Obedience (John Watson MD/James Moriarty)

John hated everything.
And that hate was part of him.
He had been born ordinary, not too tall, not too handsome, not too smart, and he had done everything to gain himself the label of 'special'.

When he managed to grab a degree in medicine and become captain of his regiment in the army, he really thought he had gotten somewhere.

Then it was all taken away from him. And after months in between life and death, he had been chucked back home, poor and jobless.

Months of emptiness brought him bitterness, and anger had become a constant in his life. Just as well as loneliness.

It didn't take him long to start hating people as well.

The odd jobs were just a consequence, and they gained him a name, by no time he was working permanently in a big criminal organization that answered to a name not a lot of people dared mentioning.
Moriarty.

Even after a year of working for them, John had seen the man only from afar, during a few of his missions.
He was younger than expected, fit and handsome in his smart suits, but with a glint of evil that made John's heart freeze.
He was no doubt a dangerous man, someone one should never cross, but people were stupid enough to do so.

John had tried to lay low, but his way of life always attracted attention.
He had moved into the headquarters of the organization after six months, and by the end of the year he had a string of lovers in between the staff that he used to get the steam out of his system. Some called him a whore, but it was mostly the ones he had rejected.
Anger was also something that often put him into troubles, fights and brawls a common occurrence, but it never interfered with his missions.

It had nothing to do with his job after all, and he always performed impeccably.

Until one day it all went to hell.
Maybe he just wasn't lucky, or he was too stupid.
He was assigned to an easy enough target, a corrupted politician who didn't know his place, but he was also given 2 teammates.
Said teammates turned up to be two guys he had fooled around with in the recent past.
He didn't really worry about Guy, but Henry was put into charge of the mission, and you could tell by the way he looked at John that he wasn't exactly happy of what had happened between them.

Maybe it was his bad temper, his rude replies, but their cover was blown in 30 minutes, Henry and Guy had gotten themselves arrested and even though John had managed to kill the politician with a crack shot from his handgun, he knew that he was in deep shit.

When the next day he was asked to go and see the flippant James Moriarty, he knew these could be his last few minutes on earth.

He dragged his feet as he walked up the stairs that lead to the man's quarters, wondering if he was going to be tortured before being granted death.
He really wasn't looking forwards to it, and when he was escorted into a richly furnished bedroom, his blue eyes moved around the place a bit worriedly in search of weapons that could be used on him.

"Who?" Jim hissed as he gripped his nails into the man's throat, squeezing it tight and cutting of the air. "John! John Watson." The man shouted, blood dripping from his face. The man had been hinting things about another employee but refused to speak his name out loud.

"Finish him."

--

Jim had been watching one of his employees more closely in the passed few months. Ever since one of his other employees had been complaining and hinting about this one's behavior. However he had never managed to catch him on being disobedient or making any mistake at all.

Lazily Jim was flicking through a boring file as he heard a formal knock on his door. "Yes." He spoke loud, not looking up to who was about to walk in.

"Sir. The mission had gone wrong." A shaking voice told him. Jim's eyes fluttered up, narrowing in anger as he took in the new information. The blonde man explained him everything and Jim felt a heat boiling up in his chest.

"Bring him to me, Moran." Jim demanded. "Tomorrow 12.30PM, room 48."

"R-room 48, sir?" The soldier repeated with slightly widened eyes.

"Yes." Was the only thing Jim replied before sending his man out.

The next day Jim was getting ready. He had plans for this John Watson. What he had done was unforgivable and he needed to carry the consequences of his own foolish actions. As the clock reached the exact hour, Jim swung open another door leading to the bedroom.

With his hands arrogantly stuck in the pockets of his over-expensive Westwood suit, Jim walked in. His eyes traveled over the floor and moved up on John, starting from his feet.

" I presume you're armed? " His rather high voice spoke. "I'd be disappointed if you weren't."

When he heard the door swing open, John started slightly. He was famous for his nerves of steel, but at the moment he was feeling a bit queezy. He was facing certain death after all, and all his control was tuned into making it a dignified one.

His muscles tensed considerably as the man he knew to be his boss walked closer, charm and power were oozing off his persona, and John could only stare for a long moment, captivated and quite a bit scared.

"I would be stupid not to be," he answered briefly once he found his voice again, his features schooling into a frown.
"That doesn't mean I will try to use them."

Jim laughed obnoxious as John's words as his head shook slightly. He always envied his workers for their nerves of steel, even if they were dying in the inside. Jim's neck tilted to the right and for a moment he just stood there, watching the man he had called in.

"Oh. No no." He eventually said, still shaking his head slightly. "You're not going to use it." A small grin spread out over his face as he once again took a step closer, bringing himself from only an arm length away.

"But I might." Said Jim, getting out his hand and holding it up in front of him, waiting for John to hand over his gun.

John looked up when he heard the man's obnoxious laugh, and he knew then that he was in for quite a ride today.
He took his handgun from his back pocket and handed it over to Jim, not flinching, not hesitating.

"I imagine it's useless to ask you to make it quick?" he said with a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling softly as they moved over the other's body.

Jim accepted the gun, twirling it around between his fingers without caring about the safety.
His eyes followed the movements of the gun, giving him some time to think about what to do with it. If he even wanted to use it.

He stopped, looking back at John. "I think it's useless to ask me anything at all.. John." Jim purred. He gripped the gun between his steady hands and pointed it directly at John's head.

"Such a shame, killing you, don't you think?" Jim asked, not expecting an answer. "People around here would miss you. No.. No wait let me rephrase that. They'd miss your services." He grinned.

John watched the other's fingers as they moved on his gun, it felt like an invasion of his privacy, that gun was his, no one else's, Jim was playing with it and he didn't like it.

He didn't like it particularly when it was pointed at his head either though, and his breathing seemed to stop for a long moment, the tension making his jaw clench.

"What?" he exclaimed, relaxing suddenly when he realized Jim wasn't going to kill him just yet. For a moment he didn't understand the other's words, and when the double meaning sank in, his face burned red with anger.

"You should be the one who would miss me the most, James, considering I have the highest hit rate in between your snipers, even compared to your dear pet Sebastian," he hissed, as usual unable to keep his mouth shut.

Jim didn't even change attitude or facial expression when John seemed to lose his temper, he was only getting entertained more and more every second.

"Oooh." He smiled. "You're a fierce one." His words come out extremely mocking.

"You see, Johnny boy." Him began, pretending as if he had to think about his words. "No one is irreplaceable. I've got people lining up around the corner willing to do anything it takes to get your job." His smile faded and it became clear that playtime was over by now.

" And oh, there's no doubt about you having the highest hit rate. I wonder, how many people have you pointed your gun at?"

"I am sure you have plenty of scumbags who would want to work with you, but that doesn't mean they can be better than me," he said simply, confident, if not for the simple fact that he had managed to finish his mission the day before even though Henry and Guy had stupidly blown their cover.

His face burned red again, and he knew he was playing with fire. No one could talk to him like that though, and deep down, he liked the danger, he fed on the risk.
"What does it matter?" he asked, his eyes sparkling softly as they restlessly moved on the other's impenetrable face. "Unless you are jealous I haven't pointed it at you," he concluded with another smirk.

" It just takes some more training and experience." He shrugged. Beside Seb, John had been the only one who had managed to keep up this long, Jim knew how qualified his gunman was however he didn't like pointing it out like that. Not after he had caused 2 of his other men to end up in jail.

Jim's eyebrows shot up in frown. "Do I have any reason to be jealous?" He said smiling a little, his eyes traveling down over John's chest and stopping at his crotch for a few seconds before he looked back up. "Not to mention I could destroy that pride of yours with one simple motion." Jim lowered his gun, now pointing it at John's crotch with the most evil smile covering his face.

"Well, maybe you should have trained Henry and Guy to be a tiny bit more professional. Chicks would have behaved better," he commented and felt himself swallow at the other's gaze. It had an intensity John had never seen before.

"No reason," he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "As you pointed out earlier my services are up for everyone," he hissed, closing his eyes as he saw Jim point his gun at his crotch. Damn. That was unexpected.
"That's low, James, even for you," he said, looking at the ceiling.

"If you behaved yourself in the first place, they would never gotten in this very inconvenient situation." He said ever so calm. "And you wouldn't be either." Jim said, slowly removing the safety pin, making the gun ready to fire any moment now.

"I've done worse for a lot less, John." Jim pointed out before he pulled the trigger. Jim had pointed the gun just underneath John's legs, making the bullet go in between them and hit the wall. Jim grinned wide and walked closer to John; not giving him a second to catch his own breath. His fingers gripped around the other's throat and squeezed it tight. "You better give me a good reason why I missed that shot." He hissed. "Don't make me regret it."

"If they hadn't been complete morons they would have never gotten into this bloody situation," he insisted, annoyed that he was blamed for their uselessness. He had just fucked them, how was he supposed to know they would be bloody jealous? It was ridiculous! It wasn't like they were together or anything along that line.

John started and gasped helplessly when the gun went off, the bullet oh so close he was ready to faint.
"Jesus Christ," he mumbled, and he was rather sure James was not lying when he said he could do much worse for less.

He didn't really have time to do anything though, the other's hands around his throat and his own flying to his wrists to try to stop him as he fell to his knees.
His throat and wind pipe squished in a vicious grip, John couldn't really talk, but his words were audible at some point in between the wheezing breaths.
"Fuck... you..." he hissed, blue eyes filled with dangerous anger.
Oh no, John wasn't going to beg.

Jim loved the fear on the other's face, he loved how John fell on his knees when he gripped his throat. This was pure entertainment. Jim wasn't able to wipe to grin away from his face.

"Excuse me?" He said playfully. "You want to... Fuck me?" He pretended to be surprised and shocked by the choice of John's words.

As breathing became harder and harder, John couldn't keep his eyes into Jim's, and they slid down the other's body, stopping at what was exactly in front of him.

Bloody hell!

Oh, there was so much he could say, so much he could retort, but he didn't have enough air to do so, and at the moment he just wanted to wipe that demonic grin off the other's lips.

He considered his options.
He didn't have enough energy to punch, and even if he tried, he hated to think about the repercussions.

Jim was getting off on this, he liked the power, he liked the violence.
John could repay him with the same currency.
So he stopped fighting, his hand unwrapping itself from the other's wrist and he reached ahead, cupping the tent in the Jim's pants and kneading it as much as he could from his position.
Just let go... I need air...

Jim slowly noticed the red on John's cheek turning pale with a shade of blue. John's grip getting looser. He could end it right here and now, however that wasn't his intention. He had so much more things planned for this one.

Just as he was about to get to the next stage as he felt John's hands retrieving from his own. He gazed down and saw where his hands were traveling to. Once they were on the bulge in his pants, Jim gasped slightly. His hands released their grip from John's throat.

"You're such a bad boy, John." Jim whispered, slowly stroking his finger down over John's cheek.

John wheezed and coughed, before taking in several deep breaths, he needed air for his mind to start working again.
The feeling of Jim's finger on his cheek was the first coherent impulse that made it to his brain, it made his eyes move up again, his hand still on the other's crotch.

His throat was burning, but he spoke anyway. "I learned from the best," he hissed, and his eyes sparkled dangerously before he moved. His arm shot out quickly and wrapped around Jim's knees, it pulled roughly making him buckle to the floor.

The next second he was straddling Jim's thighs and pinning his wrists to the floor.
"If I did fuck you," he hissed, hovering over his face. "You'd have the best time of your life..."

He slid closer to his neck, lips grazing over the skin until they reached his ear. "You would not be able to think about anything else... you would obsess over my cock... and getting off on petty violence won't be enough for you any more..."

Jim was about to tell John to man up, when he was roughly brought to his knees. "Oooops." He yelped as his knees painfully collapsed. Jim had no time to put up any kind of defense as John was already all over him, pinning him to the floor. Somehow, this all made things so much more arousing.

Jim felt shivers running down his spine when his lips connected to the soft skin on his neck. "You are really full of yourself, John." Jim said arrogantly, as if the situation let him cold. His body however showed different, his cock was pulsing painfully inside of his costume trousers.

"What makes you think I'd let you do that, when I could easily satisfy myself by doing you?" He whispered. "Why would I grant you any favours at all?"

"Look who's talking," he muttered with a chuckle, pulling a bit away to look into the other's eyes. He could see the lust, deep down, hidden, even though his body was showing it quite clearly, his expression was cold.

"Maybe because you want to know what it is that makes two snipers with a good record fight in the middle of a mission, what makes them lose their head and end up in prison," he said slowly, eyes daring, his fingers tight around the other's wrists.

He leaned even closer, their breathing mingling, "I am flattered that the mighty James Moriarty is even considering doing me," he muttered with a smirk.

"I'd do anyone I want. Don't feel special." Jim hissed back.

He licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes just staring up to the ceiling as yet another shiver ran all over his needy body. "And you'd like to believe your great deeds have put my snipers there?" Jim replied. "What if they just weren't as good, if they lose their disguise over something so silly as sex." Jim made his knee come up, pressing hard against John's crotch.

"You deserve punishment, not pleasure." He whispered. "I could offer you both though, as a sort of middle way. Because I do like you, John, oh I do." Jim pressed his knee up even harder, making it rub against the fabric of John's trousers.

"I'll let you fuck me, but you won't be allowed to fuck anyone else. You won't even be allowed to touch yourself when you feel the need to." He grinned.

"Oh, you break my heart, Jim, I thought I was special to you," he said sarcastic, his nails digging in the other's wrists. "Are there so many people that you want then? Should I be jealous?"

He laughed slightly at the words about the two snipers. "We both know how good they were... and we both know they were morons," he said simply, "But they wanted me, they really wanted me, so much they forgot about duty."

"I really don't like discipline, Jim, and I don't like punishments... give me respect, and I will protect you with my life," he muttered honestly, his eyes focusing on him.

His heart skipped a beat when Jim got free enough to rub his knee against his crotch, blood rushing down to it, the mere idea of fucking his boss was making him dizzy.

The thought of never doing anyone else was rather ridiculous though. How was he supposed to survive with that?
"You think you can keep me on a leash?" he asked, amused. "I need to be kept satisfied, Jim..."

"I don't care whether you like punishments or not." Jim simply replied. "I have enough people securing my protection." For Jim it was rather simple. He didn't like not being in control of the situation, however he did like John having physical control over him. He had to bite down his lower lip to not moan in pain when he felt John's nails digging through his skin.

"You need to understand that what you did was something I'm not tolerating. You drove two of my men insane and I do believe that's not your division." He explained, his voice lower then usual.

" No leash needed if you obey. If not, honey, next time I won't miss that shot." Jim stared back onto John's eyes. He could see the danger and lust flicker through.

"I know I can keep you satisfied, eventually." He whispered, moving his head as close as he could get to John.

"You have many people securing your protection, but how many of them really care if anything happens to you?" he hissed, knowing all of them other than Moran would be easily bought. It probably didn't matter now because no one was able to outsmart Jim, but he knew that in the long run, it was what could make the difference in between life and death.

John frowned at the other's accusation. "I did not do it on purpose. They are the morons who can't separate sex from work," he pointed out simply, he truly didn't think he had done anything wrong, he hadn't made it a secret that he was in it for the sex and wasn't going to be faithful. They all thought they could change him though. Quite ridiculous.

"Smug bastard, aren't you?" he hissed, Jim's voice low, it seemed to speak directly to his crotch, and he couldn't help but lean closer, their lips almost touching. "I like the risk though... I love playing with fire, Jim," he said with another smirk. "You all say the same, think you can keep me satisfied... but no one was ever able to..."

"Oh but I really don't leave you a choice you see. It's your life dangling on a line, not mine." He pointed out. It would only take him one simple movement to have John killed within seconds.

Jim's knee kept rubbing against John and he could feel him growing harder by the second. Of course Jim longed to have that inside of him, but he wasn't going to let John have control.

Jim moved his head up, gritting his teeth in John's lower lip and biting down on it really hard. His teeth grinding over the soft wet skin.

John's body shook as Jim bit on his lower lip, he felt the skin quickly becoming sore and he responded with an open mouth kiss that felt rather sensual even for him.

Jesus, I just want this man...

"Why don't you just do it now then?" he asked, pulling away just slightly, his hips rubbing back against the other's knee, showing just how heavy and hard he felt.

"You could just kill me off and have one of the others here at my place, and God knows they would love to fuck that pretty arse of yours," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.