Hot thoughts melt in my mind
Could be your accent mixing with mine
You got me uptight, twisting inside
Hot thoughts all in my mind and all of the time, babe
- Spoon - Hot Thoughts -
He struggled slowly into consciousness. It took him a few times to actually get his eyes open: the first few attempts he drifted back to sleep before he could manage it, like a device with critically low battery that kept dying halfway through the boot cycle.
Finally, however, he managed it. He was in a dimly lit room, shackled to a chair with what felt like thick iron cuffs. Not something he could break or slip out of. Great. The room itself was bereft of furnishings, and there was a solid door at the far side of the room, though at the moment it was open slightly.
She burst through the door no less than seven minutes later, gun out. She scanned the room for threats before she let her gaze drop onto him, then she was tucking the gun into the back of her jeans and trotting forward. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, crouching in front of him, checking how he was held to the chair. "Shit. Shoulda brought my lockpicking kit."
"Fine. How did you find me?" he asked, looking around. "How long have I been out?" He tugged on the cuffs. "See if you can find a bolt cutter or a crowbar or something..."
"I don't know. I got a text message maybe half an hour ago, with a picture of you here, and the address," she shook her head, standing, and beginning to look around the room. It was mostly empty. "Worst comes to worse, I suppose I could try and shoot the the chain. Get you out of the cuffs back at home."
He shook his head a little. "Try to find a lever first. If that ricochets it could easily hit one of us. Especially me."
"Yeah, you're right," she agreed reluctantly, stepping back a little, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Or you could use the key," came a familiar Irish voice from the doorway. She turned, and scowled.
"Jim..." Moran said, almost sounding relieved for a moment before he thought to question why in hell the boss had the key.
"Or you could leave him there. I quite like seeing him all tied up," Jim drawled, walking forward, smirking.
"Jesus, Boss, did you do this? Scared the shit out of me," she sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. "Can I have the key, then?"
"I don't know, Harrison, can you?" he challenged, raising his eyebrows at her. His smirk spread into a grin. "Sorry for the tranquilizer, Moran. I didn't know how else to bring us all together."
"Seeing as I can level most of our men, I suppose I can understand that, though I do also respond to text messages..." he grunted, tugging at his wrists.
"I figured you and I could have some fun, Harrison. You seemed to object to my not sharing, I thought I'd extend... an olive branch. For Moran's sake."
She hesitated for a minute, wondering what the hell to do. She looked down at Sebastian, eyebrows raising. What did he think of this?
Moran caught her gaze and shrugged just a little, though his ears were just slightly red, mostly due to below-the-waist reactions he had no hope of hiding at the moment.
She thought that was about as flustered as she'd seen him, ever. And, considering the slight flush beginning on his ears, it was probably a good thing. He wasn't protesting. "Good enough for me," she smirked, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp.
"Good. I do love a good game," Jim grinned, licking his lips.
He closed his eyes when her hand when into his hair, swallowing hard and taking a quick breath.
Jim walked out of the room for a moment and returned carrying a box, which he set down. He pulled out a knife and walked over, starting to cut away Moran's clothes.
Seb's eyes flew open at the brush of a knife against his skin, but he saw the reason and relaxed just a hair, eyes flickering to Harrison to make sure she was really alright with this.
She could see the question in his eyes, and she gave him a reassuring smile, tugging at his hair just a little, playfully. As long as he was okay with it, she was alright. She'd done crazier things. As long as they shared, that was okay. She could do that. "So what's the plan, boss?"
He grinned. "You're telling me you've never imagined having Sebastian Moran at your mercy, shackled to a chair? I'm interested to see what your mind can come up with." He tossed the remains of Moran's shirt aside and started on his trousers.
"I think everyone in this room knows I'm usually imagining me shackled to a chair," she muttered, standing aside a little so Jim had room to work, instead leaning down by Sebastian's side to nip the shell of his ear ever so gently. "But god knows I'm not going to argue."
Jim laughed, balling up the remains of Moran's trousers and lobbing them over his shoulder. "I'll kidnap you the next time."
"That I could get behind," Moran leered cockily, apparently having regrouped.
"I imagine so, though it doesn't seem like you're having too much trouble getting behind this," Jim retorted, tapping the side of his knife on Moran's prominent erection. Seb stiffened, in more ways than one, and swallowed slightly, nodding.
"Fair point, boss..."
"Boss?"
"Sir."
There was something beautiful in watching him swallow, the lines of his throat standing out ever-so-more clearly, the implications of the thoughts going through his head - it was one of the many small idiosyncrasies that she assigned only to him. Watching him was like watching art in motion. She wondered how Jim felt when he looked at Sebastian.
Jim was busy taking off his tie to loosen his collar; he briefly thought about blindfolding the sniper, but then decided that vision was far too important to the man to be removed for this encounter. Watching the jealousy in his eyes when he got around to stripping Harrison, watching the arousal bloom there - those were both fun bonuses to let those clear blue eyes see anything they wanted to.
Moran shifted in the chair, tugging on his restraints slightly, though he knew it was useless. He bit into his bottom lip just a little as Jim removed his tie. He wanted to touch, to pin the other man to the wall, to rid Lorna of her far-too-many layers... But he was at their mercy, and there was something distractingly compelling about that.
"Bored," he taunted in a clear imitation of Jim's usual drawl. "Am I just going to sit here all night or are we getting somewh-"
He cut off as Jim flicked the knife across his cheekbone, and he could feel hot blood welling up and trickling down from the sting.
It was the first time he'd really bled since his Words, and the sudden rush was like a whiff of alcohol to a recovering addict. His pupils widened and he took a slow breath.
Concern and lust were the two immediate emotions she reacted with, concern for it being his blood, lust for it being on him. She practically fell into his lap to kiss him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other grabbing his jaw, her thumb pressing into his cheek just below the gash. Jim laughed, again, and she felt him pull off her belt, reaching around her waist to work the buckle free, his knuckles brushing Sebastian's skin before he was gone again, dropping the leather at his feet. Maybe he'd want it later.
"I almost forgot how much the two of you adore seeing the other covered in blood," he smirked, starting to pull off Harrison's jacket, forcing her to bend her arms back for a second. "What an advantage that gives me."
"Is this a competition?" Lorna chuckled, drawing away from Moran's lips for a moment.
"When is it not?"
Moran was incredibly grateful that she landed in his lap, because it gave him someone to grind up against. He groaned as he kissed her, trying to get his teeth into her lips, but she pulled away and he let out a huff of frustration.
She was being undressed, however, and he could appreciate that.
"Am I going to be the only one bleeding in this particular encounter?"
"No, I think not," Jim smirked. "Would you like to see her bleed?"
Suddenly he gripped Lorna's hair, pulling her head back and setting the knife against her upper arm. "Do you want to see her bleed, Sebastian?"
He took a slow breath, swallowing again and glancing at Lorna.
"Beg me, Sebastian."
She was breathing a little bit harder from excitement, eyes wide and dark on his, her lips parted but silent. If she said anything, she got the feeling she wouldn't be playing by the rules. It was up to Sebastian whether or not she bled. She could, however, rock down on him a little, even with Jim's grip in her hair. That grip tightened as he saw her move.
"Did I say you could move, Harrison?"
She swallowed, giving an infinitesimal shake of her head. "No."
"I thought not. Sebastian; I believe you had something to tell me?"
He took a breath through his nose, but Lorna's movements clued him in and he managed "Yes, Sir..."
"What was that?" Jim asked, lowering the knife slightly.
He was quiet for a moment, stubborn, but Jim started to drop the knife and he rallied quickly.
"Please, Jim, I want to see her bleed..." he finally said, shifting his hips again.
Jim smiled and returned the knife to Lorna's arm, pressing it down slowly until blood welled up beneath the blade.
She hissed at the pain but was quickly distracted by Jim's hand in her hair shifting to the back of her neck, his thumb working into the base of her skull, convincing the tight muscle there to relax. She could feel his smug smirk as she melted into Sebastian's lap. Then his hand was gone and the knife slit up the side of her t-shirt, tearing it off.
If he leaned forward, he could press his lips to her skin, get a taste of the bitter blood rolling down her arm, stain his teeth with it. Her shirt fell away and he grinned up at Jim, a feral smile. "That's two of us down. Mostly, anyway," he grinned. "You still have far too many layers."
"Oh, are you in command now, Seb darling?" Jim smirked, walking around to grab Moran's hair and yank his head back, the knife coming to rest point down on the dip of his collarbone. He froze, breaths shallow so as not to disrupt the blade.
"No sir," he finally put out, voice a bit strained.
"I thought not," Jim drawled, removing the knife and his hand from Moran's hair to tuck the blade under his arm and start to unbutton his shirt. Lorna smirked, biting down on Sebastian's other collar bone, grinding down on him with the quietest of moans. Jim tsked, and a second later she was being hauled off Sebastian, pulled back against the criminal mastermind. "Now, now, we don't want to give him too much satisfaction yet, do we?"
Sebastian let out a groan of protest, his hips lifting to grind against air. His eyes scanned Jim's bared chest, and he couldn't help the flash of pride that his initials on Jim's chest- the scars healed now but still pale- brought.
"No, no, wouldn't want to do that. Got to string it out," he smirked, tilting his head back with a sigh.
Jim unclasped Harrison's bra and let it fall, his palm sliding over her breast as he leaned forward to bite the back of her ear gently. "Let's wipe that smirk off of his face, shall we?"
"Sounds like a plan," she hummed, arching back into him, rubbing back against his hard-on with a finesse that had taken her a long time to cultivate. He didn't make a sound, just grasped her hip to pull her back against him harder, head dropping to scrape his teeth across the bare skin of her shoulder. His eyes, however, were glued to Sebastian, a predatory glint to them.
He held Jim's gaze, eyes dark, nostrils flared slightly, possessiveness rising in his chest to choke him. Jim sank his teeth deeper and he took a slow breath, watching as Harrison ground back against him, his cock dying for the same attention. "Fuck... Jim..."
"You're going to have to tell us what you want, Sebastian," Jim grinned, hand sliding from Lorna's waist to slip his fingers under the waistband of her trousers to press against her heat, drawing a moan from her. "You have words. Use them."
"I want to fuck you," he dared, eyes fixed now on Jim's hand, his own fingers curling sympathetically. "Or if not that, you to fuck me. Or cut me. Hell, carve me up, I don't care, do something... " he groaned, straining against his bonds again, the edge of the shackle cutting against his wrist.
"Did you hear that, Harrison?" he laughed, his free hand moving up to grip her throat. "He wants me to do something. Adorable. Well, do you think we should take pity on him?"
She tried to answer, but all that came out was a moan as he pressed two fingers slowly into her, driving all the thought from her brain. "Up- up to you, sir," she groaned.
His eyes flicked up to her face as she moaned, and he swallowed a whimper, grinding his hips forward, trying to get some friction- any friction- against his pants. It did nothing.
"Harrison... I want to fuck you. Fuck you with my tongue, taste deep inside of you, bring you over... Just come on..." he murmured, changing tactics.
Jim withdrew his fingers from her as she leaned forward, though he tightened his grip on her throat for just a moment before he let her go. She took one step towards Sebastian, heart hammering in her chest, before he grabbed her again, spinning her around and pushing her down onto Moran's lap, and then he laughed, looking down at the two of them. "Look at the two of you. Polar opposites, almost. You dwarf her, Sebastian," he laughed, shaking his head and falling to his knees in front of the two of them, in between their legs, he pulled Lorna down enough to kiss her with a lot of teeth, his other hand sliding up Sebastian's thigh.
Sebastian groaned in pain and relief as Lorna tumbled into his lap, grinding up against her. "She is a bit tiny, yeah," he agreed with a grin, leaning forward enough to bite into her neck as Jim kissed her, teeth breaking skin easily. He spread his legs further as Jim's hand slid up.
She gasped, a hand going back to curl into his hair, get a measure of some control over him, even though he was very literally shackled to the chair, and shifted back further on him so when he ground up she benefited too - and she needed to benefit from it, somehow.
He grunted and pulled happily against her grip in his hair, his hip bucking up against hers as she shifted back. Jim's hand slid inside of his pants, fingers brushing along the bottom of his cock, and he bit down harder on Harrison's neck as he groaned. Jim smirked. "Get a little control, Moran," he tsked as he pulled away from Lorna for a breath.
"I don't know, I'm not complaining," she breathed. Hell, she was about ready to unlock those shackles of his. "I like him all wound up."
"Mmm... I've noticed," he smirked as Moran pulled away, leaving the clear line of his teeth in her neck, his lips stained red. "You look a bit... pent up, Harrison. Why don't you give him something to think about?"
"I'm too 'pent up' to get what you mean without clear direction," she chuckled breathlessly, near shaking from the effect of being caught between them.
"Fuck him, Harrison," he said, bending to run his tongue along the inside of her leg. "But first... let's make sure he doesn't lose interest too quickly, alright?" he grinned, opening his palm to show her, and only her, a silver ring about the size of a half dollar.
"Jesus Christ," she huffed, pupils darkening almost instantly, before her eyes flicked up to him again. "You really are an evil genius, I hope you know."
"Of course I know," he snorted, looping his fingers into her waistband and tugging off her shorts and pants in one go, the ring tucked back into his palm to hide it from Sebastian. It was only after he'd tossed her clothes towards a corner that he gave her a smirk and an imperceptible nod.
"What? What are you two talking about?" Sebastian asked, shifting slightly to try and see, a hint of nervous excitement appearing deep down. He smiled as the remainder of Harrison's clothing disappeared, rutting his hips upward again only to stop as Jim grabbed his balls and squeezed a warning. He stopped. "Take it I'm not supposed to do that?" he asked, voice a bit tense.
"Not yet," was all he said, passing the silver ring to Lorna, letting Sebastian get the barest glint before it disappeared again into her hand, and then he leaned up and around her to kiss the sniper hard, distraction his aim. Lorna twisted, grinning to herself, and slid the ring all the way down to the base of Sebastian's cock.
"Surprise."
He felt the thing slide into place and let out a half-betrayed, half-aroused groan against Jim's mouth, pulling away a moment later. "You motherfuckers," he breathed, letting out a huff of frustration and wiggling his hips just slightly. "God fucking dammit..."
"You'll thank me later," Jim smirked, scraping blunt nails down his arm. "Harrison, if you would..."
"Way ahead of you, sir," she hummed, having gotten off him and back on in almost a second, straddling his waist and facing him this time, a hand helping to get the position right before she slowly sank onto him, a long, ragged groan falling from her lips.
"Will I now," he shot back, but his eyes were on Harrison as she turned around, and he gave a victorious grin as her breasts came in range, leaning forward and running his tongue over them, letting out a whimpering groan of relief as she finally slid onto him, rolling his hips up against hers, desperate for more.
She slid a hand into his hair, a harsh breath leaving her, relieved to finally be getting some friction, her other hand scraping nails down his chest. Her eyes slipped over to Jim, so dark they were nearly glazed. "You going to take off some of those layers, or do you just wanna watch?"
Jim's eyes were fixed on them, on the way Moran was greedily running teeth and tongue over Harrison's chest, arms twisted back behind the chair, red stains smeared across his skin. On the way Harrison looked at him, the way her hips swayed and rolled over Moran's, lips parted slightly.
He didn't answer, just began undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Moran groaned against Lorna's skin, starting to move his hips a little more needily, hands straining at the shackles. "Faster, Lorna," he groaned.
She kissed a line up his throat, yanking his head back as she tightened her grip on his hair. Her teeth tugged on his earlobe. "Make me," she whispered, with a smirk, her eyes on Jim from where he was standing a few feet away.
His breath was starting to come in shorter gasps, and he increased the pace of his own hips, struggling to find a way to lever her to move faster. "Lorna..."
Jim had removed his shirt fully and now removed his footwear before stepping out of his pants and trousers. As soon as he was free of them he walked forward, his own erection dark and prominent, and circled Sebastian and Lorna, before kneeling again and, after a moment's calculation, sliding a finger into Lorna alongside Seb's cock, pressing and curling.
"Fucking hell, Jim," she gasped, back arching, body struggling to get used to the strangely pleasurable sensation, her hips stuttering on Sebastian's. She had no idea what Jim's plan was, but she knew that asking would be pointless, so she dropped her forehead onto Sebastian's shoulder and decided to literally ride it out, and see where it went.
Sebastian let out a low string of curses at the added sensation against his cock, his hip movements falling out of rhythm for a moment before he managed to get it back.
Jim worked with that finger for a few moments, before moving onto the next, and the next, until the fingers of that hand were slicked with their fluids. Then, without further delay, he pressed his first finger into Sebastian's puckered hole.
Moran cried out, bucking upwards in the chair in surprise, his head tilting back, chest heaving.
Lorna cried out too as he suddenly bucked upwards, her breath coming in gasps on Sebastian's collarbone. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened. "Breathe, Moran," she reminded.
He nodded just a little, panting for breath. He was getting close to coming, or at least he normally would be, but though the burning heat was rolling up through his body with ever-increasing ferocity, there was no feeling of the edge approaching, and he knew there wouldn't be. He picked up a rhythm, driving up into Lorna and then down against Jim's increasing fingers, eyes wide open and black.
Jim curled and turned his fingers inside of Sebastian, his other hand wrapping around Lorna's waist and finding her clit, starting to rub gently but firmly.
That pushed her right over the edge, a broken swear leaving her mouth, fire roaring up her spine in a heady rush, and as she came down again it was all she could do to cling onto him, half-melted and sensitive as hell, her nails dragging furrows down his back. Jim blessedly gave her a break, though judging by the sounds Sebastian was making, he was busy with other things.
She came and it was blinding, overwhelming sensation, his vision whiting out for a moment, and he cried out with her, but he couldn't come. It was almost painful, though it faded back just a little when Lorna relaxed.
"Fuck, Jim... I n-need to come," he groaned, voice cracking slightly as Jim pushed another finger into him. Jim laughed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Tiger. We've barely started. Are you still with us, Harrison? Or have I vastly underestimated your endurance?"
Vastly was a little too needling to give up on. "I'm fine, just give me a second," she said just a little sharply, and rolled her hips down onto Sebastian once to prove it. She let out a ragged moan, just on the borderline of too-sensitive, too much.
"Watch your tone," Jim replied, intense eyes on her for a moment, before flashing back to Moran, watching the expressions fly by on his face.
"Jim... please," he panted, biting into his lip as Harrison ground down on him again. Jim stood, removing his fingers and wiping them off on Moran's discarded boxers, before reaching out to shift Harrison off of Moran's lap. He paused with her in his arms, holding her close for a moment, grinding his cock against her arse with a soft groan of pleasure, eyes fixed on Moran. Then he spoke.
"Should we uncuff him?"
"Yes," she said immediately, rubbing back against Jim, though her eyes were glued to Sebastian. As much fun as this was, she missed his hands on her, missed the way his grip tightened on her when he was close, missed the feeling of knowing there would be marks in the shapes of his fingers in the morning. "Yes, please," she amended all in one huff of a breath, fingers tight on the arm around her waist. His chuckle rumbled through her back.
"The key is taped under his chair. Have at it."
Sebastian let out a sigh of relief, broad shoulders rolling at the thought of freedom.
"Oh, and Sebastian... remove that cockring without my permission and I will be very displeased," Jim warned, eyes flashing slightly as he released Harrison.
"Yessir..."
She immediately stepped forward and knelt by the side of the chair, reaching underneath and ripping the key off from the underside. She took two more seconds unlocking both of his shackles, but then it was done. Thank god.
He shifted his stiff arms forward slowly, wincing as his shoulders and elbows protested the movement. His wrists and the insides of his arm were chafed and raw from rubbing against the shackles and the chair respectively, but the sting was hardly noticeable against the magma of arousal rolling through him. He stood, and immediately turned to pick Lorna up, backing her up against the wall to snog her solidly, wanting to regain a little control of the situation.
She barely noticed the huff of air that left her chest at the impact, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, kissing him back with just a hint of a challenge. Jim was there a moment later, pressing against Sebastian's back, leaving a bite mark on his shoulder.
He kissed her back solidly, tongue pressing into her mouth. Jim ground up against him, and he could feel the brush of Jim's length against his arse before the smaller man shoved a foot between his legs, spreading them side to side, and he complied. Jim's cock pressed against his entrance and he quickly withdrew his tongue lest he bite down on it.
Jim smirked, watching as the muscles in Sebastian's neck tensed as he pushed unceremoniously into him.
Sebastian grit his teeth, breathing sharply and pressing his face into Lorna's shoulder.
She thought for a second that he was going to drop her, but as he pressed further into her, pinning her harder against the wall, the concern left her mind, instead going to what she could do to make Jim's rather rough entrance into the party a little easier for him. She smoothed a hand over the back of his neck, her lips skimming over his uninjured cheek, one moment of tenderness in this crazy endeavor.
The touch was so disparagement from everything else that it stood out above all the more demanding sensations. She helped him focus and he took a slow breath, forcing himself to relax as Jim started to move. He groaned softly, so painfully hard now it was almost completely distracting. He reached down to shift Lorna's legs around his waist until his cock rubbed against her heat and let out a relieved, shaking groan.
Jim noticed what passed between them, but decided to ignore it, starting to pick up the pace a little, the groan traveling through Moran and into his cock in a way that made his grip on Moran's shoulder just a little tighter, a breath coming from between his teeth. Lorna made a quiet sound as he ground into her, the hand tightening in his hair again. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she demanded, rolling her hips into him. "Fuck me."
He tried to respond, but all that came out was a moan and he gave up, shifting his hips as best he could without disrupting Jim's rhythm and pushing himself into her. He took a moment to work out how this was going to go, before he started moving, shoving his arse back into Jim as the man thrust, and pushing in turn into Lorna on the downswing.
He'd been right, all that time ago. Fucking Jim (or, in this case, with Jim) was, in a word, intense. She no longer bothered with finesse, or movement, just clutched onto him and took what he gave her, her entire world centered around the burning pleasure surging through her.
He was quickly losing what small portion of control he still had, his body shaking as he got more and more wound up, the heat within him coiling and flaring, cock aching as he rutted into Lorna and back against Jim desperately. The sensations he was experiencing were beyond intense. In any other circumstance he would have come ages ago, and it was driving him spare, his body shaking with the built up energy and desire.
Jim was so close he was hanging by a thread, his breath coming harsher, his thrusts faltering in their rhythm, all his pent-up energy starting to catch up all at once. Lorna was nearly as close as Jim was, still over-sensitized, a high-pitched gasp leaving her every time Sebastian got just a little bit deeper than normal.
Jim suddenly altered the angle of his hips, and the head of his cock brushed against Moran's prostate. Seb let out a strangled sort of keen, his hips powering forward into Lorna's with sudden force, pelvis grinding against hers. His hands scrabbled at her shoulders, nails leaving red furrows in her skin, before one hand reached back to latch onto Jim's arse with a frantic sort of desperation. His whole focus was on one thing now- he needed to keep moving, keep feeling, needed to come or he was positive he was going to spontaneously combust.
Jim didn't last much longer past that, sparks bursting behind his eyes at Moran's visceral reaction, tightening around him until it was literally impossible to hold himself back anymore, and he came with a shout, ramming himself a final time as deep into the other man as he could go. "Make her come, and then you can take the ring off," Jim panted against his shoulder, voice still a little strained.
Lorna was fairly certain that wasn't going to take much at all - she was slowly tipping over the edge again herself.
It took him a moment to fully register Jim's voice, but when he did he began working against Harrison with renewed concentration, a hand slipping between them to rub against her clit. He was letting out continual moans and grunts, body covered in a light sheen of sweat that made his scars almost glow in the dim light.
She came with a gasp, arching off the wall, heat flooding her system, white-hot.
Jim smirked against Moran's shoulder, still a little breathless. "You're free, Tiger."
He cried out, too, as she came around him, and pulled out of her, lowering her to the ground as quickly as he could manage, hands scrambling to his cock to remove the ring. It wasn't even fully off before he was coming, his knees buckling with the strength of it as he cried out, a shaking hand finding the wall to keep himself from hitting the ground completely.
She kept herself up with the wall as he finally got his release, watching his face, watching him tremble, watching a drop of blood roll down his cheek and drip off his jaw and onto his chest, rolling over the JM that stood out from the rest of the words.
Finally even the wall wasn't enough, and he sank to the ground, exhausted, covered in blood and sweat and cum. "Jesus fucking Christ ..." he finally managed when he got his breath back, still dazed.
Jim smirked and crouched down in front of him, reaching out to swipe up the trickle of blood over his mark with a finger and suck on it gently. "Told you you'd thank me later," he sneered.
For the first time since this.. encounter had begun, she felt a pang of jealousy. Sebastian's blood wasn't his to take, and mopping it off his initials was just insulting. She stopped herself before she said anything - what was she thinking? Of course it's his to take, you absolute moron! He owns him, just like he owns you. Stop this. She sighed. "I don't suppose you packed another set of clothes for him? We're not exactly home."
"There's a room with a shower and changes of clothes for you both down the hall. I'll be showering first, however, so wait five minutes. It will probably be that long before he's fully conscious, anyway," he said, standing. Sebastian just flipped him off casually. Jim smirked.
She chuckled blearily, stepping over Sebastian to go sit in his chair, deciding that she didn't know what else was on that floor, and she wasn't certain where her pants were. She had to hand it to Jim for at least being considerate enough to not just strand them out here. Before she could even think about thanking him he was gone, disappearing out the door. Her eyes wandered back to Moran. "You doin' okay, there?"
"Mmmmph..." he groaned, sliding a bit further down onto the floor. "M'fucking exhausted... "
"I don't blame you," she snorted, leaning her head back with a huff. "Shit. I was worried you were being tortured or something."
"I wasn't?" he retorted with a snort, sitting up slowly with a slight groan as his muscles protested.
"You didn't look like you were complaining," she chuckled, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry, if it was too much, though."
"Far from it," he sighed, stretching for his toes with a wince, his arse a bit raw and sore. "Christ, I have never wanted to come so much in my fucking life. "
"I'm a little relieved I don't have a cock, to be honest. Nothing can keep me trapped on the edge like that," she shook her head, smirking. "Think you can walk down the hall?"
"Has it been five minutes?" he grunted as he worked his way to his feet, mostly steady.
"Meh, nearabouts. I figured it might take you a couple to get up properly, anyway," she smirked, getting out of the chair almost as slowly as him - she was still pretty sensitive.
"Hilarious," he muttered, wincing a bit as he finally straightened. Jim had been less than gentle.
"I'm the funniest person you know," she hummed, giving him a cheeky grin and holding the door open for him. "C'mon, when we get home I'll pamper you. Lots of drinking, maybe me in a pair of tight jeans, who knows."
"Sounds amazing," he groaned, limping slightly as he walked over to her. "Especially the jeans." He flashed her a grin.
"Well, I should hope so," she chuckled, letting the door fall shut behind them. "What else am I maintaining this ass for? Either way, consider me your servant or butler, personal assistant, what-have-you. To help make up for you limping around."
"I am not limping" he muttered gruffly, though he smirked just a little. It shifted into a slight grimace as some of Jim's cum leaked down his leg.
She recognized the tiniest lift of the shoulders coupled with that expression. She patted his shoulder, leading the way down the hall. "Been there. Many times."
"Yeah... fuck, not remotely pleasant," he grumbled, following after her. It was also an odd reminder that he'd been thoroughly dominated, which always sat strangely in his head. On the one hand, he enjoyed it. Liked the submission to someone he trusted. On the other hand it warred with his comfort zone and always left him feeling off for a while afterwards. Guarded.
She snorted, wondering how long this hallway was. Where the fuck was the door? "Believe me, I know. Christ, there it is - I was wondering if he'd had us sealed in after all," she muttered, knocking once on the metal door, and, not hearing a response or a shower running on the other side, opened it.
Beyond was a fair-sized clean bathroom, complete with towel racks and bath mat. It was oddly out of place in the honestly rather decrepit building. Moran had no doubt that Jim had had it built specifically for this evening's events. The shower was luxurious, and he reached out to turn on the water with a smile.
There was something about the expression on the face that twisted her all up inside again, jealousy gathering in her throat. There was no other word for it. She didn't want Sebastian to get that sort of look on his face for anybody but her, and her alone. It had taken the two of them a long time to get to this point, and she felt threatened by Jim's steadily encroaching presence.
He stepped into the hot water with a sigh of content, glancing over at her. For a moment there was something odd in her eyes, but then it was gone and he brushed it off. "You just gonna stand there and watch like a creep?"
"No," she rolled her eyes, stepping under the wide spray after him, letting out a quiet sigh as she relaxed under the heat. She had to stop agonizing about this. What could she do? Nothing.
He started to wash himself off, the water staining just a touch red as it headed for the drain. "How's your arm? It was hard to see how deep he went."
She gave an experimental touch, and was pleased to find only a little bit of blood came away on her fingers before it was washed away with the water. "Not too bad. I don't think it will scar or anything. I got the feeling he didn't really want to have me throw a fit about it later."
"That sounds about right," he agreed, finishing rinsing his body and sticking his head under the water, rinsing the blood off of his face.
She stepped out, heading for the counter, where she saw a pile of clothes that looked promising - she could do a full shower tonight, when she was actually familiar with her surroundings. "Do you think our life expectancy has gone up or gone down?"
"Having fucked Jim, you mean? Or something else?" He stepped out, too, picking up a towel. There was a pretty comprehensive medical kit sitting in the corner. It appeared Jim hadn't been certain how much blood would be involved with this scenario. He dug into it for butterfly sutures.
"Having fucked Jim. Again. With him planning it ahead of time," she snorted, brushing the extra water from her skin and deciding to put on her clothes just a little bit damp. "Like... is this just a thing, now? Is this what we do?"
He sighed and shrugged a little, drying his face off and then going over to the mirror and opening the sutures, starting to stick them in place to pull the wound on his cheek shut. "Hell if I know. I don't have any more experience here than you."
"Yeah you do," she argued, pulling on a pair of pants that were exactly her size. She wasn't sure why she was surprised. "You've fucked him more than I have." Her voice was toneless.
"And I'm not dead. That's all I know." He glanced over at her as he finished bandaging his cheek and reached for the boxers on the sink. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she shrugged, pulling up a pair of work-appropriate slacks. I'm feeling possessive of you even though I don't have a real claim to begin with. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He shrugged. "Nothing. Never mind." He wasn't going to go digging around in her head if she didn't feel like divulging whatever put a bug up her ass.
She didn't bother talking again until she was dressed, leaning against the counter. "We got any big jobs coming up? I've been busy managing the grifting department from afar, haven't really looked ahead for a while."
He shrugged. "Jim's got something in mind but he's been disinclined to share. Says he doesn't have everything prepared yet. In my experience it's best to just let him simmer until he's ready, he's pretty good about providing ample lead time."
She nodded. "Alright. I'll be interested to see what it is. I haven't gotten anything directly from his desk in a while. Not as useful as I used to be."
"You're plenty useful. You're just in a transition phase. If you weren't useful, you'd be dead," he pointed out, pulling on the trousers and shirt he'd been left.
"I said not as useful, but your point stands," she sighed, running a hand through her wet hair. By some standards, she was plenty useful, sure. But by hers?
He finished dressing. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, doing up his belt.
"Yup," she nodded, pushing off the counter. "Let's go get drunk, or something. Whatever you wanna do. I had no idea you could be such a good bottom," she deadpanned. Then the corner of her lips twitched up in a smirk.
"A little-known fact that you will, of course, take to the grave," he returned, expression deadly serious.
"If I don't, I'm fairly certain my grave will be meeting with me much sooner than planned," she snickered, leading the way out the exit, and squinting a little at the sudden dark. "Alright, now where did I park the car..."
"I believe it may be the one over there. The one which- by the looks of it- very narrowly avoided a tree, and now has a parking ticket on the windshield?" he suggested, a slight smirk in his voice.
"If it looks like it narrowly avoided a tree, I'm not sure how you could tell," she rolled her eyes, heading for it anyways. "Does it look particularly frightened?"
"No, but the fact that the brake skids pass within about a foot of the tree by the road behind it suggest differently," he retorted, smirking properly now. "In a hurry, were we?"
"Shut up, I don't know what you're talking about," she snorted, flicking his shoulder before moving away to walk to the driver's side of the car. "It was a perfectly leisurely drive."
He grabbed the ticket before he got in, shaking his head a little. "Illegal parking, Harrison. That's a serious offense," he deadpanned.
"So is murder. Don't make me tack that on too," she warned, half-serious, turning the key in the ignition. "I'm a dangerous woman. Just look at me. I scream danger."
"You scream something," he agreed, chuckling a bit. "Could be danger. But I like danger, so that isn't really an issue."
"Yeah, I know. Face it, I'm basically perfect for you," she smirked, pulling out of the parking lot (okay, it wasn't really a parking lot, it was a gravel lot that had a few small bushes growing op out of it) a lot slower than she had pulled in.
"Oh, I don't know that I'd go that far," he teased, smiling.
"Oi, you better watch it, I'll turn this car around - do you really want to limp home?" she laughed, rolling down the window and resting her arm on the car door, a thousand times more relaxed than she had been in the car without him.
"You drive like someone's grandmother. I could probably make it home faster walking," he said flatly, hiding a smirk.
"Just because you drive like an F1 driver doesn't mean I drive slow. Anyway, as far as I know, my grandmother drove the getaway car. Eat your words, Moran. Eat them."
"Not to my taste, I'm afraid," he shot back dryly, leaning back in the seat with a sigh as they slowed for a yellow light.
"Don't be so narrow-minded," she laughed, shaking her head. "Either way, I had my speed on the way here."
"Fair enough," he said, cracking a slight smile. His fingers tapped on the plastic of the door, and his thoughts wandered aimlessly until they ended up focused on the cut on his cheek. The familiar, raw sting had been both terrifying and intoxicating. He could remember when that pain had been everywhere, clarifying, anchoring him to reality... he wondered what would happen if he traced the old lines again...
He shook his head almost imperceptibly, ending that line of thought before he got too far, stilling the finger that itched to write his words out in blood again.
She sped up for the rest of the way home, zipping through traffic with the kind of driving that would have made her clutch her seat with worry. She pulled into the parking garage a few minutes later, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "Better, grandpa?"
"Very much so, Shrimp," he retorted with a look that clearly read let's not start the name-calling game, shall we?
She didn't like that, not at all. Besides her taught hatred of nicknames, that one was a relic from a time that she'd been much more vulnerable to him, and he'd been a dangerous flame that she just couldn't help returning to, like a stupidly self-destructive moth. But she didn't let it show on her face, just getting out of the car and chucking the keys across another vehicle to smack on the glass of the chauffeur booth. The man jumped, but she was already heading for the lift. "What do you want for dinner, anyway?"
He smirked just a little at the victory, heading after her. "I've got a good steak if that sounds good. I'm fucking starving. That and some baked potatoes."
"Steak sounds fine," she hummed, pressing the elevator button and leaning against the wall to wait for it. "Potatoes, too. I can probably cook, if you want to uh, rest, or something. I don't know."
"I've had worse than a sore arse. I think I'll live," he smirked. "Besides. Don't you have some jeans to put on?"
"If that's really what you latched onto, sure," she laughed, stepping into the elevator as it dinged open. "All the possibilities that are before you..."
"We're starting there, alright?" he muttered, following her. "Plus you can't cook steak."
She gave him a mockingly offended look. "I so can cook steak. You just happen to have more cooking skills than me."
"Mhm," he hummed, smirking a little. "Whatever you say."
"Oh, I so am going to make you pay for that," she rolled her eyes, stepping out first as the doors opened again.
"I thought I was going to be pampered tonight? 'Whatever you like', weren't those your words?" he pointed out, laughing.
"Bite me," she retorted, though good-naturedly, "Open the door, would you? I don't have my physical keys and I think the scanner is pretending not to recognize me lately."
"So presumptuous," he sighed. "What if my alleged kidnappers had cut off my fingers? Where would we be then? You need to think ahead more, Harrison," he tutted, scanning his thumb and opening the door.
"I would have picked one up off the floor and brought it with us," she hummed, chuckling.
"Resourceful," he admitted, nodding and letting her in, closing the door behind her and heading for the kitchen. "You. Jeans. Now."
"Alright, alright, I'm going," she laughed with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand, heading for the bedroom. "I'm assuming maximum tightness, so I might need a minute to wriggle into them."
"Wriggle away, I'll put the steak on," he grinned, heading into the kitchen and starting to pull out what he needed. He'd had the steak marinating since he'd bought it earlier that week, and was looking forward to tasting the results.
Lorna ended up needing to lie down on the bed to squirm her way into her tightest pair, which she'd bought not too long after their captivity at the hands of Mycroft and DeWitt. She reappeared again a minute later, already sniffing. "Christ, do you have meat air freshener you just spray in the air when you cook?"
"Yup, right next to the cooking spray," he deadpanned, flipping the steak before turning around to look at her. His eyes darkened considerably as he let his gaze trail over her legs. "Damn... Remind me again why you don't wear those all the time?"
"Comfort, convenience, speed, and just to keep it a little bit special," she quipped, boosting herself up onto the counter. "It's like our lingerie, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is," he laughed. "Should I be wearing jeans, then? Or does it only work on your side?" He went back to mincing bacon for the potatoes.
She shrugged. "Mm, for you it's flannel shirts. Sleeves rolled up is the real killer. But hey, it's not my pamper night. Do whatever you want. I'll play along."
He laughed. "I think I have a clean one sitting around. Think you can babysit the steak for a minute without it catching fire?"
"Oh my god, you know the answer to that," she rolled her eyes, making a good show of being exasperated. "Gooo."
He gave her a smile and headed for their room, closing the door behind him.
He pulled off his shirt, and stared at himself in the mirror. The scars were faded just slightly, but still plenty clear, and he ran a finger over his words in silent reverence. It was without thought that his nail bit in a little, and he closed his eyes, scratching out two words, three...
He stopped quickly and dropped his hand, eyes finding the raw, blood-beaded skin for just a moment before he turned for the bathroom to clean it off.
Get a hold of yourself.
She babysat the steak just fine while he was away, though the smell of it was a little distracting - she wanted to just eat it right off the pan, not watch it slowly cook in front of her.
He pulled on a tee-shirt and the flannel, absently rolling up the sleeves as she'd mentioned. He shook off the strange emotion, and headed back into the kitchen. "Huh. No fire alarm, seems you've done well," he teased.
She tossed a hand-towel at him, rolling her eyes at him. "For Christ's sake, I cooked for myself for years before I met you. Have some faith. You look good, by the way. Very lumberjack."
"That's good?" he asked, smiling a little as he walked over to flip the steak and pulled the baked potatoes out of the oven, setting them on top of the stove to cool.
She smirked, shrugging a little. "I don't know, with the right look, it's okay. A lot of it depends on the hair."
"And army-buzzed is that hairstyle," he snickered, finally pulling the steak off the grill and cutting it in half.
"I'd suggest you grow it out a little bit, but I suppose that would be a little silly of me," she chuckled, sliding off the counter and turning to pull a few plates out of the cabinets. "I guess it might cut down on your scare factor."
"Just a little, yes," he agreed, plating the steak and potatoes, and grabbing the fixings, leaving her to grab the plates as he headed for the table.
She followed him, setting a plate down at his place before settling down with her's at her own. Christ - how long had they even been living together now? They'd certainly never really made it all that official, besides maybe one frank discussion where they admitted, for once, what they wanted. They were not really known for doing that on a regular basis.
He set the sour cream and brown sauce down, and the bowls of cheese and bacon. He headed back to the fridge for butter and the beer. He was still turning the earlier events over in his head. "He fucking kidnapped me," he muttered as he headed back over to the table.
"I, uh, I know," she shook her head, starting to adorn her steak with her favorite of the fixings - brown sauce and bacon. She took one of the beers from him as he sat back down. "God, I was worried. Jim's going to give me a damn heart attack."
"Yes... I'm debating whether or not to discuss his methods with him later," he sighed.
"If you think it'll work," she shook her head faintly, picking up her silverware and beginning to cut into her steak. "But you might be able to get away with it. God knows no one else could."
He nodded in agreement, cutting into his steak. He took a bite, and let out a quiet hum of content.
She let the conversation fade, following suit and concentrating on eating for a few minutes, letting her thoughts wander. In a direction she deemed safe, that is. She'd had enough second-guessing his every move for one night.
He was silent while they ate, content to be so. It had taken him a while after the Words, but he was gradually making his way back to his normal, silent self. It was reassuring. He could handle the silence.