Work Text:
"Isn't it obvious, Sherlock?" Moriarty's matter-of-fact tone kept echoing in his head, "You love me. As much as either of us can." The last sentence had resonated something fierce within the detective, but he couldn't tell why.
Love |ləv|: An intense feeling of deep affection.
Or, if used as a verb:
To feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone).
Sherlock had mulled over the mundane definitions for weeks and still hadn't come up with a reasonable argument. He can't possibly be right… can he? But even as he considered how Jim could be wrong, his cell phone chirped, letting him know it was time to head to the hospital.
Neither party was sure how it started, but at least once a week, the two consultants had been meeting on the roof at Bart's. There wasn't much purpose other than, as Moriarty put it, "The pleasure of each other's company."
This is when the noun comes in, the detective muses as he flags a taxi, My feelings of adoration and appreciation for Jim are much more than "intense." He felt them in his stomach, humming along his arterial linings, that's potent, right? And if this is a date, does that make it romantic?
When he arrives, Jim is already sitting on the ledge, staring out into the darkening London skyline. Sherlock sits beside him, taking in the scenery.
"I take it you've got no witty comeback this time around?" Jim coos, casting a mischievous sideways glance at the detective, "Just as well."
"Do you love me, Jim?" He asks, arm automatically curling around Jim's shoulders. The smell of Jim's cologne sparks something within him, making him want the criminal much closer than he could physically be, Affection…
"Of course, honey." Jim mumbles against his chest, "How could I resist?"
And this is where the verb comes in… Leaning against his nemesis, Sherlock can't help but notice how much better the sky looks knowing Jim is under it.
Still, the narrow definitions which he had crammed into his mind palace seemed too simplistic for what he felt right now. It said nothing about being unable to live without the object of desire… nor how they are the only ones that understand you. Or give you something interesting in this dull world. How they break up the monotony of endless faceless people, questions that can be answered before being asked…
Whatever this is… it's probably close enough.