I have hi-jacked the characters of Holmes and Moriarty for the purposes of smut. I do not own them – if I did, I would be having too much fun with them to be writing this (or probably dead – you know Moriarty.) I hope you enjoy it. If you would like to read more, please let me know. Cheers. LWC.

He sat there - ice blue eyes, high cheekbones, dark curls framing an unreadable pale face -the beauty of his full, sensual mouth only surpassed by the beauty of his highly intelligent eyes.

He sat alone in a café – a small, old-fashioned hole in Hammersmith. It was one of the few remaining cafes run by an Italian family. It had been in business for decades – rarely decorated – rarely needed it. The chipped paint, wobbly tables and rickety chairs added to its charm. The smell of toast and coffee lingered in the air.

Sherlock sat at the back of the café, facing towards the door. It was an autumn afternoon –dark, cloudy with leaves blowing about in the wind. He just looked ahead and barely touched his tea, His black overcoat was turned up at his cheekbones and he stared at the door - waiting.

The door opened and an old fashioned door bell rang as a man entered. Medium height, dark hair and eyes and the look of someone who knew every secret the world had ever produced. He was scruffily dressed with a baseball hat pulled down over his eyes.

He strolled over casually to Sherlock's table and stood there.

Sherlock slowly raised his eyes to Moriarty -his face betraying no emotion.

"What? No chocolates," Moriarty asked coldly. "Not even a red carnation in that superhero coat for me?"

Sherlock picked up his tea and took a sip.

"You are Jeff the pilot?" Moriarty said in a fake American accent. Sherlock didn't flinch. "The dating ageny told me you'd be here." Sherlock kept staring.

"No..no…don't tell me…I can tell. Humourless, boring and dull…..hmm….the choices are endless….just endless."

Sherlock took another sip of his tea and never took his eyes of Moriarty.

"Well, if you're not going to play, my dear. I'll have to amuse myself with someone else," he said with ice.

"Sit down," Sherlock said quietly.

Moriarty smiled. He took off his cap and placed in gently on the table.

"You're excited, aren't you?" Moriarty said. "No one else could tell. The stern exterior of a near machine…but not me-ey," he said, his voice rising into a sing song. "I can tell you're ex..ci…ted."

"Where is he?" Sherlock asked.

Moriarty leaned back and grinned. "No…no…no," he said, wagging a finger. "That's not how we play. You know the rules..."

Moriarty reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of travel chess.

"You win the game, your pet lives another day."

Sherlock placed his hands on the chess set. "Shall I? he asked, suggesting to set up the board.

Moriarty placed his hand on top of Sherlock's. "I would be so grateful". Sherlock lowered his eyes for a moment towards their hands but then moved the box and his hand away and began to set up the game.

"You know, your pet, I can tell misses you," Moriarty said flatly, watching Sherlock setting up the pieces, his eyes lowered. "He begged me this morning, and I mean begged me so very hard, to let him come here."

Sherlock didn't respond to this; he continued placing the small, plastic pieces onto the battered chess set.

"I've almost got him fully housetrained and…you know these army types – happiest obeying orders… I…"

"How long is the going to go on for?" Sherlock interrupted briskly. Moriarty smiled wickedly, sensing Sherlock's rising anger.

"As long as daddy wants, my dear," Moriarty replied.

The chess pieces were set in place and Sherlock leaned back in his rickety chair.

"How do I know he's still alive?"

Moriarty tutted. "Sherlock, I am disappointed."

"Picture." Sherlock demanded, putting out his hand.

Moriarty put on a hurt face and then showed Sherlock a picture on his camera. Sherlock looked at the image and internally grimaced. It was a John, handcuffed naked to a bed, blindfolded with Moriarty holding a copy of today's The Times newspaper.

"I have other…more….interesting pictures, if you'd like to see them," Moriarty taunted.

Sherlock coldly picked up a chess piece and made his first move and looked Moriarty coldly in the eyes.

"Your move," he said. Moriarty grinned.

"Always," he whispered and took his turn quickly.

"So, Sherlock. What are you willing to do for the safe return of your pet?" Moriarty asked.

"I'm sure you have some suggestions" Sherlock blankly whispered and took his move, barely looking at the chess board.

Moriarty took his move with equal speed.

"Well, my dear, I can't help but feel that chess is becoming sooo boring," Moriarty yawned.

"Yes, seven games. Seven identical games in seven days."

"Yes," Moriarty said.

"And each game, I win" Sherlock said. "Why?"

"Why not? Would you prefer Buckaroo?"

Sherlock took the next predictable move, followed by Moriarty.

"What is this about, Moriarty?" Sherlock asked. "You have no need with John."

Moriarty smirked. "Oh but I do….I do, my dear. Daddy has a need. YOU care for him….YOU want him back. You and me…we are the same…but…you care. I don't.""

Sherlock said nothing in reply but watched Moriarty.

"Well, my dear Sherlock. I would like to know what you would do to keep him alive. How far you are prepared to go? Are you prepared to humiliate yourself? Submit yourself to me?"

"I assume you are referring to sexual, intellectual and psychological submission. But if I do…then what? What would be the next demand?" Sherlock looked at Moriarty coldly.

"That's the fun of this. I know all the answers but can you guess, Sherlock. Can you?"

Sherlock leaned back and rested his chin on his fingers.

"As long as you have John and I care…"

"I can make you do anything I want."

"And if I stopped caring," Sherlock started…..

"You become me." Moriarty whispered over him.

"Never, "Sherlock said.

Moriarty smiked. "Sherlock…are we having a lover's tiff?"

Sherlock took another move and inhaled deeply.

"WHAT do you want Moriarty?"

Moriarty smiled, leaned back and looked over at a waitress. He signalled her to come over and then quietly ordered a coffee, winking at her as she nervously hurried away.

Sherlock took his move. "Check mate…..again."

"Oh my," Moriarty said. "How on earth did that happen?"

"Get on with it," Sherlock said impatiently.

"Oh, so eager to get started," Moriarty winked at Sherlock. The waitress returned with a coffee and before she could leave Moriarty turned to speak to her.

"Hello…." He said gesturing for her to say her name. She replied with Anita.

"Hello, Anita, " Moriarty said. "I'm Jim and this is Sherlock."

Anita, a twenty-something waitress didn't really know what to say and looked a bit flustered.

"Anita, I'd like you the first to know that we just got engaged," Moriarty said, turning to Sherlock and putting on puppy dog eyes. Sherlock smiled quickly at Anita and looked back coldly at Moriarty.

Anita nervously congratulated them and tried to go.

"The trouble is Anita. My fiancé is so shy about being with me." Moriarty said with sadness. "When I become sad, I become well…unpredictable, Anita."

"Stop it, Moriarty," Sherlock said with a rising voice.

"Well, honey, show me the love, "he said. "Before I get bored." Moriarty gave a killer cold look towards Anita. "Before I get really, really bored."

Sherlock stood up from his chair and slowly walked around to the side of the table where Moriarty was sitting. Sherlock turned to Anita. "Would you be kind enough, Anita, to bring me another cup of tea? Thank you."

Anita walked at great speed towards the counter.

"Threatening waitresses? Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Sherlock mocked.

Moriarty smiled slowly and lasciviously at Sherlock.

"Show me the love, honey," Moriarty said. 'Or…bye bye.."

"Sit down,," Moriarty said. When Sherlock turned to go back to seat he was stopped in his tracks.

"On me, " Moriarty said. Sherlock turned back to him. Moriarty pushed his chair further back and opened his legs. "Straddle me."

"What?" Sherlock asked with contempt.

"Oh, come on, baby. Don't be such a cock tease." Moriarty said. "Sit…NOW."

Sherlock stared at Moriarty and he smirked. Slowly, he walked closer to Moriarty and threw a leg over Moriarty's and stood above him. He lowered himself slowly onto his lap with his hands in his long coat.

"Good boy," Moriarty said. "Very good."

"Now, you're going to kiss me," he said.

Sherlock looked over to the counter and saw Anita looking on with a mixture of surprise and fear at them. Sherlock looked back down at Moriarty. His groin was resting on Moriarty's and he could feel his arousal.

"Yes, you're going to kiss me and you are and you're going to have to convince me that you mean it or…..bye bye sweet little Johnny boy."

Sherlock looked into the eyes of Jim Moriarty beneath him. He took his face in his hands and leaned closer towards him. Their lips were almost touching.

"You need this, Moriarty. This is where you fail," Sherlock said bringing his mouth closer. Moriarty leaned back.

"How poetic, my dearest Sherlock", he said and rested his hands on Sherlock's hips. "When I'm fucking you hard and you're screaming my name, I'll remind you of my failure."

Sherlock also slowly leaned back and then moved forward and kissed Moriarty on the neck, soflty – just the once. Moriarty closed his eyes. "More," he said. "Harder." Sherlock paused for a moment before he kissed his earlobe and whispered: "This is a one way journey, Moriarty. I'm not here for you."

Moriarty moaned at the feeling at Sherlock at his ear. He reached down to Sherlock's groin and wasn't surprised. "Oh my dear, my dear, how you lie to yourself," he smiled. "YOU are so hard, so very, very hard for Daddy."

"I'm NOT thinking about you," Sherlock whispered in his ear.

Moriarty giggled in a high voice. "Oh, how you lie to yourself. It's simply, simply the biggest turn on"

Sherlock brought his face closer to Moriarty's. "Is this really all you have to offer me? Sexual threats? Is this the best you can do? Screw me or I'll kill your friend? "

Moriarty looked into Sherlock's eyes. "Oh, my dear. We both know you know where John is being held, don't we? I even made it easy for a rescue…but…"

Sherlock brought his lips to Moriarty's and they kissed aggressively. Moriarty gripped Sherlock's hair and pulled him violently towards him. They parted, both breathing heavily – looking at one another.

"Was that convincing enough for you?" Sherlock asked, his mouth centimetres from Moriarty's.

"No," Moriarty replied. "You're going to have to convince me a hell of a lot better than that," he replied.

Sherlock sat back. Moriarty rested a hand behind his head and looked at Sherlock.

"I'm afraid your very, very hard cock is going to have to do the talking now, seeing as your mouth can't stop lying." Moriarty said. "Don't even bother telling me your hard, aching, cock isn't for me either."

Sherlock merely slowly shook his head.

Moriarty giggled again. "You're just turning me on more and more. Anita!" Moriarty shouted. Anita came running over, looking scared.

"Anita, dearest Anita," he said to her. "We're going upstairs to your bedroom. Give me the key."

Anita, who didn't know how he knew she lived there and was actually too scared to ask, handed it over.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, Sherlock – you have no idea the levels of pain and pleasure I'm going to show you." Moriarty whispered. "Come closer."

Sherlock looked at Moriarty with steely eyes.

"Oh, that act may work for ordinary, dull , boring people but not for me. You're a big, ole liar."

"I don't know where John is."


"I am doing this to keep my friend alive."


The two men stared at each other. Moriarty smiled wickedly.

"If you are able to actually stand up, my dear, it's time we took this debate a little further."

Sherlock slowly raised himself off Moriarty, who saw Sherlock's swollen cock bulge in his trousers. Moriarty giggled. "Oh my," he whispered, raising his eyes mischievously from Sherlock's trousers to his eyes. Sherlock pulled his coat around him and waited as Moriarty got to his feet. Moriarty did nothing to disguise his desire at all. He leaned forward towards Sherlock, opened his coat and placed his hand on Sherlock's cock. It was fully hard. Sherlock released an involuntary short gasp as Moriarty began to stroke him.

"Your body betrays you, my dear," Moriarty whispered.

Sherlock placed his hands on either side of Moriarty's face and pulled him closer. He kissed him softly and whispered into his face. "As previously stated– I am not thinking about you."

Moriarty smiled and said sternly. "Shall we, my dear?" He asked, gesturing for the two of them to go upstairs.

"Of course. Would you mind if I do, in fact, have that cup of tea Anita has charmingly made for me?" Sherlock said. "I do so find that sexual blackmail leaves one rather parched, don't you?"

Moriarty thought about it. "No. Can't say that it does. But then, I'm the one always doing the blackmailing." Sherlock conceded the point with a brief nod.

Moriarty squeezed Sherlock's cock and moaned slightly at the feeling of it in his hand. He then walked away from Sherlock and without looking behind him said wickedly: "Bring your tea, my dear. Daddy wants to play."

Sherlock straightened his coat, picked up the tea from the counter, thanked Anita – tipped her - and slowly followed Moriarty upstairs.

End of Chapter One.