When John got home Sherlock was in the same place as when he'd left. Stretched out on the sofa with his hands on his stomach, his eyes zooming around under his closed eyelids. Someone might mistake him as being asleep, but John knew that his brain was busily picking apart something. John didn't bother announcing his arrival because either way Sherlock wouldn't acknowledge him. Not when he was in one of his moods. He stood there in the doorway for a few minutes, looking at the man he was willing to do anything for. John felt viciously protective over the lean dark headed man who stayed up for days, hardly talking, hardly eating, plucking vacantly at his violin or playing a skillful concierto. John wondered what would happen if he told Sherlock of his little meeting with Moriarty. John suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of being watched. He knew somewhere 221B was being displayed on a screen, his and Sherlocks every move monitored. He felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed, like a specimen under a microscope. If he were to tell Sherlock, anything could happen. John was completely out of control of the situation. He suddenly felt tired, just the simple task of standing up seeming almost impossible. He went straight to his room and without brushing his teeth, without taking off his shoes, he went to bed.

Someone was moving around in the flat. John kept his eyes closed and rolled over in bed. The previous days events suddenly flooded his mind and he sat up with a gasp. John threw the blanket off of himself and rushed through the flat to Sherlocks room. Sherlock was more animated than he had been in days. He was zooming around the room, throwing things into a black traveling case. He was already dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a white button-up, his hair it's usual disheveled self. Sherlock noticed John in the doorway but continued to pull shirts from their hangers in his closet. "I have to be off within the next twenty minutes." He said, shoving the garments into the black case.

"What for?" John said, his heart sinking at the sight of how well Moriarty's plan was working.

"Just got a call from Germany. Serial murderer, already killed eleven, promised to kill one person every 12 hours if not caught, left behind a trail of riddles, just the thing I've been needing to rescue me from the petty crimes that have been flooding your blog."

"So I guess I'll go pack a bag..." John said feebly, playing his part in Sherlock's deception, but at the same time hoping Sherlock would tell him to hurry up and to stop wasting time talking, and John would go to Germany with Sherlock, standing around while Sherlock unraveled the mystery, and that Moriarty had never bothered him at all and things could be as simple as they seemed.

"No need to, I'm going alone." Sherlock replied, unknowingly crushing Watson's disillusioned hope. He pushed the contents of his case down and zipped it up. "They only reserved one ticket on a packed flight. You could catch another one, but honestly, I'm sure the killer isn't as clever as he thinks he is. By the time you get on the plane, I might already be on my way back. And besides, you don't know how to speak German."

John moved out of the doorway to let Sherlock through. He tossed his case onto the couch and started to tie his scarf around his neck. He glanced over at John and must have read despair on his face.

"I won't be gone long, John."

John pulled a smile and managed to maintain a steady voice as he said "Yeah, just be careful, you know? Lots of wack jobs out and about."

Sherlock laughed as he slipped on his coat and grabbed his traveling case "Oh John, if I avoided all the "wack jobs" as you call them, life wouldn't be very fun at all." and with those words, He was down the stairs. On shaky legs, John went to the window and watched as Sherlock hailed a taxi. He watched as he got in, and he watched as it drove away. And when it was gone, John continued to watch, hoping that his friend would return unharmed.

A few minutes went by. John was about to leave the window when a sleek black car pulled up in front of the building. So soon? John looked down at himself and saw that he was in the same outfit he wore yesterday, rumpled from sleeping. He kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt as he headed towards his room.

There was a knock on the door as John was putting on his trousers. "Just a minute." He said, fastening them and heading to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth quickly and splashed some water on his face. He looked at his face in the mirror and sighed. Whatever Moriarty intended to do, John was sure it wasn't going to be to his liking.

When John was ready, he opened the door and was greeted by two men, both in dark navy suits. They led the way down the stairs and into the car. One of the men opened the car door and got in. When The other man made a gesture for John to get in. He complied. When the three of them were situated, the man on his right held up a long black strip of cloth. John gave a startled laugh and shook his head.

"No. I refuse."

The man stared at him. John could see that they weren't going anywhere until he put it on. He huffed and closed his eyes. The man quickly tied the blindfold around him. He heard as one of the men knocked on the glass separating the cab from the backseat. The car smoothly pulled out from the front of the building and started it's way to wherever their destination was.

John tried to memorize all the turns and stops, but soon it all got jumbled and he sat in darkness, cursing himself for not being able to do it, thinking how Sherlock would have been able to pinpoint the exact location with ease.

He was led into a building, the men having a firm grasp on his upper arms. He heard some people talking, but it was too faint to make out anything specific. His shoes clicked on the ground. The two men stopped, and he did the same. After a few seconds a ding startled him and he could hear the sound of lift doors opening. They stepped inside. After a brief pause the lift lurched up, causing John's already unsettled stomach to do a flip. The lift opened with another ding and John was escorted about twenty steps before they stopped again. One of the men knocked three times, a brief pause between the second and third. John heard the clicking of a lock coming undone and the sound of an opening door. They stepped in and the door was shut swiftly behind them. The men led him a few paces before guiding him to a seat. The blindfold was removed.

John expected to be blinded but the room he was in was dim. He blinked a few times until his eyes were fully adjusted. Moriarty sat in front of him, two feet away in a cozy overstuffed armchair. The door shut again. John looked over and saw that the two men had left. He turned his gaze back to Moriarty in his pale grey suit, a slight smile playing on his lips. His hands rested comfortably in his lap. John looked around the room. It appeared to be a hotel. A king sized bed covered in a rich red blanket was against the wall with a cherry wood night stand nearby. A large photograph of an orchid adorned the wall. besides the two chairs, these were the only things in the room. There were no windows.

"So nice of you to join me." Jim said in a friendly voice, gesturing to the room. "Hope the accommodations are to your liking."

John said nothing. Jim gave a breathy laugh.

"Ah, still playing defiant, are we?"

John fixed his gaze on the nightstand and didn't respond.

"Now John, I don't want to have to remind you about our little deal, do I?" Jim leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You do as I say, and Sherlock's trip goes smoothly. Understand?"

John nodded.

Moriarty stared at him for a few moments before seeming satisfied. He leaned back licked his bottom lip.

"Stand."

John did as he was told, still refusing to meet Moriarty's eyes.

"Undress."

John could feel his face getting red. His arms felt heavy as he shook his coat off. He tossed it to the side. He removed his striped sweater and threw it on top of his jacket. He already felt incredibly exposed with his torso bared. He hesitated with his trousers.

"Come on Johnny boy, nothing to be shy about." Moriarty said, his voice barely a whisper.

John glanced at him. His brown eyes, appearing black in the dim light, were hungrily inching over his bare chest.

John unfastened the button and quickly stepped out of his trousers, putting them on top of his other clothes. Moriarty gave a pleased laugh.

"You wore them! I didn't know if you were going to be stubborn about that or not." His eyes ventured up to John's. "Red really suits you, you know."

John fixed his eyes on the night table again, feeling his face get even more red. His hand started to pull at the band of his underwear.

"You can leave those on, dear." Jim purred, taking in the sight before him.

John's hand went to his side. He stood straight, trying to maintain his dignity while trying his hardest not think of this ridiculous situation. After a few moments he risked another look at Moriarty. His eyes were now traveling slowly up and down John's thighs, lingering on his red pants. John noticed that Moriarty clearly had an erection. John's body suddenly went numb. Seeing how much Moriarty was enjoying this, seeing how much the sight of him naked pleased the twisted man-

This excited him. He could feel his cock stiffening. John clenched his hands and tried to think of something, anything. This man tried to kill him once. Even worse, this man tried to kill his best friend. This man was not someone to be sexually interested by.

"Glad I'm not the only one having some fun" Jim said with clear amusement at John's arousal. "Now, my dear, I want you to pull those down far enough so I can see it."

Hearing Moriarty ask him so casually to see his cock made it stiffen more, almost to its full potential. John pulled the waistband down, exposing himself.

Moriarty licked his bottom lip again and adjusted himself in the chair.

"I was honestly expecting you to put up a fight, Johnny boy, but it seems you are enjoying this...immensely." He ran his hand through his dark hair. "Who would have guessed that John Watson was such a little slut?"

John didn't respond. How was he supposed to respond? He was just as surprised as Moriarty.

"Now I want you to stroke yourself."

He hesitantly grabbed the base of his swollen cock and rubbed it. He gasped involuntarily, quickly looking at Jim. His lips were parted, his wide eyes watching John's hand slowly work it's way to the tip.

John looked away quickly, but his hand sped up nonetheless. His mind was suddenly enveloped with thoughts of Moriarty's soft lips teasing the head of his cock, his manicured hands stroking and grabbing and bringing him to the brink-

John gave a soft moan. A bead of precome gathered at his head. John's hand went faster. He was already so close. This was insane, he was already about to come, like a teenage schoolboy. He tried to stop, but his orgasm was building at an alarming rate.

"Look at me." purred Jim, his voice dark with desire.

John met the man's eyes. His hand was now at a frantic pace. John imagined what it would be like to see those dark eyes peering at him between his thighs, those eyes urging him to come, to lose control, to be his.

John's eyes rolled in the back of his head as he hit orgasm, his hand continuing to move as his cock slickened with his come. He closed his eyes as he started to come down, his thoughts becoming rational and his breathing returning to normal. He opened them once he was under control. He stood awkwardly in front of Jim, his cock softening, semen at his feet. Jim's eyes seemed glazed over. John noticed that he still had a full erection, straining in his pale grey slacks. He swallowed and gave John a small smile.

"Get dressed. You are dismissed."

With that he steepled his fingers together and said nothing else, staring into space. John tucked his now flaccid penis into his pants and picked up his clothes. He got dressed quickly. He gave Jim one last look, but the man was in his own thoughts. He opened the door. It only went a few inches before someone on the other side shut it. A voice floated from the other side.

"Face away from the door." John turned around. The door was opened and the blindfold put into place.

On the car ride home, John's thoughts were dark and confused ones.