A darkness had settled over Jim Moriarty already. Job stress, call it that. He was in a suit, he was in character and he was practically vibrating with frustrations. More than that, he was overcome with anticipation to release this stress on his favourite little plaything. Birthday. Any excuse. But he was going to use him as a scratching-post today.
Slowly, painfully and in all the ways he knew John Watson secretly wanted.
When he slammed through the door to the flat, his eyes were a storm. Searching darkly and with all of the electricity of his aggravations, for John. He was already stripping off his jacket and tie at the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. He probably stopped at the door for all of a minute, tapping his finely polished shoes on the floor. Clip clip clip clip clip. Where-oh where-oh where is Watson?
And then he was off again, moving out of the hall to find him. Somehow he managed to control himself enough to hum (in a frighteningly sadistic manner) the happy-birthday song. Such a twisted, minor tone to it, because internally, Jim Moriarty was picturing every debauched, perverse thing he wanted to do to John. Picturing every bruise and scar and cut and scratch he would leave on the man. A walking signature of everything wrong with him.
This was truly mind numbing. Or melting. It wasn’t that he felt forced, he only felt like he couldn’t seem to manage to do it right. He wanted to please the other so much that it felt near impossible to figure out how to do it right when it was his first time at it all. He knew how to please women, feel their legs curl to him, but this was different in everything. Maybe it was because of it that John wanted it so much more then he had ever wanted any woman.
The feel of Jim’s member. But it was only a moment at his attempts before the other spoke in that voice that could stop his heart and nearly did between that and the sweet touch. Sweet touch that turned to the sudden tug, making him move away and wince to look up at the other, slowly guiding him up to face him and the distance closing in between them.
If there was any question at all at John’s own arousal over all of this, that changed as soon as Jim spoke again. He could only open his mouth agasp and let himself be pulled to his feet and led to the couch, where his knees gave out and he fell into the cushions. He truly couldn’t find words, but he did feel himself straining against his trousers. He helped moved from his jumper and the rest of his clothes, his eyes wide and dark as he looked at the other man. But it was the sight of him when he got out of those clothes, between his legs that seemed a bit to much. Luckily, he was being held there and still or he might have tried something again.
His eyes fluttered from the kisses, the nips and everything else left on him. How could they not? Jim was doing a far better job at all of this then he had been, that was for sure. His eyes were open though to see that smile. He had known what was coming when he had felt the other undo his trousers, but now, he knew it was here. The tug made his head snap back, his mouth opening slightly while he squirmed the fabric away, desperate to get some breathing space from it.
“Jim, please.” He made himself snap his head back to the other. After all, he was in that place to learn. Last thing he needed was to upset the other by not making sure to take note and learn from it.
There was obvious pleasure in Jim’s face, just from reducing John to such an obvious mess. But he straightened his features out to look authoritative, powerful, in-control.
"Sir," he corrected. “‘Sir, please’…" That smile didn’t leave his face though, as serious as he was, there was that crooked smile that remained. He definitely got some perverted kick out of being in control, out of taking this man over and having power over every aspect of him. "And no. This is on my terms.
"Now, you are going to sit there, and you can scream to the almighty heavens, but if you move, if you even flinch I will stop,” his words spoke with that same poisonous intensity that could take over a room without being louder than a whisper. He radiated control, and he stared John straight in the eyes as he spoke. And then without warning, his hand was wrapped around John’s cock.
He moved at a relentless pace, and then his lips started to move, trailing hot languid kisses along the inside of his thighs, getting closer and closer to where he really wanted it.
Dear god, this was just awkward, wasn’t it? John was silently cursing at the fact he hadn’t had more experience with men. And his first was with his boss. At least he could have used some common knowledge. Damn, what Jim must think of him. Offering and then just, not good.
But when the kiss was parted and Jim spoke up, John’s face went into deep shades of red. “I really don’t know if I really can,” he mumbles, shaking his head, his eyes closing and a bit of defeat in his voice. He grit his teeth ever so slightly and took in a deep breath. Why was this so bloody hard?
He paused for a long moment, his hand stopping its grasping. He shook his head, a frustrated growl leaving him. There was always one option. Slowly, he let his hand move up once more, undoing the other’s pants. His fingers moved over the other’s skin, the little exposed by doing so before finally ignoring his pounding heart and moved to kiss at that skin, down to the other’s boxers, letting his mouth move and try to get an idea of the other. More surely, he moved and mouthed the other through the fabric, a bit teasingly.
Jim could have laughed. Thought he might have. Wasn’t quite sure if it was in his head or he had actually laughed out loud in front of the man. Oh well, what did it matter. He was walking a thin line between amusement and boredom — if Johnny didn’t get good soon, he would cannonball into complete disinterest.
He was adorable when he blushed. Truly. But it didn’t do anything for the fact that this felt like blackmail and entrapment and non-consensual and everything else. Jim was a facilitator, rarely directly involved in crime. It was his distance that kept him safe, but in essence, he was crime.
John’s hands fumbled at Jim’s trousers, undoing the belt, the zip. Fingers tracing the soft flesh there. His cock twitched when John’s lips wrapped around it. But fuck. This was taking far too long.
He inhaled that sweet scent of a pounding heart. Of nerves and fear and lust. Wasn’t it delicious?
"Don’t embarrass yourself," he said, and there was darkness curling in the undertones of his voice while his curled finger slipped to stroke the slight stubble of John’s cheek, before his hand wrapped around the back of his head. Entangling fingers in his hair, and he tugged him back, guiding him up towards Jim as far as his own height would allow, and then Jim closed in the gap. Leaving only an inch of space between them.
His voice came slowly, hot breath, serpentine, slipping seductively between them, “let daddy show you how it’s done…”
Moriarty let the words hang in the air before he stood, hands still pulling John by his hair and leading him to his feet before he pushed him back onto the couch. He let his jacket slip from his shoulders throwing it over the seat he had been in before; he grabbed the end of John’s jumper, pulling it off over his head, stripping him until his chest was exposed and then he slid between John’s legs, holding himself with a firm grip on the man’s shoulders. Leaving languid little kisses and nips and licks down his neck and chest and stomach, leading him down towards where his hands were working on undoing his trousers.
He stared up John, knelt on the ground, one last toothy, crooked grin before he pulled down his trousers and boxers in one teasing tug.
[text] Well someone has to keep an eye out for you. -SM
[text] See, it’s still beneficial to have me around. -SM
[text] I didn’t say having you around wasn’t beneficial, just that I am capable of functioning when you’re not around -JM
[text] You might have been doing fine before I came along, but if it were better back then, you’d get rid of me in no time. Or am I mistaken? -SM
[text] Except I hired you as a sniper, not a nanny.-JM
[text] and it’s easier to keep you in reserve instead of hiring out whoever’s available for a job at the time -JM
[text] Are we seriously going to have this debate again? -SM
[text] If you fee like losing it again, by all means -JM
[text] I told you already - I don’t have a death wish. -SM
[text] Besides, who would take care of you if I was gone? -SM
[text] You know, funny enough, Moran, I did alright before you were around -JM
[text] I know you do. -SM
[text] You remind me of that daily. -SM
[text] Why won’t you just do this one thing for me? -JM
[text] Whining? -SM
[text] If I remember correctly, it you the one who whines all the time about boredom. -SM
[text] And I’m not going to let you burn me just so you’d be entertained. -SM
[text] I hate you -JM