a/n: the following involves some talk of blood play, light s&m, a rather crude description of an ungooglable (and macabre) process, and a whole lot of rude references. This is my first attempt at this pairing, although I do hope you like it without regard for my lack of experience.
Chains were probably the first thing I expected when I entered Jim Moriarty's life. Now that I say that, I'm not sure I ever really did. But fuck it, he's dead. I'll say what I want.
Most nights he'd like to chain me down and 'make new scars'. He likes to cut; I like to bite. I suppose that says most all anyone needs to know about either of us. Though I didn't bother analyzing it at the time. I was too busy coming.
Some nights, my favourite ones, he wouldn't fight when I'd hold him against the wall. I wasn't quite so violent a lover as he was. Then again, I can hardly imagine many people are or were. He could ride your cock and call you a bleeding pointless sack of flesh. What he called me was probably cleverer and crueler than that, but I was balls deep inside of him and, frankly, not listening at-fucking-all.
But, you know, he could be a bit kind. It was rare. Really fucking rare, actually. His vampiric tendencies never seemed to relent, but he'd draw the blade slow across a fresh wound. He would even clean me up, with a certain amount of care. Then he'd take to laying back and humming. I'd hold him. I don't know if he liked that, but those nights he never did stop me. Maybe I'm a sappy bastard, I don't know, but I'm going to go with the 'he was warm' defense, your honour.
Usually this uncharacteristic kindness would happen when I'd been off a while. Not after weeks; only the time I had an especially long stint somewhere quite far away. I'd like to think he'd missed me, but I have no idea what the fuck was going on inside of his head before he blew his brains out. And even now, I've only got a pretty shit guess.
So, he was literally on fire. I watched. I just stood there, staring into the fire as his face flopped off and melted into the ground. I don't know much about the technical processes that were happening, but it was incredible to see. It was unbelievably strange. The final reassurance that Jim Moriarty was never really human. He would have loved it