Collared
Jerry clearly found it odd that Jim was going anywhere without Sebastian, but was not stupid enough to mention that. He did his best to keep the question off of his face too.
Jim made the interaction easier by ignoring him for the most part. He stared out of the tinted and reinforced window and drummed his fingers on his knees in absent-minded excitement.
Jerry was clearly wondering about that too, not without some nervousness. Jim being in high spirits could turn to mania or disaster very easily.
Mike kept his mouth shut the entire journey.
Jerry did not know what to expect when he accompanied his principal into a jewellery store so exclusive it barely had anything on display. There was only a few hushed staff present, which at least made it easier to scan threats, and the most senior of the staff sidled up to Jim as soon as Jerry permitted it.
A large, flat box was presented to Jim, who shifted a little to open it and check its contents out of Jerry’s view. That was exasperating, and potentially dangerous, but Jerry valued his life more than to demand that Jim let him check the thing before permitting the man handle his purchase. It was always a thin and flexible line between keeping Jim safe and not suffering horridly oneself.
Jim silently fingered the contents of the box, unusually quiet. He then snapped the jewellery box shut with finality. One of the junior assistants flinched at the abrupt noise.
Jim gave the senior jeweller a stiff nod, and a ridiculous amount of money. His tip alone could pay the junior’s wage for a year. But discretion and good service were both qualities Jim valued.
Jim met Jerry’s gaze and pointedly jerked his head a little towards the door. Jerry escorted him back to the car, and Jim fidgeted with the box the entire way home, but did not open it again.
Jim slid out of the car as soon as Mike stopped in front of the house. He didn’t spare a word of thanks or acknowledgement for his men, simply surged inside.
Mike was quite content to be ignored. That was better than drawing Jim’s attention.
Jerry had to snap to it to follow after Jim quickly enough to open the front door. He expected Sebastian to be on the other side of it for handover, but he wasn’t present.
Jim raised a brow like this amused and annoyed him. Jerry hoped Sebastian had taken a poorly timed piss and was about to burst into the room any second.
Jim gestured at Jerry dismissively. “It’s fine. The building’s secure and I’ll hunt the Chief out in a moment.”
Jerry hesitated. Letting the boss take a box without checking it was bad enough, but just leaving him unattended was-
“Dismissed,” Jim said firmly.
Jerry lingered reluctantly, but retreated as soon as the boss’ brows started to lower.
Jim pulled out his phone and had to scroll down to reach Seb’s number. It had been a long time since they’d been apart.
Sebastian had better still understand being called to heel, or he would not be in for a treat after all.
~
Lying within reach on the worktop, Sebastian's phone rang - very much like a bloody modern day version of the servants’ bell and call box. Having a pretty good idea it was the Lord of the Manor, Sebastian gave it a cursory glance but didn't pick up while he continued to apply oil to the slide of the Glock. He ignored the second ring. Slowed down at the third. After the forth he stopped, stabbing his little finger against the display, not putting down the cloth.
"Here, in the den." When there was a stumped silence on the line he added: "Polishing the silver." And, more in the general direction of his hands than the phone, "On the off chance I ever need it
again."
~
Sebastian’s gruffness shocked and amused Jim. Most people would have the sense not to attach themselves to Jim Moriarty in the first place, but Seb seemed to actively enjoy riling him.
Without speaking, Jim ended the call and made his way to Seb’s den. Which was not easy to climb down to with a box that did not fit in a pocket.
“Good pets wait at the door for their master when he arrives,” Jim said dryly. “Was I not clear enough on the benefits of being a good boy?”
Sebastian seemed unimpressed, but he hadn’t failed to notice the box Jim was carrying.
Jim tutted at him. “I wouldn’t tolerate this sulking from a spouse or a sprog, so I suggest that you rethink whether or not you want to play nicely, Sebastian…”
~
“Well then it’s lucky I am neither,” Sebastian sniffed. Not Jim’s spouse nor sprog. But he also wasn’t vindictive by nature, and with Jim venturing down here in his prized immaculate clothes, he couldn’t help feeling appeased.
And intrigued. He eyed the box curiously, because this must be what Jim had gone out for in the first place.
“In comparison to what I originally wanted to do, I am being good - ” he made a gesture over the meticulously laid out parts of two handguns on the table, “’m working.” Then he back-paddled yet a bit further. “But I can finish this up within ten minutes,” he offered.
~
“If you were, I’d have ensured you were more obedient,” Jim said dryly. Although Seb was far more likely to have a bastard somewhere than he was, and Jim doubted either of them were the marrying type. Of course if the entire team was infected he’d have to ensure to prevent a few new litters of were tiger cubs.
For fuck’s sake.
Sebastian’s insinuation that he’d been inclined to further insubordination did not make Jim feel any better. “Did you forget?” Jim asked coolly. “What you want doesn’t matter.”
He set the box aside out of Sebastian’s reach and approached. Seb’s hands were full and whilst the man was seated, Jim curled his way around Seb’s broad shoulders.
“We agreed that you care about what I want. And I want: some quality time with you. So stop being a prick.”
Jim squeezed Seb in a hug that was just tight enough to be threatening, then gentled his grip and kissed the side of Sebastian’s head.
“You can have two minutes,” Jim said sternly. He smiled against Seb’s temple. “Can you still do that with your eyes closed?”
~
Reflexively Sebastian took a deeper breath as Jim snaked around him like a Boa constrictor. Where in that slight frame Jim found such strength was often beyond Sebastian. Apart from that, Sebastian found it very much debatable if he was the one being prick. The two minutes he was granted to wrap things up here meant reassembling the two weapons without a thorough cleaning and starting all over again later. Which of course became insignificant when Jim wanted - not just anything but - quality time.
With a hum that sounded both agreeable and intrigued he wiped down the slide of the Glock and smiled when Jim’s lips brushed his temple, uttering a little challenge. Which wasn’t really one. Probably everyone who’d ever learned to handle a weapon had taken part in all sorts of silly little competition of field-stripping and reassembling it in all manners of circumstances. “Of course I can,” he said, trying to sound more bored than he actually was, because yes, he knew it was a bit childish how much he loved showing off to Jim. “Although I don’t really much see the point, right?”
But he’d already started. Eyes closed, he picked up the barrel and slipped it into the slide. Found the recoil spring, because all parts were laid out in an order he’d know in his sleep, and compressed it into its notch. Picked up the grip, his fingertips finding the rails to align the slide and push it in, eased it over the ejector, snapped it shut. Sebastian’s hands worked swiftly and without hesitation. He checked the action by moving the slide back a few times. Pulled the trigger, then clicked the mag in.
Unhurriedly and with just a hint of smugness, he placed the weapon back down onto the table. There was a beat of silence, but he could feel Jim’s heat right by his shoulder. He turned his face towards him, eyes still closed, and smiled a little.
“As I said,” with a shrug he picked up where he’d left off about twelve seconds ago “- for some things, doing them as quickly as possible and in the dark doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Or about as much as … having sex in that manner.”
Keeping one’s eyes closed in the presence of Jim Moriarty after putting down a loaded gun within his reach took some nerve; throwing a mention of sex into the mix, even more so, because inevitably with that came the memory of … the Ruger and what Jim had done with it.
Opening his eyes again, for a moment Sebastian glanced into the mesmerised inky depth staring back at him. With slow, measured breaths, Sebastian managed to steady his heart rate and hands enough to assemble the second gun and reached for the first two parts of the Beretta still spread out on the table.
~
Jim loved how well Sebastian handled firearms, and he loved what a cocky prick Seb was too. What Jim loved more was the way Seb looked at him afterwards, when Jim’s attention had melted back that smugness into something else. Sebastian knew to be attentive to danger, and he didn’t just flirt with it; he shared a bed with danger and knew him as Jim Moriarty.
Jim gave Sebastian a slow, sharp smile in return.
“What’s sense got to do with it? I just like watching you show off,” Jim said.
He raised his hands slowly, to give Seb a moment to process that they were not to be batted away, and cupped them over Sebastian’s eyes. Warm eyelashes fluttered against his palms.
Jim kissed Seb’s head and then moved his lips to Sebastian’s ear. “I think you’ll find, darling, that I could make you enjoy having sex without being able to see a thing.” He breathed gently on Seb’s ear, then took the earlobe in his mouth, sucking tenderly for a moment before tugging with his teeth. “The rest of your senses get so attentive to compensate, and you are so wonderfully sensitive already.”
Jim gave the shell of Seb’s ear a little nip with his teeth.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he murmured, and moved one hand away to slither down Seb’s body. Jim moved his other hand to cover both of Sebastian’s eyes as well as possible.
He stroked Seb over his clothes. “I think we could make a marvellous game of getting you off as quickly as possible,” Jim said. He freed Seb from his clothing and stroked him firmly. “I could give you another time limit in which to show off to me.”
Jim let go, took one of Sebastian’s large hands, and guided it over Seb’s prick. Covering that hand, he set a quick pace.
“Finish within my time restriction, and you get to come. Fail, and well… Daddy will have to come up with a wicked punishment for you.”
Sebastian’s hand slowed in annoyance at ‘Daddy’.
Jim grinned against Seb’s face and forced the motion for a few more strokes. Then he let go.
“However, as much as I would enjoy watching you clean your mess off of these guns, I have different plans for you today, precious Tiger.”
Jim batted away Seb’s hand and fixed Seb’s clothing, letting the elastic slap against Seb’s stomach.
“That’s for being a brat,” Jim whispered mockingly.
He kissed Sebastian yet again then gently uncovered the man’s narrowed eyes.
“Chores can wait,” Jim said. “I’ve got better plans for you, so get my favourite arse back to the house. We’re going upstairs.”
~
He should have known. Of course Jim would gleefully allow him to air whatever peculiar opinion he might have and then - prove it wrong. With bated breath Sebastian watched the slow movement of Jim’s hands towards his eyes – something he generally felt rather conflicted about. Being with Jim, he’d learned a lot about curbing his reflexes, but suppressing any movement to protect what, contrary to popular belief, were his most precious body parts didn’t come easy.
Jim’s hands folded over his eyes, but without any pressure, and a small kiss reassured him.
“It it was more a general observation,” Sebastian mumbled, “No doubt you could - ”
Of course Jim could. The parts of the Beretta clattered onto the table as Jim ran a hand down Sebastian’s body. Handling him with a brazen possessiveness that gave Sebastian an almost embarrassingly instant erection that proved Jim’s point in seconds. The whole demonstration would likely have been completed in under a minute, if Jim hadn’t aborted the experiment.
Sebastian gritted his teeth to not give Jim the satisfaction of hearing a whine as his hard-on was abandoned quite unceremoniously. What he couldn't suppress was a little wince as his waistband snapped back against his belly, a hair’s breath away from where it would have really hurt. The indignant huff he gave at Jim handling him like a fucking piece of meat, didn’t hardly distract from how much it turned him on. Still, Sebastian tried his best by glaring at Jim down his nose when his eyes were free again to do so. Jim smiled back knowingly, then... hinted at other plans.
Sebastian couldn’t help but grin. He was glad 'quality time' wouldn't be over that quick.
The pieces of the Beretta were still in a shambles on the table when they left the den. Sebastian couldn’t remember any situation when he'd ever left a weapon like that. Well, there was the chaos of war and enemy fire, and there was Jim Moriarty, wanting you upstairs...
~
Jim followed Seb up the steps at a distance where he could ogle Seb’s arse without risking being kicked. Seb tried to help him out of the trapdoor into the old coach house, and Jim clutched the jewellery box to himself protectively. That seemed to both exasperate and intrigue Sebastian, but a firm word and a pointed slap on his beautiful arse got him moving in the direction of the house again. Seb seemed to try to look reproachful about being bossed around and manhandled, but Jim simply scoffed at him and snatched up Seb’s wrist to drag the big blond inside faster.
Seb managed to keep up. His legs were longer than Jim’s, and his prick understood that it was in his best interest to oblige.
Once in the bedroom, Jim shed his suit jacket and placed the box down at the foot of Seb’s side of the bed.
Then he grabbed Sebastian by the front of his waistband and tugged him towards the bathroom. “You’re going to look your best,” Jim insisted.
Sebastian seemed dubious, but didn’t complain overly about being stripped. Probably because Jim was very intense about it.
Jim then pulled away to run the bath and roll up his sleeves. There was a selection of expensive scented products in a row and Jim opened a couple before offering them to Sebastian’s nose. “Do you have a preference, pet?”
~
Never mind the lewd handling, just Jim’sgaze was enough to quicken Sebastian’s breath, whenever the man looked at him – appreciative or taxing, hungry or … calculating. And with Jim walking purposefully behind him, he felt a shivers of heat running down his spine as though that gaze was smouldering holes into his clothes. Also, it was quite hard to feign indignation or dragging your feet while you were brimming with excitement and curiosity, so halfway through the yard Sebastian gave up the last feeble attempts.
The way Jim placed that mysterious black box down at the foot of the bed had a … ceremonial air about it. The box was a bit too big for ordinary jewellery, but then again, nothing was ordinary about Jim Moriarty… Sebastian’s mind came up blank when he tried guess the content – something that could not, in some shape or form be found in Jim’s underbed drawer already?
The question was momentarily forgotten, as Jim dragged him into the bathroom. You’re going to look your best. Suddenly more than just slightly puzzled, Sebastian froze. Look his best … for what?!
Or who…? For a moment he felt a jolt of unease as the strange turn of phrase seemed to insinuate that for whatever was about to happen, they would not be on their own? Were they going somewhere? Before crazy images - secret clubs complete with torture chamber and ritual human sacrifices - could spark a panic, Sebastian pulled himself together. There wasn’t much he’d put past Jim’s dark desires, but such a scenario was of course ludicrous. For one, it wasn’t safe. Also, Jim was a recluse, and possessive. He’d never share.
Except his shampoos and beauty products… While the water was filling the tub, he held a few open bottles under Sebastian’s nose, who, still calming his briefly jangled nerves, breathed in a bit too deeply. “Ugh, not this one.” A sneeze prickled behind his eyes but didn’t materialise. He took the next whiff more carefully, adjusting it to his heightened, changed sense of smell. Which made him wonder whether Jim’s had changed too? Was that … the reason he insisted on him having a bath?
“These two are nice.” One was a scent he associated with Jim the most, which was awfully nice, and also… if Jim had some issue with how he smelled, that was a safe bet? The content of the second bottle smelled just like its label looked: lush and green.
~
Jim looked at Sebastian for a long moment when one of his preferred scents was the same one Jim favoured. Jim remembered back to Seb inhaling from his hair, and how he felt about having switched out Seb’s shampoo to smell more like his own. More like him.
Jim felt a fresh spark of possessiveness and dumped a helping of the product into the bath before settling the bottles back in place.
He considered Sebastian as the bath ran, and stroked the golden stubble on his cheek. “You know, I should get rid of this, but it comes in so fast now I’d barely recognise your fresh face.” He tapped Seb gently. “You’re lucky this is a good look on you.”
Sebastian looked back at him, and Jim turned to check on the bath’s progress. His voice had sounded so warm it surprised him slightly. Jim frowned into the running water. That was okay, wasn’t it? Sebastian was his.
Jim held back a sigh at how much his life had been turned upside down; he dipped to check the temperature of the water and mix the scent through a bit more with a few impatient figure eights.
He turned back and lightly swatted Seb with the hand that was still dry.
“Come on, you big lump, in you go.”
Sebastian seemed bemused about being helped into the bath like a child or invalid, but being pulled up against the edge and kissed possessively seemed to make the ordeal worth tolerating.
Jim washed Sebastian with intense concentration. Part of him bubbled with excitement and he channelled that into his touch, every moment charged with with ritualistic intensity and an emotional response that he refused to name.
~
Sebastian was glad that at least his stubble didn’t offend Jim, even though the way he smelled did. Or … might? But if that was the case, wouldn’t have Jim just sent him off to ‘go have a fucking shower, tiger’, and not initiated something … some bathing ceremony?
Which felt weird and wonderful at the same time. After the first minute or so, during which Sebastian was sitting in the tub stiffly, very much like a pet with conflicting opinions about the procedure, he gradually relaxed, breathing in the scent spelling Jim. He started cooperating automatically by bowing his neck or raising an arm to give Jim better access, almost entranced by the sponge, the warm water and the intense focus with which Jim tended to him.
Still not quite sure whether this felt like the steps towards a ritual sacrifice or a baptism. A benediction. Saint Sebastian? Oh goody, they all knew how that had ended. Despite himself Sebastian grinned, imagining Jim in a priest’s robe, about to ladle holy water over his head.
Sebastian let himself slip down as Jim nudged him under water to briefly fully submerge him. Jim even wiped the water off his face so Sebastian could open his eyes again without a sting. “You know,” Sebastian said, blinking a bit and looking at Jim, “if this… is meant to accomplish some sort of exorcism, I don’t think it’s working. It feels much much too pleasant for that.” Sebastian voice was soft, and without any hint of mockery. Jim’s incessant research to keep his promise to fix him was so stubborn and touching, Sebastian would eternally grateful for it, regardless of the outcome.
~
Sebastian’s talk of exorcism had Jim thinking about healing waters and business trips to the Vatican. Although Seb’s senses might be too sensitive for a plane ride right now.
Jim jerked his attention back to Sebastian. “If I was cruel to you all of the time it’d get boring,” he said. He tapped Seb’s wet nose. “I need to keep your tolerance low enough that you continue to react so beautifully when I’m mean to you.”
Jim’s gaze glittered with playful threat, but when he pulled Seb close by his wet hair it was only to kiss him possessively.
“Since I’m being so pleasant I could let you soak for a while, but I confess I’m rather impatient to continue,” Jim said with a jagged smile. He reached down and stroked between Sebastian’s warm legs, ensuring Seb was quite willing to do as he was told for once.
Jim let the water drain and dried Sebastian off like a lesser man might polish a prized jewel. Seb shone, flushed and pink from the attention as much as the heat of the water.
Jim led him into the bedroom and took a cushion from a rarely used chair. He set that on the floor as though the angle its corners sat at mattered, then glanced back at Sebastian. Jim clicked his healed fingers and pointed. “Kneel there.”
He waited until Seb obeyed, then crossed the room to pick up the jewellery box.
~
“Fair point,” Sebastian mumbled, when Jim gave him the entirely calculated reason for being nice to him occasionally. It was solely to keep him sensitive and things from getting boring. Right. Not that Sebastian would get different ideas, they couldn’t have that, could they?
But, internally, Sebastian could still dream up other possible explanations, right? His eyes half closed in appreciation and pleasure when Jim pulled him close by his hair and kissed him roughly, and they stayed that way while he was very thoroughly dried off.
Curiosity and Jim’s infectious excitement had Sebastian following him more than willingly into the bedroom. His skin prickled from more than just the bath as he watched the adjustment of a pillow on the floor. A few weeks ago he’d probably still have feared some ritualistic dagger in the black box and would have unobtrusively looked around for telltale paraphernalia like a bowl to catch his blood, but… not anymore. He’d come to trust Jim, not blindly, not completely, but probably more than anyone had in a long time, and he wondered whether Jim would be pleased if he knew, or disappointed.
Jim snapping his fingers always annoyed him a little, not just the arrogant casualness of the command, but also how it seemed to set off some bloody mechanism inside himself, very much akin to that of Pavlov’s dog to the sound of the bell... All he could do to preserve some shred of dignity was to follow the instructions slowly (instead of falling over his own feet in a rush), before his knees folded and settled down on the cushion.
Out of the corner of his eyes he watched Jim fetch the black box.
~
Jim eyed Sebastian intently whilst returning to him with the box. He continued staring whilst standing before him, and as urgently as he wanted to do this, he couldn’t help but delay things to force a possessive kiss on Sebastian.
Having healed fingers was marvellous. Jim could easily grip Seb’s chin or yank the soft hair at Seb’s nape as hard as he pleased.
Sebastian was visibly pleased too when Jim eventually broke apart. His eager prick was almost as red and swollen as his lips now were. He was fucking beautiful.
But Jim held in one hand the means to make him prettier.
“You’re such a good boy. Despite all the cheek,” Jim said. “You agreed to be mine, and I want to reward you for that. Because whatever happens: you are mine. No going back.”
Jim toed Seb’s groin and added dryly, “Not that I think you want to.”
Jim massaged Seb’s neck. “I’m not going to make you jump through any hoops for this. You’ve already earned it, and it’s about time you had this.”
Jim opened the box, and didn’t spare Sebastian a glance before pouring gleaming metal into his fist and tossing the box back onto the bed. He warmed the heavy chain between his hands for a moment then lowered it around Sebastian’s bare throat.
“I do appreciate the black leather variety, but I thought a chain collar would put less strain on your authority, particularly outside,” Jim said with a half-smile. He ran his fingers along the links, exposing the hidden underside where he’d had letters engraved, not that Seb could see. Jim was glad of his healed fingers just for that. It was nice to be able to comfortably stand over Sebastian like this too.
Jim gave the bright chain a tug. “I’d rather this was the permanently sealed sort of jewellery, but I’ll make an accommodation whilst there’s still chances of you changing with the lunar cycle. To be clear: just because this has a fastening, does not mean you have permission to remove it. This only comes off when you’re feeling close to turning, understood, pet?”
~
Sebastian had mustered enough self-control to keep his hands to himself, but not quite enough to stay entirely in position. From sitting on his heels he’d automatically risen onto his knees again to kiss back eagerly.
Until Jim ended the kiss with a gleaming smile on his face and pushed him back down. With a purposefully placed foot against … well the point of best leverage Sebastian couldn’t help but to provide. It was tempting to rut against said foot, but no … shreds of dignity and all that, and yes, instead of the slight teasing, Jim still had that somewhat … formal air about him. Sebastian’s focus was back in a snap when it became clear this was … some sort of reward, and more, some sort of ceremony indeed. Not a commendation for being a good boy - that was just a little teasing embellishment, but the heart of the matter was … a more serious, solemn one. The acknowledgement of a bond. One Sebastian had agreed to repeatedly and in almost every possible thinkable way: To be Jim’s.
A bright gleam of metal was all Sebastian could catch of the piece of jewellery Jim took from the box and warmed it in his hand. Strangely, Sebastian’s heart settled down from jaunty excitement to a measured beat, as though understanding the gravity of the situation more quickly than Sebastian himself, and adjusting to it.
No going back. Not that he wanted to.
He caught another brief glance at the closely wrought chain link pattern before the metal settled around his neck with a silent whisper and he bowed his head so Jim could fasten it in the back.
An agreement sealed. Both a claim and a promise. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, in health and holy fucking god Jim could never know that was what went through Sebastian’s head or the ’till death do us part' part would come rather instantly.
Sebastian raised his head and his gaze again, struggling a bit to catch up on what Jim was saying, explaining his choice and the only reason this wasn’t going to be permanently sealed. Not because it was meant to go on and off like some jolly accessory. It wasn’t. This wasn’t jewellery that looked like a collar, but the other way round.
Sebastian nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment and engrossed by the sensation when Jim’s fingers emphasised the stability and the fit. Which must have been calculated to the fraction of an inch – it settled down around the base of Sebastian’s throat, it didn’t feel restricting (unless of course it would please Jim to twist it a bit so that it would) – but smooth and comfortable, and quite heavy. There. Reminding him of the new and most fundamental law of his existence, with more emphasis than even the chain of his dog tags ever had.
And apart from Jim, there was only one other force of nature that could make it come off.
Would necessitate it to come off…
Finally Sebastian found his voice again. “Understood.” He felt overwhelmed and a bit dizzy, yet strangely grounded as well. Safe.
And to say Jim looked pleased would have been an understatement - there was an almost exalted light in his eyes as they roamed over Sebastian.
Who finally dared to ask, “Can I … see?” What Jim was seeing?
~
Sebastian Moran had never looked so perfect. Jim felt conflict between the urge to crow to everyone about how perfect his pet looked and was… and the apprehension that letting Sebastian look at himself like this would expose something best left unsaid.
It was bad enough to have exposed his affection so nakedly with the three endearments engraved in the collar links. True, Jim hadn’t lowered himself to any iterations of ‘my heart’ or ‘my pulse’ because he wasn’t quite that pathetic, but a Google search would probably be enough for Seb to glean their meanings. Mo pheata wasn’t so terrible: it meant ‘pet’, which of course Sebastian was. Mo stór wasn’t anything Jim hadn’t said in English, but it sounded far less condescending in his childhood tongue. Getting an endearment engraved made it seem horribly sincere. And mo thaisce was one Jim knew he’d slipped into saying more than once when Sebastian was too sex addled to reach for a dictionary.
They all sounded uncomfortably fond.
But Jim was uncomfortably fond of Sebastian. And he hadn’t been able to resist such intimate customisation.
Jim had almost added mo tíogair but he didn’t know whether Sebastian would be his tiger forever. Perhaps after a cure the nickname would be an uncomfortable reminder of a time of tension. Jim wanted Seb’s collar to last longer than that.
And besides, three was a lucky number, and they needed all the help they could get.
Jim almost muttered a plea to saints that he didn’t much believe had any power to help him. The thought of showing Sebastian the gift both thrilled and unnerved Jim.
It felt so strangely intimate. Jim had fucked men bound in leather and O-rings before, but they’d never been lovers in quite the way that Sebastian was.
Jim petted Sebastian until his nerves eased to a more manageable level.
“I’m going to fuck you in front of the mirror, darling. Whether you can focus enough to see is a mystery we shall explore together, hmm?”
~
The very air around them shimmered with heat and excitement and other signals, subtle hints, mere molecules of scent Sebastian's senses had never been sharp enough to pick up ... before. Or maybe it was simply the way Jim was running his fingers through his hair and along the line of cool metal laying against warm skin … And yet… was there… was there a whiff of nervousness emanating from Jim’s palms? Before craning his neck and blatantly sniffing, Sebastian caught himself just in time and changed the movement, leaning his head into the touch.
It was a ludicrous notion – why should Jim feel awkward about his present? His suggestion of showing Sebastian exactly what it looked like…, what he looked like wearing it, certainly wasn’t awkward or timid. Quite the opposite, and it went straight to Sebastian’s groin and shortened his breath a little.
“That… yes, certainly seems … worth exploring.”
~
Jim felt a kick of hot lust at the breathy way Sebastian agreed. And yet…
He stayed where he stood. There was an ache in his throat, a twisting in his gut, and an alarming word on his tongue. That feeling he’d never felt before Sebastian… he felt it a thousandfold now. Like telling Seb he was his wasn’t just his right - everything Jim wanted belonged to him - but something… more. Something Jim had suspected for a while now, horrifying and undeniable. Although… in some lights… Jim didn’t mind it so much.
If Jim was ever going to tell Sebastian, he could do so now.
But he’d rather rip his tongue out than confess that shameful weakness.
Jim yanked Seb’s hair. “You know where you’re to go, so I suggest you crawl there. I’m going to get lube. Do you want any toys? No blindfolds of course.”
~
Of course Sebastian’s for better for worse and in all eternity fantasies were not only outrageous but entirely his own, and yet – for a few long, breathless seconds Jim, with his lips slightly parted, looked down at him as if he knew. Sebastian had seen that wide-eyed gaze before, occasionally.
For a moment the world seemed to freeze and hang in the balance because Jim … reevaluated. It could be merely a moody glitch in his attention, or a newly discovered factor affecting entire equations…
Just when Sebastian was sure Jim was about to say something, the moment disintegrated abruptly, Jim literally yanking Sebastian out of it by the hair. Making it clear that for all the symbolic significance that could be contributed to this present, he’d better not hold his breath for more.
Sebastian held his gaze until Jim let go of his hair and stepped back, reminding him of where he was supposed to go and ho - …
Crawl?!
Sebastian didn’t think so.
There were variations and degrees of submission he did not offer easily… Especially when Jim fancied a dash of humiliation to be involved, he really had to work for it. Which wouldn’t change with a bit of jewellery around Sebastian’s neck, no matter how beautiful or significant.
“Thank you,” Sebastian said, nodding towards the drawer Jim had just kicked it open. “No special wishes.”
Sebastian rose to his feet - slowly and unthreatening but in complete disregard for Jim’s suggestion. Instead he picked up two pillows from the bed and a luxurious rug from a chair, walked over to the mirrored doors of Jim’s walk-in wardrobe and dropped everything there. On the floor. “But please,” Sebastian gestured towards the drawer, taking in Jim’s almost comical look of stunned disbelief, “bring anything you think you might need.”
Out of the corner of his eyes Sebastian caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror, flushed and naked, the bright chain around his neck rather enhancing both facts.
With calm confidence he … reclined onto the floor, very much like a fastidious big cat might, and only after adjusting rug and pillows to his liking.
~
Sebastian and Jim both knew that any suggestions he made in that tone of voice were definitely directions meant to be promptly obeyed. But of course, Seb had a nasty little habit of thinking himself important enough (to Jim, or otherwise) to entirely disregard Jim Moriarty’s direct orders whenever Seb damn well pleased.
Sometimes that was an amusing novelty, or a fun reason to put him in his place. But Jim was pretty sure he’d made it clear that the moment he was sharing with Sebastian was a serious thing. Not a game. Jim’s tone had held a little playfulness yes, because he’d been intent upon fucking Seb’s meagre brains out and they both tended to find that fun.
But he’d just fucking collared Seb. Jim Moriarty, who owned everything, had seen fit to mark his ownership of Sebastian as special, as… fucking meaningful… and Seb had fucking seen fit to disobey the first thing he’d been told to do whilst collared. He was doing as he fucking pleased, like this and Jim didn’t matter. Like his being free to misbehave and live was a right of his, and not a generous indulgence granted by Jim Moriarty.
Once the initial shock wore off, Jim tilted his head with a frown and tried to consider what the fuck Seb was playing at. Yes, Seb didn’t like demeaning himself, but that was the whole fucking point; crawling the short distance would have been a submissive gesture, acknowledging the deeper submission Seb had supposedly offered what felt like a lifetime ago.
What the fuck was the point in collaring someone who didn’t intend to submit to you? It’s not like Seb was in the habit of accessorising.
Sebastian wasn’t acting like he’d done much wrong. He was lazing on the rug with feline grace. There wasn’t even a raised brow or chin indicating a playful challenge. Was this like when Jim had woken Seb in the night, and Seb had wanted him to be rough? Was he trying to manipulate Jim into putting him in his place?
He shouldn’t need put in his place. He should know it. Jim was being more vulnerable and communicative of his feelings than he would ever ordinarily be… and Sebastian Moran was choosing to take the piss!
Jim kicked the underbed drawer closed again.
“No. Fuck this.” He directed his fiery gaze towards Seb and gestured tightly at his throat. “You can get rid of that if you don’t want this. I’m going out.”
~
Sebastian froze when Jim’s demeanour changed like a switch had been flipped. With a sudden sense of vertigo Sebastian's brain scrambled to make a connection, but to be fair… there weren’t too many possibilities of what he’d done to cause this, or rather… not done. Not just angering Jim but disappointing him…, which was the worst. And yet, almost simultaneously Sebastian felt a twitch of dissent inside him, almost like a sliver of disappointment of his own.
So much for the hoops he did not need to jump through today… Was that how it was going to be? Jim expecting unconditional obedience in every little way, or otherwise doubting and questioning everything that collar meant? Or what Sebastian had thought it meant… A bond, infinitely more fundamental and meaningful than (and not necessarily requiring) him crawling meekly whenever Jim snapped his fingers.
“No,” Sebastian said, sitting up. “I do want it, and you know it.”
But this is not how this works he almost added, but even feeling treated unfairly you did not tell Jim Moriarty how things worked.
“I am yours,” he said slowly. “No going back,” he quoted Jim’s own words. “But if you question it over something like … this – what’s it worth?” To Sebastian it had felt like a vow. One that went both ways. Not like something Jim would, or could take back at the slightest transgression, at the drop of a hat… “Feels a bit like getting the divorce papers because dinner was cold.”
Jim stared at him, unreadable, and Sebastian had the sinking feeling that instead of climbing out of the hole he was still digging. Here was the thing: they were wired differently, and options ranged from understanding each other blindly to any communication going awfully awry.
If Jim had never before opened up to anyone like this, he was bound to feel hurt or even insecure at the slightest suspicion that the person graced with such a gift, such a rite of passage, didn’t take it seriously. While Sebastian had taken it so seriously he had deemed any silly symbolism like crawling quite redundant.
“I’m sorry. I should have done as you asked.” Sebastian had propped himself upright into a kneeling position, sitting on his heels. Not quite a formal submissive posture, but a far cry from lazing about nonchalantly. “Please don’t go out.” He lifted his chin ever so slightly. “I hate it when you reek of other people.”
~
Jim stayed silent as Sebastian spoke. It was difficult to allow himself to make sense of what Seb was saying, or his own feelings.
Sebastian’s mention of other people startled Jim out of his thoughts. Did Seb mean the blood and guts and gore of someone else, like before, or had he recognised Jim’s actual intent?
“I don’t see why you should get a say in whether or not I fuck people who’ll actually do as they are told,” Jim said coldly.
He was tempted to say a lot of crueller things besides, but tried to pick apart what Sebastian had said instead. The urge to lash out in vengefulness was strong, but so had been the affection and attachment Jim had felt for Sebastian moments ago.
“You should have done as I asked,” Jim said tightly.
He breathed out carefully, frown deeply etched into his face.
“What the fuck else am I supposed to do but question it?” Jim demanded in a growl. “I try to… to give you a place, tell you that you fucking matter, and your first instinct is to disobey me, to disrespect me? I wasn’t asking you for anything huge or difficult- just a token gesture of submission, after something I thought you understood was important. I wanted …accord. Just for that. I know you’re an arrogant bastard and I don’t ask you to crawl for me often, do I? Literally or figuratively. And I’m indulgent with you, amn’t I? I don’t discipline you harshly for every little transgression- and you know you disobey me more than anyone else would get away with. I thought we wanted-”
We. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Jim had started thinking of them as a pair. A partnership. He was losing the strong core of who he was, because he had attached himself to the world’s most ungrateful bastard. Jim was getting soft.
And Seb knew it too. Not only did he disobey and argue, he’d fucking compared this to a marriage. Like they were some sort of equal partnership who cared about each other.
As absurd and offensive as that was, Jim couldn’t help but picture Sebastian in his kitchen. Realistically, food would have gotten cold because Jim was too busy working, and he would have been more inclined to scold Seb for interrupting him at all. But if Seb was his… husband? Would Jim make more effort to come to the table then? Would the sight of his husband cooking their dinner in Seb’s kitchen distract him? Would the food get cold as Jim bent Seb over the table, wedding band glinting as Sebastian dug in his fingers with Jim’s every thrust?
Jim felt dizzy, and sick. The image was so alarming he’d forgotten to breathe, and this was all Seb’s fault. All Jim’s fault for allowing Seb to matter.
He’d made nothing but mistakes since Sebastian moved in.
~
It felt like a low blow to hear Jim casually mention other people more worthy of his attention, but not half as painful as seeing him tight and tense, sounding hurt and almost disgusted by all the things he’d done for the… insensitive and ungrateful bastard Sebastian Moran. Sebastian endured the barrage with lowered gaze and a small shake of his head, but he knew better than to interrupt.
Jim’s speech ended abruptly mid-air -
we
’I thought we wanted-’
There was a strange expression on Jim’s face - angry, confused, ...startled?
Well, Sebastian thought, what did you think we want?
– this to be more?
More than ‘boss shagging employee’? ‘housemates with extras’?
Jim stared into the middle distance, as though at a loss for words. But whatever it was that he was too shocked or unable or unwilling to spell out, Sebastian couldn’t think of anything he’d refuse. Not because he’d ever presume to truly know the mind of Jim Moriarty, but regardless that he didn’t.
I thought we wanted - - …
“ - the same thing?”, Sebastian offered quietly. “We do.” Then he corrected with a tiny shrug: “I do.”
Even months ago, the very first moment when the burning darkness of those eyes had turned towards him, settled down on him, their intensity had made Sebastian's breath catch, his skin prickle, and reduced all his thoughts to ‘yes please’.
They’d been d’accord from the day they met. Jim knew that, didn’t he?
Dominance and submission the two sides of the very same coin. One incomplete without the other.
“You… giving me this,” Sebastian’s fingertips brushed against the links of the heavy necklace, “was not a ‘token gesture‘, so … I didn’t think one was needed in return.”
But he still should have given it.
Because the nature of submitting was not doing as he pleased, but what Jim felt he should be doing.
~
Jim breathed out slowly, shaken, and disoriented by Sebastian’s quiet, serious murmur of accord. Jim wanted far too much. He didn’t know what he wanted. But it was all too much.
Except… Sebastian’s voice. Low, soothing, peaceable. Unusually so, given how much he often seemed inclined to get on Jim’s last nerve.
Jim took another slow breath.
The same thing? We do. I do. He repeated it in his head.
If Sebastian seemed certain of that, was it enough?
Jim wanted it to be enough.
He watched Seb mutely as those large fingers touched the metal links Jim had put such consideration and meaning into.
“It… wasn’t a token gesture,” Jim agreed heavily.
~
“Then please…” Sebastian, still kneeling, bowed his head. With his palms turned upwards, like someone offering his hands, or his sword… or to open his veins, if that’s what it took… “please stay.”
For all he could imagine - this was as close to a wedding night as they’d ever get.
~
Jim was disoriented by how his anger drained away. He wasn’t entirely sure whether it was Moran’s work or whether his body simply knew that he didn’t want to fight with Seb, or go fuck anyone else.
Jim sighed.
Then he walked slowly towards Sebastian and curled a stiff arm around him. “You make me so fucking mad sometimes,” Jim said tensely, pressing close.
~
When Jim did not move away, but finally... closer, Sebastian exhaled shakily, relieved. Leaning into the contact, his shoulders sagged a little and his next breath almost turned into a groan. Keeping to ‘below the waist‘ by default, his arm snaked around Jim’s clothed leg, not too tight, but enough to interfere should Jim change his mind.
He didn’t. His arm, still a bit stiff and awkward, stayed around Sebastian’s shoulders, who turned his head a little to place a reverential kiss on Jim’s arm.
“I’m sorry. I don’t intent to,” he murmured into the crook of Jim’s elbow. “Make you mad.” After a little pause he bravely admitted: “Most of the time.”
~
Jim exhaled slowly when Sebastian apologised and then scoffed a little shakily at his daring. Fingers reaching for Seb’s collar, Jim didn’t pull away at that insubordination. He gave a soft tug instead, then held the links in his hand, the heavy metal a comforting weight. “Sometimes, darling, I just want you to be a good boy for me,” Jim said.
~
The length of the collar was perfect, as it allowed Jim - barely - to slip his fingers underneath it and turn the comfortable fit into a very snug one. “I am.” Sebastian pressed closer, tilting his head just so the movement added another increment of tension to the chain. “Most of the time.”
After all, that was the reason Jim had gotten him … this, wasn’t it? Jim’s fingers held the chain yet a bit more tight, and Sebastian closed his eyes, rubbing his scratchy cheek against his leg.
The weighty connection of the chain a mutual reassurance. The smallest movement of Sebastian a hint at the formidable strength of the beast Jim had made his own, controlling it with a mere curl of his fingers. They both knew that no one else in the world had the power to do this, because no one else would ever be given that power, because no one else was worthy of it.
~
Sebastian’s words helped ease some of the remaining unease Jim felt at backing down from the fight. He stayed pressed close to Sebastian, taking comfort in the immovable weight of the bigger man, and squeezed the collar until the links left grooves on his fingers.
“Yeah,” Jim admitted slowly. “You are.”
That meant something, didn’t it?
~
Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief at Jim’s agreement. The tension of the chain was grounding, as was the solid shape of Jim’s thigh against the side of his chest. In turn, Sebastian’s shoulder had found the perfect place to rest just below of Jim’s hip, the angle of his jaw above it. To look up would have meant to break that close and comfortable position, but Sebastian didn’t need to to see Jim’s face, as he realised when he turned his head just a fraction…
Yes, he had wanted to see them, and now he did, and the mirrored image was breathtaking. And fucking … hot. And also… more than just that. Full of symbolism, sensual, powerful. Him on his knees, naked but for the chain, Jim’s hand holding it tight. The pristine black and white of his casually suave clothes in stark contrast to Sebastian’s tanned, bare skin. Like the Yin and Yang of raw physical and fierce intellectual power, not pitted against each other, but complementing each other.
The image was beautiful, and of course brimming with all the countless possible connotations of such a match.
Their eyes met.
“So, you won’t go out.” Sebastian’s quiet voice held a strange inflection, indiscernible whether it was a plea or a statement of fact. “I’ll sleep on a chain, at the foot of your bed, if that’s what it takes.” It wasn’t really a joke, although the faintest smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. And he realised with a flush of heat, that that wasn’t the only part of him that twitched at that image.
~
Jim felt Sebastian’s chest relax a little against him and registered how that physical sensation made his body relax a bit more too - whether he wanted it to or not. That felt unfairly manipulative, and confusing, but not… repulsive. It was sort of intriguing, and intimidating, but comforting all at the same time. They’d just had a disagreement, which had had the potential to become something quite ugly. Somehow -and not for the first time- Sebastian had talked Jim down. The man had a pull Jim couldn’t explain, much like the feelings that Jim could neither escape nor put into words. Not that he wanted to.
His fingers carded through the links of Seb’s chain like rosary beads, finding the hidden letters like a charm to soothe himself.
Sebastian’s head shifted marginally and Jim looked down. Then he followed Seb’s gaze to the mirror.
Sebastian seemed taken with the sight of them. Jim might have wanted a portrait of them looking exactly like this dominating an entire wall somewhere he’d see it every day. Except it was too raw. Too personal. Their image was an aesthetic of beautifully matched sexual partners, but it was clearly more than that too. And Jim couldn’t bear to let anyone see the real depth of that, not even themselves.
He met Sebastian’s gaze.
Seb gave him an order. It wasn’t quite, but it was. Because this wasn’t just one-sided. Jim was overt in his ownership of Moran, but he was horribly aware of the covert power Sebastian was developing over him.
The worst bit was that Jim felt safe still. The pull was comforting. He’d never had anything like this, but he couldn’t hide the fact when he met Seb’s gaze in the mirror that he wanted this.
Jim’s prick wanted this too, as it swelled to attention near Seb’s cheek as the blond offered to make amends sleeping on a chain at the foot of Jim’s bed.
Sebastian’s cock seemed to very much like that idea as well. All parts of them were connected, and whether Jim wanted a weakness or not, being bound to Sebastian wasn’t without its good points. Christ, not by a long shot.
“You’d look pretty as a picture-” and Jim did want a portrait of that, “-but I’d rather have you in my bed.” Jim gave the collar a fond tug. “Within reach, where you belong.”
~
Sebastian hummed in agreement - a riveting picture indeed: collared, chained, content. A bit bruised and bloodied for colour. But even more warmth flooded through him when Jim stated he wanted him in his bed, where he belonged.
“I do,” Sebastian murmured. “I didn’t offer to sleep on the rug permanently.” After a little pause he added, with a something half grimace, half a smile, “Although we still might consider the arrangement every four weeks.”
~
Jim’s lips twitched of their own volition at Sebastian’s assertion that the bedtime offer was a temporary thing.
And then he pictured the ferocious beast Sebastian had been. Was taming even possible in time, if a cure still resisted being found?
“I’m sure you could keep me wonderfully cosy with that thick coat of yours,” Jim murmured. He glanced at the bed and added with a small frown, “I’m not convinced the bed could take the weight of two tigers though. Even a little one.”
~
“Yes, I would… keep you safe and warm. Because in a little while you’ll be back to your usual hypothermic self, not turn into a tiger. Not even a little one.” Of course, both of this was wishful thinking. But so much more enjoyable to imagine than the alternative.
~
“I’d like that,” Jim murmured. “Not… you not being cured. I’ll get you whatever you need that’s in my power to get you.” Jim combed through Seb’s not quite dry hair with his free hand. “But a great big, overgrown beast to keep me warm at night and protect me from intruders? That doesn’t sound terrible, does it?”
~
“No it doesn’t... sound terrible at all.” Sebastian leaned his head into Jim’s hand. “And… you have that already.”
He swallowed around the lump in his throat at Jim’s reassurance to do everything in his power. Which, coming from Jim Moriarty, was more than anyone in the world could promise. Whether it would be enough to find a cure, suddenly almost didn’t matter.
“I mean, I’ll be that, in whichever shape or form.” The overgrown beast who warmed Jim and kept intruders away. He smiled. “Just that the tiger might not be as easy to boss around.”
~
Jim unconsciously gave Sebastian an affectionate squeeze. “Mine, no matter what,” he agreed. Even when disobedient.
He gave Seb’s collar a firm tug. “Your tiger self will learn to be a good boy if he knows what’s good for him.”
~
“I’m sure a rolled-up newspaper and a firm voice will work wonders,” Sebastian joked, despite his worries. After all, he had no conscious recollection of the hours of the tiger, nor of any interconnection between what seemed to be a … split consciousness. One without the slightest knowledge of the other. But maybe that didn’t necessarily have to stay that way?
“I’ll do everything that’s in my power too,” he promised Jim back, quietly.
~
Jim tugged Sebastian’s hair. “Should I try that on you in this form too?”
His dry expression softened at Sebastian’s promise. Jim played with Seb’s collar and murmured, “You’re taking on plenty already. Get through it as best you can and that’s enough, treasure.”
~
“I will. We will.” Sebastian didn’t mind Jim’s firm grip in his hair, or on the chain – quite the opposite. “We got through it the first time, when we didn’t really know what was coming, now we do. It can only get easier, right?”
Jim’s fingers traced the links of the chain and Sebastian’s skin. “Thank you… for this.” Sebastian hoped he didn’t read too much into this, more than it meant for the man who had given it to him. We.
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed,” Sebastian quoted. Which might be a bit reckless, because fickle as Jim was he might not share that sentiment.
~
Jim fervently hoped it would get easier, but the worry remained that the worst was yet to come. One ferocious beast per full moon was more than enough. Two, or more, spelled certain trouble.
But there was plenty of time to worry over that later. He and Sebastian were sharing a quiet moment, and something in Jim’s chest felt hot and loose as Seb thanked him for the beautiful collar.
Dryly, Jim raised a brow as Sebastian chose to get smart again. But the feeling in his chest didn’t fade away.
“I think we’ve established that you are not tamed, or even fucking housetrained,” Jim pointed out archly. He slapped Sebastian’s cheek lightly, then cupped it, tilting Seb up to look him in the eyes properly.
“Are you intent on running your mouth at me all day, or do you want me inside of you, pet?”
~
Sebastian chuffed, then playfully flashed his teeth at the slap. Locking eyes with Jim, he straightened his back, lasciviously pressing closer, his chest to Jim’s groin… Which, trousers or not, gave him a pretty good idea of Jim’s preference. As to Sebastian himself… well – it was more the position which didn’t lend itself well to rutting against Jim’s leg that momentarily preserved his dignity.
“So, are you - ” Sebastian’s voice caught a little, in an atmosphere that had gone from charged to quiet and back again in the space of a few moments, “- saying you expect me to stay completely quiet?”
Of course this was not what Jim had been saying at all.
~
Sebastian arching like that had that heat in Jim’s chest pooling lower. He twitched as Seb’s voice caught and smiled at the man’s words.
“Sweetheart, we already know you don’t keep quiet even when I gag you,” Jim pointed out smoothly. He squeezed Sebastian’s lovely face. “And I love to hear you.”
Jim glanced back at where he’d discarded the lube. He could order Sebastian to crawl and fetch it.
But he didn’t want to strain the peace they’d built.
Still, he could be creative with Seb’s punishment. He let go of Sebastian’s face, gave him another fond pet, then a firm nudge.
“Hands and knees, tiger. You’re going to watch yourself as I prep you from behind. I want you under no foolish illusions about who you belong to.”
~
No, Sebastian was under no illusions, even if Jim had to remind him every now and again.
No matter how fondly he looked at Sebastian at any given moment, somewhere between the convoluted traits of his messed up personality, beneath the layers of moods and quirks and dispositions, there was one that was dark, erratic and volatile. Sebastian knew that with his previous disobedience he had fucked up, scraping past disaster with luck and by the skin of his teeth. So this time… he complied without a word, sinking back down. Hands and knees. No backchat, no delay, no token resistance. Any leniency on Jim’s part was used up and whatever he would want now in return - he’d get.
It made Sebastian both hard and his stomach flip.
~
Jim ran a hand along Sebastian’s back and dipped to give Seb’s temple an approving kiss. “Good boy.”
He retrieved the lube and looked Sebastian over. Exquisite. Jim returned with a smile and settled in the space between Seb’s strong legs. He stroked them admiringly and peppered Seb’s rear with a few kisses and bites. Jim pushed his nose between Sebastian’s cheeks, nuzzling and licking with a proprietary air. Seb’s catching breath seemed without complaint.
Jim opened the lube and gave Seb’s cheek a kiss. Then he warmed the lubricant in his hands and teasingly rubbed some into Seb, taking his time but now and again pushing in just hard enough to make Seb’s toes curl and his lips part with some charming responses.
“Not so terrible being my good boy, is it?” Jim asked archly.
~
Little tremors ran through Sebastian, as he was torn between melting into the sensations, and shuddering little shock waves that the most intimate of Jim’s touches and kisses ignited. Rushing along neural connections Sebastian hadn’t even known he had before … falling into the hands of Jim Moriarty, literally. Just like the other day when Jim had done these things to him for the first time, his brain stalled.
Just that this time Jim had him watch, and … see what he meant when delighted in how beautifully responsive …? Lips parted, face flushed (his cock too), eyelids fluttering, before they snapped open again - Sebastian exhaled with a rush of air as Jim’s fingers pushed, wickedly, for an answer ...
“No, ‘tis not,” Sebastian slurred and Jim gleefully continued to prove that he could and would take everything, and that he was in a position where even Sebastian Moran’s legendary self-control was barely a challenge to him. Sebastian panted with lust and arousal, and an equally hot twist of embarrassment. Their eye contact in the mirror broke when Jim disappeared behind him again and …
Sebastian’s elbows buckled and he tried to stifle a particularly undignified sound against his forearm.
~
Jim looked up from what he’d done with his mouth to tisk playfully. Relishing his healed hands, he gave Sebastian a firm spank, then another.
“Honestly, Sebastian, I thought we’d just agreed you wouldn’t be naughty.” Jim pushed three fingers in, then twisted. Pushed. Spanked Seb some more, each slap exposing fondness in the lingering of Jim’s fingertips.
“You know I love to hear you,” Jim reminded him.
Finally stopping the swats but making no effort to gentle his other fingers, Jim leaned along Seb’s back and grabbed his hair. Pulled.
Sebastian found himself persuaded (dragged) back up, until he was pressed against Jim’s upright chest. Jim nipped Seb’s throat and added another finger.
“Look at me,” Jim reminded Sebastian, indicating the mirror with a nudge of his cheek. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to watch. Because you’re mine, and I want to be certain that you know it.”
The hand that had yanked Seb’s hair curled around his throat, brushing the new collar possessively.
~
Jim’s wish to hear Sebastian was granted immediately as he replaced his tongue with his fingers - several by the feel of it, and quite harshly – and Sebastian came up for air with a gasping shout. Jim sharpened the edge of pleasure and pain further with a few loving swats that made Sebastian clench reflexively against the intrusion, only to push in regardless. Just as the sublime sensation of Jim leaning in was followed by a tight grip in his hair, pulling him upright and closer…, and back onto Jim’s fingers -
Sebastian jerked, groaning loudly -
- sweet fucking Jesus, how many had he left?
Look at me
Breathing roughly, Sebastian did, but of course not without seeing himself too … His eyes, narrowed against the stinging grip on his scalp, had the conflicting urge to roll back in his head with lust while staying glued to the image in the mirror (or maybe close with a flutter of humiliation) - knees apart, naked, hard … Jim holding him from behind, with a rapt gaze drinking in the sight as well, and telling him what was going to happen. He let go of Sebastian’s hair and his hand slid down and around his throat, mimicking the position of the gleaming chain around it.
And then his other hand suddenly did something that shocked Sebastian into a yelp and a full-body twitch like a jolt of electricity. Jim held him tight, the mirror flashing his beaming smile back at Sebastian as his vision cleared again.
~
Jim slowly eased the firm pressure he had placed against Sebastian’s prostate and bared his teeth in smugness at the impossible to ignore response the firm touch had had. Sebastian was hazy, shocked with the pleasure after the distraction of their reflection.
Jim nuzzled him to attention. “That’s what good boys get: pleasure. You’ll be good for me at least for now, won’t you?” His fingers worked inside Sebastian as he asked, making refusal perfectly difficult.
As Seb seemed to agree, Jim removed his fingers from within the man. Confusion clouded Sebastian’s expression and Jim didn’t need the mirror to see it.
“Going to fuck you, like I promised,” Jim said, unzipping. “Going to make you feel so lovely, my darling. So perfectly mine.”
He kissed Sebastian, grinding close, then guided himself to Seb’s slick opening. Jim pulled away from Sebastian’s mouth, meeting his gaze in the mirror for a long beat, and then he pushed in.
~
Sebastian managed a - somewhat inarticulate - sound that there’d been no malicious intent to not be a good boy and turned his head to make the most of the kiss, without breaking position or the close contact. Jim’s body radiated heat through even through his clothes, but the fact that they stayed on was a heavily symbolic gesture. Not equals. Not today. This fuck was not going to slip into the heedless intimacy that happened occasionally… for a few mindless moments or minutes or even the odd, sleep-addled hour during the night. Today was about submission, about Sebastian acknowledging it. Internalising the meaning of Jim’s gift, which of course went way beyond wearing a fancy piece of jewellery. It was emphasised by the bare minimum of undressing on Jim’s part – merely unzipping. The casual dominance of the gesture melted Sebastian’s brain just as much as the contrast between the burning stretch as Jim pushed in, and the cool smoothness of Jim’s shirt against his back as he bottomed out. Pleasure was etched on Jim’s face, but all in all looking a lot more composed than Sebastian. Who was allowed to catch his breath, briefly, before it left him again in a shaky groan when Jim ground in again, deeper, with a move that mashed his belt buckle into the base of Sebastian’s spine, zipper teeth catching on very sensitive skin.
The mixture of pleasure and pain Jim dished out wasn’t always well-balanced, he could turn the one or the other into the complete opposite, but no matter what he did, he always, always kept his promises…
Going to fuck you… Going to make you feel so lovely, my darling. So perfectly mine.
And Sebastian, hands planted on the ground again, welcomed whatever that entailed, pushing back.
~
When Sebastian dropped back to his knees, Jim released his collar and dragged his nails along Seb’s torso. He bit back a groan as Sebastian pushed back against him, welcoming Jim deeper inside, and Jim grabbed Seb’s hips, snapping them even closer with enough pressure to leave bruises that Sebastian would remember regardless of his supernatural healing abilities.
Jim set a pace that was not punishing, but violent enough to recognise the challenge that Sebastian seemed to love. Jim was rough, and every part of Seb was reminded of that. Marked with it. Jim’s grip and pace were brutal, and Sebastian took them like an oath. Everything he endured seemed an act of fealty, and Jim’s chest twinged at the devotion.
Jim had never found a worthy playmate before. But this… But Sebastian was something Jim could never have imagined. The supernatural healing was neither here nor there. And although remarkable, the fact that Jim cared enough about Sebastian to hold back from breaking him was not quite the point either.
Jim had designed and gifted Seb’s collar because he felt an attachment to the man that he had never felt for another soul. So Jim was claiming Sebastian for his own. With every thrust. With every scratch and bite and pinch of Seb’s perfect, pink nipples. With every second Jim plastered himself against Seb’s back and breathed in the perfection of him.
Jim kissed the now warm collar at the back of Sebastian’s neck. Seb was his.
~
They’d lost eye contact, because Sebastian, overwhelmed, bracing himself against this
force of nature gripping him, had dropped his head. Now, breathing harshly in time with Jim’s thrusts, he lifted it again, instinctively keeping his neck in reach of Jim’s lips.
The onslaught of sensation had left his vision slightly unfocused but it didn’t fail to make his breath catch again. If someone…. anyone would have shown him such an image a year ago, or even just suggested it in a whisper, Sebastian would flayed him alive and punched his teeth down his throat. But also, surreptitiously and when no one was looking, he would have stolen a furtive glance at that image, out of the corner of his eyes only, wondering - mouth dry, heart pounding, heat gripping his insides - who the man in such a picture could be. Because it defied the power of his imagination that he could even exist.
Now he knew.
Now he could see … Him… - deceptively slender, strong hand gripping his hips, nails clawing his flesh, adorning his skin with red weals … The proprietary sweep of his neck as he leaned over him to kiss and bite, a single black strand of hair (just one, as if to underline how everything this man did, he did effortlessly) falling across the achingly perfect curve of his brow… Every touch, every move, every thrust an act of taking possession of what was his due.
And all that before even mentioning his eyes, for which, when they looked up, there was no description or comparison in any language. They saw right through you, they took over your soul, and made you understand everything there was to know. His.
Sebastian pushed himself back up, until only three fingertips of his left hand still touched the ground and just far enough to give Jim a better view in return, because – Jim saw him too.
And see he should – his prize in naked glory, bare skin and the shadow of scars, muscles tense underneath. Jim shifted a bit, his knees now pushing Sebastian’s further apart. Better angle, more depth. Sebastian groaned. His head dipped backwards and Jim changed his hold, wrapping an arm around him, his hand appreciatively, firmly roaming down Sebastian’s belly. Then he rolled his hips again and the still functioning rest of Sebastian’s brain – groping for words to bring attention to his straining, ignored cock - was completely derailed. The mere notion that Jim was maybe able to feel himself moving inside him almost had Sebastian coming right there and then.
He was panting, and Jim smiled. Sebastian’s eyes never left the mirror, and to his foggy gaze the gleaming chain around his neck looked like it was part of his skin.
~
Sebastian was full of want, as he ought to be, and so overwhelmed he was incapable of voicing any of it coherently. He had even lost the ability to babble, reduced to mere animalistic noises that Jim found quite motivational.
The positive feedback loop of Jim’s actions causing Seb to react, forcing Jim to reward Sebastian with further such attention, seemed like the natural order of things. Seb’s pleasure was intoxicating, and in the manner of the drunk, Jim’s every movement was becoming ever so deliberate. Every firm plunge into Sebastian’s warm depths was burned into Jim’s senses. Though unable to speak, Sebastian’s desperation for Jim to touch his feverish cock was thoroughly loud, and Jim trembled with it, like he was too near a booming speaker at a sweaty club.
“From now on, you only ever come when I want you to,” Jim promised. He finally touched Sebastian’s needy cock, making Seb’s incoherent voice crack loudly.
“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this,” Jim decreed, giving Sebastian a torturous stroke. “Only I get to fuck you. Only I am allowed to hurt you.” Jim stroked Sebastian in time with each declaration. “You belong to me. You sleep in my bed. Your body is for my use.”
Jim kissed Sebastian’s sweating skin. “You are my most favourite possession.”
Seb was trembling. It was unlikely he was able to process language at this point, but he seemed to grasp Jim’s tone. The noises he made as he bucked helplessly in Jim’s masterful fist seemed like agreement or at least obedience.
“I want you to come for me, my treasure. Then I’m going to fill you up with me, claim you as mine, because you are. I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tiger?” Jim purred, aligning his thrusts with the movement of his arm.
~
Between Jim’s thrusts and his hand around Sebastian’s cock, it wasn’t easy to grasp the meaning of every word, but Jim underlined them beautifully, emphasising every point he made in a way that let just enough air reach Sebastian’s brain to understand … on a very basic level… , in that ancient part that harboured primal needs, learned from gratification and punishment, and understood things like a hot stove or the ding of a bell.
Regions that might have liked to discuss the finer points were momentarily lacking the blood to even register them.
He did register the permission though, more from Jim’s movements and tone of voice than the words, and it felt like stepping out of a plane, with the ground rushing up to meet you at thousand miles per hour, ripcord and any control gone. His orgasm hit Sebastian with a force that had him almost white out – Jim stroking and fucking him through wave after wave of helpless, convulsing, trembling pleasure. Still panting and gradually coming back to his senses he managed to fight overwhelming urge to simply collapse, also courtesy to Jim’s arm around his middle and a helping hand fisted into his hair.
Although his mind had completely blanked out for Sebastian wasn’t quite sure for how long, he knew Jim hadn’t come yet - maybe to fully soak up the show, not wanting to miss anything, maybe to have Sebastian not miss anything. To have him, now spent and edging into hypersensitivity, acutely aware of Jim starting to move inside him again, first slowly and measured, then more forcefully. His hand had never left Sebastian’s cock, his grip tight enough to keep him hard. Sebastian let out a ragged groan, embracing the ache just as much as the pleasure before. He saw himself in the mirror, the sweat, the tremors along his thighs and abdomen every time Jim slammed into him… Jim, whose eyes glowed dark, drunk, triumphant… And yes, Sebastian did not want to miss a single detail either.
~
Jim had been thoroughly enjoying watching Sebastian’s reflection as he came, and of course also enjoying the sensation of fucking Seb whilst he spasmed through what was quite rightly an intense orgasm.
Jim hadn’t quite had the foresight to expect Sebastian to lift his head and gaze in time to look back at Jim as he grew close. Sebastian seemed fascinated, despite his exhaustion, and Jim smirked a little raggedly back at him. The attention was flattering, but Jim had already reached the point of no return, moving past when it was comfortable to hold Seb’s gaze, teasing and arousing, into something less amusing. Sebastian’s new collar glinted near Jim’s face in the mirror’s reflection, distracting him from any hope of being able to keep his expression neutral when his rapidly approaching orgasm hit.
Huffing, Jim buried his teeth in Seb’s shoulder, breaking eye contact as well as skin, and roared against Sebastian wordlessly as his climax took him hard. Jim scratched parallel lines over Seb’s torso without quite meaning to, barely having the presence of mind to continue trying to muffle himself against Seb’s shoulder, and filled Sebastian with a heat that matched the burning where Jim had broken skin.
~
Jim’s little superior smirk suddenly evaporated into … something that was usually Sebastian’s prerogative? A little touch of self-consciousness? The deeply ingrained reflex to hide his face during the moment that had anyone at their most vulnerable, open and unguarded. A streak of fury about being subjected to this like … a bloody ordinary human being? Stifling what would otherwise betray things no one was to know? Or sheer pleasure, the animalistic act of sinking his teeth into his mate, into conquered prey, into anything that was not to get away again, ever.
Not that Sebastian wanted to. He gasped, enveloped by all-consuming heat. The heat of friction and blood trickling down his shoulder, the heat of Jim’s breath, the searing lines tearing his skin, the heat spilling inside him.
The heat of the furnace that kept shaping him into what and who Jim desired, needed, wanted him to be.