Jim feels like he's waiting for a bus.
Impatient.
Filled with disdain.
Bored, really.
Bored?
Maybe.
But he won't admit that. Boring would be throwing on his best voice of reason and pleaing, begging for Sebastian's release. Which is actually kind of funny, he thinks. If he were to do that he would have to laugh at himself later. But that is simply out of the question. He has developed a theory that even if he were to open his mouth any more, with any sort of plea-bargain, any notion under a simple whisper, the guard next to him would become frightened by his outburst and shoot him upon impulse. Such a funny thought as well, he almost considers it. Merely because he is so bored and so tired of this. He doesn't want to leave Sherlock behind.
Jim sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment- the whiteness of the room is making his head hurt. It's ugly and stupid. He attempts to focus his attention back to Sebastian. He takes a moment to consider if he deserves his attention anymore than he has already provided, considering all the sniper has endured. All for Jim, how sweet.
He's interrupted by Edmunds laughing at Jim's response. Jim is pissed, though. He will admit to that. There is so much more he would rather be doing, things he has to do as well. Tricky prick, Edmund. Taking all he can get.
"I have an idea." Edmund announces, almost with a whine as he begins to stroke himself again. He hums as Sebastian's eyes begin to flicker around the room, as if forgetting he was blind, almost in a panic. The sniper's voice is hoarse, disturbed, yet if he were to even make a sound, his dripping cock would be shocked again and he would more than likely reach his climax, bringing about Jim's death. And what a trigger that is. Sebastian sighs, almost coughing. Everything is very dark...very dark. If Sebastian could describe it, he would probably say, "Dark as fuck-all. Gets all numb and shit."- something cromagnon such as that. He wasn't a moron, he just didn't (or wasn't allowed?) want to appear 'intelligent' around Jim. Granted he was much stupider, he just didn't indulge on his prowess much. All he wanted to do was fuck, and kill, and fuck again and gamble with a stiff drink. He didn't ask for much.
Didn't certainly ask for Edmund's cock probing at his come covered lips either. "Open up, here comes the airplane," the inquisitor cooed, laughing on the end of it. Sebastian's mouth opened wide as Edmund slipped his cock inside, brushing it over Sebastian's tongue, thrusting his hips forward as he played with the idea of shoving it in his throat. He played it slow, at first, a mantra of ill-willed praises as Sebastian struggled to breathe heavily through his nose, shutting his eyes.
"No, no, open those pretty eyes up for me. You might be blind but I want to make it seem like you're actually trying." Edmund's breath hitched as he pulled his cock from Sebastian's mouth, precome trailing behind it, Sebastian's mouth slack-jawed, exhaling roughly as Edmund placed it back inside. "You've already done this once today that I'm aware of, I figured you'd be a little more compliant." Edmund grunted, pushing deeper and harder into his throat and mouth.
"In fact," he stops. Freezing. Pausing for a moment, the only sound being the hum of the flourescent lights above. "Why don't you suck on it a bit for daddy." (Jim cringed again. Despite his inability or willingness to make any notion to end this farce, he was still enraged by his property being played against him.) Sebastian exhaled, spraying blood from his nose at the gag in his mouth, a heavy heated weight. "Pretend I'm Jim, shouldn't be that hard. God knows you probably have been this whole time. Funny thing you letting your master treat you in such a way. You shouldn't be too deathly surprised."
He took the moment to grip his hair tightly with one hand, the gun in his other pressing tightly against his darkened eyesocket. "Come on, get those lips working. I know you can. Jim probably wouldn't have kept you around for as long as he has if you couldn't." With his dead eyes, Sebastian looks up. He cannot see Edmund, but in order to make this trial and this torture and this hell worth while he has to do something. Edmund grins, knowing Sebastian can't see him, but the effort is worth while as Sebastian moves to bob his head along Edmund's dick, dragging his tongue along the underside. He sighs, moaning into the organ causing Edmund to let out a noise of approval, reveling in the filthy noises coming from Sebastian's occupied lips. He grips Sebastian's hair tightly, beginning to thrust forward again. "Jesus-" he removes his cock from Sebastian's mouth again, wiping it along his face as Sebastian coughs, taken off guard as Edmund takes the safety off the gun, practically jabbing it into his eye as he comes, coating Sebastian's face and tongue and mouth. Edmund chuckles. "Yes, yes, that's a good boy."
He drops Sebastian from his hand, the heavy mass hitting the floor, jaw first. You can hear the crack of his teeth crashing together, him spitting out the broken pieces, hissing.
"Very good!" Edmund said putting himself back into his pants, venturing to Sebastian's backside to finally remove the filthy rod from his arse. He does it slowly, Sebastian unable to help but cry out in horror. It doesn't matter, Edmund has long forgotten the nodes on his cock. It doesn't matter anyway, Sebastian isn't even hard anymore; they clattered onto the floor while Edmund was fucking his face. Edmund whistles, impressed, Sebastian's arse a gaping, bleeding hole now. "That's gonna be a bitch for a while." He tosses the rod to the side, carelessly. Sighing, he begins to speak again, dragging a finger from a trail of blood along Sebastian's thigh up the small of his back and along his ribs.
"Alright, Jim, I'm running out of ideas." He pushes his glasses up. "I don't know what else is gonna convince you." He shrugs. "So I've come up with a deal. You know, the idea I've mentioned earlier."
Finally breaking his silence, as he has grown quite tired of sitting in stoicism, Jim speaks. "And what could you even possibly do at this point to convince me now?" He adjusts his seating, the leather of the chair making sound in the large room, only accompanied by Sebastian's wheezing, his struggle to breathe.
"And so the madman speaks!" Edmund laughs at the irony. "Now, now, just hear me out." he raises his bloodied hands pleadingly. "I haven't changed my mind, you can begin to provide me a portion of your profits, something we can negotiate on because I know fifty-percent is a lot. But, you'll also provide me any weaponary, any technology you develop, and any terms with police, government and treaties at my discretion, which, of course I will purchase from you at a price I think would be worth my while."
"So in essence you'll be giving my money back to me." Jim chuckles. "Seems backwards."
"Yes, that is the point, that is why I think it would be beneficial to you. Not only would it be financially crucial, but I will also be providing my own services of crime on my end of the spectrum to accompany yours. A team, perhaps." he almost laughs at the thought.
Jim does.
How on this wretched Earth could Edmund possibly think that Jim would provide his services to someone else in any kind of collusion. It was barbaric and stupid and absolutely childish. If this prat is just that boring, then he certainly doesn't deserve Jim's attention whatsoever at this point.
"You do realize I am serious." Edmund almost...falters.
"Yes, I do, that's what makes it so funny."
"Listen you second grade theif-terrorist-"
"Second grade! That's cute." Laughing again, Jim doesn't notice the guard to his left bring the barrel of his rifle to the side of his head, almost waving it away when he does.
As if it were second nature.
Sebastian almost grins at Jim's banter.
Edmund sighs, crossing his arm, and tapping his foot.
"Okay, Jim, Jim, this is my final offer."
"I'm listening."
"I'm going to kill Sebastian." a pause, an unsteady silence.
It's almost as if the tension in the room increases ten-fold. "And you can leave, do whatever you want. I don't care. We can both continue to live under the radar, you can continue your little board game with Sherlock, I don't give a shit." he swallows thickly. "I won't disrupt the spectrum that has been invented by you; but Moran will die."
Another pause, as lengthy as time could possibly consume in this tiny room accompanied by this stone wall labyrinth with the two large stone pillars and the flourescent lights.
"But," Edmund begins again, suddenly not fucking around anymore, suddenly not smiling, not playing. "If you decide to work with me under the terms I have laid out for you, then you both can go, and I'll give you a call in the morning."
The air seems to disappear, and Jim seems to go quiet just as he formerly was. Just as if there was no air left to breathe. The construct has been built and formed to Edmund's games, to Edmund's disturbed pleasure, and Jim is at the door accompanied by his pride and his pride alone to fight with him to end this.