Prompt: Moran at Christmas
From: Book girl fan
Contains MoriartyXMoran! Enjoy, lovely people- even though its February!
Warnings: Contains indirect mentions of sex at the end. And someone listening in on that, in case anyone feels uncomfortable reading it.
…..
"You heard me, didn't you, Solomon?"
"…Yes, I did, boss. You want me to cook him and serve him on a silver platter." The short, thin man intoned dully.
"Good. Do be so kind as to remember the stuffing this time." The Professor said, his voice softer than Mongolian silk. The threats of what he would do to Solomon remained unspoken, and yet, the chef got the message, loud and clear.
Solomon nodded, and bowed into the shadows of Moriarty's lair. As soon as he as gone, the professor rolled his eyes in explicit frustration.
"Well, I hope Moran likes our festive celebrations this year, as I most certainly will not be…." He snarled to himself.
He got up from his chair and wandered around the lair, pondering over why he had let Moran celebrate Christmas this year. Several reasons came to mind which he had considered over his decision.
One was that Moran, oddly, loved Christmas- ever since he was in short trousers, and never failed to do something to celebrate the occasion, no matter how small. Secondly, Moran was so damn persuasive sometimes, and it drove him insane when he agreed to do something against his will, all because of his lover's honeyed tone, his swaying words….
And lastly, it was technically their first Christmas together as a couple of sorts since they started their romantic relationship in the spring. How could he have possibly said no?
Well, he was more wondering how he could have said yes. Fortunately, Moran agreed to low key decorations, so there was only a tree, proudly ablaze with candles and a few decorations in the corner.
Suddenly, he heard someone singing the lyrics of 'Bleak Midwinter' from upstairs. And not just someone, either… it was Moran. Moriarty was about to snarl at his second in command/lover to shut up or face the consequences, when he noted that Moran was a much better singer than he had made himself out to be initially.
Curious, he went up the iron stairs towards their bedroom to find out what Moran was up to, exactly. And why he was singing Bleak Midwinter.
….
"In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan;
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago."
Moriarty couldn't lie- that singing voice sounded so deep and so melodic- he cursed as he found himself becoming deeply aroused by his boyfriend's singing, and he threw the door open.
The kiss came as soon as he saw the mistletoe hanging cheerfully from the door, as though it had always been there.
….
"Moran, what is the meaning of this?" Moriarty demanded. His lover grinned, his white teeth glimmering like pearls.
"Well, James, I thought I'd surprise you, is all." He said cheerfully, which only irritated Moriarty even more.
"Sebastian, please could you tell me what is going on here?" he asked sternly.
"Your Christmas present of course, my love," Moran continued with a purr. "You let me celebrate Christmas- despite your obvious dislike for it, so I thought I would repay the favor."
Moriarty couldn't help but admit that his curiosity was piqued by this proposal, despite his usual hatred for surprises. "Well, what is it?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Purred Moran, seductively, reaching out for his courtier's cravat and untying it mischievously.
Moriarty grinned wickedly when he felt Moran's fingers sneak their way down the collar of his shirt onto his shoulder and massaged it gently, his skin tingling deliciously at the sensational touch.
"Oh, Moran, you are naughty," he smirked. "And I love it."
"I knew you would," said Moran, pulling Moriarty in for a long, passionate kiss. "After all, would you settle for anything less? I know I wouldn't."
"If you do, I'll skin you alive."
"I love you too, James," Smirked Moran, allowing himself to shut the door before pulling the genius professor onto the bed after him.
…..
Unbeknownst to the pair, Solomon was hovering outside their bedroom door, his giant, clipped ear against the keyhole, listening to the moans of pleasure and content of the two men within.
"Oh, Moran, sing for me, please" Sighed Moriarty. "You have a wonderful voice."
"With pleasure," Grunted Moran in delight.
Solomon continued to listen in, forgetting the fact that the turkey was still cooking….
