The door slammed open no preamble to the gesture.

In truth, Moriarty had not even heard feet in the hall.

He saw Mycroft move long before the man had perched on the edge of the table, his open thighs mere inches from Moriarty's body the chair.

"Mr. Moriarty."

The criminal smiled.

"Mycroft, how good of you to join me."

His eyes moved to gaze at the politician's crotch.

"I see that you came prepared."

Mycroft smirked, his nose wrinkling with the venom of it.

"Yes. It appears you have left me in a most undesirable position. I'm afraid that I'll have to act upon this."

Moriarty rolled his eyes, a frown fixing itself firmly into place.

"Seriously?Of every possible line to drop THAT is the one you choose. Honestly it's like all of your pick up lines comes from cheap porn and-"

The politician sighed, unwinding his tie from his neck before wrapping it around his hands.

"James you are asking for me to gag you."

He smirked.

"Now you're talking. Sir."

He purred the last word, forcing Mycroft to shift in his seat, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Then again I'd miss that...wit of yours."

Moriarty grinned madly.

"You wouldn't miss the wit, sir, if you would move this ALONG."

Mycroft smirked once more, sliding forward slightly.

"What will it take to get the information I need from you?"

Moriarty slammed forward in his seat, the burn of the head restrain biting into his skin.

"Hit me. Touch me. DO something. Don't just let me sit here all soft and defenseless while you ask nicely for information. Make me give it To you. Just fucking touch me."

The politician smiled.

A genuine smile.

"What?"

One that had Moriarty's anger clenching in his troat.

His body calming within his bonds.

"WHAT?"

He was absolutely terrified.

Mycroft stood, taking painstaking care not to allow any contact between himself and the madman before him.

He walked around him slowly, allowing just enough distance so that Moriarty could feel the heat radiating from him.

He slowly unlatched the head restraint, the tear of the Velcro painfully loud in the still silence of the room.

"You see James."

Moriarty frowned at the use of that name, but said nothing, instead flexing his neck slightly with the freedom it had regained.

"I have you caught in exactly the scenario that I desire."

The madman began to shake.

Fury and barely concealed disappointment vibrating through his body.

His jaw clicked into a pout, signally to the British Government that the current talkative mood was over.

"You leave me no choise really."

Mycroft said after a time, his fingers tracing the forming bruise on the madman's head.

He shiver at the heat of the politician's fingers tracing his damaged skin.

"It will be as you wish."

Moriarty turned abruptly, impossibly dark eyes brimming with anticipation.

Want.

Defiance.

Mycroft trailed his wandering fingers lower, running them down Moriarty's jawline, pressing on each bruise lightly, drawing hisses of pain from clenched teeth.

"All you have to do, James, is speak. One word and I'll stop."

He stepped back, gaining a glare from the madman.

"Or not. It's entirely your decision."

Silence.

Mycroft dug his fingers in, pressing into his collar bone and under the collar of his t-shirt, finding a particularly painful bruise and twisting, pulling the skin.

The consulting criminal couldn't fight the moan that ripped from his throat.

His teeth bared down. clicking as Mycroft's hand explored.

He brought his hand back up and savagely gripped the criminal's jaw, twisting his face to meet him.

Moriarty felt the sharp digging in his jaw.

Felt the involuntary tears burn behind his eyes.

He fought the urge to resist, instead focusing on the pain.

The closeness.

The contact.

God was it arousing.

He wanted more.

So much more.

"You will not move. Not one muscle unless I tell you. Do you understand?"

The madman didn't move.

Didn't even blink.

He understood perfectly.

And god did he want to obey.

Mycroft pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket, keying open the arm restraint at te dame time as he clicked it over Moriarty's wrist.

He opened both leg shackles slowly, letting his hands run across the cloth covered skin.

For his part, Moriarty held himself admirably, barely twitching when Mycroft grinned at -and then caressed-the prominent bulge in his trousers.

Nor did he visible react when the feather light touches of the man between his knees turned into full fledged groping.

He bit his lip to keep from moaning, earning a reprimanding pause from Mycroft.

The politician looked up from his crouch, only to stare at the underside of the madman's jaw.

"I do believe that I specifically instructed you not to move."

All of Moriarty's muscles went ridged, his teeth releasing his lip.

"Better."

Mycroft spread Moriarty's legs, hands lightly trailing over his inner thighs.

The madman dutifully remained still, despite the urge to leap up and attack Mycroft.

"I'm to remove your trousers now. You will lift your hips and allow it. Any objections must be vocalized."

Moriarty simply swung his legs up on either side of the politician, bracing his legs against the bolted down table in front of them.

Mycroft smirked, gripping the waist band at the awkward angle and tugging, trousers and underwear rubbing against the bruised flesh of the madman's thighs.

As soon as they were to his knees, Mycroft gripped the legs beside him and forced them down.

The criminal hissed as the cold metal hit his ass, and then again as Mycroft's tongue found it's way to his now exposed cock.

One firm lick up his shaft had garnished a more vocal response than he had wanted to give, but fuck if that felt good.

Mycroft pulled back, his hands still on Moriarty's thighs, but nowhere near close enough to where he wanted them.

"You know-"

He stated, rubbing his fingers over the bruises on the criminal's thighs.

"I'm seeing three possible directions at this point."

He dug into one particularity nasty bruise, earning a gasp and an excited twitch from Moriarty.

"The first, I simply suck you to completion in this position, leaving you satisfied and me completely aroused."

He ghosted a warm breath over the madman's cock, earning a shiver.

"The second, I bring you to the brink over and over again until your keening, only to bend you over the table and fuck you until I'm sated, regardless of your condition."

That one struck a cord.

He saw Moriarty's hand clench and his breathing quicken.

"Or the third, and most agreeable. I do both."

Jet-black eyes peered down at him from above, terror and unbridled lust filling them.

"The thing is, I need to know which one you would prefer."

His hands continued there rhythm of caressing and digging.

No response.

"Which will it be James?"

The madman's eyes closed as Mycroft ran a finger over his shaft.

"Or will I simply have to leave you like this and go deal with me self elsewhere."

Those eyes flew open and he jerked forward.

"Three!"

His unshackled wrist flew to his mouth, the handcuff hanging from it.

Mycroft chuckled, before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"See James? That wasn't so terribly difficult."

Moriarty simply glared at him, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. You got me. I spoke. Now, get on with it."

The politician obliged, lowering is lips to surround the head of Moriarty's cock, his tongue flicking the slit.

He moved with agonizing restraint, slow movements dragging guttural moans from the madman's throat.

Moriarty went to touch the politician's head, and was met with a strong hand pulling his wrist away, clicking the other cuff over his still bound wrist.

"Oh come on."

The politician hummed, sending electricity through the madman.

Moriarty strained in his seat, fighting the urge to thrust his hips up.

To wrap his legs around the British Government and take.

He shivered as talented lips constricted and released, tight, wet heat focusing his thoughts.

Cheeks hollowed and he saw stars, his ears ringing as the madman came to the edge.

He felt himself shout, the words lost behind the white noise of his climax.

There was no chance for him to come down slowly.

No reprieve.

Mycroft's hands were already getting back to work, caressing and massaging the over-sensitized flesh, sending shock waves of arousal through the madman.

"Are you just going to sit there and torture me or are you going to do something about that."

He pointed a finger at extremely obvious bulge in the politician's trousers.

Mycroft frowned, confused.

"Have you forgotten exactly why you are here?"

Moriarty's smirk fell.

Oh.

Right.

It was torture.

Shit.

Mycroft saw the slip in personality and knew that perusing the crack in the facade would hinder any further attempts at gathering information.

"Or are you simply that desperate for a good fuck?"

Moriarty took the escape to nod.

"Thank you for finally getting SOMETHING right."

Mycroft simply nodded, standing from his crouch and stretching languidly.

The madman enjoyed the up-close-and-personal view of the politician's body, his own body responding to it.

There was the sound of metal clicking against metal as Mycroft quickly keyed open the second cuff, leaving Moriarty only bound to himself.

"Dangerous thing that you've done here sir."

Mycroft hummed, seating himself on the table.

"Possibly, though I'm sure that the you'll behave yourself."

Moriarty grinned devilishly, moving to his knees on the cold concrete before Mycroft could register the change.

He pressed himself again's Mycroft's legs, face nuzzled against his crotch.

The politician's breathing hitched slightly.

"May I deal with this-"

He pressed his mouth against the bulge, moist heat enveloping Mycroft's senses.

"-sir?"

He shivered, but steeled himself.

" I don't believe that this-"

Another skillfully placed movement of the madman's tongue.

"-is what we agreed upon James."

Moriarty shrugged, bringing his cuffed hands up to undo the fly of Mycroft's trousers.

"It's m you want the information from, shouldn't it be me who-"

Mycroft backed himself into the table, gripping the criminals cuffed hands and jerking him to a stand, hands above his head.

"Let me tell you one thing, and i'll make it very clear."

He spun their positions around slamming Moriarty's waist into the table, cuffed hands still above his head.

"The only one in control here is me. understood?"

Moriarty nodded, the jolt of pain igniting his thus far waning arousal.

"YES SIR."

Mycroft grinned, pulling the madman's arms back just enough for the muscles to burn before leaning in, his breath hot against the smaller man's ear.

"I had hoped that you would behave long enough for me to bring you to the brink again and again and again."

He gripped Moriarty's hip with a free hand, yanking his ass back to grind his own hips against it.

"But as you can see your behavior has made that concept irrelevant."

He bit at a particularly nasty bruise that peeked out from under the madman's shirt.

"I do believe it's time that we progressed to the main portion, don't you?"

The criminal barely whimpered.

Mycroft sighed, tugging harder at his arms.

"I do believe I asked you a question James."

Moriarty gasped.

"Yes. Sir. I DO agree...sir."

Mycroft released the cuffs, the sudden lack of support sending the criminal face first onto the table.

Moriarty groaned as the politician gripped his hips, the angle keeping him from moving his hands anywhere near his already straining erection.

He heard a soft ripping noise before he felt liquid ice pour between his spread ass cheeks.

He hissed at the cold and then groaned at he burn of a slick finger probing at his entrance.

The madman forced himself to relax around the sudden intrusion, willing away the tension to alow the pleasure pain of it all

One fingers became two and two became three as Mycroft was quick with his preparations, knowing that the criminal beneath him would not last for too much longer.

Moriarty registered the sound of a foil packet opening and felt the sudden loss of contact as the politician rolled on the condom.

Another rip attention what was presumably another packet of lube being applied to Mycroft's cock while Moriarty fidgeted impatiently, cock pressed painfully against the cold metal table, twitching with anticipation.

Mycroft gripped Moriarty's hips once more, fingers diggining into flesh as he sheathedhimself quicklY, a strangled cry choking from the madman's mouth.

Neither man moved as they adjusted, Moriarty to the sudden painful fullness, and Mycroft to the excruciatingly tight heat.

"Moriarty moaned and wriggled his hips in an attempt to get the larger man to move,but Mycroft refused.

"Tell me."

The criminal grunted slamming his hips back forcefully.

The politician withdrew completely.

"Tell me James."

Moriarty grit his teeth, before shouting.

"Fuck me! Please just fucking fuck me."

Mycroft obliged, lining himself up once more before slamming in, bringing tears to Moriarty's eyes.

A few shallow strokes had the criminal moaning, and then he thrust in deeper, driving himself straight into the madman's prostate.

He screamed, white blurring the edges of his vision with the sensation of it.

Mycroft kept up the pace, a few short strokes and a slam, bringing Moriarty to the edge and backing him from it.

It was only as he himself neared his climax that the rhythm changed.

He pulled nearly completely out with each stroke, slamming back in viciously and repeating, over and over again.

Mycroft reached around and gripped Moriarty's leaking cock in his hand, giving two sharp stroked before the mad man came once more, his cum coating the table top and setting the his own shirt in the process.

A few more stuttering thrusts and Mycroft was coming aswell, his release adding to the excruciating fullness the criminal already felt.

Mycroft stepped back, billing out and peeling off the condom, tying the end and tossing it into the wastebasket at the corner of the celL

He tucked himself into his trousers once more, straightening each button while Moriarty remained rawled in a pudle lf his own come.

Sated.

He began rattling of various words and number sequences that Mycroft didn't understand.

He didn't have to.

They were on film.

Without another word Mycroft Holmes left James Moriarty.

Spent.

Cold.

Alone.

And in Silence.