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'I can see why he likes you,' the Irishman croons as he circles around the chair he's tied to, dragging his hand over Greg's shoulders. 'The handsome, silver-haired detective from Scotland Yard — any man would want a taste of that,’ his fingers brush past his jawline, his thumb and index fingers ending up by his chin, forcing Greg to look up into Jim Moriarty’s black eyes. ‘His delicious, delightful, dishevelled police dog — who wouldn’t want to have a go at him?’

The man leans forwards, a crooked, dreamy smile spreading his thin lips. Greg is more than aware about what’s going on, noticing how the Irish man eyes his lips, his tongue flicking out to moist his own.

'Hmmmm — who wouldn’t want to have a taste of that,’ he repeats softly, their eyes meeting, Moriarty’s dark brown’s peering through the slits of his eyelids, Greg’s own chocolate browns wide with fear.

Moriarty’s lips are upon his within a blink of the eye (although Greg had been too terrified to blink at all) The Irishman is sucking on his lip, and Greg struggles against the kiss, an angry frown on his brow. He’s had more than enough of this. He returns the kiss, but only so he can fight against Moriarty’s lips, managing to sink his teeth into the short man’s lips, causing him to hum and pull back. But the man isn’t even bothered by Greg’s act of defence, even though his lip is bleeding.

'You know how to use those canines, detective inspector,' Moriarty croons as he brushes his thumb over his lower lip, sticking it in his mouth to lap the blood off. Greg tries as best as he can to keep his eyes fixed on Moriarty's, but he's very much aware of the sudden presence of the bulge in the man's trousers.

'Oh, he certainly does,' a familiar voice sounds from behind Greg, and he turns his head to fast, he could nearly feel his neck crack. He knows that voice, and a rush of relieve fills his veins.

Has he come by himself? Or is there a team of armed police waiting to storm the building any second now?

A weak smile appears on his lips as he looks at Moriarty, who, to his surprised, doesn’t seem too bothered by the presence of the third person. But the smile was wiped off his face when he heard Mycroft speak again:

'You haven't started without me, have you James?'