Work Text:
Greg Lestrade was the best on the street with video games. This was until the fateful day that a punk named Sebastian Moran came to the street corner. A huge television wired from his flat, Lestrade had invented "street Playstation" quite successfully. He would bet and beat everyone on the street corner that came his way and soon quickly held the unbeatable title that everyone envied in the small villa.
No one could recall when Moran rolled in on his giant motorcycle, polluting the streets with one cigarette after another. What people do remember is how casually he sat next to Lestrade as if he owned the street, picked up the spare controller and stared at Lestrade until he relented and allowed Moran to play against him in a heated match of a racing game of some kind.
One after another they would alternatively win or lose to the point where it was hard to keep track of who had the most points than the other. “Tell you what,” Moran said before they set u the next game, throwing a cigarette into the street and lighting another in its place, smirking as Lestrade raised his eyes in inquiry, “lets make this a bit more interesting, shall we? Next winner takes all: the title of undefeated and gets to decide the fate of the loser.” After some consideration, Lestrade agreed to the deal, Sebastian grinned deviously and flicked away his final offending article and sat back. “Good. I’m looking forward to fucking you. Quite literally.”