Tags - Insomnia, Self-Indulgent, No Beta We Die Like Sherlock , Fluff , this author needed sleep but wrote this instead , author is most likely sleep deprived and is suffering from insomnia , hence the subject
Summary -
John has trouble sleeping after finishing a case. Restless, he goes outside for a peaceful walk. That is where he runs into a certain person.
The rustling of sheets can be heard over and over again. The shifting of the comforter pulling down or up is not that uncommon for the man who lays on his bed. Groaning, the man's eyes flew open and he sat there staring at the ceiling. Hearing the clock tick and tick almost laughing at him. Darkness only greets him with a slight buzz outside London. Getting up and putting on his shoes, he goes to put on a jumper. Looking around his room, he saw his closed laptop amongst the chaotic mess of papers. Another case closed and was now in the hands of the public in the recollection of his memories. Frowning, he tiptoes through the flat and makes it downstairs, grabbing his coat.
The crisp air hits his face, it was another bitter night for London. This city is always a mixture of gloomy and cold on these nights. Unfortunately it does not jolt him awake or make him retreat back inside. Huffing, he trudges along the sidewalk, hands stuffed inside his coat pockets. Moonlight glimmered on the pavement and windows but was overcrowded by the blinding streetlights. Cars zoomed by, and distant happy(?) shouting could be heard, but the man could not care less. His mind seemed distant as he'd only glance at his surroundings as he walked. Looking close, the hands in his pockets were fidgeting and his jaw was tightening each second. His pace only slowed when he reached a park clearing light softly blanketing the area.
Resting up against a tree, he left out a deep. breath. He closed his eyes, letting the outside world engulf him. The leaves rustled around him. There were barely any animals awake with the occasional chirp of an insect. The busy atmosphere of London felt distant as the man leaned back. It felt safe, familiar.
.
“Fancy seeing you here Johnny Boy,”
The man's eyes shot open and he blinked multiple times as a man stood in front of him. His charcoal suit was merging into the dark background, as well as his hair and dark eyes that predatorily watched everything in front of him. What was striking was his pale features, they were glowing in the moonlight which somehow made the man look softer? His eyebrows knitted and he opened his mouth. Then shut it. Then opened it again, “What are you doing here?”
“Hmmmm I could say the same thing for you. Shouldn't you be getting your well needed beauty sleep? Or is good ol Sherlock keeping you up at night with that terrible violin?”
The first man's lips thinned and he crossed his arms. He was unfazed by the mention of Sherlock's Violin. Just one of the many tabs he kept on him and his flatmate. “I don't have to answer you Moriarty.”
Moriarty smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, “Then I don't have to answer you.” He looked in the direction of John. They both stared at others, not moving, not blinking. His eyes narrowed as the smile stayed, he seemed to scan John, noting any “clues” on why the Doctor is here at a park alone. John tried to do the same. He may not have the best deductions skills to Sherlock, but he picked a thing or two from observing him.
Moriarty's suit was clean and crisp as ever but one thing was askew, his red tie. It seemed to be a little pushed to the side which caused slight wrinkles. His hair was styled magically as always but his eyes. There was a slight puffiness to them and his eyes held something that the other man was trying hard to hide.
.
.
.
.
“Insomnia?”
“Pardon?”
“Is insomnia keeping you up at night?” Moriarty asked, tilting his head to one side. His eyes glinted with growing curiosity. John blinked and his eyes narrowed as his hands tightened in his pockets. He was unsure what game Jim was playing at. Why does his wakefulness pique this criminal's curiosity? What does he have to gain from this information? And, is this a trap?
“Same to you then?” John watched as Jim's body stiffed for a second his body fell back into a practiced looseness, “projecting I see? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I thought the Doctor was better at deducing medical issues than blabbing like an idiot.”
John scoffed, “ Says the one that is currently talking to that said Doctor. I will ask again, why are you here?” A frown could be seen crossing the other man's features. His foot tapped and his legs alternated from staying still or rolling on the balls of his feet. Additionally, John could see the subtle chewing of the man's cheek in the highlighted darkness. Sighing, he sat down and closed his eyes.
Snapping out he looked at John then the empty space. His eyes blinked a few times before staring at the scene. Finally, his feet carried him to the spot.
John felt the added warmth next to him and he took a deep breath. Another breath came but not from his own mouth. All of the sounds melted away from them. The cars, the people shouting, any loud passing radios, any noise had vanished from the world. It was only these two men sitting below a tree in the void of the darkness. Not even the notion that one is a spider and the other is a simple fly could matter in this situation.
A weight could be felt on one of the man's shoulders that startled him. Not moving, he noticed warmth radiating from not only shoulder but from the whole right side of the man. He felt that he could not move his arm, not that he wanted to. Slowly opened his eyes and slowly looked over to see what fell in him.
What greeted him was raven black hair that shined in the light. Two hands seemed to grip the arm in place as the body was pressed close. Soft snores could be heard over the present noise.
A soft smile on the awake man. He gently tugged at the hands of the person. Slight grumbling could be heard, but he continued anyway as he successfully tried it free of his arm. But instead of placing both of them away, he interlinked his arm with others and linked their hands.
John's mind dismissed this action as his right hand was cold and needed some warmth. He would also dismiss this whole scene of allowing Moriarty to be this close from tiredness. Both men were sleep deprived afterall. Even if they wake up later like this. Or, that he'll wake up before Moriarty wakes and dare not move. He'll chop it up to not being able to get a prior good night's rest. Hell, even the words he uttered was from being ill rested as he gently played his head back relishing in the warmth.
