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Sherlock was savoring his natural high, that’s what Moriarty’s games always gave him, a high that no substance could ever replicate, a form of euphoria that was only James Moriarty. He was certainly experiencing that buoyant high right now. Sherlock grinned eagerly heading into the abandoned building. He couldn’t help himself, really, he couldn’t. It was such a delightful spark that ran through his belly, such a lovely feeling to have his heart pattering in his chest- Sherlock had waited years for Moriarty to come back- to share their game once more.
Sherlock had been sitting in 221B, typing away on Twitter like a madman when it came. The greatest present he could ever receive for something as ordinary and nonsensical like the day of his birth. Normally, Holmes would deny anything given to him on a horrid morning like this.. But something like this doesn’t come often, and Sherlock would be a fool to look this specific gift horse in the mouth. What’s this present you may ask? A text. A text from an anonymous sender, which had already caused bubbling bursts of excitement in the pit of the detective’s stomach, but then it became so much more brilliant. Sets of numbers revealed themselves through code, and Sherlock furrowed his brows in thought. Oh, oh, this was so clever yet so obvious; how hadn’t he seen it from the beginning? Only one man- if you dare call him that could ever create a tantalizing puzzle such as this one. It was a game of coordinates hidden in dutiful codes, soon he organized and deduced the answers, it had taken him longer than he expected, but his games always had that exciting twist to them. As always however, the detective solved them and got exactly what he wanted from this puzzle. A single coordinate, which he was certain was sent by the deceased Jim Moriarty. It was utter brilliance, just like Moriarty to send something like this as a birthday gift- even when he was dead! Despite the high of knowing that Moriarty gifted him a case, from beyond the grave, Sherlock’s heart ached.. Since when did the memory of James Moriarty cause such a delusional pain? Since Sherlock had come to realize the matters of his heart that were thrown into their games- Moriarty truly did burn his heart out.. Sherlock pondered, did the mastermind even mean to have that effect on him? Did he feel the same way? It was a hopeless thing to wonder.. James Moriarty was dead, after all.
This very spot, on the coordinate plane of the Earth is where the younger Holmes brother stood now. Sherlock let out a jovial sigh, he crossed through the building in long strides searching for any signs of the next part of their game (or Moriarty for that matter). Sherlock should have been embarrassed by the arousal that was pooling in his stomach, but since nobody was there to judge him, he couldn’t find himself to care either. Sherlock Holmes was easily aroused by the games he played with Moriarty, he was an addict for many things, the Irishman included. The detective couldn’t shake the nagging thought that had itched into his mind upon arrival; what if James Moriarty is alive? What if he’s alive and he wants to play a more personal game? Sherlock shivered at the thought, he shouldn’t be getting his hopes up- A loud clang knocked Sherlock from all thoughts only to create more for his curious mind, he moved to check it out. Using his wit, Sherlock swiftly decided that the sound had come from a room to the left, judging by the reverberation of the sound it was a room of extravagant size- he spotted the only set of double doors down the hall (and on the proper side) and deduced that it must be the correct destination. Holmes ran into the ballroom of what was the abandoned hotel- Nothing he could have done would have prepared him for what he saw..
There was a large cake.. It wasn’t just large but more like gigantic. Sherlock stared in utter confusion. He suspected knowing Moriarty, that well, this did actually made sense for some thing he’d do, but the question still begged to ask: why? Why go through this entire game just for a birthday cake? Was this Moriarty’s doing, would he even wish Sherlock a Happy Birthday with a ridiculous cake of this proportion? Sherlock stepped cautiously towards the cake. “I know you’re here, Moriarty.” He called glancing around, he was so utterly perplexed he finally gave up trying to deduce what the fuck was going on. Leaving the clueless detective with the most hopeless face as he tried to understand the blasted dessert and what it could do with his nemesis. It crossed his mind a moment that it may be poisoned, shrugging the thought aside as something Moriarty would find equally boring, Sherlock took a finger of icing. He would’ve tasted it off of his finger if it weren’t for the fact that he could’ve sworn he heard rustling from inside the cake. No- it couldn’t be.. Sherlock stepped back, almost slipping in his hurried state. “Moriarty? Are you in there?” He murmured softly, was that a.. He wasn’t able to finish his thought, his deductions were correct, his mind boggled as the James Moriarty popped up from a cake- for him. Sherlock stared up in complete and utter shock, despite deducing it, he couldn’t believe that- that- James Moriarty was waiting for him inside of a cake to- to what? This was by far not an ordinary thing for an enemy to do, yet delightfully warming to the inside of Sherlock’s stomach. They stared a moment at each other, dark eyes glaring harshly into pale blues, “Happy Birthday, big boy~ Do you like it?” Jim licked his lips as he stepped out of the cake, in nothing but black lace lingerie, thigh-high stockings, and heels. He gave Sherlock a once-over (pausing momentarily over the rather large bulge in the detective’s trousers) and grinned wickedly, “obviously you do, naughty boy.” Moriarty swayed over, walking in a perfect catwalk. Sherlock checked his own pulse, he didn’t remember taking anything today. He hadn’t used since their game had restarted- was he hallucinating again? “B-but why?” He finally questioned, cursing his sudden weakness. He begged it not to be yet another dream. “I’m here to seduce you? I didn’t think that would be too hard to deduce,” James teased lightly. Sherlock practically wheezed when Jim’s soft fingers delicately made contact with his jaw. Obviously, he was dreaming. This couldn’t be happening, could it?
His mind stopped fighting the truth however when Moriarty’s soft lips met his, they were so warm. It felt even better than Sherlock had imagined it would, this was real. This was all real, and James jumped out of a cake for him and was kissing him. Sherlock’s mind was reeling and he just wanted this kiss to never end. Unfortunately for him, James pulled away. “Did you miss me?” The little devil grinned licking his own lips. He raised a brow at Sherlock’s surprised face, “too much too soon?” Jim frowned moving back a tad more, he glanced down at Sherlock’s erection. uncertainty crossed his features in seconds, and Sherlock didn’t want him to move away! He waned him closer again.. Jim bit his lip awaiting an actual reaction. Sure, James Moriarty was a criminal mastermind, but he wanted Sherlock to want this, just as much as he did. Sherlock finally came to, he glanced down smirking at James, taking in his entire appearance. James looked delicious. Black expensive heels with red soles and delicate sheer pinstriped stockings trailed up ending at his thighs with tight lace tops and garters keeping them flush and tight. The bulge, oh god the lace covered bulge is all Sherlock could focus on now. Sherlock’s gaze trailed up quickly and met dark brown eyes blown almost completely black as they glimmered in the dim lighting. “Like what you see?” James purred, hooking his arms around Sherlock’s neck. The detective shuddered, “yes.” Jim let out a soft yelp when Sherlock tugged his thigh-highs and snapped them back to pale skin. Sherlock couldn’t help the grin, nor could James help the way he hardened even more at the touch. Moriarty knew Sherlock noticed the effect he has and always had on him, he knew, and he loved it. They kissed again, more heated this time. Jim easily dominated the kiss, he nipped and chewed Sherlock’s lip as he took the man’s hand and lifted it. “What are you doing-” Sherlock was cut off by the pair of warm lips that attached to his finger sucking the long forgotten icing off the digit. Sherlock’s mind was dulled, he forgot even dipping his digit into the sweet frosting.. And a more urgent thought, how was James so good at this?
Sherlock was becoming dizzy with rapidly growing lust, he moved to grab his lover by his hips. “James,” he stammered, but Jim would have none of that. “Oh no, this is your birthday gift, my dear.” He gave a quick lick to Sherlock’s finger before lowering down to his knees. “I want you to fully enjoy yourself.. Let me take care of you, birthday boy.” Those words could have never sounded dirtier than when James whispered them just now. Sherlock watched, arousal swirling and building more just at the thought of what was to come. To say Sherlock was hard would be an understatement, he was so terribly turned on already, it actually hurt. He wanted James- no needed him. Jim unbuckled the detective’s belt with deft talent, before opening his slacks and sliding them down. He licked his lips as he eyed up at his prey, Sherlock felt electrifying shivers course through his spine. He faintly remembered dreaming about something like this before, on the plane in a different state of mind.. Yet, this was different, infinitely better. Why? Because this was real, this was happening. Sherlock closed his eyes squeezing them shut as James pulled his boxers down with his teeth.
“You’re leaking just for me,” Jim purred grinning up at Holmes. Sherlock opened his eyes, locking pale blues with pitch black coals. James looked so good on his knees, and that outfit… God, truly the Irish devil was mister sex. “James, you look appetizing down on your knees like that,” Sherlock murmured lust lacing his tone. He didn’t want to sound inexperienced, he felt his neck flush at the thought. “I’m glad you think so, honey. I don’t kneel for most…” James paused giving a quick lick to Sherlock’s oozing tip, making the man gasp. “But then again, you aren’t most..” Jim licked a stripe up the bottom of Sherlock’s hardened length. “Never thought I’d have the privilege..” He pumped Sherlock’s base, smiling as he spoke, giving a taunting swirl of his tongue around the tip. James gave a soft moan as he continued his teasing licks, it was truly a sight to see, the criminal mastermind that is Moriarty leaving teasing kitten licks along the famous detective’s stiff cock.
“J-James..” Sherlock found his hands tangled in (now) messy black hair, he resisted the urge to buck his hips, this wasn’t fair- He needed more. His face was becoming so flustered, Jim was being such a tease. “J-James, stop teasing,” he took a strong grip of the criminal’s hair, yanking it roughly only to earn such a delighted moan from the smaller man. “I- I need more- Ahhh-” Sherlock was cut off once more by Jim now taking his tip into his mouth, sucking hard and fast. He started taking more and more of Sherlock’s length into his mouth, slowly working his way up to the base. James continued this, bobbing his head, each time taking his lover as deep as he could; loving that his nose would press into dark pubic curls. The detective fought his urges, giving light uncontrollable thrusts into his lover’s mouth. Jim slapped his hands onto Sherlock’s lithe hips stopping the movement, he didn’t feel much like gagging today. Sherlock would have to be patient and accept what he was given at his partner’s pace, which was surprisingly fast James mused. His dark eyes glared into Sherlock’s, the detective furrowed his brows in an attempt of an apology. James rolled his eyes, pulling back and sliding his tongue around the man’s tip, apology accepted. Sherlock groaned and Jim giggled to himself, the fingers in his hair tightened and he mewled out a muffled noise. This was getting to be too much even for the criminal, he himself was so hard.. James spread his own legs, slipping his hand onto the lace covered bulge, and palmed into with a speeding rate. He wanted to finish with Sherlock, but refused to take away too much from his special night for his own personal desires. Moriarty moaned around Sherlock’s cock, the detective watched him fighting the sudden urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Now, with James pleasuring both himself and Sherlock, there was a gorgeous orchestra of moans and other sinful noises. Jim sucked the detective, sliding his head back and forth just as own hand was teasing himself through fine lace. Sherlock wasn’t going to last long, hips bucking into Jim’s wet heat. “James- so- so close.” By this time, Jim was jerking himself inside his panties, moaning and gasping. Sherlock closed his eyes, “James, I’m going to.. Ah- I’m going to-” Their gazes locked once more, Jim ordered Sherlock with only a look, and the detective came. His hips bucking madly until the stilled in a sudden stop, Sherlock was panting as his lover swallowed him whole. He grinned wickedly pulling off with a wet lewd pop. James seemed so pleased with himself, giving Sherlock a final lick and watching him groan, “that was fantastic. You were fantastic, Sherlock.” James praised him more, “fucking so good- ah.. Sherlock- watch me..”,all the while still working himself. He had Sherlock’s full attention once again, god, the way James looked was pure sin. “I ah- I waited so long for this, Sherlock. For this, and now for- for- I need to-,” Sherlock smirked at Jim’s words.
“Come, James, come for me” and with those baritone words, the criminal sat back onto his bottom, giving an even more delicious view of his own cock poking and prodding against his stomach out of his lacy panties. He came with a loud moan massaging his own tip, eyes closed tight. Sherlock didn’t think he had ever seen such a gorgeous expression before. He wanted to see that again.. And again.. And.. His thoughts were interrupted by a surprisingly bubbly Irish lilt, “happy birthday, Sherlock, I hope this was satisfactory,” James gave a small smile. “Satisfactory? James, anything that you could ever dream up inside of that brilliant mind of yours is perfection.“ The afterglow of orgasm making them both giggly. They shared a kiss that spoke more words than either could to explain the vast warmth that spread through them both. They could, would, and always will feel completed by one another.
“I do hope this is something I can expect again.. That is to say, I can expect you more often..” Sherlock smirked trailing off. “Oh, you certainly will be seeing more of me, darling.” And for the third time that night, Sherlock was given an even better gift than the last.. He was given a promise of so much more. “Now, let’s get you some cake.”