A/N: Hey everyone! My first attempt at a fanic, Sheriarty is my Sherlock OTP and I think they need more recognition! I hope you enjoy this short story, and please do review if you have the time. Constrcutive critisim is welcome :) I also apologise in advance for anything which appears extremely out of character. Thanks! x

Into the Deep End

They met at the pool once more. It had become a place of symbolism for them; it represented the first time they met, the first time Moriarty educed Sherlock into a fear which the latter had previously no concept of.

Sherlock Holmes had never known anyone to set him so on edge, not even his brother, but Moriarty…he was like no one the consulting detective had ever encountered before and although Sherlock had vowed not to feel, to be void of emotion, Moriarty had a certain way of getting under his skin, making him feel uncomfortable.

They just stood staring at each other for a few minutes. Moriarty was clad in his usual designer attire, making him just that little bit more desirable and powerful. He wore that smirk on his face, the one were the corner of his lip curled up in a way which was both dangerous and endearing to Sherlock. The slender man knew that Moriarty was the most despicable and truly psychopathic man he had ever met, but that was part of what caught Sherlock in Moriarty's twisted spell, and he was starting to perhaps realise just how easy it was to become caught up in the evil man's web.

Sherlock had been attracted to danger all his life; it was the drug available to him in legal proportions, and Moriarty was the epitome of danger; he positively oozed it.

Sherlock felt his hands begin to tremble deep in his pockets when Moriarty strode forward, his smirk enlarging into a full blown grin, but there was still the obvious undertone of malice and manipulation there.

"You actually called this time" Moriarty said in his think accent which added to his appeal. His voice was so low, almost musical, that it brought great pleasure to Sherlock's ears. "I must have finally broken you" he said, highly contented with himself.

Sherlock's jawline tightened; he would show no weakness, but the consulting criminal before him either wanted to make him run, or be caught tightly in his arms.

"You didn't have to come" Sherlock reminded him lowly, but his power play was weak as Moriarty simply giggled at him.

"You didn't have to call" the criminal retorted as he bit his bottom lip. "Can't stop thinking about me, huh?" he asked with a constructed tone of innocence, tilting his head ever so slightly.

Sherlock gulped. "John cannot find out about this, no one can" There was no denial of Moriarty's previous statement, but his words definitely appeared shaken.

"No, of course not" Moriarty said looking down at his feet in a bored fashion "Wouldn't want to upset your precious little pet, now would we?"

Sherlock was unaware of just how close they were standing until he realised it was Moriarty's breath he could feel against his neck, their lips just inches apart, and although Sherlock was taller, it was the criminal who gazed up into his eyes with fire and control.

"So, are you going to follow my lead, or do I have to threaten you?" Moriarty asked with his eyebrow perfectly raised. Sherlock's lips quivered for a moment, but he couldn't find the will to speak.

Moriarty made him feel like he was choking, constricted to choosing between his allegiance to John and Scotland Yard, or his undisclosed desire to experience Moriarty in a way he never had before, because the truth was, the criminal had broken Sherlock. Before meeting Jim, the consulting detective had never felt such urges before, such attraction. He knew he was most likely being lead into a trap, but really Sherlock found he didn't mind.

"That won't be necessary" Sherlock finally replied.

Moriarty went back to his original intimidating smirk "Good."

And the next thing Sherlock knew, he was being drawn forward, Moriarty gripping the slender man's curls on the back of his head tightly just to make sure he wouldn't escape. He needn't bother; Sherlock was going nowhere. Their lips met, Moriarty leading the taboo dance. Sherlock could feel his body succumbing, any guard he had leaving him, and he relaxed into the self-proclaimed forbidden action.

Moriarty started to get rougher, more demanding, as he placed his free hand on Sherlock's shoulder, digging his nails in and piercing the man's skin. Sherlock pulled back a little, a moan of pain briefly escaping his lips.

"We both know that was a sound of pleasure" Moriarty said breaking their contact for a moment himself, before going back with full force.

Eventually, Moriarty moved his hand on to Sherlock's chest and started pushing him slowly towards the ground. Sherlock let himself go without protest. The consulting detective ended up lying on the ground, his back pressed firmly against the cold tiles, whilst Moriarty knelt over him, slowly moving the soft yet electrifying touch of his lips all the way down Sherlock's chin, before nibbling at the other man's neck a little.

Sherlock let out a sigh of relief, relief that not even a dozen nicotine patches could bring him. He was being consumed by the man above him, devoured by Jim's powerful yet playful lips. He was acting so unlike himself and yet Sherlock found he felt more content than ever. And that scared him. He'd always been in control of his own actions, but not anymore.

"John Watson may be your pet, but you are mine" Moriarty whispered in the deafening silence "And don't you ever forget that"

And for the first time since seeing Moriarty again, Sherlock wondered if he had made the right choice. However, it was too late now, as the consulting criminal had already started to make his descent, and Sherlock was his captive forever more.