Catching the Ghost (Sheriarty/Jimlock) 18+

Chapter 22

The rope creaked under Jim's weight, the fine red lines of friction burn glowed under the glimmering sheen of sweat on pale skin. The stretch of Jim's sinewy bicep as he adjusted against his restraints, his steady ragged breaths, his dark eyelashes unveiling the intense gaze, everything about this moment was burning itself into Sherlock's mind forever.

"Restraints again? This a thing for you or are you just taking your role in cops and robbers very seriously?" Jim smirked, his expression one of unflustered self-control, but the flush on his body told a different story.

"I'm not a cop," Sherlock said, tracing the pattern of the single stretch of rope which criss-crossed Jim's body, held him suspended on glorious display. His fingers followed the line to where the base of the criminal's thrice-spent cock was tied. "And you're so much more than a simple robber."

Jim barked a short laugh as a small drop of sweat fell from the tip of his nose. His midnight sky eyes focused to meet Sherlock's with laser intensity. "No of course not. I'm the love of your life."

Sherlock flattened his palm against Jim's stomach and slid behind him, kissing the man's neck. "You are."

"Fine. I am," Jim said softly as he lifted his chin, giving Sherlock's lips access to travel up to the base of his jaw. "For another 2982.5 hours."

Sherlock froze. "You're still counting."

"You're an idiot if you're not."

Sherlock paused, running the calculations in his head. "You're counting the times you came over for coffee."

"Yes."

"And the times we were sleeping."

"Yes."

"And the time I called you on that little case."

"You're the one who insisted on a meeting."

Panic roared into Sherlock's chest. "That doesn't COUNT," he shouted.

"You said time together, not time fucking," Jim muttered with a bored little sigh.

Sherlock spun Jim around to face him, the rope creaked as it twisted, sending the criminal's body into a slight sway. Sherlock grabbed Jim's chin and looked at him. "You said you'd try ..."

Jim yawned. "Try what?"

Sherlock blushed. He looked down mumbling, "You said you'd be my boyfriend."

"And so I am," Jim said. "For another 2982 hours."

"What happened to the 0.5?"

"I docked you for boring me."

Sherlock's eyes snapped up to meet Jim's. He looked very self-possessed now, in control despite the intricate spiderweb pattern Sherlock had tied him up in. He thought Jim would appreciate the aesthetics, the meaning behind it. Jim clearly understood, but he was rejecting him.

"You're angry and you're lashing out at me," he said at last.

"Am I?" Jim snickered. "Would your boyfriend do that to you?"

Sherlock gaped, his heart hammered in his chest.

Jim's smile widened. "Would the love of your life say something to hurt you Sherlock? Tell you the precise moment they're going to leave you forever?"

"That's not the arrangement," he said blinking back tears.

"That's the point. This is an arrangement," Jim hissed. He wobbled his head a bit and glanced up at the ropes holding him suspended. "A sexy arrangement I'll grant you. Did you youtube how to do Shibari?"