Desperate Measures

Story by Vorel Ashurha on SoFurry

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#2 of Johniarty

Written for a prompt on the Johniarty Tumblr:

"Prompt: While searching for blackmail material on John, Moriarty comes across a video on a gay porn site of a much younger John masturbating for money and forgets why he was originally searching.

Additional Information: Jim wants to see more of John and pursues him in some way. Either spying on him in intimate moments or seducing him."

I hope I did alright! I sort of want to make this a series. We'll see if I have the time.


The man with the key is king. Jim knew that well, so very well, and with Sherlock... well, John was the key. The army doctor was his right hand, his best friend, and the person who mattered above all else. John had changed Sherlock, and that sort of power was exactly what the consulting criminal needed. I'll need to ruin John to break Sherlock.

It was simple, of course. The man had a reputation, after all, that hinted at a wild youth. 'Three Continents Watson', a heartbreaker, a bit of a slag- there had to be things buried that the respected man wouldn't want to come to light. Embarrassing things, things that might even turn Sherlock against him.

Not long after hatching his plan, he found himself alone in his penthouse and bent over his laptop. His browser was cluttered with tabs open to different search results, for every variation of the doctor's name. Johnny Watson, John Hamish Watson, John Hamish Watson university, John Hamish Watson service record, JHW, Watson and Holmes... Boring, every single one of them. He was spotless, almost impossibly so, and Jim was starting to get frustrated. I could just kidnap him. Might be easier. On a whim, he tried one last time. Hamish Watson Uni, his fingers typed, wondering if maybe John had tried to distance himself from his plain first name.

Oh? No, that's impossible. Is that... really? Fuck...

Buried under a few pages of stories about John's grandfather, he found a very incriminating link to a hosting site for gay porn. "Hamish Gets Desperate," he read aloud, gears already turning in his head. "Naughty, Naughty, Johnny..." Without hesitation he closed the other searches and opened the video.

"How much?" There was no mistaking that voice. "Three hundred quid."

"And I won't have to...?"

"No, just you and the camera. I'll be outside."

John walked into frame, naked save for a pair of bright red knickers. He was muscular, a rugby body, and though this was obviously filmed while he was in uni, Jim could make out a few scars on his arm and chest. Abused, then, at home. The longer ones could be from a belt tearing his skin. His arm's been broken in the past few years.

John stretched out on the bed, and Jim could hear a door click closed. Those deep blue eyes looked right at him as he rolled his hips and took a breath. Amateur, but higher quality than most. Slightly staged, but he's nervous. Will he really be earning that money, then? Jim's thoughts quieted as one hand slid over John's tan skin. One thumb brushed his nipple and his breath hitched, and the criminal shifted in his chair. "O-ohn," John moaned, scratching a trail down to his navel. He stretched and flexed the muscles in his stomach, and god, he was damned sexy. He knew it, too, Jim could read it in the way he moved, the way his eyes never left the camera. He knows what to do, he's putting on a show. Did he do that for his girlfriends? Does he like wearing women's underwear?

On the screen, John had started to palm himself through the thin lace. Jim found it impossible to look away as the younger doctor dragged his teeth across his bottom lip. "Fuck... w-what do you want me to do?" He was addressing the viewer. Which, in this case, was Jim Moriarty. Touch yourself, Jim thought. Show Daddy that pretty cock.

John obliged, pulling his sexy knickers down and slipping himself free, He was big, christ, bigger than Jim had expected- at least seven inches, maybe eight, fuck, doctor... His fingers trailed around his head, slowly walking down the underside of his shaft. "Mmn, feels so good..." John was already hard, and from the look of it, he'd already teased himself before stepping into frame. Jim was a little disappointed. Why? Why do I want to watch him grow hard? I want to see him flaccid, I want to watch his blood flow...

"More... Oh, fuck, I need more..." John was properly stroking himself now, and it was hypnotizing. One hand played with his lace-covered sac as he writhed on the bed. "Johnny Boy, you just get more interesting..." Jim found himself running his hand along his own erection, imagining what the doctor's skin would taste like. There's sweat on his brow; how salty is it? Would he moan as I licked it from the hollow of his throat? Would he beg me for more? The boy was panting hard, gasping and twisting his hand- he knew what he was doing with that too, and oh, what a shame that he wouldn't put those talents to use. Unless he did, in the army. How dirty were you, Captain? Did you jerk off a Private or two when the nights were cold and lonely?

"Y-yes! Ohn! Oh, oh, fuck, I'm so close, I'm, I'm going to come..." And come he did, his cock pulsing a thin white stream over his chest and throat. He collapsed against the bed with a coo, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. A door opened offscreen and a fair-skinned man appeared, kissing John hard before dropping the money onto his bare skin. "You've earned it." John grinned up at him, the flirty little half-smile. "Thanks." He picked it off and stacked it up before kneeling up for the camera and running his hand through the mess on his torso. John even lifted his come-stained fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. "Maybe next time you can join me..." He fixed his knickers and stood, taking his money and walking off camera.

Jim played the video three more times, working his own prick in time with John's and matching every twist, every squeeze. "Y-yes! Ohn! Oh, oh, fuck, I'm so close, I'm, I'm going to come..." "JOHN!" Jim came with a ragged cry of his name, and fuck, it was good. Too good. Not good enough.

He needed more.

"Oh Johnny... I'm going to get you to make those pretty little noises for me."

Jim downloaded the video before turning in for the night, thoughts of ruining the veteran's reputation far from his mind. No, no... now he wanted to ruin John in a very, very different way.


The flat across the alley from 221B had been empty for months, and it was incredibly easy for Jim to break in. There was a window that provided him with a clear view of John's room, enough to see his bed and door. Perfect, perfect... Now I just need to wait.

It took a few hours for John to enter, obviously exhausted after a day of chasing Sherlock around London. There were no curtains on his window- the army training still made him rise with the sun, and as such, he liked to see it. Lucky me.

John started changing clothes, never once doubting his privacy. The layers that hide his physique fell away, one by one- the thick cable jumper, the button-down, the undershirt... Oh... What a scar, captain. Tell me, how does it taste? Across the street, John ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed and uneven. You look so good like that... I wonder how you'd looked after a hard fuck. Blue eyes wide, panting, dripping from every orifice... Don't stop, Doctor Watson. Let me see what the military did to those legs.

The doctor's trousers came down, and Jim's eyes widened- he was wearing a pair of bright red Y-Fronts, a rather startling piece of clothing for a man of his age. "Are you...?" Jim muttered under his breath as he squinted his eyes. Damn! Should have brought binoculars. John appeared to be half-hard, judging from the shadow cast against the cotton. He cast a look over his shoulder at his closed bedroom door. Just you and I, doctor. No interruptions. John climbed onto the bed and closed his eyes, his blunt hands sliding along his skin. Yes, this is what I want to see. Put on a show for me, Doctor.

His hand slid lower and, just like it had so many years before, began palming his cock beneath his pants. He was breathing a little hard, and every so often his hips rocked upward. Take them off, Johnny Boy. Let Daddy watch. Almost as if he could hear, the captain removed his ridiculous underwear and cupped his sac. It was more of him than Jim had ever seen, even in the video. The muscles in his arm flexed as he gently squeezed- he leaned his head back, mouth open in what had to be a quiet moan. That's right, you don't want Sherlock to know. This is your secret, your special time, and you don't want him to interrupt. Yes, yes... It's just you and me, Johnny, and I won't tell a soul. I love seeing you like this, open and bare, spread for my eyes and mine alone.

Jim undid his zip and slipped his erection free, slowly stroking himself in time with the doctor. He matched his movements, imagining those skilled surgeon's hands touching him, begging him to come... "Mmn, Johnny. I bet I could make you feel incredible. I bet I could get you addicted to my cock." Across the street, John had started working fingers inside of himself. Two seemed to be giving him trouble, so he dropped to one- it slid in with practised ease, and his body gave a jerk that Jim could easily attribute to a small bundle of nerves inside his body. "O-ohn, good boy, make your body sing for me, show Daddy how you like to be touched..."

He could feel his climax getting closer as he watched hungrily. John was close too, it seemed, with a visible sheen of sweat covering his skin. He was rocking his hips into palm even as his other hand pressed deeper, and fuck, it was incredible. The doctor was coming undone on his sheets, Jim wasn't far behind him. The muscles in his stomach began to tense. "Ohn! Oh, Johnny, yes!" As his hips lifted from the bed, he looked right at the window-

And right at Jim, who was leaning against his own, pumping his cock wildly. His eyes widened and he tried to stop, but he was too far gone. John's dick pulsed a steady stream of white across his stomach and chest, and Jim grinned at him as he spurted against the glass. "John!" He moaned, never looking away, not even as he cleaned the pane and tucked himself away. While John scrambled to wipe himself down and get dressed, Jim pulled out his mobile and began to text.

Saw your video, Johnny Boy. Very sexy. Just had to see you in action for myself. Same time tomorrow? -JM xx

Leave me the fuck alone. -JW

Oooh, that's no way to talk to Daddy. We both know you like being watched- your body couldn't deny it. Why don't we make this a regular thing? I watch you, you watch me, I send you little encouraging presents... and your secret stays safe with me. I'll wipe every copy of that video from the internet. I can break all the links without breaking a sweat. -JM xx

John licked his lips, looking from his phone to the window.

... Alright. -JW

Maybe down the road you'll let me join in. -JM xx

Don't count on it. -JW

Jim flashed him a knowing grin and winked at him.

You get off on danger, Johnny. You won't say no to me forever. -JM xx

... Same time tomorrow. -JW

You won't regret this, Johnny. In fact, I believe this is the start of something beautiful. Wear something lacy, Daddy likes a show. -JM xx

With that, he gathered his coat and left, still smiling to himself. You'll be mine soon enough, Doctor Watson. All mine. When Jim got home, he started making good on his promise. The video was rare, but he shut down twelve embedded copies over the six hours that passed. He found no others. And now, this little gem? It's just for you and I.

Maybe I'll make a video, just for you.

Now there was a thought.

--End--