"Seb, please?"
"No, Jim, it's two in the morning and we have school in five hours." Sebastian retorted, rolling his eyes. Jim scoffed.
"I'm sorry not all of us can function on 30 minutes of sleep each day," Sebastian added, sighing. His parents were out cold, and he knew from experience only could be woken by a volcanic eruption, and definitely not the sounds of the random movie Jim had picked out of the cabinet in the corner.
"What did you even pick?" Sebastian inquired.
"Oh, just some American slasher movie." Sebastian was quiet for a moment.
"So you're staying the night, then?" He asked.
"No, I'm just on my way out," Jim drawled sarcastically. Sebastian didn't say a word. That was the fourth time this week that.
"Please, Seb?" lilted a surprisingly small voice. Sebastian took a moment, weighing his options. A movie might put them both to sleep, and the one Jim had picked out was particularly mentally scarring. Sebastian did like the thought of a terrified Jim clinging to him.
"Alright. Just let me get changed," Sebastian agreed. Jim looked at him. They were both dressed in their school uniforms. Jim had loosened his tie while Sebastian had thrown it off, and they both had thrown their blazers in a crumpled heap and rolled up their shirtsleeves. Jim claimed to abhor the uniforms, but Sebastian suspected that it secretly pleased the kid to see them both looking so sharp.
Sebastian padded upstairs and quickly disrobed, throwing on a holey Black Sabbath t-shirt and sweats. He stopped in the bathroom to take a piss and brush his teeth before heading back downstairs.
"Alright, Jim, let me - " Jim turned to look at him. Sebastian blinked.
"Jim, is that my fucking shirt?"
"Oh course, Sebby, I don't have any clothes here." His voice was dripping with innocence. Sebastian had to admit, the usually menacing kid looked pretty freaking cuddly in boxers and his Bee Gees tee (why did he still even have that shirt? Sebastian had never really listened to them. When had Jim found the time to dig it out of his drawer?)
"Alright. Lemme see whatever the hell it is you pulled." Jim tossed the disc at Sebastian, who caught it and stuck it in the player. He dimmed the lights and hit play before curling up on the couch. Jim stretched, arching his back like a cat, and fell onto his side, putting his head right on Sebastian's lap. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably.
"Jim?" Sebastian prodded, wanting to point out that the couch was L-shaped and more than big enough for the both of them.
"Mh, hmm?" Jim murmured.
"Nothing, babe." Maybe this wasn't the worst thing in the world. It certainly ranked above asking Jim to move and missing the warmth of the kid.
The screen lit up, and the opening credits rolled. Images of rumpled diary pages filled the screen, and the word Se7en flashed across the screen. Jim yawned sleepily. If he falls asleep, Sebastian thought, I'm turning this shit off.
Thirty minutes into the movie, Jim shifted his head, and Sebastian almost jumped out of his skin.
Halfway through, Sebastian had started to nervously run his fingers through Jim's hair as a distraction. When the next body was found, he almost ripped out a chunk. He didn't miss Jim's grin of satisfaction.
In the last few minutes of the movie, Sebastian had guessed what was in the box. He still grabbed Jim's arm when he saw it, his knuckles whitening.
"Sebby, that hurts," the teenager whined. The hand loosened, leaving half-moon scars on Jim's pale arm. Sebastian looked down at his with eyes the size of saucers.
"Don't you ever fucking turn out like that, okay, you little psychopath?" Sebastian demanded. The way he said 'psychopath' made the word more like a term of endearment than a mental disorder.
"Seb, don't be obvious," Jim insisted, "I'd never be so sloppy. I'd get someone else to do the dirty work." Sebastian groaned.
"Someone like me?" he asked.
"Hmm... maybe. It depends."
Sebastian wasn't sure whether or not he liked that answer.
"I didn't like that ending at all," Sebastian criticized. "Why would he turn himself in at the end? Just to toy with that stupid little detective? I'll never understand Americans."
"You missed the point of the entire movie," Jim contended. "What's the fun of the game if you can't play?"
"Alright, ya git," Sebastian jeered, "just promise me you'd never do anything so...obvious."
"Alright, tiger."
"I can sleep on the floor," Sebastian offered. At this point, he was just going through the motions. Jim glared at him.
"Alright," Sebastian sighed. He climbed under the sheets, and felt Jim wiggle next to him. Sebastian thought of the the second death in the movie, the one where the man was chained to his bed and just barely kept alive for over a year. Jim snuggled up next to him, and Seb gripped him a little bit tighter. His thoughts wandered over to that damn movie again, and he ran his fingers though the short dark hair of Jim's head.
"I'm not going to end up like that psycho," Jim mumbled.
"But - " Sebastian protested.
"I have you, tiger." Sebastian relaxed minisculely and buried his nose in Jim's hair. He was still uneasy.
"You planned this, didn't you? So that I'd - " Sebastian mused.
"Yes. Now hush. As you pointed out, there's only an hour before we have to get up again."
"We could just play hooky, like you do every week." He felt Jim smile against his side, and Jim threw an arm possessively around his torso.
"You totally planned this."