A/N: Hey so it's been a while hasn't it? You know adult life sucks and can kill a creative mojo within a couple of days. Safe to say I've been struggling a hell of a lot. So have some tame-ish MorMor and I might do a naughty second chapter if I can get my voodoo back. Deal?

Jim always did like his Sebastian when he was back from a kill.

The man had a jubilant aura that made him so attractive. But nowadays Jim would have to preen under his sniper's nose in order to get his attention; post kill Seb was a self-absorbed Seb, who liked to relive every moment of the kill, particularly if it was close range.

But it hadn't always been that way. When James Moriarty first hired Sebastian Moran to be his personal hitman, the pair had been readily wary of one another – both seemed powerful but in two entirely different ways. There was a mutual respect though for one another's talents and the first couple of kills had seen Seb sloping off home, choosing to debrief Jim in the morning. But after an almost capture of the sniper, Jim had ordered Seb to appear at his flat or residence of the evening (arranged via text) as soon as he could.

This often meant that Seb had come back covered in blood, at which point Jim had shrieked about his silk carpets and sheets that the disgraced colonel was currently dripping blood all over. Before the rough and ready, it was purely business between the two of them. So when Jim squealed about his expensive Persian carpets that were being stained with red, Seb had listened and padded off to the marbled bathroom without a word.

Then there was a day that Seb ignored Jim's incessant whining and flopped down on the cream sofa.

He'd laughed when Jim drew a gun on him. He'd turned to face the silent sulking man by kneeling on the sofa, smearing more blood across the upholstery. He'd pushed the gun out of the way, snatched at the smaller man's tie and pressed his lips to his boss's in a searing kiss. Seb took the glock from a limp hand and tossed it to the floor while his own hand kept his partner within his embrace, despite the back of the sofa being between them. When they parted for air, Seb just grinned wolfishly, sat back on the sofa while Jim stood there, utterly speechless (for the only time in his career criminal life), his lips swollen and tingling.

He remained silent when Jim picked the remote up from the glass coffee table and flicked it onto the BabeStation. A deliberate affront. Jim found lesbian porn distasteful at best, so watching botoxed women smiling "seductively" at a camera while they rang various depraved strangers was not tactful. Seb undid his jeans and lazily pushed a hand down the fabric but did no more, acutely aware of the man behind him.

Jim never played by his instincts, so with a deliberate sniff he turned away from his sniper and walked back to his bedroom. Jim was ignoring the tent in his incredibly expensive trousers.

But after that it changed. Whenever Seb came back with blood covering him there was the usual screaming routine and Seb would silence him with a passionate kiss until Jim was clutching at the bloodied killer, his muscles unable to support him.

Finally one night it progressed when Seb had been gone for five days on a longer hunt and after the first two Jim had grown bored of waiting in his suit with the house immaculate. Seb let himself in, in his usual state of disarray only Jim was in silk pyjamas, reading with his glasses perched on his nose. He looked up at his sniper and raised one eyebrow. Seb had a hungry look on his face.

The sniper pounced and the book was launched across the room. The kiss was bruising and harsh.

That started the change in their relationship. It was no longer purely business and Jim was thoroughly surprised at how much he enjoyed the sniper's attentions and affections.

Though his affections were rough and ready most of the time; Jim's business was only expanding and Seb only had more jobs to do so Jim was left with a pile of books on various subjects whilst he pined for Seb to come home.

It had scared the career criminal at just how much he relied on his sniper at first but pushing away the colonel hadn't worked either. It just made Jim mad and well, he didn't mean to put a bomb on a London Bridge. Thank God Seb had stopped him. He almost ruined his master plan but he was sure that Mycroft Holmes had caught wind of him too early. That might put a spanner in the works.

After that incident, Seb had punished him for his stupidity and then cuddled the hell out of his "little kitten".

That's how he had taken to preening under the bigger man's nose and it was the reason that he was on his sniper's lap almost purring like a cat. The fact he was entirely naked was neither here nor there. The pair sat in the spacious shower cubicle, Jim stroked the man's cheek, fingers tracing a faint scar hidden beneath the stubble of his beard and he grinned up at the man who looked shattered, his eyes were closing as he leant back against the cold tile and Jim cocked his head. With the escalation of his plans maybe he'd been sending out his sniper a little too often and maybe Sebby needed a rest.

Jim had the most adorable little chateau in France, he'd send his sniper there for some R&R... And well Jim deserved a break just as much! Perfect, he'd put the wheels into motion with Thwaites a little later, first he'd get his Sebby dried off and in bed. His tiger needed to be looked after.