Moriarty stares the computer screen, the pale light illuminating the highest points of his face. His black hair slicked back, revealing his wrinkled forehead and the few dots of acne. He stared hesitantly at the detective's blog, learning any new cases that Sherlock submitted. Finding a new way to trick Sherlock, just to keep the detective busy for a while until he discovers that Moriarty was behind another case.
Moriarty leaned back in his expensive leather computer chair and swinging his legs up to rest his feet on the desk. Moriarty, still staring at the computer screen, he examined Sherlock's face. So soft looking, so graceful, so... elegant.
Jim, what are you doing? He thought, Are you gay? No you can't be, you had sex with many women you NEVER been attracted to a man before.
But, there was something with Sherlock that caught Moriarty's attention. It must be the deep monotoned voice that rumbles in Sherlock's throat, the dark curly locks that mops his head, or it could be those cheekbones. Like Irene Adler always said, cheekbones so sharp, it can cut your hand in half while trying to slap his face. But indeed, there's something about him that delivers chills down Moriarty's spine.
He never really thought about, actually. Having feelings for his most strongest rival. Moriarty always hid it very well, teasing Sherlock with riddles, crimes, and strong insults. All of this to get him out of Sherlock's "feelings." It's like 2nd grade love, really. Teasing and being hateful towards the person you have strongs feelings for, just to hide it.
Jim still laid back in the leather chair, only feeling a little tightness in his trousers. It didn't take long to figure out that he was slowing getting an erection at the thought of Sherlock riding him all night. He concentrated harder at the image on the computer screen. Jim sat straight up, moving the mouse towards the 'image gallery.' Clicking it, it revealed multiple pictures of Sherlock doing other things. He enlarged the first picture in the gallery and started flipping through them.
Moriarty began to feel a few drops of sweat coming from forehead, indicating that he needs to pull his shirt off. Following behind his shirt which was now sprawled across the floor, his trousers joined it, and along with his boxer briefs. Jim layed there on the computer chair in the nude and going through pictures of the attractive detective. Jim reached over to the nearest drawer which contianed the half empty bottle of lubricant. He poured the liquid over his fingers. The criminal mastermind snaked his fingers, wrapping around the base of his full-grown erection. He slowly moved his hand in the up and down motion to spread around the lubricant. He breathed heavily in full blown ecstacy and pleasure.
He stared at only one picture from being too busy with his masturbation. Jim closed his eyes as the image stained in his brain and now he pictured Sherlock's tight, virgin ass around his cock which encouraged Jim to move faster with his hand. He imagined a faint voice, Sherlock's whimpers and moans of pleasure which soon drowned his ears.
"Mmmmm yes, Sherlock. You like that, don't you?" He said to himself, motioning his hand faster and faster. Yes, yes, fuck me harder, Jim. Fuck me you bad boy. He imagined the detective screaming out. Jim's eyes shut tighter.
Moriarty grunted loudly leaning further back into the chair. He wanted to hear Sherlock scream the criminal's name over and over again so badly but unfortunately, he can only imagine it which was fair enough to him for now until he can finally get Sherlock for himself which won't be soon enough.
Jim motioned so fast that he had to pull his head back, flail his arms backwards, and thrusting his thin hips into the air as he climaxed. He wailed out Sherlock's name like his life depended on it. The semen splashed along his stomach, around his thighs, and coating his right hand. Moriarty's eyes shot open at the picture of Sherlock and smiled warmly at it. He reached out his left hand and touched the computer screen, running it down Sherlock's beautiful face.
He got up and cleaned the mess he made. It's been a while since he did this kind of stuff. Two months to be exact. Jim's been wanting to steal Sherlock's virginity ever since the day he learned about him. All he could do is pleasure himself with fake thoughts and images on the computer. It bothered Moriarty. But that's all going to change soon.
After the criminal dressed himself into a pair of lounging pants and a t-shirt, he grabbed his cell phone and sent Sherlock a single text:
Meet me at my place tomorrow if possible. We need to talk.
-Moriartyx
A few moments passed and the phone notified a text from Sherlock:
Does first thing in the morning sound okay? I'm off tomorrow.
-SH
"Perfect" he said to himself, laying back in his bed. He turned on the telly and slept through another night.