Two are better than one;

[rule_britannia]

WHO: Arthur Kirkland and James Moriarty
TONE: General
RATING: G
WHEN: Night of November 30th
WHERE: Slytherin common room
WHAT: Two insomniacs walk into a dungeon...
STATUS: Ongoing

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It was another night of poor sleep for Arthur Kirkland, and the early hours found him awake and in the common room, sitting on the floor in front of the largest fireplace, trying very hard to turn a teapot into.. something else. His wand had always had this odd inclination to turning things into teapots, or things that resembled teapots, whenever he made an attempt at Transfiguration. His consistent refusal to admit to the possibility that he was actually the root of the problem and not his occasionally temperamental wand was one of his more obvious failings when it came to the class. It had only been through a lot of hard work that he'd been able to continue it past his fifth year.

Hard work and a hell of a lot of stubbornness on his part.

Arthur leaned back against the chair behind him, folded his arms across his chest and scowled at the teapot - which, upon closer inspection, actually also looked a little like a slipper - as if it had committed some grievous wrong against him. He set his wand down, rubbed both hands over his face and slumped.

"This is stupid," he grumbled.

Comments

[rule_britannia]

"That's a little harsh." But he shrugged and let it pass, letting out a low laugh at the next comments. "You know I'm always happy to provide entertainment for you, my friend."

Arthur let out a grunt and straightened himself up, shifting his cup to one hand to scrub the other through his hair. "I know I don't have to, but I shan't sleep if I go back to bed anyway. I might as well take advantage of some pleasant company while I'm awake."

Gilbert was his oldest friend but he could be far too noisy. Roderich had his moments, as did Fai, and Arthur simply couldn't stand Nathan.

"You know I'll assist you in any way I can when it comes to sleeping, but I find myself rather at a loss when I can barely regulate my own."

[ihaveanappforthat]

Moriarty gave him a strange look and blinked lazily. "Thank you," his accent was lazy, the words more rounded than usual but it seemed to be genuine.

The strange look stayed, even as he got the compliment and grinned rather flirtatiously. "Arthur, don't flirt too much, you might give someone the wrong impression."

He moved slightly to put his cup down before he got comfortable again, this of course was achieved by leaning against the other male. It was an odd gesture of trust, he was never one for touchy feely antics. Perhaps a gesture made awkward by the previous statement, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

[rule_britannia]

"I'm not flirting. If you're getting the wrong impression it's all on you."

Arthur never flirted on purpose, after all. Well, mostly never. What he got up to with Bruce Banner was more teasing than flirting and apparently he'd managed to do something to get Alfred's attention though he wasn't sure what it was. Moriarty's grin was returned with a small smirk of his own, and there was a small raise of one eyebrow as the other boy got comfortable against his shoulder.

It was little things like that, that made him think that Jim actually did see him as a friend, rather than simply someone to be possessed. Sometimes he just wasn't sure, but what he was sure of was that Jim put up with a lot more from him than he did from other people.

Of course, he was also very good at evading questions.

Arthur dropped his shoulder slightly to make it more comfortable, and leaned his head back, letting his eyes close. They probably made a bit of an odd picture.

[ihaveanappforthat]

"Pity," he muttered more to himself than to Arthur, but it was loud enough for him to hear.

It wasn't cuddling - Moriarty didn't cuddle - how ordinary would that be and too sentimental. He was cold and Arthur not only provided heat but a slight comfort Moriarty couldn't place his finger on, but it was familiarity. The boy he was comfortable on wouldn't hurt him, he knew that, quite the opposite, he always seemed to be there in a time of odd need, and he wondered if that was just the other's ordinary sense of right and wrong acting up.

Friends - items to be possessed; it went hand in hand. Sort of like a shiny new car. He wanted to protect him, keep him and let no one else ruin him because there was a sort of sociopathic fondness.

He moved closer and mumbled a small thanks, he wouldn't be able to sleep just yet but Arthur's relaxed state was oddly infectious.

[rule_britannia]

Not cuddling, certainly not. No matter how it might look to an onlooker - and to an onlooker it might look a lot like cuddling - that wasn't what it was. Arthur was tired, and comfortable, and though he often heard things about Jim and his behaviour and had received one or two warnings in the past about getting too comfortable around him, he did have faith - he trusted that his friend wouldn't hurt him.

Arthur knew his role in Jim's life, more or less. It wasn't one he had set out to occupy, but rather had slipped into over the years, and he was content in it. He saw Moriarty as a friend. What Jim saw him as.. well, that was much more complicated.. but Jim had never really been one for sharing.

"You're welcome," he muttered quietly back, letting out a slow, relaxed sigh and following it up with a soft yawn. He could feel himself ready to drift off, but something was stopping him.