Chapter Text
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February, 2012
“James?”
The lack of reply other than the high-pitched falsettos of Stayin’ Alive singing quietly in the distance of the roof of 221B worried Sherlock. There were times, like this moment now, where Jim would vanish in the middle of the night. Of course, Sherlock shouldn’t of cared because he’s a ‘sociopath’ who 'doesn’t care’, but just the same as he worries for John, his best friend.. He’s worried for his boyfriend. Well, boyfriend wasn’t the proper word either, if he were quite honest. James Moriarty was the only person for him and that was that. What broke Sherlock’s thought was when he noticed his Moriarty so close to that edge. It was the third time this month…
“James, what are you doing up here?”
The slender Irishman was glancing up at the night sky. He was watching the stars, fascinated by the vastness, fascinated by the void. Even years later, James Moriarty couldn’t be seperated from that view. They, the burning orbs known as stars, were of pure beauty. The most pure idea of beauty he could ever lay his eyes on. Burning so very bright yet not alive. Not alive. He easily noted the constellations, his eyes gleaming at the beautiful lights that seemed so close but were so very far from his touch. Almost like a love that just wasn’t meant to be. James’ mind worked mapping out every star mentally and recalling and storing away facts as usual. Arms soon wrapped themselves around the man’s waist, even this couldn’t break his concentration.
"James, it’s freezing out here. Come inside.“
"Do y'know which constellation that is?” The Irish drawl spoke out quietly in a whisper.
“… You know I don’t,” his lover replied with an equally hushed tone.
“Canis Major, it symbolizes a giant dog.”
“Ah, yes.. RedBeard in astronomical porportions then,” Sherlock glanced at the man in his arms. He placed a soft kiss to his cheek before giving him a little squeeze.
“Canis Major contains Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, it’s also known as the 'dog star’, ” Jim murmured his reply, lost in the night sky. He paused, “makes me think of you, Sherlock.”
Holmes gave a small sad smile. The detective knew that James wasn’t okay. He knew on nights like these his boyfriend needed to be held and pulled away from the edge that he seemed to always stand so close to. Sherlock placed loving gentle kisses on the back of James’ shoulders and neck, even though they were covered by his usual sleep shirt. “James…” he started before stopping his own words with thought. Sherlock thought back to the first time he saw Jim after a nightmare. The normally pristine man was a complete and utter mess. His skin had been paler than ever and drenched in sweat, yet he was shivering madly. There were messy strands of hair stuck to his face, and tears in his dark tired eyes, that broke Sherlock’s heart. As always, Jim didn’t speak about it. He didn’t want to remember what he had dreamt of, what he had lived through. He would only take the moment to curl up more and into Sherlock’s warmth. However that face had scarred itself into his mind, oh, his Jim looked like death.
The detective found after time, the only thing he could possibly do correctly in those moments with Jim was to pull him close and just hold him. To cradle him as if he were a small child who needed to be protected from the monsters of the night. They never spoke about it. James never spoke of his past, and Sherlock knew better than to ask. One day, perhaps Jim would open up and share what horrible beasts frightened him when he was comfortable. Until then, Sherlock wouldn’t press the man but instead be there to cherish James in ways he never had been.
“Stop thinking.”
James had turned around in his lover’s arms. He pulled Sherlock down into a kiss, one of the many they had shared and would share under the blanket of stars that was known as the night sky. Once their lips connected into the sweet sparkling hot kiss, a shooting star shot across over the intwined men. Of course, if he had not been distracted, James would have given a nice lengthy explanation of how shooting stars are really meteors. If Sherlock were honest, he’d have to admit, he would have enjoyed the lecture as equally as he enjoyed the kiss. The warming sound of James Moriarty, genius consulting criminal, speaking so elated about astronomy was absolute perfection. That was truly Sherlock’s favorite thing to hear, even if he didn’t understand Jim’s specific interest in astronomy, he did understand and truly love Jim.
“Oh no, now we’ve snogged to this god awful song,” Sherlock teased attempting to make that beautiful smile come out. James made some sort of a mix between a snort and a whine, overall an oddly adorable combination coming from him.
“Way to ruin the moment, dork.” Sherlock raised a brow, “I’m the dork? You’re the one stargazing and listening to disco of all things. What’s next bellbottoms and roller skates?”
Oh, and there it was, the smile that could split heaven in two. Jim snickered softly, “oh yeah? Well, I think you should kiss me again, Mr.Holmes.” Sherlock laughed before giving into the criminal’s demands and ultimately his own.
“Stay with me,” Holmes smiled into the mumbled words against his lips. He gave a small nod and murmured his own reply, “of course. Always.” The two stayed like that, in each other’s arms. Both cold and yet so delightfully warm from their embrace. Every once in awhile one or the other would sneak small stolen kisses from the either.
To think, James mused, he had just thought of ending it all like he had those many many times before throughout his existence. His mother would have been proud of him. She would have loved Sherlock, he was sure. He almost gave up after so many hauntings, but that would have meant giving up what he loved most of all. This is what James Moriarty loved. These two things, that made James want to continue on with life. These two beautiful things that made the dullness and the boredom fade and brought wonder once more. The two beautiful marvelous things that made him want to stay alive, (besides, his surprising love of disco and his mum.)
Astronomy and Sherlock Holmes.