precisionfocus | < It's Christmastime in the city ... >

< It's Christmastime in the city ... >

"James!" Sebastian called as he shut the penthouse door. "Can't snag the manual lock right now." The electronic lock, at least, clicked as the heavy door shut behind him. Fingerprint scan, voice recognition, electronic access card, and physical key. His first impression of the expansive flat James Moriarty owned had been that its owner was highly paranoid. "We're having steaks," he announced as he carried his several bags of groceries to the kitchen. "Or I am. You can order in, but that's what I'm making. What you get for not giving me any grocery list when I asked."

He was used to talking to himself. James often either left without telling him or barricaded himself in his study for his work or else just decided not to answer. If it were one of the first two, James would see and hear it when he reviewed the security tapes. Sebastian put away the food he had bought, and he heard the manual lock turn and click.

James was in the penthouse, at the very least.

December first meant he had worked for James Moriarty for seven months. He had lived with him for six months. The last week of last April had found his cellphone ringing. The voice on the phone had confirmed he was Sebastian Moran and set up an appointment to meet with him the next day. Shady as Hell, but an Army vet trying to make ends meet and no income save his pension could not afford to ask too many questions. But James's business proposal had been entirely satisfactory.

As Sebastian left the kitchen, he heard a quiet sound he had previously dismissed as coming from outside increase. Now, he heard it specifically from the concealed speakers that littered the penthouse. 'With the dawn of redeeming grace...'

"Christmas?"

Of course, he knew the holiday was fast approaching. His mother had called him just this morning, asking if his employer would give him Christmas off. She had encouraged him to ask. If he was free, she insisted he try and bring James to meet the family. She had no idea that James was both the 'James' he spoke highly of and implied he was in a relationship with and the 'Mister Moore' he worked for. From 'Moore' to 'Moriarty' was a small step, but it was enough to make the alias effective. He had also passed a few pounds to a charity. Still, he had not expected this man to acknowledge the holiday, let alone play traditional, religious Christmas music in his home.

"Lovely recording of the song, though."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sebastian smirked at the sight of the other man. The second strike only confirmed it. This was war.

And Sebastian was a soldier.

He left off his attentions to himself. One hand went down, stripping James of his briefs, touching him as little as possible. The clothes discarded, he wrapped his hand around James's cock snugly and drew his grip up slowly. The pad of his thumb grazed then rubbed the head before he withdrew it entirely.

The sniper remained over James, straddling him, but there was enough room that to arch up to bring contact between their bodies, James would have to sacrifice the steadiness he needed to deliver blows with the bent belt. Sebastian licked his lips.

James didn't cry out or quiver at Sebastian's touch. A cool, steady moan left him and a slow stretch rippled through him - fluid and calm. His eyes continuously fixed on Sebastian - only drifting down now to watch the sniper's hand on his prick.

His grip on the belt loosened and flexed - he wanted to dominate Sebastian Moran; it was true he was the stronger of the two, the more agile, quicker even, but James was the brain, the balance, the control. Nobody got to him, not without his say-so; he could twist them around his finger without so much as looking at them.

He wanted so badly to close the small space between their bodies and fill it with clawing and biting, furious contact and long drawn out shudders of climax. He wanted to shred Sebastian to bits and reassemble him amongst the sheets afterwards.

Christ. James huffed out a breath when the man's tongue darted out along his lips, the mastermind looked ...flustered. Hungry.

The fingers of his free hand went scratching and digging along the skin on the bone of Sebastian's hip, attempting to coax him closer. Just a bit closer.

The belt was not yet forgotten.

Sebastian leaned in, well aware another strike or two of the belt was likely to follow, especially as he palmed the length of James's cock without really seeing to it, doing nothing that could come close to satisfying. His other hand, firm but easy right now, ran across James's thigh, fingers skirting inward with an almost caress, as if there weren't nails digging into his hip.

"I wonder," he murmured, chuckling low in his throat and speaking sweetly, "if I can make you beg."

He stroked the prick in his hand, curling his fingers around as he slowly rubbed. He knew every word would be repaid, but damn it would be fun. Even just for James's reaction now.

"Get you so worked up you're pleading for me to get off in you."

Cards on the table, he knew he was more likely to crack than James... but it was something to imagine. And the attempt would be worth it in itself.

Laughter bubbled up in his throat. It wasn't light, but dark; much too cruel and mirthful for a man pinned down. Somewhere a few blocks away, a child started crying.

His fingers curled around Sebastian's side, skating up the still-slightly tanned skin to coil behind his neck and wind in his hair. His hair was getting longer, James noted. Perhaps a trim would be due soon.

"Well I know how you love testing my patience," he murmured as the end of the giggling died down. His voice dampened into a soft groan as his hips shifted ever so slightly against Sebastian's loose grip, moving against him.

The belt went missed - not drastically needed - from James's other hand as it snaked up to join the other. Non-too gently he tugged Sebastian down the last few inches to suck on his tongue.

He still planned on using it to tie Sebastian's hands to the headboard. This was just currently demanding more of his attention and he wouldn't begrudge dear Sebastian that.

"James." The word was breathed when he was pulled down. The lips on his were always welcome. He kissed James back, letting his tongue be pulled into James's mouth.

Sebastian pushed his hand up to curl his fingers around the other man's side. His other hand slid around that prick, rubbing one side while he arched slightly to rub his length against James's. The word he'd said before came back to him, and he almost laughed into the kiss.

Anything.

Yes. Anything. Anything for James.

Whether professional or personal. God above if he cared. He deepened the kiss, rubbing a few more times as his eyes temporarily slid shut.

A quiet intake of breath -- not quite a gasp, not so urgent as that ... but close as he felt the way Sebastian pulsed against him. It was delicious. Suddenly James's plans to immobilize his hands - tie them to the headboard with that belt; leather cutting into skin. His plans to get him off slowly and languorously while he couldn't touch anything or change the game, could only lie back and let James do what he would...suddenly that all seemed a much higher priority with the kiss that bordered on violent and calm and the feel of Sebastian's cock sliding against his.

His hips bucked once to rub a bit harder. Twice as he spoke to Sebastian's lips. "Roll over on your back." His teeth ran against the sniper's cheek, mouthing the skin there.

"Now," he growled.

"Anything you say," he muttered, drawing back and up, bringing his hand along James's length once more before he got off the man. For now, there was compliance. Then again, he'd said the fatal words earlier tonight, too. And dangerous as they were... he didn't regret them in the slightest.

Off James, he finishing obeying and rolled over, lying on the bed on his back.

James smiled in that hideously smug fashion he seemed to hold exclusively to his own person before drawing up to meet Sebastian. He didn't copy his dear hitman's position he previously held, but sat between his legs with his arousal plain and regretfully ignored for the moment. But it'd be worth it.

Very slowly his fingernails drew up over Sebastian's hipbone where he left tiny red marks from moments before. He pressed a little harder than the feather-light strokes he'd been applying on the skin of his thigh going toward that particular spot. He continued to trail the sharp edge of his nails up his stomach, up his chest, and up to wrap his talon fingers around Sebastian's throat and he gave a light squeeze while wrapping his lips around the man's right nipple and laving it with his tongue.

Sebastian gave soft, quiet mutters as those nails moved up his body. Small pinpricks, never enough to draw blood. Not this time, at least. James had, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not, cut him with those nails. Sharp pressure that mixed pleasure and pain.

Then James had his hands on his throat. Sebastian overruled his first instincts to struggle. The very first time it had happened, he'd worried. By now, he knew James could and would control himself. Sebastian had long since accepted that he was safest like this-- in private with James.

The feel of those lips brought a groan from Sebastian, and he curled a hand around James's side.

He grinned against Sebastian's skin - still a little darker than it should be; Afghanistan clung to the man still and his mouth drifted with surprising delicacy against the three scars marring the fine muscle of his chest. Each one dotted with a slow, lazy kiss as he meandered his way down to Sebastian's stomach. He stuck his tongue into his belly button, a sharp jab with a cackle.

His fingers still lingered on Sebastian's lovely throat, his thumb rubbing up against the hard line of the tendon that supported his head. They were loose though, as he placed open mouthed kisses with scraping teeth against the inside of his left thigh.

James tongue suddenly drew just across the tip of his cock very slowly before he slithered back up the expanse of Sebastian's torso to hiss: "Hands," roughly into his ear. The belt link clicked loosely in his hand as his fingers slipped around and through the metal.

Sebastian-- for just a moment-- stopped breathing when those lips were on the three scars there. Attention to any other wounds of his brought groans and chuckles, but those... The memories were still too fresh, and he still remembered the sight of a man standing over him with an automatic, the barrel pointed between his eyes. He could remember the silent, hopeless moments of just waiting for those bullets.

But the attention moved, and he let out the breath. He moaned briefly at the application of James's tongue, and half chuckled at the sudden whisper in his ear.

"Hm?"

"Hands, you ape," he says it clipped and fine with his forehead pressed hard against Sebastian's. There was still a heavy measure of lust in his voice. His fingers went about snaring Sebastian's left wrist, dragging the finely muscled arm up above Sebastian's head and bringing it to rest on a space close to the slats in the headboard.

"One wrist over the other, there's a good chap."

He really couldn't help rubbing his prick against the muscle at his lower stomach either, purring into the snipers ear as he did.

Sebastian groaned slightly at the feel, and he complied, bringing his right wrist to where James wanted it. He could only imagine what was in store for him, but he wasn't going to fight it. Not yet, certainly. Perhaps in a bit, there would be cause to struggle... but for now...

God. He hardly cared about anything with that rubbing, and his own cock twitched a bit from his quickly growing wants.

He moved quickly. Wrapped the belt around his wrists diagonally so they'd cut into his wrists just enough to remind him they were there. James did the clasp nice and tight, plenty of length off the end. Enough to tug at. His fingers trailed down his arm and went to Sebastian's chin.

"Mmm, you even try to get yourself free before I say so and I'll make you bleed tonight."

His thumb flicked around the edge of Sebastian's lips, feeling the heat under the callouses there and he smiled. "I might just do it anyways...," his nail curved under the shape of Sebastian's lower lip, simply moving over space. Teasing him.

"Kinky son of a bitch."

...Yet, the words were said with some fondness. Or something like it. He tilted his head back and raised it slightly, as if to seek a kiss. He knew better, really, but it was fun even just to try. To give James that much more incentive, to enjoy the loss of control. He didn't like it often, and he knew he'd hate it by the end of this...

But damn it was always fun.

Sebastian gave a slight, experimental move of his wrists, just to see how tightly they were done. No surprise there. He licked his lips at feeling the edge of the belt cut into his skin.

This was going to be a long night.

"You're just getting that now?"

He cooed and tugged a bit at the excess of leather.

James hovered above Sebastian, just millimeters away from his lips. For a moment he looked severely tempted to simply kiss the solider and he lingered, eyes shooting across every feature - every point of Sebastian's face. There was nothing special about it, unremarkable as far as a human's facial structure went save for that uncanny handsomeness. Sebastian Moran was exceedingly attractive by the popular standard; good bone structure - James thought. And the idea came into his mind to rearrange the sniper's features. Break his nose, crush his cheekbones and mandible and watch them heal without so much as a rearranging. See if he was still handsome to James. Because - while the fact that Sebastian was good-looking did not go unnoticed - James found him ...enticing for another reason.

He was partially unhinged. Not quite as far into disrepair as James was; but there was only one person who could match him there and he wasn't underneath the criminal mastermind. Sebastian was thinly veiled. A tiger among wolves. Horridly predictable yet unexpected - almost every time James endeavored to make Sebastian angry or to have him lash out, Sebastian wouldn't bat an eyelash. James often thought of himself as the man in sheeps clothing; hunting the wolf, the sheep, the tiger. Everything. But here Sebastian was, giving him a run for his money. That was what was most attractive about Sebastian Moran. The challenge. The game he presented. Sometimes a quiet and slow thing, other times exciting and fast-paced. An ever changing game. James loved it.

He had slithered down Sebastian's front and went between his legs, at first teasing him and licking at the curve of his muscles on his inner thigh looking just as lewd as if he had Sebastian's cock under his tongue. His eye shot up to look at the sniper, to study him, as his lips went to the tip of Sebastian's erection and pressed against the swollen head - threatening to slide past the barrier of his lips and teeth and into the heat of his mouth. His eyes wouldn't leave Sebastian's face

Sebastian watched James's eyes as he lingered so close. His lips moved, but not a sound came out. For a moment, he could forget the belt holding his hands, the aching in his groin, the sheer want. Because he saw something in those eyes. A reflection.

He was not James Moriarty. He could never compare with James Moriarty. Yet... Birds of a feather. His mother had always said that. He'd gone through three seconds, the first two asking to be transferred after getting into the field with Sebastian Moran. The second, a young woman, had told him why she wanted to transfer. Because she'd watched him at his gun, watched him sight a target, and watched him pull the trigger. She said she'd seen a flash in his eyes. Sebastian knew his C.O. had half laughed at her, but he knew what she meant. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the kill. As a soldier, that could be kept in check, harnessed. He could be sent after very specific people.

But then they'd taken that away from him... and James Moriarty had found him. Moulded him. Sebastian was not fool enough to claim that he was the same man now that he had been when he'd been in the Army. He was certainly a different man than the one who had received notice of how to collect his pension. Some of that-- the lack of booze-- was his own doing... but so much was James. Subtly pulling the strings to make him into something else. Into what he wanted him to be.

Sebastian breathed out at the initial attentions and groaned when James's lips were on his cock. He looked briefly down at James, meeting his eyes... but his own soon rolled back as his mouth parted again. He twisted his hands, seeking to grasp the loose leather of the belt. Not to try and free himself, no, but to anchor himself, keep his hips from rolling up. If he showed too much of an interest... James might stop to tease him more thoroughly.

James smiled against Sebastian's prick and somehow made the expression sweet. How that was possible...who knew. But it promised many delightfully horrible things to come.

He began to rub his mouth all against the head of Sebastian's cock, catching on the corners of his lips. His fingers are careful at his base with his hold but suddenly he squeezes and very slowly his lips parted and took tip into the wet red-hot of his mouth. He just keeps going too, taking more of Sebastian between his lips before he pulls off in a long suck that ends with a lewd pop. His hand swipes up and down the length of Sebastian's cock while his tongue flicks out to lick at the tip, chasing bits of his own spit.

"How are you, darling?" The way he says the endearment it sounds like he's been screaming; voice gone horse, all growls and no lilt.

Edited 2012-01-27 21:18 (UTC)

Sebastian tried to watch. After all, it was a delectable sight, watching James Moriarty move his mouth like that. However, when those lips separated, and James's head sank down, Sebastian lost the battle. His eyes closed while his head lolled back slightly, and he drew in a hard breath. The heat disappeared, and he groaned again, choking another sound when James's hand moves and Sebastian feels that tongue.

"Holy shit," he muttered in response to James, even if it wasn't much of a proper reply. His hand tightened around part of the belt that held his wrists, his nails digging into the leather rather than the skin of his own palm. "God."

James laughed again, low and hot in his chest before pumping his fist up and down one more time with a hard grip so the skin that isn't slick from his mouth catches. Only once more before his hands splay out onto the juncture of his hips and his stomach and press down while he sucks Sebastain's cock back into his mouth and works him.

The burn in his throat is worth taking in all of Sebastian like that. Bruising his lips on him and moaning around his prick so his cheeks vibrate with it as they hollow out on a particular pull up. His thumb traces at the sharp but shallow indent of Sebastian's waist as his tongue runs over the slit at the head - fucking teasing him again and he has the gall to smile while watching Sebastian's face for something, anything. A glimmer.

"Fuck."

Sebastian could bear any of the harsh words James threw at him without much reaction. But pleasure was a different matter. For pleasure, he would tilt his head back, groan, and arch under the attentions.

God.

Getting head from James Moriarty was a rare occurrence. Giving and receiving, really, for both of them. All the more reason to revel in the attentions. He was very, very sure he would pay dearly for how enjoyable this was.

"Christ, James."

"Mmm, You're lovely like this Sebastian." He was gloating, of course. When he waas in the least smug position a person could think of with his lips practically wrapped around a man's cock. He didn't stop teasing Sebastian either, busying himself with licking Sebastian root to tip, nuzzling his lips around the base. He was intent on driving Sebastian absolutely out of his mind without a thing he could do about it. Unless he managed to get his hands free.

James ducked his head to lick in quick, delicate strokes at the sensitive skin directly under Sebastian's prick. It might have been accidental that James's lips wrapped around his balls - but that wasn't James. His tongue stroked at the flesh in his mouth and he moaned to make it vibrate through his testicles.

"James."

The name left him on a groan, equal parts curse and invocation. He pulled at the restraints around his wrists, only succeeding in tightening them, as his body drew up against the attention. What part of his mind could think about it tried to reason how to free his hands so he could lead that mouth back up and push that head down, get his prick back into James's mouth. But rational, strategic thought was difficult to maintain with that tongue and mouth and those moans against his skin.

"Fuck."

The well-educated soldier? Can manage nothing more articulate, tilting his head back to groan.

James is purring and shaking as he stretches his back, lazy and liquid; curling the small of his spine in. He raises his head and grants Sebastian's wish by pulling the head of his cock back into his mouth and sucking slowly - as if he wanted to melt it between his lips.

He wants to work Sebastian up until he's just about to come, right on that edge. And stop. Leaving him teetering until he falls back down again to bring him back up to that defining point of pleasure until Sebastian is absolutely mad and writhing and begging James to let him come.

Sebastian groans at the feeling of the lips on his prick. The heat is paradise, and his eyes close to focus on just that feeling. He's hard, and it's damn enjoyable. Not enough, yet, to be driving him out of his mind, but he can guess that's coming. James only plays for high stakes, this isn't going to be an easy night. Especially since he wanted his hands bound.

But that's what makes it fun. What makes Sebastian quite opposed to offering any sort of complaint.

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