighten this mood up.

As the 3th whiskey arrives the alcohol started reaching his brain. He found himself giggling more often at this he wouldn't even conciser funny in the first place. But all was good, he became attached to John's company.

John laughed: "Something like that," he joked and found himself bumping the other's shoulder softly. It was an accident, he told himself, he was not looking for contact. "I take care of people usually, or shoot them, but I can't say I like it."

"Nothing special, you say," he muttered, and licked the condensation from his finger. "I am definitely nothing special, rather ordinary, look at my jumper," he said, not realizing he was parroting something he had heard Sherlock say about him.

"One can find many interesting people in London these days, it gets easily boring though," he admitted.

That bump was NOT an accident his mind was screaming. Though, he didn't mind. He didn't had physical contact in a while, and it was starting to take his tole.

"Oh please, that jumper looks utterly cute on you!" .... wait... Did he just used the term cute? To a stranger? He blamed it on the alcohol. Though unaware he'd brushed his hand over the jumper along with his words. Oh well...

"Interesting people can be found anywhere, even in a pub." He winked. Was he really flirting with this guy?

John looked up a bit disbelievingly at the mention of the word cute as opposed to his jumper. "Well, now... thank you?" he said, wondering if he should reiterate how ungay he was.
Which he wasn't anyway.

What was wrong with some mindless flirting anyway? It was the best way to pass the time, he reckoned.

"It seems like it," he agreed, blue eyes looking up and fixing into Jim's pair as he sipped the end of his beer. "Should I move onto something stronger myself? How about some tequila?" he suggested flagging down the waiter. "I assure you I get very interesting when drunk."
Not that he usually remembered.

"I can't wait to witness that myself." He said in a low, serious voice, as if he was encouraging the blonde man to get drunk as fast as possible. Well, yes, maybe now that did became his intention.
Just before the waiter arrived he finished up his own drink.

"Double that" He smiled, ordering himself the same drink as John.

There was something appealing about him, though he appeared to be far from someone he'd usually pick. But then again nothing about this situation was usual, so it didn't really matter. He hopped his chair a bit closer to the other's, hoping he wouldn't mind.

John noticed the movement, but did not comment, it was much more exciting this way, taking things as they went.
"Good boy," he commented as they were served the same drink. He looked at the two shots and decided he could get drunk today.
He deserved a break.

Something wasn't quite right though.
He noticed the waitress retreat quickly and he felt a presence behind them.

"You poofs, innit?" A voice came from behind, and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
His injured one.

John's composure changed suddenly.
When he glared back at the tall bloke that was disturbing them, he did not look amiable at all.

"Piss off, mate," he warned, standing up.



((figured they could get in a pub fight? They can proceed to get drunk somewhere else after that... I reckon a bit of violence might turn them on a bit? XDD I am evil I know, but Moriarty's gotta see BAMFJohn))

James nodded politely as the waitress dropped their liquid love. "On a good night" he cheered before swallowing the liquid.

He felt the alcohol rush straight through his veins. He loved the feeling, dizzy, lightheaded and not having a care in the world.

As he noticed the tall man interrupting he snapped back to senses. His knowledge about these kinds of situations warned him this wasn't going to end up with John's friendly warning.

Although he didn't like getting his hands dirty, he did know how to fight. So if this was coming down to a matter of strength, he positioned himself as underdog considering his length and body shape.

"Easy, both of you." He calmly interrupted, hoping it just wouldn't end up in a fight. Though john was already radiating the vibe. As for himself he could feel adrenaline mixing up with the alcohol which caused his body to react in a way he'd seldom felt before.

(( Haha sounds like a plan! I'll happily tag along with it ))

"I am not your mate," said the tall bloke with a sneer. "I just asked you a question, are you poofs?" he slurred, clearly drunk, and clearly not friendly.

John sighed, and looked at Jim. "I am terribly sorry, but you know what? I hate this kind of blokes. Spoiling the fun for everyone," he muttered, before he threw the first punch.

He was a doctor and a soldier, he knew how to hit to hurt the most, the bloke was double his size, but he crumpled to the floor like it was nothing.

John turned around and grabbed his tequila shot, downing it with a grimace. "Ahh.. now I feel better," he said as if he hadn't just punched a man to his knees.

"We should probably move to another pub before his actual mates realize what happened..." he commented briefly, why he thought Jim would want to stick with him, he wasn't sure. "They are slow, but not that slow..." he muttered, motioning to a group of lads who were looking in their direction.

He gazed in surprise as he saw John's fist swing. Secretly he found it incredibly sexy, though, at this point that wasn't their first concern. "Nice one." He couldn't help but compliment the soldier.

If this was a normal situation, james would have already snapped his fingers, having an hitman take care of this instantly. The whole situation amused him though, he loved the kick he was getting out of the danger of being beaten up by that bloke's palls.

"Right time to leave" he concluded as the group started moving in their direction. As an automatic impulse he grabbed John's hand, starting to drag him along towards the door.

Despite the real danger looming over them, John laughed a bit as Jim took his hand and dragged him towards the door. It had been a while since he had the time to aim a nice punch like that, during cases he was always in a hurry, trying to save his and Sherlock's asses, no time to think.
He was rather proud of how good he handled that instead.
"You discovered two of my secrets already," he said as they exited the pub.

He pulled him towards Oxford street, there were too many people around for the tugs to follow them.
He stopped for a second, pressing Jim against a shop window, mingling with a few couples.

"I like danger," he admitted, grinning up at him. "And I am horribly short of temper."

James was giggling at their behaviour. He reckon himself as a teenanger in John. Once outside he inhaled deep, cold air filling his longs.

As they were roaming Oxford street he noticed his hand was still entwined with John's, and he wasn't planning on letting go first.
"Oh, and what might those secrets be" he asked curious.

Another giggle released from his lips as he was pressed against the window. He locked eyes with the blonde soldier and changed his look from playful to serious as John confessed his secrets.

"Just how I love 'm" he replied before pressing his lips rather rough onto John's, not caring if he was gay or not willing to participate in these kinds of things.

John was quite the laid-back fellow, he did not like to take things too seriously, so he really didn't mind too much to ignore the fact he was not gay in favour of some soft warm lips that were eagerly pushing against his own.

It was all fine after all.

He cupped Jim's face and returned the rough kiss with equal passion, nipping on the younger man's lower lip, demanding more even though they had just started.
John was not patient, he was passion and instinct all over.