Futile

Jim threw his full weight against Sebastian, screaming as loud as he possibly could. Sebastian slammed his hand over his mouth, which didn't do much more than muffle the sound. They both knew the neighbors would complain - Seb made a mental note to start looking for a new flat as soon as he can. Jim had gotten them thrown out of almost every single apartment complex in Central London.

"James fucking Moriarty!" he growled, dragging the man into their flat. "You're acting like a fucking toddler, stop it."

Jim simply bit him. The sniper jerked his hand backwards, slapping Jim upside the head, growling. "Don't."

"Don't what, Sebby?" Jim's tone was higher than normal, mocking him. After all he'd put Seb through, he dared mock him?

"James Moriarty." he dropped to his knees in front of the younger man, placing a firm hand on his shoulders. "Cut it out."

Jim's eyes darted up to him, then back down, debating the best course of action. Sebastian already knew how this was going to go - every few months Jim would start acting like this. Seb wasn't sure why it happened, but he knew that it was the only time he was ever allowed to be this dominant over Jim.

"James Moriarty." he warned, crossing his arms, quite frustrated with the man. Jim glared at him, sprinting past him into their room - Jim's room, technically, but Seb didn't stay anywhere else. When Jim was angry, Seb slept on the couch. The only time Seb's bed was used was when Jim was too tired to change the sheets. Sebastian's cheeks flushed red, remembering the last encounter in which that had resulted.

"Jim." he shook his head, walking into the kitchen for a shot of vodka, before resigning himself to deal with Jim. "Jaaa-mes." he hummed, walking towards the bedroom. 'Somebody's in trouble."

Silence. He opened the door, to find a pouting James Moriarty perched lightly on the bed. "James, you aren't being very nice, you know. You need to stop."

"Fuck you."

"James."

"Fuck. you."

"Watch your language, honey."

"Fuck you."

"One."

"Fuck - what?"

"Two.."

"Fuck you." Jim's curiosity gave way to is stubborn persistence.

"Three. That's it. No more Glee for a month."
"No!" the smaller man yelped, glaring at Seb.

"And your phone. A week. Going to behave now, sweetheart?"

Silence. Good. Very good.

"You're still in trouble, Jimmy." Seb frowned down at him, crossing his arms, looking down at him, seemingly disappointed. "You've not been very good."

"But you like it best that way."

"James!" he growled, cuffing the man gently on the back of the head. "I will whip you again."

"No you won't." Not so confident, this time.

Seb sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Jim, just looking at him, running his tongue over his teeth. They both knew what came next.

"Jim." Sebastian's tone was the firmest it would get - Jim hadn't done anything truly wrong, not like almost shooting himself on the roof of a hospital - but it did the trick. Jim climbed into his lap, pressing his head against Seb's chest, still tense, pouting still, Sebastian guessed.

"You can't sass England's top smuggler, James Moriarty! You're making yourself enemies faster than you ever have before, not to mention the clean up it leaves me and the rest of your employees! You're constantly acting like a - a - Sherlock Holmes, and I am sick of it. Not eating, going into dank moods, enough, Jim. Doctor Watson doesn't put up with it and I sure as hell aren't going to either."

"Oh."

"Oh? James.."

He sighed, slumping visibly. Seb was lucky, he supposed, that Jim calmed so easily, that he listened. At least he didn't have to beat it out of him - but sometimes he almost couldn't fight the desire to. Jim could.. To put it simply, if he'd been sane - he'd have been out from day one. Hell. He'd never have gotten into this in the first place.

And how much he would have missed.

"I'm sorry, Sebby, I don't mean to be a bother, you know." Sebastian had half a feeling that Jim didn't know what he was saying, but he didn't let it concern him. Jim was incredibly vulnerable right now, and he wasn't going to point anything out to make him go back into his shell. Ha. Shell. It was more like.. a castle. A firm castle, with a huge moat. "I.. just.. get so caught up, in my own mind. Sometimes it scares me. Sometimes I just want to be alone. And then I am, and you either don't know or have just left me there, which is so much worse, so much worse. And I'm scared and it hurts and I don't know what to do, so when you come back.. I.. I.. I don't know how to act, Seb, I don't know!"

That was new. That was very very new. Jim hadn't ever - Seb pressed his hand to Jim's forehead, concerned, but he felt normal. Jim hadn't ever opened up like this before.

"You could just tell me, you know."

"I don't know how."

And it was gone. Whatever might've been had slipped away, because Jim's tone was flat now, and Seb didn't know why. Had he done something, or not done something?

Wouldn't know.

Would never know.

Could never know.

Not with Jim, anyway.