It took time to deal with assignations such as this. Moriarty had every hotel camera in the lobby and every floor on his cell phone set to go on the fritz, every time he passed. The offer to come play was a particularly nice victory, but he wasn't about to let his ego mar the occasion. While he was sure Sherlock had thought of every thing he could, he probably hadn't figured Mycroft into the equation. The snooping Iceman had the damnable talent for showing up when he least wanted him to and throwing him off the trail was rather taxing at best
( ... )
As the moment of their meeting time drew ever closer, he couldn't pull his gaze from the clock. His thoughts were invariably pulled to what they would get up to if Jim indulged him, the mere thought of being at his mercy again making his heartbeat jump in tempo and his respiratory rate turn to something shallow and shaky. This was so much worse than any of his other addictions, having always had his stash of chemical help that he was certain would be there. This, though, he had to rely on someone else, and someone who liked toying with him to boot, so there was no surety. It was the most exquisite torture to wait for him to arrive, already feeling anxious and more than ready to get his fix
( ... )
Well, that non-answer was not so much surprising as it was interesting. "Of course." He poured himself a Scotch and sipped delicately at it, carefully assessing Sherlock's current state. It was heady business to see the other man so unnerved. Finding the nearest chair, he sat down with care, preferring not to sit on the bed right away as that probably would send poor Sherlock scurrying away. Still, the other man had taken the initiative of pursuing him. It was time to return the favor.
He loosened his tie slowly before taking another sip. "You know ...I think we should skip the formalities. I mean where does one go from full on frottage?" Merely rhetorical, he urged Sherlock closer.
Sherlock followed Jim's movements with his eyes over the lip of his glass as he quickly drained it. He continues to simply watch as Jim finds a seat, setting his empty glass down and pausing momentarily as Jim speaks of skipping the preliminaries.
He nods his assent, slowly moving to close the distance between them until he's standing over him, barely a foot away. Just the scent of his cologne is enough to increase his excitement, emboldened a bit by the thrill of it enough to reach forward and finish removing Jim's tie for him. He tosses it aside before moving his hands to unbutton his own suit jacket and throw it to one side as well.
"Haven't the faintest." he admitted, though the edge to his voice was more enticed by that fact than anything. In this situation, he had no idea what to expect, and that alone was completely engaging for him.
He looks in Sherlock's unguarded expression and sees it. Sees what he's been waiting for. What Moriarty has already learned and that there are times when letting go and letting carnal is the only thing to soothe an ever running mind such as theirs. Finally, he could get into it and relish the feel of Sherlock's cock shoving into him at an ever increasing pace.
"That's right Sherlock. Fuck daddy." Soon after saying it, he shudders into the fist with careless abandon. Close but not yet and latches onto the other man's bottom lip with his teeth to keep him near. Suckling on the sweat and saliva gathering, he takes it in, rolling it around his tongue and savoring the taste.
Had Sherlock ever fathomed that this was something that could quiet his frenetic mind, he would have engaged in it eons ago. As it was, he'd only ever felt this way at the height of his drug addiction, reveling in what precious few moments the drugs finally made all the chatter in his head stop. This was far more healthy an addiction, or it would be if it wasn't with his arch enemy. Though, everything Sherlock got addicted to was dangerous, so maybe this had always been inevitable.
He grunts softly at Jim's directive, snapping his hips faster with each moment in a way that made him shudder in the pleasure of it all. His eyelids flicker closed with a moan as Jim attacks his lip, pulling him off unevenly as he drove into him harder and faster. "Nn, Jim." he moans his name into the kiss, the taboo nature of it only heightened when he reminded himself just whom it was he was fucking with increasing roughness.
Letting go of the bedsheets, he reached between to help Sherlock with the stroking of his cock with one hand while the other tugged unmercifully at one of the man's nipples, testing his threshold for other proclivities.
Like any good dealer, a little taste goes a long way. But then Moriarty was only good when he wanted to be, shifting his legs downward, he hooked them around, spurring Sherlock on to come as fast and as hard as he could. Any moment, he would too and coming together would be the pièce de résistance he thought, laughing in loud hiccups hardly appropriate for the moment. Then again that was the benefits of being him. At least Sherlock got that by now.
Every little sound and movement of Jim's succeeded in pushing Sherlock into a state of wanton abandon, all of his unease dissolving with every passing second. This was far too good to feel guilty about, and he pushed any thoughts of that nature from his head easily with how clear and tranquil his mind was at the moment.
Jim's assisting hand was something he needed then, concentrating all his energy on the snapping of his hips. He couldn't stifle a cry of pleasure when Jim toyed with his nipple, each pinch seeming to electrify his skin with heady desire. Jim's urging him forward had him readily complying, choked gasps sounding from his lips as Jim's laughter rang in his ears. His fingernails bit into Jim's hip as an unbridled shout was torn from his throat when he found his release, shuddering violently as the perfect sensation rattled his entire being, both mind and body, in a way he never anticipated.
There's be plenty of time to 'cuddle' he supposed, after. It wasn't really his thing unless cuddling was defined as being pinned down until the 'crazy train' in his ind quieted, usually involving Moran and and a ton of restraints. But it wasn't for nothing that he knew how to read people, especially Sherlock. If he wanted to hold on for a bit longer, he would tolerate and even manage not to squirm too much.
Five minutes was appropriate enough time, he figured. Within seconds he was up and dragging Sherlock along to the shower. There was plenty that they could get up to in the shower, but he wasn't about to clue him if he didn't know already.
"Consider it intermission?" He added before opening the shower glass door. The stall was enormous with several nozzles for only god knows what.
Sherlock panted hard in the aftermath, collapsing on top of him and shuddering slightly in the aftershocks. He pulled back and curled into Jim's side, letting his eyes fall shut as he traced his fingers over the contours of Jim's torso with his fingers.
His eyes blinked open blearily when Jim is dragging him up again, willing lethargic limbs to follow him to the shower. He nods dumbly to Jim's words, still a bit dazed, but following him without question into the shower, looking forward to watching the water cascading over Jim's naked form.
He's turning on every shower head, flitting around as if a hundred million ideas were popping into his head simultaneously. So much to do to, so much fun to be had. It's almost cliche, but who cares he grins and begins soaping up his hands and coming closer to Sherlock as he stands there getting wet too.
"Against the wall would be lovely. Thanks." Without waiting, he starts nudging his somewhat quieter partner towards the stone wall in the center.
Sherlock follows Jim's movements with his eyes, shivering slightly at all the possible scenarios running through his head already. He nods and does as directed, willing still sluggish limbs to comply when he was still feeling the post-sex lethargy. He sighs as he leans back against the wall, letting the water wash over him and leaving his arms hanging at his sides as a gesture of being open to whatever Jim's plans were.
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He loosened his tie slowly before taking another sip. "You know ...I think we should skip the formalities. I mean where does one go from full on frottage?" Merely rhetorical, he urged Sherlock closer.
Reply
He nods his assent, slowly moving to close the distance between them until he's standing over him, barely a foot away. Just the scent of his cologne is enough to increase his excitement, emboldened a bit by the thrill of it enough to reach forward and finish removing Jim's tie for him. He tosses it aside before moving his hands to unbutton his own suit jacket and throw it to one side as well.
"Haven't the faintest." he admitted, though the edge to his voice was more enticed by that fact than anything. In this situation, he had no idea what to expect, and that alone was completely engaging for him.
Reply
"That's right Sherlock. Fuck daddy." Soon after saying it, he shudders into the fist with careless abandon. Close but not yet and latches onto the other man's bottom lip with his teeth to keep him near. Suckling on the sweat and saliva gathering, he takes it in, rolling it around his tongue and savoring the taste.
Reply
He grunts softly at Jim's directive, snapping his hips faster with each moment in a way that made him shudder in the pleasure of it all. His eyelids flicker closed with a moan as Jim attacks his lip, pulling him off unevenly as he drove into him harder and faster. "Nn, Jim." he moans his name into the kiss, the taboo nature of it only heightened when he reminded himself just whom it was he was fucking with increasing roughness.
Reply
Like any good dealer, a little taste goes a long way. But then Moriarty was only good when he wanted to be, shifting his legs downward, he hooked them around, spurring Sherlock on to come as fast and as hard as he could. Any moment, he would too and coming together would be the pièce de résistance he thought, laughing in loud hiccups hardly appropriate for the moment. Then again that was the benefits of being him. At least Sherlock got that by now.
Reply
Jim's assisting hand was something he needed then, concentrating all his energy on the snapping of his hips. He couldn't stifle a cry of pleasure when Jim toyed with his nipple, each pinch seeming to electrify his skin with heady desire. Jim's urging him forward had him readily complying, choked gasps sounding from his lips as Jim's laughter rang in his ears. His fingernails bit into Jim's hip as an unbridled shout was torn from his throat when he found his release, shuddering violently as the perfect sensation rattled his entire being, both mind and body, in a way he never anticipated.
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Five minutes was appropriate enough time, he figured. Within seconds he was up and dragging Sherlock along to the shower. There was plenty that they could get up to in the shower, but he wasn't about to clue him if he didn't know already.
"Consider it intermission?" He added before opening the shower glass door. The stall was enormous with several nozzles for only god knows what.
Reply
His eyes blinked open blearily when Jim is dragging him up again, willing lethargic limbs to follow him to the shower. He nods dumbly to Jim's words, still a bit dazed, but following him without question into the shower, looking forward to watching the water cascading over Jim's naked form.
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"Against the wall would be lovely. Thanks." Without waiting, he starts nudging his somewhat quieter partner towards the stone wall in the center.
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