"This is how I want you to remember me."
Sebastian looked into the criminal's black eyes, narrowing his own. There were few times he could tell what was crossing his mind. That wasn't one of those. Anyway, it was easy to obey him: Jim Moriarty was looking gorgeous. He was wearing nothing but a crown, lying on the dark red sheets, with a naughty smirk playing on his lips. Sebastian was unable to take his eyes off him. The blond man kneeled in front of the bed, willing to follow every single order he was given. Jim wasn't his boss, not anymore, not at that very moment. He was his king.
The sniper had just arrived the flat after finishing the last task he had been given, feeling quite upset. The last days Jim had been talking every single minute about Sherlock Holmes and Sebastian could not help being jealous, as he knew how bad the other man wanted him and how obsessed he was. Before knowing the Virgin, the only man who had been on Jim's mind for so long had been himself. So the times his boss was planning something concerning the detective, Sebastian spent most of his time outside home to prevent himself from yelling at Jim, getting mad and eventually hitting him.
So when he arrived and found out the little surprise, his heart fastened and his mouth dried. He saw the handcuffs, the rope and the knives on the bedside table; he heard his favorite music playing. Above everything, he saw an aroused, playful, naked Jim waiting for him. Just for him.
"Yes, sir" he crawled into the bed and his trousers started to tighten. He pressed his lips against the small man's roughly, bitting his lower lip, sucking his tongue, as he put one hand on the criminal's neck and pulled him closer. When he leaned back, Jim was breathless and his mouth was bleeding. Blood always turned Sebastian on.
"My, Sebby, you had a hard day, didn't you?" Jim stretched his arm to reach the rope and the handcuffs. "Don't worry, I will make you forget. Hands up" Sebastian put his hands above his head and Jim handcuffed them. After that, he tied his feet to the bed firmly. The tall man smirked. Immobilizing him always meant that Jim was going to be particularly tough. On Sebastian's opinion, the tougher the sex was, the better.
Jim took one of the knives and made it turn on his hand skillfully, then ripped the sniper's shirt. Sebastian could not repress a shiver when he felt the cold steel brushing his skin.
"You belong to me. Never forget it" the dark haired man whispered, staring at his subordinate's bare chest.
"I won't" Sebastian's voice sounded hoarse, hiding a scarcely contained excitement.
"Good… Anyway, just in case, I'm going to leave a little reminder."
The blond man moaned when the blade went through his skin and the blood begun dripping. It was painful, of course, but beyond the pain he could find a hidden pleasure, a forbidden desire. Most of the pale lines that could be seen on his skin were made by Jim, because Jim enjoyed hurting other people, and Sebastian enjoyed being hurt.
"Some people…" Jim said, focused on the cuts he was making "do this on trees… but I thought it would be more romantic if you could carry it always with you" finally he took the knife away and gazed at his work, clearly proud. "What do you think, Sebby?" Sebastian looked at his chest.
"Nice work, boss…" it was romantic indeed. The letters JM could be read on the left side of his torso, close to the heart.
Sebastian was panting, sweating and willing to fuck Jim so bad. Fortunately, Jim thought it was a good time to release him.
Jim sat on the side of the bed, looking at Sebastian sleeping. He was really tired after one of the longest sessions of his life, but could not sleep. He had so many things to do, to think about, before the end. He had not told Sebastian and wasn't planning on doing it, as he did not want to face the farewell. The present he had given him had been painful enough. Jim had put all his effort on making that night unforgettable, for it was the last they would share.
The criminal stood up and looked through the window. He was feeling pressure on his chest. Jim tried to give a name to that feeling. Fear? No, he didn't fear death. Regret? No, he was utterly sure about what he was going to do. Sorrow? Perhaps. He was sorry about Sebastian. The only thing that bothered Jim was leaving him behind. But he didn't have to die. Someone needed to take his place and the sniper was the person he trusted the most. Maybe he was not as brilliant as him, but who was? At least he was crazy enough.
After writing a note for Sebastian and tying up some loose ends, Jim lay on the bed, curled up against the man and closed his eyes. They had only a few hours left together.
Jim never apologized and never expressed any kind of sentiment. Nevertheless, Sebastian deserved it at least once, because they were made for each other, on an insane and twisted way.
"I love you, Sebby" he whispered to the sleeping man. "And I am sorry."
Sebastian watched it all through his scope. Those were his orders, so he had to even though he didn't want to. Look at me, Jim had said, look how I speak to Sherlock until his pet arrives. Then you aim at him and blow his head if Sherly doesn't jump off the roof. The blond man hadn't any problem with killing John Watson –as a matter of fact, he was willing to do it- but he hated seeing his boss with that other man.
It all happened on a sudden. Jim and the virgin became really close, Sebastian's heart begun beating faster… and then the criminal put the gun on his mouth and pulled the trigger. Sebastian got shocked, breathless for a second, trying to process what he had just seen.
"No. NO!" he cried. That couldn't be happening. Jim hadn't just blown his brains up. It wasn't real. Sebastian was breathing heavily, his hands shaking. And then the blogger arrived. He swallowed hard and forced himself to calm down. Orders. He had orders.
Sebastian aimed at his head, his heart turning into ice as his hands stopped shaking. All his senses were concentrating on John Watson. The pain was too much, so his brain just suppressed it. He forgot about Jim. When the detective jumped and his head crashed into the pavement, he just put away the rifle and walked outside the building, with nothing but a growing void inside him
Jim just couldn't leave any melody unfinished, and time was running out. It was a nice ending for his fairy tale. When he thanked the detective, he was being absolutely sincere. Sherlock was giving him a meaning for his death. A cause to die for. He was going straight to hell, of course, but would drag with him the only man who could rival him.
It was a swift move, but the criminal knew where he was aiming at: the back of his head. It was metaphoric. He was shooting what would eventually kill him. Arteriovenous malformation, the doctor had said. A very rare disease –how could it be any other way. We can't do anything. We don't know how much time is left. Jim could not stand waiting patiently for his death, not with all the plans he had, all the business to finish. When he discovered it, two months ago, he started getting rid of his most important problems. Sherlock was the final one.
What Jim felt worse about was the fact that he could do nothing against it. He was the most dangerous man on earth, capable of anything, and he should have been able to decide when or how to die. Shooting himself was better than letting the disease win.
The last thing that went through Jim's mind was Sebastian. He was watching him. Goodbye, he thought. I'm sorry. I wish I could change this. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to look weak, or even human. I don't want to die yet, but I have to. All the things he would have liked to tell his sniper.
He pulled the trigger. Everything went dark.
Sebastian wandered through the streets of London until the night fell. His chest was filled with dull pain, except for the marks Jim had left behind. His eyes were empty, his sight blurred because of the tears and the alcohol. Everything he had was gone. Without any command, the colonel didn't know where to go.
His steps eventually took him to Saint Bart's rooftop. The police had cordoned off the place, of course, and removed the body. The blood was still there, though. At first he yelled at Jim until his voice grew hoarse. He insulted him, he told him the big dick head he was for leaving him without a farewell or a fucking explanation, and he cursed the man he used to love on every way he knew.
When he wasn't able to scream anymore, he sat on the edge of the roof and mourned silently. He watched the sky being set on fire when the sun begun to rise. He stood up and gazed to the ground.
I could jump. I could jump and end this, and meet him in hell.
Then he heard it. Sebastian heard his sing-song voice right into his ear, giving him the last command.
No you won't.
But. What's the point on going on? You're not here anymore and I don't want to work for any other person. I couldn't.
You are not allowed to do so. You belong to me, remember? You have to finish what I started. We can't leave this world without a worthy villain, can we?
Sebastian had a revelation, immediately knew what to do. He had to go back to the flat, despite how painful it was going to be at that very moment. The wounds on his chest felt as if they were burning.
He found the note on Jim's desk.
Dear Sebby:
I suppose you are now wondering what to do now that I am gone. I've left everything you have to know properly arranged so you won't have to look for it. I suppose you're not on the mood of playing games.
There is a list of people to threaten and/ or kill, another with the achievements you have to reach. You've got all the plans I had on a scrapbook in the shelf and I also left an agenda with all the contacts you will need.
My crown is on our room. Don't disappoint me. Be worthy of it.
See you in hell.
Jim.
The tall man burst out laughing. It was a cracked, maniac, crazy as hell laughter, belonging to a man who had little to lose and was completely devastated.
"Fuck you, Jim."
He crumpled the piece of paper on his fist and flopped into the chair. It was very, very funny. Of course, Jim was able to give him directions even though he was dead. He wouldn't give the sniper a moment for himself, no matter how broken his mind or how shattered his heart was. Fucking smartass, evil genius.
Sebastian knew he would always belong to him, beyond death, come what may.
Forever.