The next night, Jim and Sebastian sat laughing on the couch, sharing a bottle of Jagermeister with countless bottles of beer laying on the coffee table. Seb took a hit of Jager and cringed as the liquid touched his tongue.

"Eugh, Jesus fucking Christ, that shit is disgusting," Seb said as he handed the bottle to Jim. Jim followed suit, taking a shot of the alcohol and shivering with distaste as it washed down his throat.

"Why are we drinking this again?" Jim asked as soon as he regained composure.

"Because it keeps you around and it keeps me here," Seb smiled, then gestured with the bottle to the beers on the table, "Also, we ran out of beer."

"You know I have wine. Or vodka, or whiskey," Jim said, setting the bottle of Jager down, making it at home in a sea of empty beer bottles and the drowned sorrows they carried in the dregs collected at their bottom.

"Yeah, you may, but this was unopened at the back of your liquor cabinet, looking very, very lonely," Seb replied with mocking puppy dog eyes, "It just wanted to be drunk. We couldn't leave it neglected." Jim scoffed and picked up the bottle. "I also haven't drank this since I was a private in the army."

"What could possibly possibly possess you to do something as stupid as that?"

"Join the army or try drinking Jagermeister on only my third time ever drinking?"

"The Jager. But since you mentioned it, why would you join the army? I never saw the point," Jim said, shakily setting down the bottle and preparing himself for what he thought would be a good story.

"Well, I joined the army when I was nineteen. I had spent one year out of high school, trying to find work. I worked on and off at this little Chinese restaurant- horrible food there too, by the way, but the pay wasn't too horrible. My parents were never the best, so I found a way out from under them as soon as I left high school. I lived in this horrible, horrible flat. It truly was disgusting; I'm still sure there were at least a hundred cum stains, but at least it was a place to sleep. But then I was fired from my job, the only minuscule bit of income I had. I couldn't pay the bills, I could barely even eat. It was then when I went to the army. Sure, I would be moved around, sent to war, but at least I would get paid, fed, and have a place to live. It also helps that I always liked hunting, and joining the army to go to war was just like hunting, except instead of deer or bird, it was terrorists."

Jim smiled to hear his sniper talk about his past, though it was sad and told the story of a sad, desperate man. Nonetheless, Jim loved Seb's past, regardless of how depressing it may have been.

"I made it through infantry training with flying colours. Apparently I was meant for combat, according to my drill sergeant. Anyway, I was so good at marksmanship, they sent me straight to training to be a sniper, forgoing the normal wait period. I was one of the only privates to ever train as a sniper, but it wasn't all that fun." Seb's eyes were distant, remembering back to his past- a past he rarely thought about, let alone told people about. "Most of the men there were seven, eight years older than me. They had experience, and I was just this private, fresh in the army, hell, barely out of school. People didn't talk to me, I spent all my nights alone, reading horror novels."

Jim frowned to hear this from Seb. His sniper, all alone in a strange, unforgiving land, it hurt him. He didn't like the idea.

"I may be a loner, Jim," Seb said, looking up into his boss's eyes, "but no one ever wants to be alone like that. I doubt even you would."

"No, Seb, I don't think I would like that."

"Anyway, It was our first day off in months. We could go off the training base for one night, as long as we were back by lights out. I went out, I found a liquor store, I bought it and drank it. I started pretty easy, just beer, maybe some wine, I can't remember. I started then on the harder stuff, whiskey, vodka, rum... Then I found a lovely little bottle of green stomach bile. It was disgusting, but I drank it. I was depressed and so far gone already that I didn't care what it tasted like. I only wanted more alcohol, more alcohol. Drown my sorrows, forget my life," Seb stopped. His eyes were still lost in the past. He tried his hardest since he left training to forget that time. So hard he tried, yet still it remained, buried in the back of his mind, only coming up when he felt depressed again or when he was completely wasted.

"I'm sorry, Seb. That wasn't nearly as amusing as I thought it would be," Jim said, eyes downcast and staring at his hands in his lap.

"No, guess it wasn't," Seb replied. Suddenly he smiled, picked up the bottle, and grabbed the TV remote. He turned it on to some horribly fake and annoying reality show. "But, Jim, the least we could do is drink away our pain while laughing at the miserable lives of others. And that is why reality television was invented."

They spent the rest of the night like that, sitting together on the couch and watching the worst possible trash television they could find. They laughed and they complained. "The world is going to hell," they said, and fuck if it wasn't true. They finished the bottle of Jager, then went to a bottle of wine. Eventually, Jim fell asleep, slumped against Seb's shoulder. Sebastian petted his head, combed his fingers through the strands of hair and savoured the feeling. Maybe he was drunk, but he liked this. Hell, he loved it. He loved being around Jim when he was relaxed and human, not the robot or monster he was on the job. Eventually, he moved his ministrations to Jim's face, brushing lightly at his cheek and the stubble around his jaw, enjoying the slight itch they left on his hand. Seb smiled, alcohol clouding his mind. Normally he wouldn't allow himself to do this, Jim was his boss, goddammit, but the insane amount of alcohol he ingested just would not allow him to stop this train of thought.

He spent a while, just looking at Jim, taking in his every feature. The span of his forehead, wrinkled by a few lines of worry, his eyes, closed now with rest, a position they were rarely found in. The lines around his eyes were faint in rest, but still there, showing evidence of the times Jim smiled, sometimes with happiness, more often with twisted pleasure. Seb's eyes lingered for a moment on the circles underneath Jim's eyes. He brushed them lightly with his thumb. The darkness was disheartening; Jim really did need to relax more often. Seb passed over the under-eye circles and moved down to his lips, the curve of the cupid's bow and the soft plumpness of the lower lip. Seb brought his fingers down and fleetingly touched them to Jim's lips.

Seb smiled fondly down at his boss. Figuring he should probably leave, well, go to sleep in the guest bedroom, considering he was so drunk he could barely stand. He picked Jim up, cradling his head against his shoulder, and stood. He carried Jim to his bedroom, lifted the covers and laid him down. He tucked him in and smiled fondly at the sleeping form. Funny how such a terrifying man when he was awake could look so gentle and unassuming when asleep.

Seb walked out of the room and softly shut the door behind him. He walked to the guest bedroom, where he had, over time, amassed a small collection of sleep wear from the times he had spent the night, mostly from drinking but sometimes he stayed because there was legitimate work to be done. Seb went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats. He removed his shirt and trousers and put on the sweats. He crawled into bed and lied down. He turned on his side and shut his eyes.

With his eyes closed, he thought over the night with his alcohol laden brain. He decided that he really kind of liked his boss. Fuck, he could possibly love him. The two had been great friends for a while now, sometimes Seb thought he was the closest to Jim anyone had ever been. So, while his mind still wouldn't work properly because of the booze, he decided, what the hell? He would take his boss out on a date.