This was written to go with two drawings. I get bored and write ficlets on random posts. SUE ME!
The blood began to sink into his hair. Beneath him the liquid spread as he tried to lay perfectly still. Sebastian could feel the firm pressure of his boss's hand upon his chest. He didn't dare move. He knew what would happen to him if he did. Yet he could feel the urge to smirk. To open his eyes and peer up at the man leaning over him. He didn't. Instead he remained motionless. Like the corpse he was meant to be.
He could feel the warm breath of Jim close on his face. Although he couldn't see he could tell that the man was nearly touching his face. The smell of his cologne drifting into his nostrils. It smelt strongly of sandalwood and musk. Sebastian knew that it would be clinging to his clothes for a while now. He didn't mind one bit.
Added pressure was applied to his chest as he felt Jim edge closer towards his left ear. The man still supporting himself off the floor, with his hands, yet pressed against Sebastian's chest. He still didn't move. "Sebastian," the voice whispered in his ear. It mixed beautifully with the accent. Producing a harsh harmony. "I'm going to fuck your corpse till my heart's content and if you fucking move I will kill you and make you into my next pair of shoes."
As he felt a string of pleasurable pain nibbling at his ear he knew that the task of him remaining motionless was going to be difficult.
Moran stared down at the corpse below him. It was just another body, wasn't it? Not important. Another necessary death. Another payment. It shouldn't affect him. Not emotionless Captain Moran who had killed hundreds of people. Yet as he felt the smoke descend into his lungs he felt something tug inside of him.
The body below him did not move. Instead it just laid there, blood spreading out beneath the head. As he looked down he could see the eyes staring at him. The smile was almost lifeless. It was wrong. They shouldn't be looking at him like that. Taunting him.
Moran stood up and walked over to the exit. He took one last look back at the corpse upon the roof floor. "Goodbye, Sir."
With that he left. He didn't turn back again. He refused to let himself break down. It wasn't like him. Jim wouldn't have wanted it. He would have laughed at him. Beaten him. It was just the way things had been and Moran didn't want to disappoint. Moran left that day making a vow. Nobody was to ever call him 'Sebastian' again and if they did they would end up as a lovely pair of size ten Blucher Wingtips.