Irene arched back her back as she felt him thrusting their hips in opposite directions. His eyes were closed, concentrated in the movement, and his head was less than a centimeter away from her breasts. She could feel his warm, heavy breath against them, and there was something lustful and at the same time frustrating in the fact that he never closed the gap between his lips and her hard nipples. His muscles in his arms contracted and relaxed as he pushed himself against her a couple more times before he slowed down and she knew he had come. She looked at him with a pleased smile and pushed him lightly to allow him to lay in bed, which he promptly did. She moved to the side and proceeded to remove his condom. He laid there, apparently completely oblivious to the woman, sweeping the barely existing sweat off of his forehead with his left hand. She looked at him again before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom.
She came back with a robe and stopped at the bathroom's door to observe him. He was in the exact position, his mind wandering as he stared at probably his own reflection in the mirror.
"If I tell you something can you promise me there will be no retaliation?" she asked softly after a while. He turned his head to look at her as if he had finally realized she was there and shrugged uninterested.
"You fuck like a girl," her voice was smooth, she made sure her words didn't come out accusatory. She knew what could happen if he was ever upset about something, and frequently it was very hard to figure what'd tick him off. She watched his reaction carefully. She saw his eyebrows go slightly up with surprise and then immediately frown in confusion. She watched his tongue lick his lower lip and swallow as he looked at her from down to top. She smiled satisfied. "Well, not that there's anything wrong with that. I like girls, you know…" she moved closer to him and sat in front of him on the edge of the bed. She could see his mind working and was delighted with it, but before she could say anything or get any closer, he turned around and got into the bathroom.
This exchange from a long time before got stuck in his mind and would come up again from time to time. Before that day Jim Moriarty had never really concerned himself with the matter. After all, sex for him had always only been an outlet and people were mere assets for criminal schemes and money. This remained true until the beginning of 2009.
A.N.: Hey! It's been so long since I published anything... it's good to be back. So, my friend got me obsessed with Sherlock, especially Moriarty and Tumblr got me obsessed with Moriarty/Moran. So much so that it made me write this story. I'm looking for a beta reader, so if you're interested please PM me. This is my first time writing slash and the first time I publish online something so graphic, so I'm really concerned about how good it is. I'd love to hear your thoughts about it!