AN: Cleaned up fill at the kink meme requesting Jim's final thoughts. Title taken from the song 'Night Fever".
The moment crystallized, sharpened as if Jim lived the past few years out of focus and Sherlock Holmes nudged his world right again with one of of his clever fingers.
This was it, nothing would be more sublime then beating Sherlock. Oh, it felt like the first rail of cocaine, the first jigger of vodka, the initial swell of music when it was all discovery and sweetness and where-have-you-been-all-my-life perfection.
And it would end. Highs faded, songs ended and everything once again slid into boring boring monotony and his thoughts drew blood scrabbling over one another, confined in a too tight space.
He'd though of ending it before, the tedium of existence but no time felt right, never felt like a gesture more grand it was. A whimper in the night heard by no one.
Jim held out his hand. This felt right, the ornate period at the end of his and Sherlock's tale. The last move of the great game.
Sherlock's grip on his held Jim steady as he jammed the final solution on his tongue.