Sherliam Oneshots

Smoker's Kiss

Please remember that this is not my story.
This story was written by idricaea (on ao3).

William James Moriarty disliked cigarettes.

Everyone knew the second son of the Moriarty family disliked any kind of substance that could damage health. Most people, including the ones in his organization, speculate that it was because of the adopted third son, Louis, and his declining health since childhood, that he didn't want anyone in his household to experience such a fate.

That was the reason that whenever William was spotted in any club, celebration, or restaurant unless the occasion called for it, there would be a cup of tea in his hand instead of a wine glass or a champagne flute. That was the reason he would glance disapprovingly at his eldest brother, Albert, after the Earl had what the young lord deemed 'one too many glasses of wine.'

They presumed William's distaste for cigarettes was for the same reason.

Or so that was what the young professor made them believe.

They were partially correct. William James Moriarty didn't like how after each one of it burned out from his lips, his lungs felt clogged, his throat raw and dry.

They were also partially incorrect. William James Moriarty didn't like how after each one of it burned out from his lips, his thoughts would be clogged with the midnight-eyed detective, a space in his chest raw and dry.

Sherlock Holmes, just like the cigarette, was an indulgence William deemed dangerously addictive.

Since the first time they met on the Noahtic, William knew he was treading a dangerous line whenever the consultant detective was concerned. Whenever they were together, between the mask hiding the Lord of Crimes and the mask hiding Liam, William could not predict which would slip first.

Since the conversation they had on the train, Sherlock knew there would be more coincidences in his life where the young lord was concerned. Whenever they were together, between solving the mystery of the crime scene and the mystery that was William, Sherlock found it hard to focus on the crime.

What made their relationship more dangerous was the fact that the adrenaline of it was addicting.

The detective's visit to Durham proved that much.

It was after their lunch, before William's last lecture of the day that they shared their first kiss. Unpredicted but inevitable, William would say, would want to believe when he found the detective's hand gently lifting his face up from the papers that were being prepared.

But when their lips met, the Lord of Crimes knew there was nothing left that to be denied about this midnight-eyed man. Sherlock Holmes was William James Moriarty's equal, not only intellectually but in every other way that mattered.

To Sherlock Holmes, William James Moriarty was a person who could match his witty mind and sharp tongue. To Mr.Holmes, Lord Moriarty was a person who could understand anything and everything he said. To Sherlock, Liam was someone he could not afford to lose.

After Durham, 221B Baker Street often had an anonymous guest spend the night. Not a lot of people knew of this, for the hours where this man showed up were unnoticeable and always left before the break of dawn.

Neither Dr.Watson nor Ms.Hudson knew who this anonymous guest was but they had their guesses. They both knew better than to involve themselves in aristocracy scandals, especially when they knew Holmes will be directly involved.