Fic: Live Stream
Title: Live Stream
Author: Jim_in_Westwood
Summary: Someone asked in another fic if there was sex. Well...yes,.Jim figures a live broadcast will clear that up.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1400
Warnings: Slash, Jim's bad language, rough play in bed.
Pairings: Jim/ Sebastian
Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me, not a single one of them!
Author’s note: This is just a quickie, as it were. Haven’t written any Jim/ Sebastian in awhile, but this does follow along with my other fics. Also...this turned out to be more comedy than I'd intended.
There is sex. My friends, there is definitely sex. I do terrible things. I demand people do terrible things to me.
And then I make them do all the washing up, and sometimes I make them rub my feet. Sometimes I make them lick the various toys clean. Obviously, they still have to disinfect them later.
I don’t pay for it, which I’m sure is absolutely no surprise to you. Do I seem like the type who has to pay for it? Um, no? There are many, and most of them bleed, and some of them cry, and some of them get to come back. Some of them get to come.
I am Jim Moriarty, the world’s only consulting criminal, and I’m typing this while Sebastian Moran is slowly massaging the backs of my thighs. Let’s see how well spell check can keep up, because I’m doing this live for you, everyone. This is 87 fucking words per minute, people, directly to Livejournal. Top that, Sherlock Holmes, while Dr. Watson has you flat on your back at Baker Street.
He’s biting the back of my calf, which isn’t, strictly speaking, a sensual feeling. It hurts like the very devil, but I don’t give him any reaction at all. This is not unusual. I’m not exactly going to give him what he wants right away. What Sebastian wants is noise. He wants to get sounds out of me, all sorts of sounds. He’s not entirely picky, though he likes them to get louder as the evening progresses. He’s gripping my right ankle in his right hand and gives a quick bite to the back of my knee. That’s a sudden jolt and while I don’t make a single sound, my left foot just connected with the side of his head.
Oh, sorry, lost the phone there a moment. He pulled me down to him by the ankle and flipped me, and the damn thing went flying. I’m typing this one handed, holding the phone behind his head while he kisses down my throat. Good thing I don’t need to see what I’m writing, because there’s nothing I like better than his teeth practically meeting in the skin of my shoulder. It’s sort of like melting a bit. He growls at me, still biting, knowing that he’s making a great dark mark that no one will ever see but him. He likes that, secret marks from whips and teeth. I told him once I could be a sex locket for him. He didn’t get it.
To be honest, when we weren’t in the heat of the moment anymore, I didn’t quite get it either, but it was meaningful and passionate at the time. Make of that what you will. (Always remember what you say at moments of great sexual frenzy. If you don’t, others will remind you of the stupid things you’ve said. It’s better to beat them to the punch. Free tip.) God, his teeth are strong and picturing the marks that are going to form hieroglyphs down my neck and along my shoulder gives me the sort of thrill that just made me type seven ‘h’s in a row. I backspace while we kiss.
I bite his lip to give him a little taste of his own medicine. He’s already an addict, and he kneels up to pull his shirt off. I should really just snap a picture to post along with this because that is a chest of distinction. He’s so blond and just a bit tan, but his coloration lends itself to a pretty flush. I’d love to pinch both of his nipples, but, obviously, one of my hands is rather busy, so I content myself with pinching the left one really hard. I use my nails. I can see him tightening his jaw, which makes me squeeze harder. No sound from him except a final muttered “Quit it” before he knocks me onto my back again.
The bed’s got a pillowtop and is softer than is probably good for a person’s back, but I like to really sink into bed at night. Even as soft as it is, he’s good at knocking the wind out of me when he tosses me down. That’s probably not so good for the spine anyway, but one of these days I’ll have time to see my chiropractor again anyway. He’s retaliating now (Moran, not my chiropractor), teeth on my chest through my shirt. He likes to bite the buttons off; sometimes I make him swallow them. Little punishments are very effective. He slides one arm around my back to pull me up against him. Which is fine by me; I push my hips against his.
Ha-ha, I’ve just clubbed him in the back of the head with the phone accidentally. I think it’s turned him on more. Bit of a lovely sound, I’ll admit.
BRB, need to put the phone down to get my jacket and shirt off.
Alrighty, back. I’m not letting him take my trousers off yet, but he’s taking his off. Completely bare, he’s quite a sight. Really, this is what you all would love a picture of. As I consider, the chest was nice, but it’s the cock that really is an “of distinction” body part. He stretches; cheeky bastard knows he looks good. Knows he shoots like no one else, knows he can make me scream. I despise false modesty. If someone’s good, I like them to-
Nevermind, action continues.
He grips my hip quite hard, insistently. He communicates through touch the most; I know his tightening fingers mean he wants his mouth on my cock. Since our desires happen to coincide, I nod, gracing him with a little smile.
“You’d better swallow this time,” I say cheerily.
Ha-ha! This is what he just said:
“Well, I had intended not to even let you come, Boss.”
I could just kiss him. I slap his face, open palm, just to see the red blossom in his cheek. He turns his head quickly and just barely catches my fingertip between his teeth. I claw at his lip and he grunts softly, leaning down to kiss my mouth. I can taste the blood from his lip. Salty, like a chocolate with sea salt caramel. Coppery, metallic. I lick it off his front tooth delicately.
Oh, now he won’t let me kiss him. He also just asked if I had to keep writing this. I told him to get his mouth busy. That’s much much better. Yeah…tongue…teeth…damn, his throat is long, and I don’t think he has a gag reflex. Lovely! I just took a picture of him like that. Maybe I’ll upload it later. Show of hands, who wants to see it?
Oh God! Yeah, that caught me by surprise a bit! Hold on.
Yeah, he’s big. Very very big, a cock to be reckoned with. He lubed up with some mint thing he sometimes uses to rub my back. I’m basically being aromatherapied from the inside out. It’s a nice smell really. And he’s just insatiable! I hope I don’t drop the phone. I’ve just bitten the shit out of his shoulder. We’ll see who has more marks in the morning. He’s knocking my head against this bloody expensive headboard. Good thing typing is more natural to me than breathing.
Wait a moment. I love this bit and I don’t want to get distracted. I think his hand really does go all the way around my neck.
This is Sebastian. Jim really can’t use the fucking phone right now, because I’m shagging him raw, alright? He’s moaning like a girl at the moment. Fuck off.
Sorry! Sorry! This is Jim again! He grabbed the phone while I was light-headed. Unfortunately, you’ve missed all the really good bits. To make it up to you all, maybe I will post these pictures. Also, I came all over his pillow, ha-ha! I have a severely put out sniper to deal with at the moment, so I’d probably better go. Ciao!