Things at home hadn't changed much between Sherlock and John. Sherlock was just the same as ever: leaving experiments in the kitchen, sulking when he was bored, playing violin at three in the morning and rushing off on cases like a child at Christmas. In fact the only thing remotely different was John. He couldn't look at Sherlock without feeling guilty about what he'd done. He could only thank God that Sherlock had no idea about John shagging Moriarty and he would never find out either.

John was so ashamed of what had happened in that alley. He wished he had some sort of excuse but he hadn't even been drunk. It had been his first pint of the night when he had clapped eyes on Moriarty. He was simply going to plead temporary insanity and a case of depression. He wanted to blame Sherlock, and on some level he did, even though he knew it was extremely unfair of him. But if Sherlock had simply wanted John the way John wanted Sherlock, they could have been home shagging each other and the thing with Moriarty never would have happened. Yet he knew it was his fault for expecting the detective to be in love with him. There'd been no evidence of it and John had kissed him anyway. Sherlock wasn't able to give anything else and John should have known that.

He now spent more time out of the flat when Sherlock was in it. He was removing himself from temptation and the pain of watching something he couldn't have. Instead he took to long walks around the park or getting more hours at the Surgery. It was the best he could do until his retched feeling for Sherlock went away. If only he could make himself stop feeling, the way Sherlock seemed to, everything would be much easier.

"Sherlock, I'm off to the laundrette." John called out, slipping on his jacket by the front door.

There was no answer and for a moment John wondered if Sherlock had heard him. He was about to go and see when Sherlock emerged from his room with a bag. He handed it to John, shoving it into his arms and then retreating to the couch. "That's all the things that need washing, thanks John." Sherlock said sprawling himself onto the couch.

John looked down at the bag in his hands and back at his flat-mate. Sometimes he really wondered how he had ever managed to develop feelings for the man that weren't extreme hatred. "Wash your own bloody clothes." John said dropping the bag to the floor in defiance.

"You're going anyways, there's no point in making two trips." Sherlock shrugged, grabbing his laptop and positioning it on his stomach, already having moved on from the conversation.

John sighed in resignation and snatched up the bag, getting his own while he was at it. Sherlock wouldn't do his own laundry anyway and it would just continue to fester and rot until John finally gave in and did it. The only clean things Sherlock seemed to have that weren't washed at the hands of John were his suits, which he had sent out to be dry-cleaned. One of these days John was going to come home to Sherlock wearing nothing but his bed sheet, having run out of clean things.

John was thankful for the mindless task of doing laundry. It gave him a reason to be out of the flat and was something he could do without focusing on it. He was separating the lights from the darks, trying not to think about the fact that he was mixing his clothes with Sherlock's and there was underwear from both of them in there. Why had he agreed to this? He must have been a glutton for punishment or something.

He couldn't stop thinking about Moriarty and how the hell that had happened. He had no idea who had kissed who first, it was mostly a sort of blur. For all he knew they had leaned in at the same time. He remembered going over to Moriarty to see why the criminal was there, make sure he wasn't doing something terrible that John would need to stop. But when he was sitting next to Jim at the bar in his regular clothes that made him look so different, John had been unable to speak a word. They'd stared at each other in silence for a long stretch of time until one or both of them broke it.

John knew that if he hadn't been in such a fragile state from Sherlock's rejection, it never would have happened. He never would have let things get that far. At least he told himself that to try and feel better about it. He couldn't believe it had actually happened. It wasn't like him at all.

"Seriously?" A voice said standing directly behind John, making him jump. Moriarty stepped to the side and stood next to him, surveying the pile of clothes in front of John. He slipped a finger in, prodding at them and lifting out a pair of red silk boxers that were definitely not John's. They were dangling from Jim's finger as he studied them. "He's got you washing his dirty underwear?"

"I was washing mine anyway." John snapped, snatching the underwear away and throwing them back into the pile.

Moriarty grinned, turning so his back was leaning against the table and staring at John. "There's a word for people like you, what is it?"

John ignored him, pursing his lips together and continuing sorting the clothes in front of him.

"Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue." Jim strained to remember, being over dramatic about it. He snapped his fingers as if it might help. "Whipped! That's it, you're whipped."

"Shut up." John said turning a bright red color. "I am not whipped."

Moriarty moved a bit closer, his lips achingly close to John's ear. "Would you like to be? I have one at home."

John swallowed and moved away. "What are you doing here Moriarty?"

"Call me Jim."

"Why are you here?"

"I think I'm ready for round two Doctor." Jim answered suggestively. He reached up and ran his fingers through John's hair, making him shiver but not in the way John wanted. He was supposed to be revolted, not excited. He grabbed Moriarty by the wrist and shoved his hand away.

"Knock it off." John said with his jaw clenched.

"Come on Johnny, now's not the time to play coy." Jim said, moving his body in between John and the table before wrapping his arms around John's neck.

"Don't call me Johnny." He spat back, trying to pull away from the man's grip but Jim just held on tighter.

"You didn't seem to mind when I was moaning it as your buggered my arse." Moriarty pointed out, smirking again. God I just want to kiss that expression off his face. No smack it off his face. No kissing the mad bomber John. Damn it!

John scrubbed his hand over his face, annoyed with himself. "Do you think you could keep your voice down?" He whispered harshly, trying again to remove Jim's thin arms from around his neck. Jim was dressed down again, in jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt that showed off a sliver of pale skin on his chest. John did his best not to stare at it.

"Why suddenly so shy Doctor? You didn't mind fucking me in a public place but now you're blushing at the mere mention of sex?" Jim asked, looking slightly baffled at John's behavior as if embarrassment was such a foreign concept.

"Look, can you just piss off? I'm not shagging you." John said with conviction. He was not going to make that mistake again. He ducked under Moriarty's arms and started gathering up the clothes. He didn't care if the nearest laundrette was fifteen blocks away, he was not going to stay here.

"Oh Johnny, Johnny, Johnny." Moriarty shook his head, grabbing John by the arm and hauling him into the corner where they were hidden from view by the line of the large dryers. John's back was up against the wall and Jim had him trapped in with their bodies pressed flush against each other's. "It's useless denying me because I always get what I want and right now, I want you. It's also incredibly stupid of you to deny yourself when we both know you want me too."
"I really don't." John stared back at Jim with determination. He was not going to cave on this. He wasn't.

"We both know you enjoyed yourself the other night, more than you thought possible." Jim leaned in and nipped at the fleshy part of John's ear, sucking at it. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about shoving me up against one of these dryers and fucking me roughly."

John didn't dignify that with a response, especially because if he hadn't thought about it before, he was certainly thinking about it now. Jim's fingers were in John's hair, stroking the back of his head in a way that was rather nice.

"Or you could fuck me right here, let the sound of the machines drown out our moans."

"I'm not doing it, no." John shook his head, already feeling like he'd lost but trying desperately to stop this before it got out of control, before he got out of control.

"Take what you want Doctor, I won't mind." Jim coaxed him seductively, pushing his thigh between John's legs and pressing it against the erection John hadn't wanted but was unable to stop. Jim grinned triumphantly, the smug bastard. "We both know what you want and I'm offering it to you. You crave me, there's no point in refuting it, like a vampire craves blood. Take it John, it's yours."
John felt as if he had been hypnotized. Without thinking about it, he crushed his lips against Jim's. Jim sucked John's tongue into his mouth, teasing it with his own and John moaned. He was achingly hard already, straining against his jeans, rutting his leg against Moriarty's thigh. Jim laughed, pulling away from the kiss. "Someone's eager."

"Fuck you." He bit back, feeling embarrassed by his actions and covering it with anger.

"That's the plan Johnny." Jim smiled and produced a small tube of lubricant from his pocket.

"Came prepared this time, did we?" John laughed, taking the tube from the mad genius. Before Jim could answer, they were kissing again; filthy, hot kisses as John worked open Moriarty's trousers only to find he wasn't wearing underwear. Prepared indeed.

He stroked Jim languidly, taking his time and enjoying Jim's hot, thick cock in his hand. He hadn't had the time to enjoy it the first time. Jim shoved him away slightly. "No time for foreplay Doctor, remember where we are."

"Christ." John swore under his breath, finally realizing they were in a very public building surrounded by people, not a lot of people but enough.

"Hurry up." Jim snapped, wrenching John jeans open and shoving his underwear away. He snatched the lube away and squeezed some into his hand. John looked around to see if anyone was going to disturb them but it looked like everyone was going about their business, none the wiser of what was happening in the corner.

He was pulled back to the current proceedings when Jim's hands were applying the gel to his cock. It was cold and John hissed but recovered quickly as Jim stroked him. John bit back a moan and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, turning him to face the dryers. He pulled Jim's jeans down enough to reveal his ass.

He trailed two fingers down his cock, coating them in the lube. Then he slowly began inserting them into Jim. "No time for that." Moriarty whispered harshly. "I want your cock now!"

"Hush." John replied, crooking his finger and brushing it against Jim's prostate, making him groan.

"You weren't so delicate with me last time." Moriarty hissed over his shoulder.

"Well, that was last time. Don't worry, we'll get to the good stuff soon." John said, caressing that gland inside Jim slowly, remembering how Moriarty had teased him in the alley with his tongue.

Moriarty let out a frustrated huff of breath but didn't say anything more. John continued to play with his prostate until Jim was whimpering, grinding his hips back, trying to get more. It was something to see, watching Moriarty try to impale himself on John's fingers.

"Come on, come on." Jim cried out impatiently.

"If you don't be quiet, I'm just going to have you suck me off and then leave." John threatened, covering Jim's mouth with his free hand while his other fingers continued to work Moriarty open. "Now, are you going to behave?"

Moriarty narrowed his eyes at John but nodded his head slightly.

"Good, now, we are going to do this my way and I am going to finger fuck you as long as I please. You'll get my cock when I decide, not before, understand?"

Another nod as John began scissoring his fingers. Jim moaned, the sound muffled by John's hand and then the consulting Criminal bit down hard, his sharp teeth breaking the skin on John's hand. "Fuck!" John shouted in pain. He went to pull his hand away but Moriarty grabbed his wrist, keeping him still as Jim licked away the small trail of blood.

"Two can play that game Doctor." Jim's eyes flashed with malice.

"You sick fuck." John shook his head, pulling his hand away just after Jim pressed his lips to the bite mark.

"Come on Johnny, my patience is wearing thin." Jim replied, wiggling his ass a bit.

"Fine." John said starting to remove his fingers. He pulled them almost all the way out and then shoved them roughly back in, making Jim buck in surprise. He slipped his fingers out for real, lined himself up and buried himself in with one sharp thrust. Moriarty arched his back and let out a low, guttural moan.

He gripped Moriarty's hips and began slamming into him roughly, doing what they both wanted. He sucked at the back of Jim's neck to stifle his moans but there was little he could do about Moriarty. He wasn't going to put his hand over his mouth again and risk another bite.

He snapped his hips back and forth as quickly as possible, the sound of skin slapping against skin seemed so loud in John's ears. Still it was nothing compared to Jim who apparently had no qualms about being as loud as possible. He was panting and gasping and moaning and when he wasn't doing that he was talking.

"Yes, Johnny, yes. Just like that. Fuck me hard. Take it. Take what's yours. Yes, yes, yes." Jim groaned out and John bit down on his neck trying to get him to shut up. It wasn't that he minded what Jim was saying, in fact everything tiny sound and every word went right to his cock. The problem was he didn't want to be discovered and then arrested for public indecency.

Christ Jim was tight and it felt so much better this time, John slipping in and out easily, ramming into him over and over. He was holding Jim's hips hard enough to leave bruises but he couldn't bring himself to care. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to enjoy this so much. It was wrong, so wrong and filthy and John was loving it.

Jim's jeans had fallen down around his ankles from John's thrusting into him so hard. John was getting an amazing rush from the idea that any moment someone might see them, John still almost fully clothed while Jim was half-naked in front of them. It was stupid; one of the dumbest things John had ever done so why was he getting off on it? Why was the thrill of it making him harder than he ever remembered being in his life?

John reached up and put his hand down the V in Jim's t-shirt, pinching his nipple. Jim bucked against him and John loved how sensitive the criminal mastermind was there. Jim was meeting his thrusts, grinding his hips back in time to John pounding in. John was close, that familiar feeling coiling low in his belly. He moved his lips to a new spot, closer to Jim's jawline and sucked, ready to muffle his cry when he came.

"Come on Johnny, come inside me. Fucking fill me with your hot come. I want it. Fucking do it. COME!" Jim hollered and John felt his body spasm as his orgasm overtook him. He emptied himself out into Jim and then reached around, grabbing Jim's cock and with a few pulls he brought Moriarty to completion, his come shooting all over the side of the dryer.

"Christ Jim." John said resting his chin on Jim's shoulder, staring at the ejaculate running down the machine.

John stepped away, slipping his cock out and reached down to pull up his pants and trousers, tucking himself back in. Now that the heat of the moment was over, he felt decidedly ashamed and angry at himself for letting this happen again. Jim turned around and pulled his jeans up, his dark eyes vacant. John supposed it was better than the cold harshness they usually had. He wiped his brow where sweat had collected and turned to go back to his clothes. Jim's hand shot out and pulled him back.

"What, no kiss goodbye this time?" Jim asked, licking his lips as if in anticipation of lips pressed to his.

"Fuck you." John snapped, trying to pull away.

"Just did that Johnny but if you want to go again, I'll probably be up for it in a few minutes." Jim replied with a wink.

"Fuck. Off." John said, shaking with rage. He couldn't believe it had happened again. What did Moriarty want from him anyway?

"Not without a kiss."

"Quit being a prick." John said trying to tug his hand away from Jim's grip. Jim used his momentum against him and pushed him up against the wall, practically wrapping himself around John. One hand was pushed up into his hair, the other stroking behind his ear. Jim had one leg wrapped around John so their bodies were pressed against each other, their noses touching.

"Well Doctor…?"

John sighed heavily and turned his head to give Moriarty a quick kiss. It was chaste, nothing more than a peck but it was all John was willing to give. He unwrapped himself from Moriarty's limbs and tried to leave again. Jim reached out and curled his fingers around John's throat, shoving him back.

"I think we can do better than that." Moriarty said slipping his tongue into John's mouth. Their tongues tangled together as John melted into the kiss. He ran his fingers through Jim's hair, tugging him closer even though they were as close as physically possible.

They twisted their faces, changing the angle of the kiss, shoving their tongues back and forth into each other's mouth's. One would suck, then the other, harder as they swapped spit. John finally had to break away to catch his breath and Jim smirked at him.

"Till next time, Johnny boy." Jim said giving his nose a quick nip.

"What, there's no next time." John called after him.

"We'll see." Was all Jim replied in a singsong way before he was gone. John groaned, knocking his head against the wall. This was not going to happen again. It shouldn't have even happened this time or the time before. He needed to get some control over himself. This was getting dangerous and reckless and stupid. No, this was definitely the end of it. He refused to be sucked in by James Moriarty again.