Smolensk (Beeblock Fic)

random-ficcery:

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Title: Smolensk (Also On AO3)
Rating: PG-13/R (violence)
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters/Pairings: Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Misc OCs.
Word Count:3,388
Disclaimer: Not owning, not profiting, no claiming of any kind. Nope.
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: Some, yes – Death of OCs, Non-graphic violence, Endangerment of major characters, Gratuitous partial-nudity, Wanton destruction of private property, Waste of perfectly good vehicles.
Original Prompt: lady_karasu said, “You referred to ‘what happened in Smolensk’ in that reward fic – so, tell me what happened.“
Summary: Seb goes along with Jim’s plan to infiltrate a Russian mobster’s home/headquarters, things don’t go according to plan, dangerous hijinx ensue.
Author’s Notes: I promised lady_karasu a fic for her birthday… *clears throat, shuffles feet*… in February. AHEM! So, yeah, at least it’s before the NEXT birthday, right? I mentioned the Smolensk thing in another fic and, although we discussed it briefly, she wanted the whole story as a fic. Finally, after much wrangling with the Muse and RL, here it is. Sorry for the wait, bebe, but here it is!

Yaaaaay, my gift fic!  *snuggles it*  It’s so /lovely/… in, you know, an explosive mormor sort of way.  ^_^  Thank you, Random~!  (Oh crap, I need to start working on yours, don’t I… I’m running out of time.)

Opening Moves

For Amonaly, who knows why and what sparked it. ❤
~~~~

It was a slow progression of teasing and barter that landed Jim in the position he now occupied – hands cuffed behind his back, straddling Sebastian’s lap in a wide, low spread that left him almost completely bared, for all that he was still fully clothed.  He suspected the other man still wore that pleased, almost-smug grin, though he couldn’t be certain, as a tie – Seb’s, in this case; he seemed to enjoy the leash of Jim’s entirely too much to commandeer it – had been used as a surprisingly effective makeshift blindfold.  Still, once Jim’s world had been reduced to sightless touch and sound, Sebastian’s resonant purr – without ever losing its sultry heat – had taken on something of an affectionate undertone.

Jim chuckled softly as a warm palm slid slowly up his thigh, knowing the faint curl of a smirk still clung to his lips.  “And what do you plan to do with me now that you’ve caught me, tiger?” He goaded playfully, voice softly lilting as he spoke, knowing that if left to his own devices, Seb could easily spend the next twenty minutes simply running hands over every inch of Jim’s body that he could reach.  The man could be oddly sentimental at times, and deliciously sensual at others – a tendency Jim actually enjoyed, in its time and place – but he was far too interested in getting to his own reward just now, so rare as to never be offered before, and had little patience for a long, drawn out affair preceding it. 

The pause that came after his statement was not long, but came without any warning or indication of how Seb would react; there was merely silence, first, then a broad, warm palm sliding up from his hip, over chest and pectoral until it fisted loosely in the fabric of his shirt; the other hand remained on his thigh, and Jim had only just tilted his head inquisitively when a buck and a shove had him flying to his knees at Sebastian’s feet.  The hand grasping his shirt kept Jim upright, but the unexpected, unprepared movement was both startling and exhilarating, and he leaned reactively into the warmth of the other man’s leg.  After another moment – time enough for Jim’s breathing to even, though it had never done something so crass as to properly elevate with the surprise – the grip in his shirt loosened, hand flattening to straighten the fabric before drifting upwards again, shifting over shoulder and around the back of his neck. 

He leaned back into the hold with a languid smirk, letting that hand cradle his neck and the base of his skull as he could feel Sebastian shifting forward in his seat.  The next sound, as quiet and unobtrusive as it was, gave Jim some idea of the other man’s intention, and he was ready when fingers threaded into his hair firmly, though not uncomfortably, and pulled him steadily forward.  “I’ve got something much more interesting you could do with that mouth of yours, Jim”, Seb rumbled with heat and clear amusement, and Jim’s smirk deepened a moment before his lips curled back to show sharp teeth – jaw snapping them together once in sharp rebuke and some small threat – before his expression shifted again in the next moment to a more docile compliance.  He leaned forward on his own, then, though the hand guided him down, until his cheek just brushed Sebastian’s length.  Leaning in further for a moment, Jim took in the clean scent of musk that came with a freshly showered, but aroused, body, and turned his face to the side, rubbing his cheek back along the length of Seb’s cock as he mouthed his way in open kisses back to the tip.     

There was no groan, no sound but for a soft sigh of breath as Jim moved, and he centered himself somewhat awkwardly on shifting knees until the weight of Sebastian’s head rested on his tongue.  Licking up and across his slit before letting it bob gently away, Jim opened his mouth to speak the retort rising to his lips, then changed his mind with a soft chuckle – banter could come later, now was for business – and lowered his head again, taking Sebastian into his mouth in a long, slow glide.  Now came a soft murmur of pleasure, and he could feel Seb’s legs relaxing , spreading under him to make room, hips tilting up to give him a better angle; such a thoughtful lover, when they weren’t fighting for dominance. 

Jim moved slowly, offering a light scrape of teeth along Seb’s underside as he pulled back, and laving down over same with a firm tongue as he descended.  Sebastian seemed content to let him move at his own pace, the hand threaded into his hair remaining a constant, warm weight, but without pressure or attempt to lead.  He could, within the bounds of their deal – Seb could do damn near anything he liked – but the approach he had taken gave Jim more of a desire to preform; perhaps the intent of the move, perhaps not, but effective, regardless.  Quickening his pace and the firmness of his tongue,  it wasn’t long before Jim was pulling a steady, pleasant stream of murmurs and groans from Seb, hips beginning to twitch in a telltale warning moments before he stuttered to a frozen stop with a long, heart-felt groan and flooded Jim’s mouth with the warm proof of his effort. 

He could have pulled off, but considered this equal compensation for the things he planned to do with Sebastian, once his total submission was claimed, and instead held the man through the last, twitching aftershocks of his pleasure, pulling off only once he could feel Seb relax beneath him, again; swallowing as he went, and giving Seb’s tip a light, playful lick as they parted. 

Leaning back enough to sit on his heels, Jim listed to the side, leaning once more along the length of Sebastian’s leg; letting it take his weight as he waited for the other man’s breathing to even.

“Did I wear you out, tiger?” he asked with more than a hint of smug self-satisfaction, leaning forward enough to rest his chin on Seb’s thigh; a faintly teasing, yet pointed move, noting his continued pliancy, at least until the reins were transferred.  “My turn, then?” 

The answer wasn’t immediate, fingers first loosening in his hair, then rubbing lightly against his scalp before a verbal response was delivered.  “Oh, no, Jim, not quite yet…”  The hand stroked almost absently through his hair, but even without sight, he could tell Sebastian’s full focus was on him.  Voice low, relaxed, and faintly amused, Seb continued, “There are so many things I’d like to do with you, first, before it’s your turn.”

Jim huffed a breath and pouted, but didn’t argue; he had said ‘anything’, after all, and his time with Sebastian would be more than worth the wait.

Jim wasn’t a casual smoker. He didn’t smoke to kill himself faster or because he thought it made him look cool. He simple smoked from time to time because he liked the taste of ash in the back of his throat. He’d nick just a one cig from Sebastian and sit out on the balcony, sometimes buck naked other times in a sheet and just puff. He enjoyed the way the smoke curled up around his head in little rings. He enjoyed the calm it gave him. In a little bit he’d regret it but for now it was comfort.

Well look at this lovely little surprise; thank you, dear~  ❤