bakerstreet | the hate sex meme

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the hate sex meme

the hate sex meme

1. Jealousy: Who are they sexting late at night? Did their gaze linger too long on your sexy neighbor? Time to confront them, show them that they are yours, that they belong with you and no one else.
2. Recently broken up: Breaking up is hard to do. The fights, the separation, the bad feelings that come with it. And sometimes lingering passions can make you have some intense reunions.
3. Long Time Enemies: Childhood rivals, competing companies, families, good vs. evil, whatever it is, you two do not get along. But hate can easily give way to a different sort of passion.
4. Taunting: You push and you push and you push, and they push back. Eventually one of you is going to snap, you can only ignore sexual tension for so long.
5. Just plain hate: You hate them. So much. And every time they look at you, you want to punch them in the face, but deep in your depraved mind you would really like to rip their clothes off and have some hot hate sex. Time to give in.
6. Wildcard: Pick from above or... got a different scenario in mind? Go crazy. Pick your own!

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OOC: Ooh, that's a tricky one! Moriarty would have to take a hostage to ensure that John doesn't simply kill the evil bastard with his bare hands either before, during, or after the sexing-up. Would Harry's life be enough to secure John's cooperation? :3

OOC: Oh, my. Yes, her life would definitely do it!

[It had taken a little complex manoeuvring to ensure that Sherlock was out of the flat while John was in it, but Moriarty knew he could count on two things: One, Sherlock would immediately start running around London in circles if a clue was dangled in front of him, and two: no matter how exciting events got, Doctor Watson could not go more than a day or two without sleep.

[When John made his way down the stairs on this particular morning he would find his favourite person lounging in Sherlock's chair watching something on the telly. Jim called out to John cheerfully just before they got in line of sight of each other.]

Goooood morning, Sunshine!

[John didn't expect Sherlock to be out of the flat at this hour. Usually, he was playing his violin, working on experiments, or occasionally yelling at the telly. True, he sometimes took off on a new case without telling John, until remembering later to send him a text because he needed something. But when John walks down the stairs, he hears the telly on, and figures Sherlock must be particularly bored, or he's hoping to find something interesting on the news.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he hears a voice that is very much NOT Sherlock's voice, but one that sends a shiver down his spine. After all, the last time he saw Moriarty, he had an explosive vest on his chest, which various sniper rifles were aimed right at.

Unfortunately, his gun is upstairs, in the drawer beside his pillow, but he doesn't chance running back to get it. His shackles raise, and he wonders if Sherlock is here, or if Moriarty has already done something to him. His voice is cool when he speaks, his expression already hardening. He wants to shout, wants to strangle Moriarty, but he doesn't yet, not until he understands the situation better.]

What are you doing here?

Oh, I just thought I'd drop by to say hello! We can reminisce about old times, you can make me a spot of tea, that sort of business. We might not have another chance~!

[Moriarty is exquisitely aware of John's passionate desire to choke the ever-loving dickens out of him, though the pleasant smile on his face and the relaxed posture seemed to say the opposite. The good doctor wasn't nearly as stupid as most people and Moriarty had counted on his learning from experience that the arch-villain would NEVER show up without a way to ensure his own welfare.

[It was so much more CIVILISED when they were polite right from the beginning!

[He wondered how long it would be before John turned his attention toward the scene on the telly? There was nothing truly attention-grabbing about it, just a polite scene in a cozy dining room of people out to a fancy brunch. Then again, with the focal point of the camera on a familiar face it might just catch his eye quickly on a subconscious level.]

[Words cannot express how furious John is at the moment, even though the anger would appear to be quietly simmering just below the surface. He's still trying to process the situation, take in the reasons why Moriarty would be in the flat, but Sherlock nowhere to be found. Had he harmed him? Kidnapped him? Or was Sherlock fine? Was Moriarty there for John again? He knew the man's interest had never been in him, but in his genius of a flatmate. So he cannot comprehend why this madman would be there for him.]

If you think I'm just going to sit down and have a chat with you, then you're not nearly as brilliant as you seem to think you are. What the hell are you doing in my flat?

[The anger was starting to surface now, in the louder tone of his voice, and the way his expression was beginning to contort. But it would be brief, and he would not come to yelling at Moriarty, much as he wanted to. By chance, he glanced at the telly, then away again... only to do a double-take. Yes, that was his sister, Harriet, sitting and chatting amiably with a group of women. He didn't recognize them, but then, he couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. Swallowing hard, and subconsciously flexing his hand into a fist, then back again, at his side, he steps closer.]

What do you want?

You've really got to learn to contain that overblown stress reaction of yours! It's bad for the blood pressure, you know. It's a wonder you haven't keeled over of a heart attack by now, chasing Sherlock around.

[Harry was indeed having a lovely time. It was unclear whether the ladies were indulging in simple orange juice or champagne mimosas, though John might come to his own conclusions. A rather lovely blonde sitting next to her was flirting shyly with her, which might also be contributing to the seeming pleasantness of Harry's mood.

[Moriarty gestured elegantly towards John's chair, inviting him to have a seat.]

Sherlock's completely fine, he's off practising his best tricks to get a nice doggie biscuit. I have no intention of kidnapping you again, a real magician never does the same trick twice. I'm simply in the mood for a little visit, a brief calm before the storm.

[A grin forms on his face.]

It will make the finale all the more impressive to let off some of the tension first.

[See this face, Moriarty? John is not amused. Fortunately, his attention is on the telly and his sister, because he gives a lot more of a damn about her than he ever would about you. He has to make sure she's alright, but she really seems to be oblivious to anything unseemly that might be happening. He realizes this has to be a hidden sort of camera, surveillance, because she's not that good of an actress.

He narrows his eyes, considering not sitting, but Moriarty holds the shots. Slowly, stiffly, he takes a seat, tension clear in his shoulders. His rigid composure doesn't look to be going away anytime soon.]

Why are you visiting me, then? It's him you're interested in, isn't it? Why are you threatening my sister, to get to me? [Because it's obvious to him now that that's what he's doing. Just as he had snipers trained on himself and Sherlock once, now he's got Harry in his sights.]

Oh don't be such a fussbudget, she's fine too! I've arranged for her to be shown a good time, gossiping with old friends, getting to know new ones, all on my dime. I'm well aware that you inherited all of the sense of adventure in the family, the most heart-pounding activity they'll attempt is shopping for new shoes. That is, if she's feeling THAT wild and crazy today!

[John will have to suffer the piano-wire tight shoulder tension for both of them, then. Moriarty will do his part by looking as relaxed as a well-fed cat curled up on a comfy chair. He waves a hand in the air dismissively.]

I wouldn't call it "threatening" her. Does she seem afraid? I'm merely giving a demonstration of my current good intentions, a gesture of peace. I can be quite charming once you get to know me!

[John is far from comforted by Moriarty's words, however. It's clear that he could have his sister hurt, or get a bomb strapped to her chest, were he to put up some sort of fight. Clearly put off by Moriarty's casual tone and composure, his expression does not change. He watches Harry for a moment more, before slowly turning his attention back to the madman sitting across from him.

If John had never met Sherlock, he knew his sister would never be in any danger. Hell, he would have never been here, period - he would have still been in that pathetic, one-room bedsit. Chances are, he'd be depressed as ever... if still alive. Yes, thing had been that bad.

No, he does not regret meeting Sherlock, never for one second, even when he's being a dick, or his life is in danger. But it would have been nice if he'd been around to help in this particular situation.]

Charming. That's funny. [He smirks humorlessly.] Charming people don't strap bombs to other people, or dangle their sister's lives before their eyes.

Not quite!

[Moriarty crosses one leg over the other. He's making himself quite at home.]

Charming people don't HAVE to do those things to get what they want, but they can still choose to do so if it's more fun! Ahhh, I have so many options you see! It would be tragic if I didn't change things up regularly, don't you think?

[John snorts dryly. This is not your home, Moriarty, nor are you an invited guest.]

Sorry, but that's not called charming in my book, it's called being a psychopath. You know, if you really wanted to torture me, you could just shoot me in the foot instead of making me put up with this.

[John can't help it, he's really not too keen on any of this.]

Oh please, since when do I ever stoop to something so coarse and barbaric? Any street thug can shoot someone, any drooling idiot can dish out physical pain. If I'm going to bother doing anything it will be with the sort of unique panache a mere mortal could never hope to achieve!

[Jim smiles sweetly at John.]

After all, we only live once! Might as well make it count.

Right. You don't like to get your hands dirty, do you? Leave the footwork to one of your goons? [He smirks dryly again, watching the telly out of the corner of his eye to make sure everything is still fine. Nothing seems out of the ordinary at the brunch scene, however.]

You're not Sherlock Holmes. What makes you think you're so special? Or aren't you just a 'mere mortal' like the rest of us?

[Nope, nothing out of the ordinary. Unless you count a grown woman laughing hard enough to get some of her drink up her nose, which set off others laughing too.]

You're so adorable, did you know that? You're more dangerous and fiercely loyal than a well-trained German Shepherd and TWICE as cuddly. I think I'm beginning to understand what he sees in you!

[Yep, that sounds like Harry. John will just be trying to ignore the somewhat less than graceful antics of his sister.

Instead, he smiles tightly at Moriarty, refusing to be taunted.]

Let me get my gun - I'll show you just how cuddly I can be.

[Moriarty starts to laugh in flippant amusement]

Ah yes, run away and fetch your gun! Is that what you need to do in order to feel ADEQUATE to face a peaceful unarmed man? Your street thug intellect is showing, doctor~...

[Then he shifts abruptly to lean forward in his chair, still completely relaxed, voice pitched lower now.]

You really need a gun THAT big to compensate for your... physical inadequacies? Dear me, no wonder Sherlock hasn't bothered.

[John is really trying to continue acting like none of this is bothering, like Moriarty isn't getting under his skin. He's leaning forward a bit now, too, except his voice is more of an angry growl.]

First of all, peaceful? No, that is not the word I would use to describe you. Insane, yes. Secondly, not that I care anymore, but I'm not actually gay, and even if I was, I can assure you I have nothing to compensate for, thanks.

[He might have been short in stature, but he never left his lovers unsatisfied with well, anything.]

Ooh, your assurances have me quaking in my shoes! You've just weakened your case, you realise? Only the inadequate ones make SUCH a commotion insisting it's not so! The louder and more vehement your denial, the more you need to make up for!

[Moriarty shrugged, smiling in a mockingly apologetic sort of way.]

It makes perfect sense now that you can't keep a girlfriend. Not even a desperate woman would put up with someone THAT unsatisfying in bed. Oh, this little visit has been so informative I'm so glad I dropped in!

[John just smiled tightly, even though his hands flexed on the arms of his chair.]

You're not going to get me riled up, you know, and I'm not going to drop my pants to show you. I've got nothing to prove to you. You want to compare size, I can already tell you I've got bigger balls than you ever will because I do actually like to get my hands dirty. I'd shoot you were you sit, if I knew my sister wouldn't get hurt. It's bit cowardly of you, isn't it, showing you can hurt my family to try and keep me in line.

[And now Moriarty laughs in carefree delight, tilting his head back as he does.]

Well thank GOD for your self-restraint! Really now, John! The very thought! Is that the sort of place your mind wanders? Far be it from me to judge a man by perversions, but it's gone a bit beyond a discreet secret when you blurt it out like that in front of company.

[He shook his head slowly, laughter dying back to a humming grin.]

Ahh... let me assure you, I have no interest in what's in your pants. I might have been slightly intrigued by your offer, morbidly curious, if not for your track record. That entire flock of women can't ALL be wrong!

[Unfortunately, Moriarty's laughter only furthers to annoy the hell out of him. He really wishes it didn't, because it would make all of this so much easier. But this isn't the first time Moriarty has taunted him, and made his life a living hell. The first time was bad enough, getting kidnapped and having a bomb strapped to his chest - actually coming into his flat and trying to be all fucking polite and civil. British or not, John just couldn't take it any longer.

Maybe it was the insult on his manhood that did it. It was absolutely childish and immature, and he didn't want to rise to such petty bait. He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. But the next thing he knew, he was standing over Jim, his hands full, each a fist in the madman's suit jacket, most likely wrinkling it. He could care less.]

Don't even begin to flatter yourself into thinking I would ever be remotely interested in someone as insane as you!

[Moriarty's eyes lit up in glee at John's seizing him by the lapels. He always found it HILARIOUS when either John or Sherlock broke down and resorted to physical assault. It was SO amusing to watch their rage and desperation crush their self control when they KNEW it was useless and counterproductive. All Moriarty had to do was wait it out and watch the frustration grow in their eyes to unbearable levels. The Consulting Criminal didn't NEED to fight back to win. All he had to do is hold his arms out of the way and laaaaaugh at their foolishness.]

Oh my, John! How very forward of you! Such an animal display of aggression! So virile, so... MANLY! I SWOON at your feet!

[Unlike Sherlock, however, John was much more likely to actually resort to physical violence by way of a punch. He had much less control in that area than Sherlock, who had punched him that one time, yes, but apparently it was all part of the 'plan.' John wasn't going by any plan right now - he was really seeing red, thanks to Jim. He's breathing harder, and he hates that his pulse is racing, because he knows that means he's actually enjoying the excitement in this dangerous situation. He tightens his hold on Moriarty's lapels, bringing him up a bit closer to his face. He might be short, sure, but he's still got a great deal of upper body strength, thanks. John snarls the words quietly as he continues on - ]

If I were to strangle you, would something happen to Harry, hm? Or maybe you'd like that? Guy like you, I bet you're really into some sick things.

Edited 2013-04-22 03:43 (UTC)

[Any height disadvantage John might be used to dealing with is completely negated here, Moriarty is just as short as he is and not nearly as solidly built. John would have no trouble pulling Moriarty all the way to his feet and yanking him about any which way he pleased partly by virtue of the expertly fitted and solidly constructed suit jacket the villain wore.

[Off-balance, with shoulders hunched awkwardly, Moriarty still made no attempt to resist. He answered John's fierce growling with a cheerful lusty sing-song voice.]

Oh Honey, I'm into things so sick they don't even have NAMES! I love it when you get hot and bothered like this, you're SOOOoooo CUTE when you're mad!

the hate sex meme

I can never have enough Watsons! :D

hooray!

Here's hoping John doesn't carry his gun in his dressing gown!

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