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Jim froze, a growl that wasn’t identifiably human emanating from his chest in response to the phone’s interruption. He tried to pull back from Sebastian’s wet kisses, only for the man to follow his mouth eagerly.
Sebastian gasped as the movement buried the toy deeper inside of himself, and Jim reluctantly broke free. He snatched up Sebastian’s hair and pulled the blond backwards, forcing a groan from Seb as the toy shifted again.
Jim grabbed for the phone with his other hand. “The only reason I’m stopping to answer this is because it’s about your welfare,” he snarled, feeling Most Put Out about pausing at all, and very much feeling a need to snap at someone about it.
Jim answered the call tersely. “Well?”
“The results are ready,” the doctor said redundantly.
Jim tilted the phone screen to Sebastian and hovered over the speakerphone option. Seb stared dazedly at it for a moment before catching up and shaking his head: he could hear just fine.
Jim shifted away slightly, stroking the side of Sebastian’s head softly. “And?” Jim demanded. “How is he?”
“Healthy as a horse, for the most part,” the doctor said. “Only thing of note is an elevated red blood cell count. Given that Mister Moran is a smoker, the two are likely linked. Naturally the recommendation would be to-”
Jim cut the doctor off with a chuckle and curled his fingers around Seb’s hair, meeting the eyes that were the exact shade of blue as the stone beneath them. “He’d be a fucking terror if I tried to take his smokes away from him,” Jim told the doctor. He rolled his hips chidingly against Sebastian and gave a small, teasing smile as Seb tried to bite back the noise provoked by their shifting weight and the toy inside of him. “He’s difficult enough to live with at the best of times,” Jim added, smiling with his eyes as he circled his hips some more.
“We could provide nicotine replacement therapy,” the doctor said hesitantly. “That might help with the moodswings associated with withdrawal.”
“Patches would probably be no good for his oral fixation,” Jim pretended to muse, his fingers trailing down to stroke Seb’s lips mockingly. “Send me an email about his options, will you, and I’ll see that he looks it over thoroughly.” Jim ground into Sebastian firmly enough to make the man groan despite his pride and annoyance.
“What about everything else?” Jim asked seriously. “Is he well enough to recommence his usual duties? Prolonged, strenuous activity? Moments of stress?”
“Mr Moran is fit as a fiddle,” the doctor said. “His high RBC count isn’t significant enough to worry about clotting at this stage, and all his other results look good; what you’d expect in a fit man of his age.”
Jim smiled widely and cupped Seb’s cheek, pointedly giving the things on the bed behind them a long look over. “He’ll be so thrilled to hear that,” Jim said. Sebastian looked a sliver less cocky, but lifted his chin defiantly anyway. Jim grinned and forced a quick, quiet kiss onto Seb’s lips in response.
“And my results?” Jim asked evenly.
“I don’t suppose you would be inclined to consider quitting smoking yourself?” the doctor asked.
Jim frowned. “Me?” He barely smoked, except for stealing a companionable one from Sebastian, or if he was stressed… which was a lot recently. “High red blood cell count?” Jim asked.
“Just slightly,” the doctor said.
Sebastian grew tense under Jim.
“Slightly high white blood cell count as well. Nothing significant enough to be concerned over at this stage, but worth keeping a bit of an eye on. Still,” the doctor continued cheerily, “given your usual issues with anaemia and low iron, an uptick in your red blood cell count is a nice problem to have, no?”
Jim grunted.
The doctor continued, “The elevation in your WBC numbers could however be a sign of infection or inflammation. I’d suggest taking it easy for the next few days and keeping in touch if you feel poorly.”
“I see,” Jim said. “Naturally you’ll email me everything?”
“Of course, sir-“
Jim disconnected the call. Well. So that was that then.
Two tigers in the house was going to be a logistical delight to deal with. And would Jim’s cycle even match Seb’s? Was the moon the main factor, or did the days from the infection matter? There was an obvious date of Seb’s injury, but Jim could have been infected any time since Seb had been brought home.
Jim looked at Sebastian. “If we’re going to have to spend a week or so apart every month to keep from killing each other we might as well make the most of the fun times, don’t you think?”
Jim nipped Seb’s lower lip.
~
Sebastian stiffened slightly when Jim pulled his head back by the hair, like an intrusive pet being moved out of the way by its scruff. The shifting plug didn’t much help with lifting the sexual haze from his brain, but he finally did make a weak attempt to look contrite about the disruption being caused by matters of his welfare.
And no, Jim didn’t need to turn on the speakers, he could hear the conversation just fine, both sides of it. That new and still somewhat freakish enhancement of his senses did grow on him!
Unlike some of the things he heard, like the usual rarara about quitting smoking. Thankfully Jim dampened that harebrained idea of the doc, because even without that Mr Moran was difficult to live wi– what?
‘Me?!’ Sebastian mouthed with a glare. Jim grinned and Sebastian huffed through his nose when Jim took to stroking his head instead of pulling his hair, like keeping the aforementioned pet occupied while he was on the phone. Sebastian leaned into the touch, not without rolling his eyes to the ceiling when Jim promised to make him go over some kind of quitting schedule. Fucking right, due to his oral fixation, patches would be of no use whatsoever.
Sebastian concurred with a swirl of his tongue around Jim’s finger, before suddenly closing his teeth around it and Jim swatted at his nose and ground down on him, all while continuing his conversation with the doctor. Even though, judging from the direction of his gaze to the items on the bed, it was unlikely that with prolonged, strenuous activity and moments of stress he and the doc meant the same things.
So, yes, yes, yes - everything was fine, as expected, so could they continue now -
But Sebastian grew very still, feeling a touch of vertigo when it came to Jim’s result, his blood work displaying in part similar changes like the doctors had found in Sebastian’s when turning him inside out after India. Well, the WBC elevation could be easily explained by the injuries Jim had sustained, or rather inflicted on himself over the past days, and which had not gotten exactly state of the art care, had they? Apart from the odd bandage and a few erratic doses of antibiotics.
“The red blood cell count could just be a glitch, right?” Sebastian offered when the call had ended. “Maybe you’re now simply within the normal range of a warm-blooded vertebrate, what with working out much more regularly…” He pointedly tensed his hips underneath Jim.
“And even if…” he looked slightly put out about the possibility Jim brought up, “we’re not going to spend a week apart each month. We’ll find another way not to kill each other.” Well, in feline shape anyway.
But one way or another, there was no reason not to make the most of tonight, Jim was right about that.
“Yes, please,” Sebastian murmured and started doing just that by stealing another kiss when Jim nipped his lip.
~
Jim had very much been enjoying their playful interactions during the phone call to the doctor. Not everyone got Jim’s jesting, but Sebastian tended to. Jim was often too much or too subtle or too strange, but he and Seb not only managed to share verbal jokes but even this queerly domestic and comfortable physical silliness, with Seb nipping Jim’s finger and Jim having to juggle the phone to bat at Seb to retrieve the prisoner.
When Seb’s merrymaking dwindled with his shrinking smile in response to Jim’s results, something sank in Jim’s already cooling middle. Jim did not much relish the prospect of enduring the transformational woes Sebastian had either, nor the associated risks.
Jim cracked a weak smile as Seb rushed to reassure him, or them both, that nothing was certain yet, and broke the ice a little with a little joke that had him grinding up against Jim.
“All I am is a hard dick to you, amn’t I?” Jim scoffed. He tossed the phone aside and kissed Sebastian’s hair. “You’re right that we can’t say for definite yet that I’m infected too, but best to prepare for the worst and anything better than that is a gift.”
Jim’s brows rose as Sebastian told him -told him, like the man had equal say in their lives- that they would be finding an alternative to Jim’s frankly sensible declaration that they’d be apart during what was likely to be their most volatile week.
“Sebby,” Jim said slowly, “darling, I know you like to live dangerously, but it took every ounce of my stubbornness and general fondness for you not to torture and kill you for your frankly appalling temper over the past month - and especially all of last week. I live on a knife’s edge of being in charge of my own temper at the best of times. You really want to gamble your life on us co-existing peacefully when I’m likely to be the most ill-tempered and aggressive you’ve ever known me to be?”
Jim searched Sebastian’s face, not understanding the man at all. Then he looked away.
“Besides,” Jim muttered, “tigers are territorial. If we both… change… there’s a high likelihood we’ll fight.” Jim shrugged his shoulders stiffly. “I’m not threatened by how big or strong or deadly a man you are, because I’m fast and smart and fucked up. But take away who I am? My ability to outsmart and generally be more brutal than an opponent? Tiger you might rag doll my throat and spine in separate directions. And even if you don’t kill me, I can’t promise I wouldn’t kill you if you hurt me badly.”
Jim bared his teeth. “So yes, I’m inclined that we both live, actually.”
The nip to Sebastian’s lip became a kiss, and Jim pushed closer. His flagging interest renewed as the plug caused Seb’s breathing to shiver against Jim’s mouth. “Are you ready to play, or do you have any more input on our lives, precious?” Jim grumbled against Sebastian’s lips.
He glanced guardedly into Seb’s gaze.
~
“Look who’s talking,” Sebastian mumbled. Being accused of … objectifying Jim Moriarty of all people was so ludicrous Sebastian almost blurted out laughing. “A very beautiful dick though,” he said approvingly, with an attempt to restore a straight face. “Lucky I am just a ‘collection of warm holes’, so … ” His mouth twitched as he shrugged as a sign that there was nothing you could do against divine providence, “a match made in heaven, right?”
But the last part of the phone call was not so amusing. Things were surreal and complicated enough as it was, but the possibility that he might have infected Jim as well was hard to bear. Of course Jim’s conclusions were those of logic and reason (or what passed for that in this new setting), but Sebastian didn’t back down as easily as he still would have not too long ago.
“Well, you managed to live with my temper these past weeks, I have a much more saintly disposition… ”
His logic was a bit flawed, because if it came to the worst they would both be at their worst at the same time, but that didn’t deter him from applying it further: “You flipped your lid when I offered to hole up in Wales for a week.” Whether it was because Jim didn’t want to miss the spectacle or because he wanted to look out for Sebastian didn’t matter.
The image of smol tiger Jim getting scruffed and shaken was alarming, but also a touch hilarious, and Sebastian tried to unsee it. “We could divide the house between us. I’ll be on the ground floor, because of…, you know, guarding you,” and the kitchen being there too, “you could rule the upstairs.” No question about whose fur it was ruining the expensive wardrobe then.
But Jim was right, the matter was too serious for jokes, and Sebastian deflated a bit. But the matter was also highly hypothetical so far, so it was futile to worry about it just now.
“Input finished,” he concluded a bit hastily, heeding the warning note in Jim’s tone and gaze, as he pushed close again, and Sebastian down onto the insistent pressure of the plug. “Completely,” Sebastian added with a shaky breath.
~
A match made in heaven? Jim swallowed hard, because surely the torturous feelings that he kept failing to step over where Sebastian Moran was concerned could only be some cosmic sort of justice, a complicated penance thought up by something prone to Old Testament levels of cruelty. There were certainly no angels looking down on Jim - his poor mother was certainly elsewhere.
Still, there did seem something fated about Sebastian and himself. Something so much more fitting than Rod A inserts into Slot B.
“Saint or martyr?” Jim asked Seb archly, rocking against him so that the man had the pleasure of a little more suffering.
Jim rolled his eyes when Sebastian pointed out Wales, although his internal emotions were anything but casual. That was entirely different.
“I already question my faculties over putting up with you. It’s one thing facing danger with my wits about me, it’s quite another to be reduced to a beast, or was there no real drop in intellect for you?” Jim grumbled.
He looked away. “It would probably do us some good, regular separation. I’ve gotten disgustingly used to having you around as my shadow of late and it’s going to be odd, having you out of the house again when you take on your other duties.”
Quite how Sebastian had managed to so thoroughly work himself into Jim’s affections to the point where Jim now preferred to be with another’s company than alone was an infuriating mystery to Jim. Jim finding comfort in the prolonged presence of anyone made even less sense than Sebastian managing to turn into a tiger.
Jim nipped Seb’s shoulder. “Besides, I flip my lid over all kind of things. You wouldn’t want an easy life, would you?”
Jim shrugged as Sebastian suggested a division of territory. Jim found he wanted to think about what awaited him even less than the ridiculous emotions that had tormented him of late. Sebastian seemed to sense his agitation too, and tied up the conversation.
The way Seb’s breathing hitched, and the way the man looked at Jim, returned a warmth to Jim’s insides despite their worries.
Jim kissed Sebastian and grinned crookedly. “Last chance to back out, sweetpea.”
Sebastian stared back at him with a hint of proud challenge, although his expression wasn’t entirely free from nerves. But of course he wouldn’t back out. They both wanted what Jim offered.
“Good boy,” Jim said, because Seb was. More libido than sense, but that was charming on him. Jim ground into Sebastian a tad more then stood, offering Seb a hand. “Get on the bed. All fours, sweetheart.”
Sebastian eyed Jim’s torn fingers dubiously, and took Jim’s wrist instead. The wince that escaped his mouth as the plug shifted inside him upon standing revealed Jim’s help to be a rare kindness.
Jim’s possessive slap to Seb’s arse moments later was not kind, but for all Jim’s carefulness in trying not to break his favourite toy - his favourite person - Jim was not by nature anything even approaching kind.
“Hands,” Jim commanded, and bound Seb’s wrists behind the man’s broad back.
“Good boy,” Jim murmured automatically. He reached for the spreader bar and firmly adjusted Sebastian’s thighs. The jewelled plug glinted merrily at him all the while. Between the plug and the manhandling Seb couldn’t quite be considered merry but there was already a glisten of precome attaching him to the bedding so he wasn’t suffering too terribly yet.
Jim nipped a delectable buttock with his teeth then pressed close. He wound restraints from the bar up the front of Seb’s body and curled them in over Seb’s hips to attach to the wrist cuffs, binding Seb tighter whilst giving Jim unrestricted access to Seb’s lovely rear, small pink bite mark and all.
Jim grabbed Seb’s restraints and used them to drag Sebastian closer to the edge of the bed. Seb released an adorable noise, not used to being manipulated thus. Still deep and masculine, coming from his chest, but the surprised tone was delightful.
Jim ran a soothing hand over Sebastian and reached for the cane, making a point of audibly dropping it closer. It didn’t make much noise, but Jim could tell from the tightness in Seb’s back that the man’s sensitive hearing picked it up very well.
“Before we start, I want to make this clear: when I hit you, Sebastian, it is not a punishment. Naughty though you always are, I am not hurting you because you are a bad boy in need of beating, or even because I am a bad man with a short temper. I am going to hurt you, because I enjoy it. And because you are mine, so you will let me, and because you enjoy belonging to someone so completely that you’d let me do this to you.” Jim pinched Seb’s bottom. “And if you like me hurting you, well, that’s our little secret.”
Jim hooked the gag with a crooked finger then snatched Sebastian up by his hair with his other hand. Seb cried out, an inflection of indignation at the end. Jim’s grip was uncommonly rough, but the hastily swallowed protest had much more to do with the sudden shift of the plug within poor Sebastian.
“One last chance to kiss back before your mouth is as much at my mercy as the rest of you,” Jim explained. He twisted Seb a little closer and took Seb’s mouth possessively.
~
Saint or martyr?
“Both, naturally,” Sebastian had said, canting his hips and drawing a ragged breath, when Jim’s deliberate movement already held the answer - testing his saintly patience and providing sweet torture. And some not so sweet still to come. Sebastian had to keep his eyes from straying towards the fucking cane.
Very much used to Jim’s sometimes playful, sometimes unkind little jibes at his intelligence he didn’t rise to the baiting question whether he’d noticed a difference while in his beastly incarnation. Sebastian was still quite caught up in wrapping his head around that whole thing, but despite any lingering worries and confusion, one thing he already liked about it: suddenly being a creature that managed something unheard of: putting even Jim Moriarty on his toes because he was unable to entirely predict and anticipate him (at least for part of the month!) Honestly, that was almost worth a little cyclic drop in intelligence, and the agonising, bone-wrenching shift.
So Sebastian just bared his teeth a bit. Jim nipped his shoulder in return, and Sebastian at least momentarily had enough judgement to not reciprocate. The cane was awfully present.
But Jim’s question whether he wanted out was rather rhetorical. For both of them.
However, even the first and very simple order was enough to raise his – momentarily only proverbial – hackles already. All fours, like a bloody beast indeed. But this was only just the beginning, and he’d be in for much more hardship than joy if he didn’t manage to just run with it. Mentally. The plug sort of ‘helped’, knocking his mind down a peg. Catching his breath his eyes met Jim’s as he helped him up. Smug little bastard. But at the same time Sebastian felt embarrassingly grateful.
‘All fours’ turned out to be no more than a little mindfuck, because with Jim many things were, and before long he proceeded to thoroughly fix Sebastian in the position he really wanted him in: on his knees and knees apart, and preferably forever. At least that’s what the careful fastening of the rigorous restraints suggested.
Although Sebastian’s breaths had become quicker and more shallow, his mind in turn seemed to slow, physical sensation taking over. Every touch, skilful and light, or just as skilful but much firmer… He could smell Jim’s arousal, and his own. There was no hurry but no hesitation either as Jim worked. It felt like a ritual. Everything Jim did, every buckle he tightened, every knot and rope he tied left Sebastian more at his mercy. Binding him was the first step of Jim… taking possession. And Sebastian let him. Until they had reached the point where Sebastian granting or allowing anything or consenting or objecting had become irrelevant.
This was where it entirely ceased to matter what he wanted, or what he liked. Jim might honour it, or he might not. It was as much under Sebastian’s influence as whether it would rain or not.
And that’s exactly what Jim had told him. He had. Repeatedly.
There will be no safe words… , you will be unable to freely speak, ...no failsafes, no stopping or adjusting once I have begun…, no promise to take any of your feedback into account.
And hearing it once had been enough to etch it into Sebastian’s memory.
Well, now they had begun. Sebastian’s stomach was hot and tight with nerves and anticipation and arousal. But there were no choices to make nor anything he could do, and that too… strangely settled his nerv-
With a startled, indignant grunt he reflexively tried to resist, all illusions of settling into anything disintegrating when Jim grabbed his tied wrists and the bar and hauled him backwards, like a piece of heavy game, shot and tied to a stake for better handling.
He heard Jim chuckle, but the brief touch of his hand felt like genuinely meant reassurance. Very casual too and not completely distracting Sebastian from the sound of the cane being dropped onto the bed, quite close to him.
He steadied his balance a bit more successfully than his breathing. To see Jim, it would have needed a full body twist which he didn’t attempt, so Sebastian settled for dipping his head with a slight tilt while listening. The cane, for once in his life, was not to be a punishment, but an instrument of pleasure. Well, not for him but for Jim, but still… quite a novelty in this regard. It would hurt, but it would please Jim, which in turn did things to Sebastian’s insides, and to his cock, and to his brain… Just like the fascinatingly unpleasant gag Jim was now dangling from his fingers.
“Do I get ‘any last words’?”
Fuck! Sebastian cried out when Jim gripped his hair and wrenched his head back. No, no last words, snarky or otherwise, he’d take the kiss instead. Jim’s lips curved into an affectionate smile, with a hint of cruelty.
The kiss was long and hard - Sebastian gave as good as he got - and it was Jim who finally ended it. Like, with all things tonight, it would be him who started and ended them. Sebastian was breathing heavily looking up at him. Jim studied his face for a moment longer and with an expression that was impossible to read, he finally let go of Sebastian’s hair and drew back, picking up the cane.
~
Any last words indeed. Jim was, by his standards of self-serving brutality, behaving with all the gentlemanly chivalry of someone far more tenderhearted than Jim could ever be.
Even when they kissed, Jim refrained from thoroughly bursting Seb’s lip between his teeth. The man would need to be able to speak when he picked up his other duties.
Not that Jim intended Sebastian to be in any fit state after this to walk or work immediately.
Jim drew the rattan cane capriciously along Sebastian’s torso. “Want to bet whether you’ll have more stripes than your furry counterpart when I’m done with you?” Jim asked. He smiled widely as Seb eyed the cane and considered whether a cheeky witticism was worth a blow. Sebastian opened his mouth and Jim flicked his wrist, leaving a small but stinging imprint of pink on the meat of Seb’s pec.
“Don’t get yourself into trouble when we’re only beginning,” Jim warned warmly, and whipped a little more harshly across the other side of Seb’s chest, thoroughly enjoying both the noise Sebastian made when his nipple was caught in a line of pain, and the filthy glare given afterwards.
Jim grinned and shook his head warningly. “Be good, no bad words from you; you don’t want Daddy to soap your mouth too, do you?”
Sebastian responded with a comment that involved no swear words but was very naughty indeed.
Jim’s gaze sparkled. “You really want this gag, don’t you?”
Sebastian raised his chin defiantly.
Jim set the cane before Seb where the blond could see it and moved closer. “We’ll see how tough you are in a moment, shall we?” Jim asked cheerfully. He snatched Seb by the scalp before fitting the gag. Sebastian grunted, the contraption unfamiliar. Jim adjusted it carefully, ensuring the metal in Seb’s mouth was as comfortable as it could be.
“Good boy,” Jim murmured. He swiped his tongue over Seb’s and forced an awkward kiss around the gag, licking away the drool gathering at the sides of Seb’s restricted mouth afterwards. Sebastian’s cheeks felt warm against Jim’s face as he did so.
Jim finally massaged Seb’s sore scalp and moved back. Jim swiped up the cane and dragged it along Sebastian’s body.
Patterns appeared then swiftly disappeared from Seb’s skin. Jim amused himself for a moment experimenting with light swats to various parts of Sebastian’s body, admiring the noises Seb made around his gag in response.
Jim settled at Sebastian’s back and tapped one of Seb’s bound wrists. Seb tilted his head attentively over his shoulder, uncertain.
Jim ran his thumb gently over the skin. “Just because you can’t talk doesn’t mean I’m going to let you pretend you’re not partially accountable for anything that happens hereafter.”
Seb’s brows lowered.
Jim peeled Seb’s partially furled fingers away from the man’s palm.
“Option one,” Jim said, straightening out a finger. He moved to the next, “Option two.” Sebastian’s third finger straightened as Jim reached for it. “Option three.”
“Clever boy,” Jim murmured, and pushed Seb’s fingers back into a loose fist.
With one hand he tapped Seb’s wrist again, and with the other he pointedly let Sebastian feel the tip of the cane press into his skin.
“Option one: your arm,” Jim said, tapping Seb’s muscle lightly with the cane. “Option two: your back.” Jim indicated a section that could take a bit of a hit easily enough. “Option three,” there was a smile in Jim’s voice and he moved the cane much lower. “The sole of your foot.”
Sebastian gave him a look over his shoulder. He held out two fingers.
“Good boy,” Jim said firmly. He let the cane kiss Seb’s back and Sebastian hissed through the gag.
Jim closed Seb’s hand, then touched the fingers in turn with each option. “One more, three more, or five more?”
Sebastian hesitated, then held out two fingers again. Jim closed the fist with a murmured praise and landed three blows on top of each other across Seb’s back. Sebastian winced a little.
Jim tapped Seb’s wrist. “Your arse, your thigh, or your shoulder?”
Sebastian considered, then held out his fingers.
He cried out, startled, as a blow landed elsewhere, but quickly cut himself off. He flashed a glare over his shoulder.
Jim grinned. “I warned you I wouldn’t always take your suggestions.”
Seb grunted, but gave a barely perceptible nod.
Jim touched Seb’s wrist. “Light, moderate, or hard?”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes in mistrust as he held out a response. Jim complied, then kissed the crook of Seb’s neck.
Jim repeated the game, setting an easily understood pattern: two of Sebastian’s choice, then one ignored. Allowing some exciting unpredictability for Seb whilst ensuring the blond still felt reassured by the semblance of control, for now.
It wasn’t like Jim to be so considerate.
Jim began to vary the third turns further, striking Sebastian in places, amounts or strengths not offered. Sebastian began to quiver in response to those turns, but did not seem uncomfortably anxious.
Jim hit the plug with the cane and Sebastian yelped.
“Don’t want you getting too comfortable,” Jim teased.
He touched Seb’s wrist. “There again, twice, or your bollocks once, or six across your arse?”
Jim eyed Sebastian’s fingers then dipped to kiss Seb’s back before complying.
Jim touched Seb’s wrist. “Thumbs up if you’re ready for more.” Jim tapped the plug pointedly.
“Whole hand flat out if you need a breather.” Jim kissed one of the sorer parts of Seb’s body, then laved it with the flat of his tongue.
~
Sebastian huffed because it was a slight exaggeration to say he wanted that monstrosity of a gag, but it was within the frame of agreements from their little (sham) negotiations. Just like of course almost everything was, at least from Jim’s point of view.
But underneath the feeling of mortification, there was a lot more and a lot more complex and twisted ones, when Jim fitted him with the thing, just like putting a beast in restraints to keep it in hand. A beast in possession of his voice but not the ability to speak. He kept his eyes lowered as Jim adjusted leather and metal, making sure the sensitive corners of Sebastian’s mouth didn’t get pinched, then he tightened the buckle some more. His fingers were cool against Sebastian’s skin, so he surmised his face must be burning, which made him blush even more. His mouth being held open in a way that felt little shy of uncomfortable, not to mention obscene, his jaws tried to close in an involuntary reflex, of course meeting with immovable resistance. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t kiss and he could barely swallow, which left him fucking drooling - all to Jim’s very great and much apparent satisfaction. He patted Sebastian’s head, who replied with a noise somewhere between resentful, resigned and intrigued. Trying to somewhat come to terms with the contraption he also realised that the parts most firmly lodged behind and between his teeth had some sort of silicone coating to protect them - Jim being the responsible owner that he was.
Sebastian's attention snapped back to the cane, as Jim started out almost innocently by drawing lines and patterns across his skin, then administering the first flicks and swats. Nips and then bites, stinging like little electric shocks.
The swishing sound of the cane alone triggered a multitude of associations and reactions, dark and infuriating, just like that belt had the other day, threatening to rattle him to the core. But it had been decades ago that he had sworn they’d have no power over him any more. This… was different. He’d entered this voluntarily. This was Jim. This was a man whose power over him he craved to feel with every fibre of his body and every inch of his skin. Who had reminded him that this was not punishment, but something else entirely.
So, Sebastian’s resolve to stay stoically silent was short-lived, not least because the gag made it simply impossible, even the attempt was somewhat ridiculous. Every breath and every gasp was treacherously … obvious, but that was… alright. Because if anyone had the right to the pleasure to hear him like that, it was the man wielding the cane.
It still felt strange to have his feedback taken into account. But it helped him keep his bearings and his mind and his subconscious from spiralling down any unwanted rabbit holes.
The means and rules Jim gave him to communicate his input were simple enough. Just right for Sebastian’s current state of mind, as the strokes left glowing lines of pain all across his body, in different places, different intensity. Even though they stung, sometimes a little, sometimes like fucking hell, each one was a touch, a connection. A wish, asked and granted, a savage and breathtaking communication that went both ways.
And Sebastian honoured it by making brave choices, rarely taking the easy ones.
Of course, with Jim, this measure of control was a temporary gift only, and gradually taken away. Whenever the coping mechanisms of Sebastian’s body and mind reached some sort of adjustment, things became harsher, and more unpredictable.
And it wasn’t just the cane, but the restraints as well, and the position they forced on Sebastian. If not sitting down on his heels (which restricted Jim’s choice of targets and was thus very much discouraged) or ending up with his head on the bed and arse in the air like a bitch (which he was furiously intent to avoid), it only left a position that needed a lot of core strength to maintain.
By the time Jim drew a startled yelp from him by hitting the plug, Sebastian was sweating, little tremors running through his abs and thighs, as he stared at the embarrassing damp patch of drool between his knees. Christ.
He eased the somewhat cramped tension by sinking down onto his heels and folding his upper body forward, head low, taking a reprieve without opting for it. He twitched when Jim blithely tapped against the plug, but instead of a scolding Sebastian received an almost tender swipe of Jim’s tongue along one of the burning welts across his arse.
He took a few more slow, deep breaths, then unfolded his thumbs.
Much to Jim’s appreciation it seemed. Sebastian smiled. Or – tried to. Only he couldn’t even do that, for fuck’s sake!
But yes, he was a Good Boy, and so he struggled up, back into the least undignified position, briefly glancing back over his shoulder.
~
Jim nodded in approval when Seb looked back at him.
Of course Sebastian wanted to continue. Still, Jim let him have his moment of rest. Jim ran his free hand over the strained parts of Seb’s back then curled his arm over Seb’s damp belly and rubbed comforting circles into the trembling abdominal muscles until Sebastian relaxed a little against him.
“My good boy,” Jim said appreciatively. “Brave, reckless and perfect for me, aren’t you?”
Sebastian seemed pleased with that, and Jim felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with mere sex or violence.
“Let’s get you a little more comfortable before we get to the good parts, shall we?” Jim murmured. He found something to mop at Seb’s dripping wet chin with and only bared his teeth a little wickedly when Seb’s gaze grew bashful about the saliva tracking down both sides of his throat.
Jim kissed Seb thoroughly. Seb’s lips were incapable of forming a smile afterwards, but the brightness of those blue eyes was unmistakable. Even though they soon looked rueful when Jim wiped at Seb’s mouth again.
“Are you listening?” Jim asked, as if Sebastian could do anything else.
“I’m going to get rougher with you,” Jim said, and Seb stiffened, but not just with trepidation. Anticipation too. Good.
“I like hurting you,” Jim said. “I like the sound of the cane cutting through the air and the noises I wrench from you.”
Jim brought the cane to Seb’s throat so the man had no choice but to hold eye contact.
“The cane will break before you do,” Jim said firmly. “It’s only a skinny little thing; you’ve seen it and know how it cuts you. It’s bent already.”
Jim searched Sebastian’s gaze seriously for any indication that Seb didn’t trust him with that. Seb didn’t seem thrilled, but he nodded. He was hardly in a position to ask Jim to stop, after all.
The thought that Jim would stop if Seb indicated a deep desire to do so unnerved Jim more than a little. He’d considered it briefly in abstract before, analysing probabilities of different interactions, but it was entirely different to take the thought from hypothetical to certainty. There had never been another man in this room whose desires Jim might put before his own.
Rattled, Jim went through a performance of his dominance, teasing and toying with Sebastian to remind himself of more familiar things, like a strong man helpless on his bed. And the power that gave Jim.
Jim’s free hand had moved from Seb’s stomach to his hard prick. Muted or not, Seb’s intake of breath was perfectly telling. Jim manipulated Sebastian until the man was unable to make his noises sound anything but desperate, then Jim released his grip. He slid the cane from Seb’s throat and pushed, letting Seb fall forward, and painfully snatching back Seb’s hair when the man’s face almost hit the bed. It would have hurt less to fall, and the growl that came from Seb’s throat spread Jim’s lips wide.
Jim threw his weight behind a blow and a roar of pain and indignation forced its way through Seb’s gag. Vivid lines appeared in Sebastian’s skin, changing colour furiously.
Jim needed to rein back, or he’d break the flimsy stick in one or two more of those.
Jim licked the wound and Seb couldn’t move away when Jim reintroduced his teeth. Seb bucked anyway and Jim snatched up Seb’s cock, pumping it even as he unleashed a flurry of lighter blows.
“You’re mine,” Jim declared. “No matter what I do, every inch of you belongs to me. And I’ll do as I please with you.”
Jim bruised what he could reach of Seb’s inner thighs, dragging the spreader bar for better control, and teased Seb’s private parts with glancing blows. The kind that would keep the cane intact indefinitely. The swishes and impact slaps were interspersed with the shuddering noises that rattled from Sebastian.
Jim wrestled Seb back onto his stomach and swatted him hard when the man ground into the mattress. “Your pleasure comes from me, if I grant it,” Jim snarled.
He beat Sebastian carefully, choosing the exact placement of blows that would make the ordinarily composed man sing. Seb’s noises were desperate and furious and helplessly aroused.
Jim pulled back just to chuckle when Seb looked around for him, confused and still wanting.
Jim smiled at him. Smiled like he meant it, and he did.
And then he broke the cane across Seb’s arse.
Sebastian hollered, but he had no time to dwell on the burn, because Jim was dropping the pieces and dragging Seb’s hips back to the edge of the bed.
Jim snatched out the plug with calculated impatience and the noise Seb made was exquisite.
Jim forced his fingers inside, scissoring them roughly, and then he switched them out, pushing in intently.
Jim slapped the welts on Seb’s arse.
“Honey, I’m home,” Jim said sardonically.
~
Sebastian’s associations with a cane had never been anything other than fury, humiliation, and being forced into a position of weakness. Never before had he been told how fucking brave he was. And strong, and perfect. And even more elating: Perfect for Jim.
’The cane will break before you do.’
There was something in that steely velvet voice, something so pleased, and of such an unshakable confidence in him it almost unravelled Sebastian. With a deep exhalation he relaxed into Jim’s arm around his middle. It felt like finally someone was seeing him, knew him, down to his innermost core, and it wasn’t just anyone, but the only man in the world who mattered. Who acknowledged and praised his strength, because it made him worthy of his attention and affection, because it made him capable of providing Jim with what he wanted… And not just enduring it in some fashion, but wanting it just as much.
Sebastian answered with a low, equally confident sound when being told that so far this had just been the warm-up.
To be deprived of any human articulation, his input and feedback reduced a basic animalistic level, Jim plundering his mouth without having the chance to properly kiss back… all those things gradually ceased to feel as degrading as they should. As though they were simply taking away any last need to fret and to examine or make excuses as to why they turned him on. His brain let itself happily be relegated to a back seat. And his his pride with it, for the time being, yet unbroken, and intact to fight another day, and that too would give pleasure to him and Jim both.
Besides, all things were relative too. Your entire body burning with welts and marks and bruises from the bite of the cane made the humiliating sting of being cleaned and wiped down like a mindlessly drooling beast dwindle into insignificance.
Groaning, Sebastian rutted into Jim’s hand as it stoked his arousal until it bordered on desperation. Suddenly he was pushed forward, with no amount of balance saving him - Jim’s grip on his hair did, and it felt as though he was about to lose part of his scalp. Sebastian’s furious growl turned onto a roar, as this sensation was eclipsed by an explosion of pain across his arse.
And then Jim set about to illustrate what it meant that every inch of Sebastian’s body was his.
And because everything Jim said came with a twist, Sebastian had to realise that the most excruciating blows were not the must brutal ones, that would inevitably destroy the cane, but the most particularly aimed, that would keep it intact indefinitely.
Some had him shouting, some had him thrashing within the very limiting confines of his bonds, some had him curling up on himself.
No words didn’t mean he wasn’t vocal, and he didn’t hold back. Apart from not having enough wits left available to even try, it wasn’t what Jim wanted either. And whenever he caught a blurry glimpse of that smile, his flushed face and obvious arousal, caught the sound of his breathing or murmurs of approval, the heat inside Sebastian matched the one blistering his skin. And Jim himself made sure of that as well…
And when Sebastian had finally given up to the fight, even the subconscious attempts to shield himself and the last desperate try to rut against the bed, Jim broke the cane in a last vicious blow and dropped the fragments.
Being pulled back to the side of the bed, Sebastian panted hoarsely, doubling over, covered in welts and cuts and stinging sweat. He felt being forced open when Jim wrenched out the plug, and more open by a rough and deliberately brief preparation, and then… The moan from Sebastian sounded as ragged and parched as his throat felt.
Honey, I’m home.
And that he was. Jim bottomed out, his jagged hips grinding against striped and burning skin, and Sebastian twitched in an evasive movement, aborted and halted by Jim pressing one of his knees down onto the spreader bar.
Sebastian answered with a barely human sound from deep below his diaphragm - tortured and at the same time… content.
He was home too.
~
For all Jim was enjoying being somewhat cruel, his smile was widened not only by the strained sound Seb made upon being entered, but the gratifying undercurrents of satisfaction there too. Sebastian Moran did not let many people mistreat him, but here Seb was, striped and about to be fucked ferociously, and he sounded like he was as pleased about it all as Jim was.
Perfect creature.
Jim pulled out most of the way and slammed back in. Sebastian could not help but vocalise in response, and Jim angled every thrust thereafter to keep Seb loud. And thoroughly frustrated, each one of Jim’s harsh thrusts hitting just shy of the angle Sebby liked best. Because it was far too soon to reward his tiger.
Jim plastered himself against Seb and brutalised the man’s vulnerable hole. When Seb roared and tried in vain to change the angle, Jim bit hard into the corner of Seb’s shining neck, correcting and claiming the man in a single gesture.
Jim bit and sucked and kissed all he could reach of that one shoulder and the adjoining part of Seb’s neck. Sweat and blood mixed on Jim’s tongue and he crushed the bigger man close underneath him. And all the time he thoroughly fucked Seb.
“This is what you’re for,” Jim declared, thrusting so fiercely between comments that Sebastian’s noises grew breathy. “You’re tough and proud and addicted to danger, and you are exactly who you are supposed to be. No one else can handle me, no one else survives me, and look at you, precious. You love this, don’t you? You’re not just surviving, you’re thriving. You’re mine.”
Jim was fucking Seb so deeply the blond could hardly concentrate on the words, but he made some sort of agreeing noise as though he could at least focus on the tone of Jim’s praise.
There was distress in the noise too, and not just frustration at Jim teasing the edges of his prostate. Sebastian was getting sore.
Jim pulled out carefully.
Sebastian seemed to expect Jim to smash back in again. He belatedly looked around, face flushed and gaze foggy.
Jim grinned crookedly and lightly slapped a moderately sore part of Seb’s rear. Sebastian flinched, huffing softly, but seemed too sex-addled to manage a glare.
“Don’t worry, treasure, Daddy’s right here,” Jim said. Sebastian didn’t even have the energy left to roll his eyes.
Jim retrieved the lubricant and slicked himself liberally. He was a little tender himself, all that vicious thrusting in Seb’s underprepared channel running a real risk of chafing.
Sebastian made an impatient noise through the gag and Jim chuckled. “Sorry darling, are you feeling neglected?”
Jim took out some more slick and pushed his fingers into Seb’s opening. He really oughtn’t, but it was always difficult to be sensible where Sebastian was concerned. Jim finally pressed teasingly into Seb’s prostate and the needy, approving noise from the big blond made Jim grin and press a kiss into Seb’s sore cheek. Then of course Jim continued to tease some more.
“Ready for me to continue, darling?” Jim purred. “Going to make you come on my dick, I promise you.”
He slipped his fingers out and petted Seb soothingly. Then he pressed close and proceeded to do his very best to fuck Seb into the mattress.
~
The impact of Jim’s ferocious thrusts, and his own brain-melting need, had Sebastian breathing through his ignominious gag in ragged bursts. Physical exertion had a part in it too, but attempting to stay upright had long since turned from a matter of preserving his dignity into quite the opposite – vying for a better angle than the one Jim granted him. Which was of course a fight Sebastian lost, buckling under Jim’s weight that forced him down again, and the harsh bite into the crook of his neck that kept him there. His mind had turned so foggy he only grasped fragments of what Jim panted into his ear, between smaller bites and licks and kisses, but they almost made him come there and now, right angle or not.
But of course it didn’t happen either. Even caught up in the lust of a ferocious fuck, and dripping sweat onto Sebastian’s skin, Jim played him like an instrument. Twisting so that one shoulder took more of his weight, Sebastian could at least see him out of the corner of his eye. In his nostrils the smell of the damp, rumpled sheets mixed with the heated heavy scent of their bodies and a whiff of blood. Jim, true to his promise, fucked him ruthlessly, leaving Sebastian gasping and trembling and desperate, on the edge between arousal and frustration, drowning in both pleasure and pain, until the scales threatened to tip into sheer discomfort.
Which by rights was something Jim was entitled to do, just as much as anything else that pleased him, but nonetheless Sebastian heaved a grateful sigh when he didn’t, and another, more quiet one when he heard the click of the lube bottle. There hadn’t been that much of it on the plug after all, and even Jim was probably starting to feel it. Probably for the first time ever, Sebastian was too out of it to show any visible reaction the daddy crap, but only a low and filthy groan as Jim’s fingers pushed back in, slick and skilful and finally… not deliberately missing the point. They sent a shiver through Sebastian’s body and hard twitch to his cock. And when Jim, with a pleased and eager hum, pushed in again, Sebastian’s grunt sounded distinctly affirmative.
Whether the teasing was over or not he did not know, nor had he any influence on it. But for the moment the way Jim moved, the way he dug his fingers into Sebastian’s striped and burning flesh was utter perfection. Flattened underneath him, Sebastian’s moan was muffled by the sheets. He bucked, and his eyes were literally rolling back in his head when Jim used not only his full weight but the spreader bar again for better leverage.
~
Jim did his best to counterbalance his harshness with praise, but the more energetic his brutal thrusts became the harder it became to talk. Jim slapped Seb hard across the arse and slammed in, torn fingers biting into Seb’s hips and forcing animalistic noises from so deep inside the blond the head of Jim’s dick may as well have been bruising Seb’s diaphragm. Even if Jim reached up and unfastened the gag now, Sebby was well beyond coherent speech, much less the sort of quipping that could get him into trouble.
“I shouldn’t let you come at all,” Jim panted, and Sebastian didn’t even lift his head, much less shoot Jim a look that protested you promised.
Jim bit Seb’s ear; the man’s neck was sore enough by now.
“A whole month of you being unruly… insubordinate…” Jim complained. “I should… fuck you into this mattress… until you can’t take any more… then leave you… desperate… sorry… ready to beg…”
Sebastian was ignoring him even more than usual, unable to react to anything other than Jim rhythmically stabbing his prostate with unrelenting force, crushing him into the bed so fully their height difference became irrelevant. The deafness also seemed entirely unconscious for once.
Jim kissed Sebastian’s ear softly. “I should… but I spoil you… don’t I?”
Jim pulled out and threw his entire weight into returning. Sebastian bellowed distractedly, unable to move or speak or do very much of anything at all without Jim’s approval right now. Poor man couldn’t even think.
He certainly couldn’t listen.
“Got me wrapped around your little finger… haven’t you… you fucking bastard…” Jim panted against Seb’s neck. The violent motion of his hips was at odds with the dry fondness of his voice.
“And I did promise you,” Jim said gently. He paid precise attention to Sebastian’s involuntary noises and movements, timing and enacting his thrusts in perfect alignment.
“You’re going to come for me, baby,” Jim said firmly. “Because you are mine, because I want you to, because you are so fucking precious when you’re spent and happy.”
Jim reached for Seb’s wrist. “Listen to Daddy, pet… You’ve been such a good boy… Taken me so well… Time for you to come for me, tiger…”
Sebastian had no choice but to obey.
Jim had thought he had himself under control. He’d been so focused on his actions and on Seb’s needs. Jim still had control over his accent for fuck’s sake.
But then Sebastian came, his internal walls spasming and making a noise that other were tiger could probably hear in India, and then Jim was gone. He was trembling and scrabbling at Seb’s sides and yelling out in surprise as much as pleasure.
And then Jim’s knees were insubstantial and it was only Seb’s body beneath him keeping him grounded as his vision threatened to black out completely.
Jim breathed through it, and when he thought he might have control of his hands, he unfastened Sebastian’s legs so the man could flop more comfortably.
Jim reached for Seb’s wrists next, pushing up for just a moment, emphasising who Seb belonged to, then releasing them. He tossed the restraints aside and massaged Seb’s wrists and shoulders a little.
At last Jim moved to pull out, his legs something less akin to jelly now. Sebastian made an odd noise of displeasure and Jim laughed brightly, folding forward to kiss what he could reach of Seb’s cheek. Seb turned his face to meet him, blinking like he wasn’t quite here enough to decide if Jim’s fond laughter was as unguarded and guileless as it sounded.
“I can’t stay inside you forever, as pleasant as that might be,” Jim said. He needed a fucking nap, and fed, and a shower, and to get some fucking work done, and find a cure.
It was only the last one that made Jim sigh and stretch forward to unbuckle Seb’s gag. Seb tried to spit it out awkwardly. Jim pressed his hips closer still to be able to help and then massage the sides of Seb’s mouth and jaw carefully. Sebastian made an endearing noise as Jim shifted inside of him, but moved gratefully into the touch regardless. He’d been bound for some time.
Jim pulled back a little and ran a hand over Seb’s damp scalp, soothing where he had pulled so hard earlier.
He glanced at the discarded plug.
Rocking his hips again, Jim commanded Seb’s attention. “Do you want to retain my warm esteem for a little longer, or are you ready to give my precious hole a rest?”
Having spent himself already, Seb had plenty of blood ready to heat his neck and cheeks. Jim chuckled unkindly and licked a broad swipe of sweat from Seb’s back. Then lost his smile as it occurred to him that in a month’s time it could be Seb licking his stripes.
~
Like being out at sea in a storm, when the thundering roar filled your head and erased any other sound, Sebastian was at the mercy of an all-encompassing raw power consuming him. This force of nature being Jim, and all Sebastian could do was akin to clinging onto a piece of driftwood in a hurricane. Well, not even that, helpless as he was. Of all the things Jim was saying, purring, panting into his ears, only tatters got as far as the region of the brain still processing words. Promises and threats, praise and indignation… Also, gag aside, Sebastian had simply lost the mental capacities to communicate beyond primitive, carnal reactions and animal noises … Jim wrenched sounds from him he would have been ashamed of, but that decisively human emotion had been wiped out too. Only occasionally there was an indication that Sebastian somehow grasped at least fractions of Jim’s words. Simultaneously he lost the ability to differentiate between sensations - pleasure, pain, violent, exquisite, agonising - everything blurred, indistinguishable …, cumulating in such a brain-melting intensity, that is was entirely too much, too much, too much, and yet not enough… Because somewhere in all this there was still a flicker of understanding that he would not…, could not… let go unless he was allowed to.
He was a damp, twitching mess of nerves, straining arousal and trembling muscles, so much on the brink that any moment any little thing might sent him crashing over it… another thrust, a slap, one light, purposeful touch, a word... Or as it was, simply Jim’s voice, his breath against his neck… , both permission and… an order.
Sebastian came with a roar as his whole body seized up helplessly, the unbearable tension peaking and breaking into release. The fringes of his consciousness frizzling out into oblivion. But still somehow he was dimly aware that he’d taken Jim with him…
The sound Jim made still echoed in his head when the fog started to lift and it added another, deeply gratifying layer of satisfaction to his own, as did Jim’s weight on his back, limp and dazed. Well, not … entirely limp. The subsiding aftershocks trembling through Sebastian were interspersed with more pronounced tense shivers, as Jim moved to undo his restraints one by one while staying inside of him. Like pointing out his unconditional claim, and reasserting the control that had so… gloriously slipped, if even for a few seconds. Regrettably Sebastian was in no shape to look or even feel smug. His joints, hips, wrists, jaw … seemed to have lost all memory of being joints, as if frozen in the position they’d been bound and locked in for what felt like hours.
His muscles were equally useless, even his tongue wasn’t able to push the gag out of his mouth without Jim’s help. In all fairness, even without that thing, for another while the sounds from Sebastian’s throat were no more articulate than before – grateful for the relief; low and deep when Jim still rocked into him occasionally; and a bit conflicted when pressed to answer a question...?
Did he want… ?
Still dazed, Sebastian stared past Jim’s knee to the innocent blue twinkle of the plug in the sheets, while Jim’s fingers gently massaged the angle of his jaw until it remembered its function. It was a bit freaky because it almost felt as though it had to pop back into its hinge. Recovering with it was the specifically human ability of feeling embarrassed, partially at least.
“Rest”, Sebastian croaked, finally, clumsily easing his arms and legs into a more comfortable position, probably a bit like Frankenstein’s creation just newly learning to the power of speech and operating his limbs. While running his tongue over the chafed parts of his gums, Sebastian’s eyes drifted shut, but then snapped open again, fixed on the gag that had been dropped in his line of sight, near the plug. His brain, still not fully back online, struggled with the image: the contraption did not quite have the shape he remembered.
Jim, licking a burning stripe along an equally burning welt on his back, had gone still as well. Was he seeing it too?
~
Jim luxuriated inside Sebastian a little longer. Seb wanted to rest and Jim did too, but he so enjoyed being joined with his perfect creature in this way.
Jim lingered, assessing Sebastian’s sore skin and dipping to soothe an angry section with his mouth. Seb hissed and shifted his back a little, but his attention was stolen mid-lick.
Unusually confused and mildly put out, Jim wriggled up and followed Seb’s eyeline. The gag. Jim had given it barely a glance, focusing on Sebastian’s mouth once he’d established a lack of blood on the thing.
Jim looked at it now. The steel wire bit was bent.
He stared. At the toy then at Sebastian. “That’s new,” Jim said quietly. Jim rested his chin on Seb’s less bitten shoulder and nuzzled the man’s ear until Sebastian finally turned away from the bent gag to look at Jim.
“Not sure I want any more blowjobs from the jaws of death, tiger boy,” Jim teased. As if Seb would hurt him.
Jim stroked a finger down the bridge of Seb’s nose. “You were already interesting before, and now what, you get supernatural strength to go with your new stripes?”
Sebastian considered that, but his gaze suggested it wasn’t just the ability to bend steel with his mouth that had his attention.
Jim abruptly dropped back onto his knees between Seb’s legs, his grip returning to Sebastian’s hips. Sebastian made a noise in his throat, instantly distracted by Jim moving inside of him.
Jim gave the blond a tight but affectionate squeeze then withdrew at last. He rolled over onto his back beside Seb.
Jim hadn’t said anything new, Sebastian knew Jim found him interesting, but the moment had been softer than Jim intended. Unrehearsed. Genuine. He was uncertain how to feel about that.
Jim lay there and sorted through his thoughts. He was bone tired, and although sated, there was a niggle at the back of his head insisting that he didn’t feel so good physically. But then Seb hadn’t felt so good last month either had he? And that would explain why he was starving again.
Jim glowered at the ceiling then threw an arm over his eyes. He focused on his breathing for a moment. Then considered Sebastian at his side. Sebastian, who had been so good and been through so much recently. And was still here.
Jim sighed. “Moran?”
He felt Seb shift at his side. The conversation hanging heavily on his tongue was one Jim had considered more than once, but he still didn’t know quite what words to use for it.
Jim slapped his arm down on the other side of the bed and told the ceiling, “A bit of first aid if I’m inclined is the closest I bother with aftercare. I’m not… I’m not built that way and I don’t usually have the same person around long enough for their wellbeing to be of much interest to me.”
Jim sighed again. “But if any of this is to be a regular thing, I… I am aware that… Well, there’s a difference between the fast fashion that you wear once or twice, then throw away, not caring of its condition, and… something finer, more to your true taste, that you maintain so it lasts. Even you understand that, right?”
Jim didn’t quite meet Seb’s gaze then, but he did roll onto his side towards him. Quietly Jim muttered, “So I know I was careful with my handling of you. And you didn’t seem too traumatised by the cane or anything else to me. But if you need something specific, to… to make being used like this easier, I…” Jim looked away, frowning uncomfortably and not even hiding it, then finally met Sebastian’s gaze. “I’ll try to accommodate you. Within reason,” Jim said heavily.
He rubbed his face tiredly. “I know I’m a lot, and you take a lot. I’m not ever going to be nice. But what we just did, I enjoyed it-” even though Jim had held back more than usual “-and I want to make sure you have what you need to be good with what we do too.”
Not that Sebastian had seemed unhappy with what they’d done. But even masochists had less palatable needs, right? Jim’s stomach roiled. He was certain he had no taste for anything even adjacent to caretaking. But he’d managed with Seb’s other problems recently, and a few small indignities had to be worth keeping Moran in good working order.
Jim wished he could pull all of the words back into his mouth. But there was also a tiny part of himself glad that he’d finally spat them out.
~
Sebastian breathed out with a soft grunt, half pained, half bereft when after a light kiss on his shoulder that lingered for a moment, at last Jim eased himself out. Coming down from the high of almost unbearable sensory overload - or back up from blissful oblivion, it was impossible to tell which - still the occasional faint shiver travelled through Sebastian. He’d never experienced anything remotely like this, ever - how you could feel like having been run over by a truck, raw inside and out, utterly exhausted and yet satisfied to your very core?
Inside him something stirred, strangely fretful and apprehensive that now Jim would just up and leave, but then he heard Jim hit the bed beside him. In a strenuous effort Sebastian turned his head just enough to keep some sort of connection, even if it was just with one ear and half an eye, and an overall sense of Jim’s lingering presence.
Then his brow creased slightly.
’Moran‘ meant they were back to… back to… something … casual.
Sebastian’s mind clicked empty, having lost all reference to …before. As if there’d been a shift, almost as fundamental as last night’s, and one Jim most likely would not appreciate. Like you wouldn't appreciate a stray dog whom you’d casually thrown a scrap getting the notion it was meant to attach himself to you and follow you home.
“Hm?” Sebastian’s brain was still beyond fully formed words, as were the jaws of death, currently possessing the strength of a gutted fish. But the inflection of the sound conveyed he was paying attention, and also a note of dismay.
Had Jim, hormonal urges dealt with, changed his opinion again, on things like the Welsh exile and an intermittently unpredictable and fur-shedding pet scouring his home? But no, more than ominous his tone was unusually ... awkward?
Sebastian moved into a slightly better position to look at him, and it took him a moment to sluggishly catch on to what Jim was saying. Well, telling to the ceiling more like.
The rare occasions when Jim went as far as to explain himself to him always left Sebastian stunned, but this… was the most awkward (and sweetest) he'd ever seen him. As natural as it would have been, coming from any other person on the planet, it was … almost surreal, that Jim Moriarty would address the matter of… aftercare. Sebastian blinked and swallowed, his throat suddenly tight with what might have been a giggle, or shock, or something else entirely.
‘...if any of this is to be a regular thing…’
Sebastian breathed out deeply, shuddering with relief and thrill…
God, yes, please.
To find himself metaphorically likened to a piece of wardrobe should have resulted in righteous indignation, but in Sebastian’s chest it ignited a warm tingle. Not primarily because he wasn’t a normal person (which he was not), but because Jim wasn’t. Jim was so far apart from anyone else, intellectually, mentally, emotionally, that normal standards didn’t apply at all.
So, yes, Sebastian did understand the analogy as one of appreciation - he was the one with the well-loved old T-Shirts, wasn’t he? Although rather than one of those or even one of Jim’s gorgeous suits (that went out of fashion way before they were worn out) he liked to think of himself as a hard-wearing, timelessly handsome leather jacket you only grew ever more attached to over time.
Weird analogy or not- this was Jim attributing a worth to him that had him making concessions he normally wouldn't think of, let alone make. And which disgusted him, judging from his scrunched up face while he awkwardly threaded his way through such horrifying a topic…
The warmth inside Sebastian grew to a glow, because while Jim clung to the necessary maintenance concept (which probably was what made this just about bearable for him), Sebastian chose to think that wasn’t entirely true. After all, he'd been soaking them up, tucking them away like little treasures: the brush of a finger down his nose, the odd light kiss to his abused hide or a soft praise, often at times when he was so out of it he might as well not notice … If Jim wanted to keep telling himself nothing of that went beyond plain maintenance, well … he could do so, and Sebastian would never as much as breathe a challenge to the opposite, because he wanted to live. And he wanted to stay. That meant not to challenge the wrath of Jim for poking around his formidable defences…
He’d simply bask in being cared for to the extent that Jim genuinely asked him what he needed, and wanted, even though he looked almost nauseous while doing so. What did he dread Sebastian would want? After looking up at the ceiling, then past Sebastian’s shoulder at some riveting piece of furniture, Jim’s eyes finally met his again, and they looked almost… frightened of what atrocities might be expected of him.
“First aid is good,” Sebastian murmured. It was, right? Maintenance was important when sharing a bed with Jim Moriarty and giving him free rein entirely.
And yes, he understood Jim had held back. With a tingly tremor down his spine Sebastian wondered what it would feel like if he didn’t.
He had to steady his breathing before continuing. “I like… It’s nice when you stay for a bit.” He cleared his throat. He knew it was some biochemical fuckery that made him feel not only sated, but also disconcertingly … clingy. “Afterwards I mean.” Nothing as insane as … cuddling or snuggling! (Which, coming from Jim, might have even creep him out.) “Just stay close for ... a bit.”
Just as long as he needed to get back his bearings and remember his own name. That he was in such a state at all didn’t mean he hadn’t enjoyed it, but quite the opposite. It was like Jim had taken him over a threshold to a place no one else could take him to. Or would be allowed to. To something no one else could ever give him, in such a raw, mind-blowing, genuine way that everything else paled in comparison.
Quite ruined, forever. Sebastian said, “I enjoyed it too.”
Jim’s gaze was unreadable, not wavering now, his pupils black and huge, just like Sebastian’s, leaving no doubt that he wanted more of this. They both … wanted more of this.
The fact that this scared Sebastian a bit was no deterrent at all, but rather an integral part of it.
“Well… maybe not break my cheekbone again when I touch you. Because… I might.” He was well underway to learn where and how, without triggering a meltdown, but … things happened? The corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitched imperceptibly. “Within reason of course.”
After a while, looking thoughtful, he added: “Then again, there’ll always be the next full moon.” When he would heal.