Chapter 2: Hook, Line, Sinker
Moriarty was getting into character as Jim from IT, mussing up his hair a bit, changing into some plainclothes and practicing a sincere smile in the mirror. He glanced at the clock: 8:30. Might as well get going now. He groaned, banging his head against the wall of his room. He really, really, really didn't want to do this, but to get to Sherlock...he had to. Fuck. He went on his way, following Molly's directions to her flat.
Molly was running around, tidying up and making things neat and orderly, trying to make it just right for Jim. She jumped slightly when the knock came at her door- 8:45. Checking herself in the mirror for the millionth time, she answered it. "Jim! Hi."
"Hey, Molly! Sorry, I'm a bit early...I hope you don't mind," he said brightly, looking around the flat as she held the door open. Boring, dull, completely predictable. Ugh.
"No, I don't mind. I-you came." She blushed as she shut the door. God, could you sound any more like a moron?
He furrowed his brow. "Of course I came, I said I'd be here, didn't I?" he said. Oh, you sad thing, been stood up before, haven't you? Jim thought. He felt an unexpected pang of pity for the woman...being left alone when you were waiting for someone was no fun at all, even he could identify that. Her lip twitched in a frown. "Yeah, it's just...nice. Telly's over here." She gestured to the sofa.
He walked over and sat down, getting comfortable as he settled in and she sat beside him, flicking on the telly and going to the proper channel. Molly glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she curled up on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as the show came on. There was no way he actually wanted to see this, guys never did. God, he was going to hate it. He sat through it and suffered, watching and paying attention, feigning rapt interest; it finally, finally ended with a trite Journey song (which they managed to ruin). "That was actually really good!" he said, false enthusiasm painting each word.
She looked at him. "You-you really think so?" Maybe it hadn't gone as bad as she'd thought it would.
"Yeah! It was great," he said, beaming at her. She grinned at him, and before she knew it, she'd hugged him. "Thank you."
He stiffened at the contact then remembered the character he played and hugged her back. "You're welcome," he said, pulling off that half-smile again. Molly leaned into the hug for another second before pulling away, still beaming at him.
Screwing his act together, Jim smiled softly at her, leaned in, and pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth. It actually wasn't so bad, he mused. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes closed, and she gently kissed back, lifting a hand to his cheek and tracing her fingertips over the warm skin and slight trace of stubble along his jaw. He opened his mouth a little to nibble her lower lip. No, this wasn't bad at all. She was a fragile creature, and he so loved the feeling of power, knowing that he could break her. She whimpered as his teeth grazed her lip, so she took a risk. Pressing a little closer, she kissed him a bit harder and licked his teeth with the tip of her tongue.
Oho! Little Mouse is feeling bold. He twined his tongue with hers, pulling her closer, his fingers threading through her long, long hair. She moaned in the back of her throat as the kiss turned into a full on snog. She straddled his hips and cradled his face in her hands as he took over the kiss.
Tongue darting, teeth nipping, hands pulling slightly, he took control, reveling slightly in the sounds that she made. She was straddling his hips, too. Oh, Molly-mouse, moving a wee bit fast now, aren't we? He broke the kiss and moved his lips down her neck, biting at the pulse-point, a wicked grin forming as he thought about how he could have ripped open her throat with his teeth if he had wanted to. She gasped, her head lolling back, her expression one of pure bliss. "Oh god, Jim," she moaned.
Well now. That was...hm, a reaction to be stored away and examined later. He moved his mouth back up to hers, shutting her up with another hot kiss. She kissed back hard, pouring herself into him. She hadn't felt this alive and electrified in years. He was slightly surprised by her passion. She really didn't get this much, did she? He had to feel a little bad, another thing that surprised him. He was distracted from his thoughts by the feel of her mouth on his neck. She wanted to return the favor, pulling her lips away and trailing them to the soft, warm skin of his neck, nipping gently before biting, sucking and licking at the marks she left on his skin.
Jim made a strangled noise as he gripped her hips. His neck was always one of his weak points, and she had a lovely mouth (even if her lips were too small). He was sure she was leaving an impressive mark, from the way her teeth were biting him. "Ah...Molls...we should...we should stop. Don't want to do something we'd both regret," he gasped. With a final kiss, she pulled back, face flushed and lips swollen, her eyes dark. "P-probably," she murmured hoarsely.
He glanced at the time, then back at the pleasantly disheveled-looking pathologist. "I'm afraid I have to go...early shift tomorrow," he said. He pressed one last kiss to her mouth before extricated himself from under her. "Thanks, it was a...lovely time," he said, adding a bit of a smirk to the last words, watching her blush.
"I enjoyed it. I-I'd love to do it again." She followed him to the door to let him out, feeling her heated face as she struggled to get back her control. Moriarty inwardly raised an eyebrow. Oh, I just bet you would, he thought. He smiled. "We'll have to figure something out, then," Jim from IT replied. He bid her a good night and made his way back to his flat, eager to take a shower.
Molly leaned against the door after he left, grinning and running her fingertips over her lips. She could still feel him, still taste the coffee had drunk earlier in the day.
oOoOo
Jim was toeing off his shoes in the sitting room when he started humming absently. Seb came out of the bathroom in a towel, drying off his hair. He was about to say hello to the Boss when he heard him humming. He snorted. "Journey, Boss? really?"
Moriarty started. Then he growled. "Damn that fucking show to the pits of hell and back," he hissed. "It would get stuck in my head," he groaned as he dramatically leaned his head back. Seb suddenly froze, snarling. "What. Is. That." His eyes narrowed as he stalked forward, examining the bruise on Jim's neck.
Jim absently touched it. "Hm...the little mouse was very...eager," he said, smirking. "Why, Sebby, are you... jealous?"
The sniper's eyes were nearly black as he snarled his answer. "Maybe."
Both of Jim's eyebrows went up. "Temper, temper. You know that this is only a job," he said. Seb leaned in, his nose almost brushing Jim's. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he hissed.
"Oh, you'll like what I tell you to like. And right now, that means me with little mouse for the moment. Is. That. Clear?" Jim said softly, his voice dangerous. Seb shook his head to clear it before stepping back. "Yes Boss. Of course, Boss."
"Good. Now give us a kiss," cooed Jim, feeling generous tonight. Dropping the towel in his hands, Seb drew the criminal close, brushing his lips against Jim's before claiming his mouth hard and fast. The psychopath wound his fingers through the damp blond hair, taking what he would, all heat and fire and possession; like it or not, Sebastian was his sniper. He bit the taller, blonde man's lip hard enough to draw blood, just to remind him. Seb growled, nipping back and sucking Jim's tongue, digging his fingers into Jim's back. Jim pulled on the assassin's hair hard before breaking the kiss. "Run along now," he said absently, eyes dark and lips swollen. "Daddy has some work to do."
Seb gasped, glancing down at his towel before glaring at Jim. Motherfucking sonofabitch, he thought as he stalked away to their room, scrambling through his drawers for his bottle of lube. "One of these days," he growled to himself as he shut the door and lay back on the bed. Jim's lips curled into an evil smirk as he heard Seb growl and stomp back to his room before shuffling around in his drawers. Oh how he loved to tease his sniper.
Five minutes later, Seb collapsed against the pillows, panting and sweating before gently wiping himself down with his towel and chucking it in the corner. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking of all the ways he could torture Jim that he never would do but that were fun to imagine all the same.
"Thinking about torturing me isn't going to help, but you're welcome to try anyway," Jim sang through the door of their room before sauntering off to shower. He had sharp ears and sharp eyes and he knew very well what the tall blonde man had been doing after he left the sitting room. He shifted a little in his stride. He'd have to follow suit as well, what with the little mouse being an unexpected bonus and his Seb...some relief was needed after all.
"Fuck you!" Seb shouted back. Damn him and his near psychic mind.
His only response to Seb's shouted epithet was a chuckle. Once his shower (and subsequent wank) were finished, he emerged feeling sleepy, sated, and all around much better. Everything was going according to plan, and it was wonderful.
oOoOo
Molly came to work with a spring in her step and cover-up on her neck. She hummed her way through work, looking forward to seeing Jim again. Jim plodded his way through the work day. It was all so easy and just so boring. He glanced up at the time, nearly lunch. Might as well go see the little mouse in her frigid cage, take her out to eat. He walked down to the morgue, opening the door and knocking on the wall. "Hey, Molls!" he said cheerfully, a bit shy. She jumped, spinning to look at him, grinning. "Hey!" She didn't even mind the nickname. "How's your day going?"
"Boring, but better now that I've seen you," he said, grimacing inwardly. God, that was trite. "Fancy a lunch date?" he asked.
"Sure. Just let me clean up here." She was wrist deep in a corpse and had to suture it shut before stripping her gloves. "Good to go," she said cheerfully. His eyes watched her, the blood from the corpse painting her gloves, her hands working deftly as she cut and sewed. Oh, that was good. That was very good. He had to swallow hard as she washed up and stripped the long lab coat off. "Any place in particular you want to go?" he inquired.
"Nope. I'm easy. Anything's better than the food in the canteen anyway." She grabbed her purse and jacket, unconsciously rubbing the bruise on her throat where it was covered up.
"Oh, there's this lovely little joint not too far from here. Have you ever had shwarma?" he asked as he held the door for her.
"No, don't think I even know what it is. But I'm always willing to try something new."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Well, that's good!" he said. The shwarma was all right, not the best, and they managed to eat their lunch with plenty of time to spare. The two of them wandered through the park afterwards, sitting on a bench and watching the ducks, swapping stories. Jim made Molly laugh so hard she snorted at one point; the pathologist almost instantly covered her mouth and nose, face flushing with embarrassment. "Oh God, that was-I'm so sorry," she spluttered.
"Don't apologize, that was cute," he said. She blushed harder. "Stop it, it really wasn't," she muttered, her hands still over her mouth and nose. He gently took her wrists and moved them away from her face. Such delicate hands, looking beautiful when covered in blood...no, no, not the time or place. "It really was," he murmured, before taking her mouth in a soft kiss. Her eyes closed slowly as he kissed her. It was gentle and perfect, very sweet. His fingers encircled her wrists, holding them firmly but gently; she liked it, the power he seemed to have over her.
He stepped the kiss up a little, adding more heat, tightening the grip around her wrists a bit, feeling the thin bones under her skin, the blood rushing through her, making her pulse pound as his tongue asked for entrance to her mouth. She moaned in her throat, opening her lips to him as she pressed closer to him on the bench, feeling her pulse in her wrists and fingers. He released her wrists as their tongues twined, and he wound one hand into that long ponytail, the other (daring boy he was being today and fuelled by the sight of her with the corpse) tentatively pressed to her breast, palming the slight curve through her hideous jumper. Molly growled, surprising herself. It had been a very long time since she'd been touched like that. She leaned in closer, sucking hard on his tongue and pulling it into her mouth, her teeth running lightly along its edge.
Oho... what was this? Little miss Molly Mouse was feeling bold. He pulled her in, crushing her to him as he growled at her in return, low in his throat. Molly's mind started shorting out from lack of air and the snog itself just as her phone went off. She jumped, startled, groaning in exasperation as she dug her phone from her pocket. "Hello? Oh-I-yes, sure, yeah...uh huh, I'll be right there." She hung up, looking over at Jim sadly. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I-I have to run back to work."
He pouted, a real pout from both Jim from IT and Moriarty; things were just getting interesting. "Damn," he swore. "No worries, Molls. I guess I'll see you back at Bart's," he said, standing and giving her one last, hot kiss that was sure to make her knees weak. She pulled him closer, not wanting it to end when her phone went off again. "Jesus, Sherlock I'm coming," she muttered, pulling out of the kiss and checking her phone. "Gotta run. See you later," she called as she ran back to the hospital.
His ears pricked up. Sherlock? He waited until she was almost out of sight before following her, his stride easily picking up the slack and narrowing the distance between them. He trailed after her, through the morgue and into the lab and there he was-the consulting detective in all of his glory. Oh yes. Beautiful Sherlock...no wonder Molly Mouse has a crush on you, Jim thought, looking the tall detective up and down.
"Jim, hi! This is Sherlock Holmes and uh...sorry..."
"John Watson, hi."
"Hello...Molly's told me all about you," Jim said to Sherlock, putting on the act of an infatuated fan.
"Jim works in IT upstairs. That's how we met. Office romance."
Sherlock took one glance at Jim before turning back to his microscope. "Gay."
"Sorry, what?" The grin vanished from Molly's face.
"Nothing um, hey," Sherlock said, looking at Jim.
Jim purposely knocked something off of the table, standing a little too close to Sherlock and bending abruptly to pick it up with a cry of "Whoops!" As he stood, he slid a scrap of paper with his 'number' and a 'Call Me ;)' message on it. Molly bid him farewell as he left before rounding on Sherlock. He went through his deduction, upsetting her greatly. She didn't even answer him, just turned and ran from the room.
Jim had to snicker as he walked out of the morgue. He met Sherlock and his little friend, and shattered the pathologist's heart, all in less than five minutes. That had to be a new record. He was wondering how long it was going to take before she confronted him when she stormed out of the morgue, looking furious. "Molls! Is everything all right?" he asked, fake concern in his voice. He inwardly chuckled and began a mental countdown. Molly was flustered, uncertain, but Sherlock was never wrong. "Jim, what he said back there, is it-is it true?" She bit her lip as she looked at him, frustrated and scared.
"What...? What he said? Oh! No! Nonono..." he stammered out quickly, making far too much effort in the denial for it to be anything but true. She paled. "Oh no...oh god DAMN it," she yelled, slamming her fists against the wall. Again. She'd been stupid and silly again, played and used. No wonder he'd liked Glee. Straight men didn't like Glee or tell her she was interesting. God, she was such a bloody fool.
Inwardly, Moriarty grinned and basked in her hurt and betrayal. It was like a balm to him, a sweet sound. "I'm so sorry, Molls...I...I just wasn't sure and..." he said, acting miserable.
"And Sherlock Holmes convinced you. Well, have fun. I'm sure you'll enjoy crushing over a guy with no heart!" She stormed back to her office, slamming the door as hard as she could, having to catch the things that fell off her desk. Molly sank into her office chair and started to cry softly. He winced as he heard the door slam, then covered his face and pretended to cry. In reality, he was laughing, laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face. Oh, this was just. Too. Good. Everything had played out the way it needed to. The pieces were in play.
oOoOo
Jim walked back after setting things up for the showdown at the pool, the pool where poor Carl Powers died. Everything was going so well. He had a spring in his step as he walked into his flat, whistling some classical music. Seb jerked up from the couch when Jim came in, his hair plastered flat on one side and dried drool out of the corner of his mouth. "I'mawake. I'm up."
"Aw, look at you. Aren't you just precious," Jim said, waltzing over to where Seb was laying, flopping down in an oversized armchair across from him. "Well, it should please your jealous little heart to know that I won't be seeing any more of little miss mouse," he grinned, the look of hurt and pain and anger on Molly's face coming back to him. Seb wiped the drool away, running fingers through his blonde hair to try and tease the flattened mess out but with no luck. He glared at Jim. 'Dunno why you'd even worry about my 'jealous little heart' as you put it."
"Well, a happy sniper is an effective sniper, after all. And you should have seen the look on her face...oh, it was glorious. I totally shattered her," he said, bragging. Seb rolled his eyes. "I should just get you a special shower so you can bathe in blood and the tears of children."
The criminal made a face. "No, no, hot water is just enough. Although drinking from the skull of my fallen enemies does sound like a good compromise," he mused.
"Hmmm, what I'd drink from your skull..."
Jim grinned, sharp and quick like the edge of a knife. "What would you drink from my skull?" he asked, getting up and sitting next to Seb on the couch, taking in the sleep-tousled blond hair, the rumpled clothing, the outline of the muscles of his chest and abdomen under his shirt. Seb looked him up and down; the disguise Jim was wearing really was flattering. "You should wear jeans more often, Boss."
"And you should fall asleep on the couch more often," he said, leaning closer.
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Because you look absolutely...delicious," he purred, before closing what little distance that remained between them and taking Seb's mouth in a hot, vicious kiss. Seb purred, kissing back ferociously, all teeth and tongue and lips, yanking Jim onto his lap hard before carding his fingers through the man's hair. Jim arched into Sebastian as he ran his fingers through his hair. He wound his arms around the blonde man's neck, biting his lower lip hard and feeling himself growing stiff inside his jeans.
"Want it bloody?" Seb asked as he nicked Jim's lips, retaliation for the bite. "You fucking got it."
Jim moaned as Seb returned the bite, working his way down the sniper's neck with stinging little nips before sinking his teeth into the muscle of where his neck and shoulder met. Seb howled, his hips slamming up into Jim's. His fingers tore at the thin shirt the man was wearing. Helping Seb along, Jim tore his shirt off and ripped at Seb's, grinding his hips into the man below him, feeling the bulge of his lover's arousal. He purred and laved the bite-marks that graced the other man's skin with his tongue. Seb growled and hissed as Jim forced him down and into the sofa. "Yes-fuck-oh-Boss-"
Tearing himself away, he got to his feet and dragged Seb to his, pulling the taller, heavier, muscled man into the bedroom, rummaging through the drawers to find the condoms and lube. "Strip," he ordered Seb. The sniper had his clothes off in less than ten seconds, the black fabric in a puddle at his feet. "Jeans, Boss," he growled, his voice a mere rumble.
Jim peeled the jeans off of himself, taking his boxers with them until he stood nude before Seb, one hand absently stroking his length. He watched his lover through hooded eyes for a moment before he pounced, all teeth and lips and tongue, biting and arching and pulling. Seb snarled, catching the man in his arms and hooking Jim's legs around his waist before throwing them both to the bed, pinning the criminal beneath him.
Jim allowed the blonde assassin to hover over him for a moment before surging up and flipping them so he was on top. The criminal gave a swift bite to Seb's throat, growling, reminding him where his place was: beneath him, in every sense of the word. Seb lay back, resting against the comforter and closing his eyes. "Rough day?" he smirked.
Jim let out a short laugh. "Hardly. Plans are coming together wonderfully," he said, rolling his hips against Seb's, adding a little pressure. Seb gasped involuntarily, bucking up against Jim; the man was so light he could easily throw him across the room, very tempting sometimes.
"Ah-ah-ah, Sebby...remember. Your. Place." he said, pinning the man beneath him. For all his slight frame and light weight, Jim was deceptively strong. Seb struggled; he couldn't help it. "Then stop fucking teasing me."
"Impatient, aren't we? One moment," he said lazily, before tearing open a condom and rolling it over himself, then lubing up his fingers; Seb fought the urge to pin Jim down while he was otherwise occupied. His fingers well-oiled, he moved them to Seb's entrance, sliding two fingers in at once, curling and scissoring them as he felt the ring of tight muscle contract around them. Seb scrunched his face up against the intrusion, struggling to relax as Jim forced his way inside; this part was always the hardest. Jim probed farther, the tips of his fingers brushing against Seb's prostate. The sniper roared, his head coming up and slamming back down as he tried to fuck himself on Jim's fingers.
"Ooooh, so Sebby likes that, hmm?" Jim purred, repeating the action.
"FUCKINGHELL!"
Jim tsk'ed. "Language, Sebastian. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, I forgot...she's dead," he said, doing it a third time just out of spite. Seb snarled, his voice dangerous and feral. "I kiss the king of the world with that mouth you sadistic prick."
He moaned. "Oooh, yes. Daddy likes that, Sebby. King of the world indeed." he said. Then he snarled and ripped his fingers from him, replacing them with his cock and hammering into the assassin. "And don't you ever dare forget it," he growled, his pace fast and merciless.
Seb was only empty for two seconds before something much larger and harder was drilling into him, swift and hard. He screamed and writhed in both pain and pleasure, so hard that he thought he would explode before it had even really begun. Jim laughed breathlessly before he circled his fingers around the base of Seb's arousal, squeezing. "Oh no, can't have you finishing just yet. Far too soon," he murmured, thrusting slower.
Seb's toes curled as he lifted his lower half from the bed, the lava in his stomach bubbling unpleasantly as Jim shoved him back from the edge. "P-p-please..." he whispered, breathing heavily as Jim continued to fuck him slowly.
"Hm? Please what?" Jim asked, slightly breathless.
"L-let me come, oh please Boss." Seb forced his eyes open to look at the man before they rolled back into his head with a groan at the sight of Jim: tousled hair, eyes black with arousal, his fingers wrapped around Seb's cock and rocking in and out of him. Jim snarled fiercely, watching the man beneath him come slowly unraveled, his blonde hair sticking with sweat to his scalp, bright blue eyes rolling back in his head, his cock twitching against his fingers as he released his grip and began stroking in time with his thrusts, moving faster. With one last jerk of his hips, he rammed into Seb, hitting his prostate and driving himself home.
The sniper screamed Jim's name, coming hard all over his lover's hand and his own chest, gasping and sobbing in pleasure, ecstasy, pain, and relief. As Seb screamed his name, Jim came undone, snarling and growling, throbbing as the muscles around his cock contracted. When he had finished, he slowly pulled out of Seb to collapse beside him on his back, breathing hard.
"Yes...a good day indeed," he gasped.
Seb twitched and shuddered, his muscles aching. His throat was raw as he looked over at the dark haired madman next to him. "Oh hell-fucking-yes it's been a good day," he rasped. Jim disposed of the condom slowly and he looked over at Seb and wrinkled his nose. "Go take a shower and clean yourself up; you're a mess," he said.
Seb groaned. "Give us a minute."
Jim rolled his eyes, maneuvered himself, then pushed Seb out of bed. "Now. I don't want you staining my sheets," he said.
Seb landed on his hands and toes, standing slowly and walking awkwardly to the bathroom, stepping into a hot shower and washing off the traces of their shag. Jim smirked, laying back and thinking on his plans for the next evening involving the pool. Oh, he should probably tell Seb that he was going to be there; after all, he needed his master assassin as insurance...and as a more concrete threat.
Once his muscles had mostly relaxed, Seb stepped from the shower and toweled off, walking back to the Boss's room stark naked. Moriarty felt his lips curl into an appreciative smile as Seb walked back into the room, still slightly damp from the shower. He admired the hard muscles that moved precisely underneath the skin and the scars that shone silver on his flesh. "I need you for a job tomorrow night," he said.
Seb glanced at him as he pulled a pair of pants from the drawer, tugging them on and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Really? What for?"
Jim grinned, shark-like and dangerous. "Confronting Sherlock," he said.
"Ahhhhh, finally got all of your cards in play, very nice. Where?"
"The pool where poor little Carl Powers died. You know the one."
Seb did. "Need me to shoot someone?"
"Dunno. I should hope not...Sherlock is just so much fun. More as a precaution," he said.
"Keep him in line, very nice. What's your ace in the hole?"
"It involves his doctor-pet, a large jacket and a vest made of SemTex," he replied. Seb's lips curled into a feral smirk. "My kind of evening. So long as you don't get blown up, we'll be good."
Jim snorted. "Oh, please, Sebby. Me, get blown up? Perish the thought," he said. Seb lay down next to Jim, pulling the man in for a hug and giving him a noogie. "Just making sure you're being a genius."
Jim smacked the hands away. "Always, Seb. Always."
Seb smirked, kissing Jim on the cheek and getting under the covers, his toes starting to freeze.
The consulting criminal sighed, his eyes starting to droop in spite of himself. He did need to sleep, despite his best efforts to the contrary. He moved closer to Seb to steal some body heat. The sniper wrapped an arm around Jim's shoulders, pulling the blankets up over him and kissing the top of his head. Jim snorted. "You always get so cuddly after we fuck," he murmured.
"Mmhmmmm...weakness," the blonde muttered.
Jim sighed and wrapped his arms around the larger man before his eyes drifted closed and his breathing evened out in sleep, dreaming of his victory.
