Crash!

John awoke with a start as he heard what sounded like dishes shattering. Blinking, he glanced over to find Moriarty sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard. Moriarty looked over at him before checking his watch. "13 minutes," he noted. John cocked his head slightly in confusion. "I was wondering when they would wake you up. For a soldier, you're a heavy sleeper."

"Actually, I've always considered myself to be a light sleeper," John answered, puzzled by Moriarty's observation. He paused for a moment as he thought about everything. "But I suppose being forced to sleep through gunfire and bombings would change that."

Bam! Thud!

Frantic, loud voices could be heard through the walls, although the words were too distorted for John to know what exactly the neighbours were arguing about. "Are they always like this?" Moriarty asked, motioning towards the wall that separated them from the angry couple.

"Not that I know of," John answered honestly as he pulled himself upright and leaned back against the headboard as well. "But God knows. If I'm as heavy of a sleeper as you say, I could have very easily just slept through everything."

Moriarty pondered this thought a moment. "I doubt it. You did eventually wake up, after all. And from the sound of their yelling, they've had this argument before."

"How can you tell just from the sound?" John inquired, fascinated.

"They're exasperated with each other, apparent through the pauses in their speech and the emphasis on some of their words," he responded matter-of-factly. He then looked over at John with a glimmer in his eyes. "Besides, I made out the words, 'We've talked about this already,' before you woke up."

Chuckling, John replied, "It would have been more impressive if you had left that last part out, you know."

Thump! Bam! Crack!

"What the fuck are they doing? Tearing the flat down?" Moriarty snarled. "I'm tempted to go over there and see who will pay more to have the other person killed."

John sharply looked over and examined Moriarty carefully, wanting to make sure that he was just joking with such a statement. After all, he could never be sure. But the gleam in Moriarty's eyes was only mischievous, not menacing, and he relaxed slightly. "Oh, come on now. They're slowly working it out on their own."

"And what exactly do you mean by 'it,' Johnny? The argument? Or how to murder someone?"

John grinned in response. "That remains to be seen."

The distant screaming became louder for a moment, and he could start making out some of the words. "Anniversary! – Every time! – Inconsiderate! – Dinner even!" mixed with "Work late! – Pay all the bills! – Forget? – Inconsiderate one!"

Moriarty raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes for a moment to show his exasperation. "Should I make us some popcorn?" he inquired as something else shattered against the wall.

"Shouldn't we call the Yard?" John responded, worried that the fight might be escalating too much.

Shaking his head, Moriarty told him, "If they were going to get physical, they would have done so already. Besides, calling the Yard would only bring them here. They would want to ask questions of all the neighbours and would start poking around this place. I would much prefer to keep the Yard away from this." He paused for a moment before pressing, "So are you refusing the popcorn?"

"Utter… Forever… Ungrateful!" managed to drift into the room.

"Might as well," John said, knowing there was nothing he could really do about the fight. "I won't be going to sleep until they're done anyway."

With that, Moriarty jumped to his feet – making John take notice that he was only in his pants and a T-shirt – before hurrying out of the room. The arguing continued, now too distant for John to make out any words, for the next three minutes. He shuffled back into the room with a bowl and set it on the bed between them. "Much better," he murmured under his breath before taking a handful. "Honestly, people get worked up about the most ridiculous things. So what if he forgot an anniversary?"

Crash! Thud! Wham!

"It's not that simple," John replied, taking a handful himself. It was strange just how at peace he was with the entire situation. Eating popcorn with Moriarty in the bedroom while listening to an argument next door. It sounded like an awful Cluedo solution… Before popping the handful in his mouth, he commented, "I don't suppose you've been in a relationship that lasted long enough to have an anniversary."

Shaking his head, Moriarty replied, "One night stands are much more my style. Short term relationships have happened, but none lasted over a month. Most didn't make it a week."

"May I ask why?" John inquired, now curious. It was strange to think that Moriarty had a somewhat normal dating lifestyle.

"Yes." Moriarty flashed him a mischievous grin.

Rolling his eyes, John grabbed another handful of popcorn. "Why?"

"I get bored easily," Moriarty told him after a moment's hesitation. He shrugged slightly. "Besides, I have to break it off before they start becoming sentimental about everything."

John frowned as he heard this. It was yet another good reason why he should keep Moriarty at a distance. After hearing a couple more shouts through the walls, he said, "Anniversaries are important things for an actual relationship. They mark milestones. They mark all the minutes, hours, and days you have been with this person. It's a day to really focus on your partner and remember why it is you love them. You get to reminisce about your better memories, and you're forced to push away all those petty things you argue about – even if it's only for a day."

Enraptured, Moriarty stared at John as he spoke, taking small handfuls of popcorn every now and again. "And your opinion?" he pressed after it became clear that John wasn't going to continue.

"I suppose it depends on who my partner at the time is. But I guess overall, anniversaries will always remain important to me," he said honestly before taking another handful.

"I still don't understand it."

Smiling softly, John said, "And maybe you never will." He chewed the popcorn as he thought. "I think it would be easier for you to understand if you were in a relationship long enough to have an anniversary. One that mattered, I mean – not a one week or one month one."

"Is that an offer, Johnny-boy?" Moriarty inquired teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

John rolled his eyes. "Not on your life."

"Shame."

Thump! Thump! Thump! Bam!

Both of them stilled as the flat next to them fell silent. After a long moment, John whispered, "Do you think one of them actually killed the other?" He was only half-joking at this rate, slightly worried about the sudden silence that took over the flat next door.

"No… I think one stormed out of the flat," Moriarty murmured in response. He took the almost empty bowl of popcorn and set it on the nightstand before sinking down into the bed. "Good night."

"Good night."

Although Moriarty went back to sleep, John felt too restless to do so himself. His mind was still trying to wrap around what he was doing. Rubbing his eyes, he could practically hear Sherlock's voice in his head right now, telling him how stupid he was being by letting himself actually enjoy Moriarty's company and opening up to one of the most dangerous men in the world. And how would Sherlock even react if anything actually happened between John and Moriarty? Would he be bothered that his best friend slept with his archenemy? Or would he be fascinated by the fact that Moriarty deemed John worthy enough to be his bed partner?

And how would John even begin to explain what happened? After all, Moriarty and Sherlock were strikingly similar – but John found that he was only sexually attracted to the former. Sherlock was a loyal friend, to say the very least, but he wasn't and never would be boyfriend material for John. "I'm married to my work" aside, he had a tendency to pay John hardly any attention until he wanted something, which frustrated him to no end. Sherlock also left him feeling remarkably ignorant more often than John cared for. That wasn't to say that Moriarty coddled him, of course, but he didn't give John the same feelings that Sherlock did. And then there were the remarkable contrasts that existed between the two – John didn't have to babysit Moriarty, Moriarty actually complimented his cooking even if it was in a backhanded way, he paid attention to John almost singularly when he decided to come over, and he came over quite frequently, implying that he enjoyed John's company. But how could he be sure with Moriarty being who he is? Even so, he couldn't ignore the fact that that was more than ever could be said for Sherlock.

Settling back down into bed, John stared at the ceiling as his thoughts whirled around. No matter how much he might complain about Sherlock, even if it was only to himself, there was no denying that John missed him. He tried to not think about Sherlock on most days, although that proved to be rather impossible given how much free time he had. He wondered how Sherlock was doing without him there. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what he would prefer – torn between wanting to be needed and wanting Sherlock to be okay on his own. He could only imagine what the Yard was dealing with right now since John wasn't there to keep Sherlock from texting them every three minutes. Hell, Lestrade might have even caved in and given Sherlock permission to go through the cold case files like he's been asking to do for months. That thought alone made John smile. Part of him wondered how Sherlock would react once he was finally back. Would he be more grateful than before for John's company and comments? Relieved to find John in one piece? Or would he just be the same old Sherlock? The thought that Sherlock would take one look at him and inform him that they were going to a crime scene amused John to no end, although he really wouldn't mind being appreciated more.

Closing his eyes, John let out a deep breath as he finally calmed down enough to fall asleep as well.

The next morning, John woke to an empty bed. He went about his day as always: making breakfast, watching the morning news, washing the dishes, adding to the grocery list, and cooking lunch. It wasn't until directly after lunch that something interesting finally happened. Just as John was about to start washing his plate, he heard the key in the door. He turned, and Moriarty swung the door open but remained standing in the doorway.

"What? Do you suddenly need permission to come inside? Get bit by a vampire or something?" John jested, slightly confused.

Moriarty scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I own this flat. Even if I had been turned into a vampire, I wouldn't require your permission to come inside."

Raising an eyebrow, John pressed, "So then what's going on?"

"You and I are going to go on a little trip," Moriarty informed him matter-of-factly. John wasn't sure if he should be thrilled or concerned. "We're going to go take a nice stroll in the park."

John kept his expression carefully guarded. "What's the catch?"

"For one, you're not allowed to talk to anyone besides me. In fact, I would suggest that you don't even look at anyone else. I can't have you trying to escape at the first chance you get, after all." Moriarty paused a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I doubt that I have to worry about you trying to leave me – not when we're so close into making this something more – but I'm sure that you already know that if you even take a stab at it, there will be awful repercussions." He sang out the last part sweetly before grinning at John.

"You have nothing to worry about," John grumbled, feigning disinterest. He had nearly gone two weeks without stepping a foot outside, and he wasn't about to let the chance pass him up – although he wasn't going to give Moriarty the satisfaction of knowing just how much he needed this. "Do I need a jumper?"

"No. It's plenty warm out," Moriarty informed him. With that, John gave a nod before tugging on his shoes, noting how strange it felt to have his feet feel trapped inside of them, and heading towards the door. "And there is one more thing," Moriarty continued idly.

Huffing in amusement, John answered, "I knew there would be."

"How do you feel about blindfolds?"

"I beg your pardon?" John inquired incredulously.

Moriarty pulled out a blindfold from behind his back, and John instantly didn't want to know where he got it from. "I can't have you reporting anything back to either of the Holmes boys, now can I? Not when I've been so careful all the time."

"You've got to be kidding me," John pressed. "I didn't come here with a blindfold on!"

"That's because I knew I could distract you. It really was too easy to keep your attention fixed on me. Not that I'm complaining, of course," he responded. "After all, I do enjoy being the centre of your attention, Johnny-boy." He then raised the blindfold up. "So what will it be? Blindfolded and you get some time outside? Or not and you get to stay here?"

John scowled and glared down at the blindfold. He didn't like not being able to see around Moriarty, but the idea of staying trapped in that flat was even less appealing. So he snatched the blindfold out of Moriarty's hand and slowly slipped it over his eyes. "There. Happy?"

"More than just that," Moriarty whispered huskily.

"Not interested!"

Suddenly, John heard Moriarty's voice come from behind him. "You know, you say that the same way you used to say, 'I'm not gay.' So indignant with a slight panic to the tone. It's quite endearing if I must say."

"Are we going to the park or not?" John bit back, refusing to acknowledge Moriarty's statement.

Chuckling, Moriarty murmured, "So feisty. I like for my partners to have a little fight in them. Makes everything much more interesting in bed." All of a sudden, John felt a hand press into his back and give a small shove. He tentatively took a couple steps forward before pausing as he felt the hand suddenly leave his back. The door clicked shut, and the hand returned a second later. "Turn to your 3 o'clock," Moriarty ordered. John complied before feeling another nudge forward. He disliked not being able to see where he was going immensely, especially since he couldn't remember the building enough to even estimate the distance between the flat and the lift.

"This is bloody ridiculous," he complained, reaching out his hands in order to ensure that he wouldn't run into anything.

"But necessary."

John scoffed as he heard this. "Hardly."

Moriarty didn't answer for a long moment, and John heard the lift bing and its doors slide open. Once nudged inside, he turned completely around. Although John was somewhat curious as to how Moriarty was planning to play everything off. After all, it wasn't as if blindfolding people and leading them out of a building was a normal occurrence in London. The lift binged again, and the doors opened to what John assumed was the lobby.

As he took another tentative step out, he heard Moriarty exclaim, "Of course I'm not going to tell you where we're going. That's the whole point of a surprise, Johnny! I swear, all you ever want to do is ruin my fun."

Even John had to admit that that was certainly clever. Letting out a long sigh, he said nothing as he was pushed out of the building. A firm hand on his head told him he was about to be shifted into a car. The moment he was inside the car, he felt better. It was nice to be able to relax for a moment and not have to worry about running into something. "Nice touch with the surprise speech," he commented indifferently.

"Did you like that?" Moriarty asked rhetorically. "It went over better than I expected, although I knew there would be no issues either way. Your sigh really sealed the deal, though. I suppose I should thank you for playing along."

Shaking his head, John looked to his left only because he knew that Moriarty wouldn't be able to see his face. He then suddenly felt a hand on his knee, causing him to flinch from the sudden contact. Without missing a beat, he shoved it off. "What are you-?" he started to ask.

"You look good like that, you know," Moriarty whispered in his ear, warm breath caressing his skin. John instinctively jerked away only to have nowhere to go. "Blindfolded. Not able to see anything. Only feel, smell, hear, and taste." There was a long pause as John tried to calculate what Moriarty was trying to gain from the conversation. "They say that being blindfolded forces you to focus on your other senses. That it's incredibly erotic to do in bed. I can see why people would say that. Seeing you like this – all I can think about is undressing you and having my way with you. And I would be able to see every reaction from every small touch. Take you by surprise as my lips danced down your chest. Gauge your reaction as I claimed you with my teeth. Watch your breathing increase as I finally took your cock into my mouth and slid all the way down to the base. To know that the only thing you could feel was me as I sucked you hard, letting your dick hit the back of my throat as I did so."

By now, John was fighting to keep himself perfectly calm. It was difficult since the lack of visual stimuli made it easier for him to clearly picture everything Moriarty was saying. Swallowing hard, John rasped out, "I'm not interested."

"So you say, but I would have you screaming underneath me, John. I would have you pleading for more – harder – faster – oh, please, James, please." John shivered as he heard this. "Writhing and bucking and begging. You would look beautiful in such a state."

John sucked in a deep breath and started remembering all the surgeries he had ever performed. Before he knew it, he calmed down and was no longer on the verge of yanking the blindfold off and giving in to lust. "As I said before," he stated evenly, "I'm not interested."

"I see you got yourself under control. That's a shame," Moriarty commented.

John heard him shift back in his seat, and he relaxed just a touch. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, which he didn't particularly mind at all. When the car finally stopped, he reached up and touched his blindfold. "I'm assuming I can take it off now, or are you planning to guide me throughout the park blindfolded as well? Because this excursion would be pointless if so."

Chuckling, Moriarty said, "You may remove the blindfold. Just remember the other restrictions set in place."

"As if I could honestly forget," John retorted as he finally yanked it off. Eyes fluttering open, he winced as the bright light blinded him. He blinked several times and collected himself before stepping out of the car.

They were just outside a small park, which was relatively inactive for a garden in London. Sucking in a deep breath, John felt like he was tasting freedom for the first time in months. He grinned broadly and started forward, not caring if Moriarty rebuked him or didn't even follow him at all. Finally, John could stretch his legs. He wanted to run until he couldn't move anymore, but he restrained himself.

"Take a quick jog to that tree and back," Moriarty stated, motioning towards a tree off the main path and probably just less than ten metres back. No one was anywhere around the tree or close to the straight line John would make running over. John looked back at Moriarty curiously, slightly sceptical of the offer. "It's obvious that you're itching to run. It'll irritate me if you keep up this atmosphere of being three seconds away from bolting. So just do it."

With that, John flashed a grin and sprinted towards the tree. It felt good to get his muscles working again and to stretch his legs to their full extent. Heart pumping, he sucked in several large breaths as it became difficult to breathe. He couldn't help but notice just how out of shape he had gotten just in the last couple weeks alone. At least living with Sherlock forced him to run around London and kept him fit. Reaching the tree, John paused a moment to touch it and catch his breath. A moment later, he was jogging back towards Moriarty, taking his time before hopping to a stop.

"Better?" Moriarty pressed, sounding bored.

"Much," John answered, unable to keep himself from smiling like an idiot.

"Back in the car then."

Crestfallen, John responded, "What? So soon? We just got here!"

With a shrug, Moriarty stated, "I'm a busy man."

"Oh, come on! I haven't been outside in nearly two weeks. Surely work can wait another ten minutes or so," he pressed. He didn't want to go back yet. Not when the air smelt so sweet and tasted fresh and pure despite the fact that it was London, of all places. In all honestly, John was perfectly comfortable in doing just about anything in order to stay, which is why he wound up pleading, "Please, James?"

Moriarty's eyes widened almost unperceptively as John finally said his name. He faltered a moment, glancing at the car and then his watch. After a moment's pause, he said, "Very well. We'll take a small walk. Come along."

John's spirits soared as he heard this, and he eagerly started down the path. Falling in step, Moriarty kept his eyes glued to his mobile. John really didn't mind it – not when he could enjoy the sounds, smells, and sights of the outside world. The trees were gorgeous and everything was a lush green. Hidden in those trees were chirping birds, probably caring for their little ones as they prepared to learn how to fly. For once, it wasn't overcast, and the sun beat down brightly on them. A few couples could be seen here and there, either walking together or sitting on a park bench while kissing. Normally, such a display would irritate John. Today, however, was not a normal day.

"Excuse me?" a woman's voice rang out. John instinctively looked over to find a woman with a map heading towards them. Tourist, clearly, going by what she was wearing and the map – and the fact that she had a distinctly North American accent, although John couldn't place if she was from the States or Canada. "Could you possibly help me?"

John instinctively went to answer when he remembered the restrictions. Snapping his jaw shut, he glanced back at Moriarty, who looked up from his phone. His expression, which had been of irritation just seconds ago, morphed into that of open friendliness. His entire body shifted from being hunched over and closed to standing straight with broad shoulders. "What are you looking for?" he asked with a pleasant smile plastered on his face.

"I'm afraid I got a bit turned around. Could you show me where I am?" she asked, flushing slightly in embarrassment.

"Of course," Moriarty said, gently taking the map from her and looking it. After a few moments of searching, he pointed at a spot on the map. "You're right here."

"Oh, thank you so much!" she replied, clearly relieved. "Have a lovely day!"

Smiling back, Moriarty replied, "You, too."

Once again, John marvelled at Moriarty's acting skills. And once more, he worried that he was just being toyed with. If there were no real feelings there, and John was just being taken advantage of… He stopped himself from going any further with those thoughts. What did it matter, after all? He already swore to himself that he wouldn't get involved with Moriarty, no matter how much he was tempted to. He shouldn't even be entertaining those ideas – no matter how much he might want them to actually happen.

"I thought you would slip up for sure," Moriarty told him as soon as the woman was out of earshot, pulling him out of his thoughts. John glanced over to find him already buried back in his mobile. "Since you love to help people and all."

"It was a close call," he responded, shrugging a shoulder. "I'm good with orders, though. Had to be when in the army. I can follow most of them to the T."

Moriarty hummed in acknowledgement. Abruptly, he looked up at John with a wild gleam in his eyes. "You just can't help but give me all sorts of naughty ideas, can you, Johnny-boy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," John denied, throwing his hands up in a surrendering manner.

Chuckling, Moriarty shook his head and slowly turned them around to walk back the other way. "Enjoying your time out here?" he pressed after a moment's pause, not even glancing up at John.

"Very much so," John replied honestly, hoping that it might incite more outings like this in the next couple of weeks. He paused for a long moment before finally shoving back his pride. "Thank you for taking me out here. It's been lovely."

"Think of it as repayment for cooking for me all weekend long," Moriarty told him dismissively. "It was even decent cooking, too."

Rolling his eyes, John knew that was the closest he would get to a compliment from James Moriarty. "Git," he muttered somewhat affectionately under his breath.

"You were so well-behaved that we might even be able to do this again sometime," Moriarty continued. Either he hadn't heard John's comment or he just elected to ignore it.

"Really?"

Moriarty looked away from his mobile. "I don't see why not. Besides it'll just irk Mr Holmes to no end that I let you out of your cage every now and again, and he didn't even notice. Or even if he does, that there's nothing he can do about it." Without missing a beat, he turned back to his phone.

"Oh," John responded, disappointment reflecting in his voice. Of course – everything always had to link back to Mycroft and their game.

"You sound disappointed, Johnny."

"Not at all," John lied.

Sighing, Moriarty shoved his mobile back into his jacket pocket. "What should I have said? Should I have lied and told you that I am doing this only because I know you need it?"

"That would have been nice," John pointed out. "You're a great actor anyway. Why won't you pretend for me?"

"Because I want to fuck you senseless," Moriarty informed him matter-of-factly, taking John off guard. "You'll be the first person I've ever had who knows who I really am. There's something… hallowed about that. So I'm not going to sugar-coat things for you. After all, Johnny, you're a big boy. You can handle the truth."

Shaking his head, John retorted, "I'm not going to have sex with you, so you can stop worrying about that altogether."

"You're not going to have sex with me tonight," Moriarty responded. "But there's always tomorrow. Eventually, you're going to get tired of fighting those feelings trapped inside. It's much easier to act on them, you know."

They got to the car, and John was the first to slide inside. Both of them remained quiet for a long moment before he reached out a hand. "Just give me the blindfold and take me back to the flat," he said monotonously.

Moriarty hesitated for a moment before handing it over to John, who slipped it on without any quarrel this time. Neither of them spoke on the car ride back, and Moriarty only talked when he needed to guide John back into the building. Although John reminded him that he had already seen everything once, Moriarty was insistent that the blindfold remain over John's eyes until they were back in the flat. Once they were, Moriarty took the blindfold off and left without another word. Alone, John took a moment to collect his thoughts. There were only 19 days left, he reminded himself. He was pretty sure he could make it that long.