Jim’s hands were tight on Sebastian’s knees as he looked up at him. The breathless laugh had been exactly the sound he strove to pull out of the tall man. The sound of a man, completely fit, left out of breath by the Irishman’s mouth, the laugh almost a sound of disbelief that this could even be happening. It made the criminal catch his own breath in turn, the heat in his groin fired just by that sound.
“Your fun? Ah yes…tonight we want everything to be about your fun, don’t we?” He nodded and looked up at the ceiling briefly, pleased by some evil thoughts in his head, thoughts he didn’t share. “Lucky lucky Sebastian Moran. At the gaming table and lounging his room.” Jim smiled slowly, lips closed. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips quickly as he tilted his head. Thoughtfully, a slow movement as his fingers tapped out piano songs briefly on Sebastian’s thighs. His dark-as-sin eyes never left Sebastian’s green ones as he smiled.
“A man,” he continued almost dreamily as he slowly rose to his feet, “Who plays his cards right.” He wiped his wrist across his mouth, looking down at Sebastian for a moment. He knew precisely what the other man wanted. He knew the sniper wanted nothing half so much, now that he’d finished his cigar, than to have Jim Moriarty, greatest criminal mind in Europe (and Jim would argue, in South America at the moment) seat himself on his very ready and very eager cock. And Jim had been giving him everything he could possibly want, right? He looked over Sebastian’s lean body, still fully clothed, jacket fallen open a bit to display the last-minute braces, one hand tight still on the arm rest and the other raising the tumbler to his mouth.
It would just be too easy to give him that already.
Jim rested one hand on Sebastian’s left wrist, braced as it was against the arm rest, and climbed up onto the chair again. He straddled Sebastian’s thighs, feeling the tense jumping of the other man’s muscles against his inner thighs when the smaller man slid forward. Jim’s lips parted slightly as though a moan was breaking through his smile, but he kept himself silent as their bare cocks brushed together. He wanted to hear Sebastian. And the moment a sound seemed as though he would come from the taller sniper, Jim decided that hearing it just wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste it too. He leaned forward, pressing them together again, and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck as he covered the man’s mouth with his, kissing him deeply, possessively, with an odd connoisseur’s appreciation for the complex flavour of the man beneath him.
And then Jim left Sebastian’s cock alone and the sniper really couldn’t think through the press of emotions and feelings. His heart was pounding blood to every part of his body, his cock was swollen and he was still shivering a bit as Jim tapped on his thighs, remembering how cold his mouth was. He was taking deep breaths, eyes closed, mouth closed, nostrils flared as he kept himself under control.
He wanted Jim. He wanted him terribly. His hands were iching to pull Jim up and onto his cock, drive him down slowly and see the man wince and squirm. Sebastian swallowed, tasting the tobacco of the cigar, the smoke blending with the scotch as he clenched his jaw. He just wanted a bit of release, and all Jim was doing was teasing.
Shifting a bit as Jim climbed onto his lap again, Sebastian sat up straighter, curled his toes inside of his shoes as Jim pushed their cocks together. His breath came out in a slow his as Jim continued to push against him. It wasn’t anything that would get him off, not really. But it was maddening. Jim was controlling him - now with his tongue and teeth and lips as they kissed passionately. His free hand came up and wrapped around the back of Jim’s neck, keeping the man there.
“You’re killing me.” He muttered as their pricks brushed against each other again and Sebastian groaned aloud, putting his face against Jim’s shoulder before biting down, kissing his neck, his jaw, under his ear, pulled on his lobe and growled there.