Notes: I'm sorry in advance. This chapter was extremely hard for me to RP/write/edit, and it's hard for me to read. Just a warning that there is severe misery ahead.
Sebastian downed his wine. He couldn't be sober for this next part. He couldn't bear it. "Ah, ah, Seb, easy on the drinks. We wouldn't you getting whiskey dick, would we? Not for what's coming up for dessert," Jim said. He locked his eyes on John, then put a hand under John's chin and raised it, forcing John to meet his eyes. "I have a celebration planned tonight, John," he said in an eerily soft voice. "Remember how much fun we had the last time we were together? Well, tonight's your lucky night. Your two favorite shag partners, together for one spectacular double act—are you about to mess your trousers at the very thought? I know Sebastian is." He flicked his eyes to Sebastian, who was staring at him in contempt. He couldn't bear the thought of John riding Jim willingly, loving it. If John enjoyed himself tonight, he would never recover. If John was in torment through it all, he would crumble. There was no way this evening wasn't going to be the worst of his life.
John didn't say anything, just stared blankly ahead, hollowly. For the first time in his life, John actually began to contemplate suicide. If he killed himself, it would be over. No more torture, no more threats. He'd do what Jim wanted tonight, but after this...no more. He couldn't. He wondered if anyone would ever find out what happened to him or if he would just disappear. Perhaps he'd be stashed away where Sebastian hid all the other bodies of men he'd killed. People who were meaningless to him. It would suit quite nicely.
Jim watched him as he drank another glass of wine. "You both clean up so well—I'm barely able to contain myself. Honestly, there's about a million different ways we could do this. I think we should go with what comes naturally, although personally I'm crossing my fingers that we get some military play in. A captain and a colonel...my cup runneth over." He clicked his fingers. "Seb, carry John upstairs and take off his clothes. Tie him up the way we talked about."
"Carry him? He can walk, can't he?" Sebastian asked, but Jim's warning glare cut him off. His heart pounded. Jim had spent the day running over possibilities of how they could have John. Sebastian had thrown up multiple times during the day, in private, and now the wine was settling unpleasantly in his hollow stomach. He rose, threw down his napkin, and walked over to John, waiting awkwardly for John to stand up. He'd really rather not yank John out of his chair. He was reminded painfully of the date where he'd "abducted" John. He regretted it now. It had been so fun, so incredible at the time, so naughty, but now he wanted to erase all those rough moments with John, as amazing as they had been, and replace them with the most tender, loving gestures he could. Too late for that.
John silently stood, his chair lightly scraping the floor. He didn't want Sebastian to carry him, but all will and motivation to argue had been drained from him. There wasn't a point. They could use his body however they wanted because tomorrow he would be free of it.
Sebastian lifted John into his arms, bridal style, refusing to fling John over his shoulder as he'd done before. Was there any way he could tell John anything without Jim knowing? He silently and smoothly carried John up the steps. It had been so long since he'd gotten to touch John. He wanted to carry him into his room and lock themselves in and tell him the truth, tell him everything, to hold them and protect him. Instead, he carried John to Jim's room and set him down gently. Still silent, he began undressing John as if he was a mannequin, resisting the urge to brush his lips over John's bullet wound—he'd missed that, he realized. He'd missed it and he hadn't even known how much until he saw it again. He couldn't stop his fingers from brushing over it for just a moment. He knelt in front of John, which seemed a fitting position. He wanted to beg on his knees for forgiveness. He undid John's belt buckle, slid it loose, then loosened John's zipper and slid his trousers down. He moved his hands to John's waistband, looked up, and for a moment their eyes met. "I'm sorry," he murmured, then slipped John's pants down, leaving him naked.
John barely even noticed Sebastian's finger's brushing over his skin. He was far too busy trying to not remember all of the time they'd spent together before this. John almost believed Sebastian when he apologized, but not quite. He looked away and mumbled, "How did he want me tied?"
It took a long time for Sebastian to answer. He began pulling out the supplies Jim had readied, then finally said, "...In an at ease position. So. If you could, erm...step out of your trousers and take off your shoes and socks..." He waited for John to do so, then pulled John's hands behind him, folding them up so his wrists were crossed and bound between his shoulder blades, as Jim had wanted. He took a spreader bar and pushed John's legs apart, securing his ankles so he couldn't move them back together. The next part was harder for him to bear to do. He took a thick collar, a posture collar, that would force John to keep his chin up and his head facing forward. Once that was buckled on, he took a wide bit gag, asked quietly for John to open his mouth, then pushed it inside, buckling it behind John as well. He stepped behind John, unable to bear seeing him like this, and kissed his shoulder once. "John, remember...whatever Jim does to your body, he can't take you." He hoped he'd said it quietly enough that Jim's bugs couldn't hear. The bedroom was bugged, naturally. He doubted John believed him. Who could blame him? He'd snatched his heart away and now had trussed him up to be standing unsteadily in front of the door, as vulnerable as could be. The final piece Jim wanted. He took a butt plug and coated it with lube, then pressed it up against John's hole, as a warning of what was coming, then slowly pushed it in.
John let out a small whimper as the plug was pushed in. The position he was in was a bit precarious and uncomfortable, but it was more humiliating than anything. At ease. Military. Sebastian. He hadn't realized he had any heart left to hurt until it started doing just that. John's eyes moved over to the corner of his eyes as Sebastian whispered softly to him. This was probably just part of the game. Some sort of "good cop, bad cop" thing to mess with him more. Well, Jim won, because it was working. The illusion that Sebastian cared hurt horribly, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Jim pushed the door open and wolf-whistled at John. "Ooh, Johnny, darling, you look spectacular." He waltzed over and gave his prick a light squeeze before he started to carefully pull of his own clothing. "Sebastian, dear, strip."
"Yes, boss," Sebastian murmured submissively, undoing his own tie and changing behind John. He couldn't bear the whimper John had made, seeing him vulnerable and humiliated like this.
Jim, once completely naked, wearing his skin with the confidence of one of his Westwoods, strode forward to John and ran a hand down the side of his face. "Ooh, John...I'm so glad that you're mine now."
John gave a weak protesting moan from behind the gag as Jim glanced over at Sebastian. "Aren't you happy, Sebastian? Don't you think we'll have fun?'
"Fuck off," Sebastian spat. "I mean, sure, boss, whatever you want, boss," he amended bitterly.
Jim gave him a glare and mouthed, ACT CONVINCING OR HE DIES. "Mm, good, good. Why don't you two have the first go? I've never been able to watch before. Sounds like it could be fun."
The first go? How long was Jim planning on dragging this out? "Of course, Jim," Sebastian murmured. He forced himself to step in front of John, feeling disgusting. He ran his hands down John's chest and anchored them around John's ribcage, stabilizing John as well as feeling him. God, despite everything, despite that John's body was tightened up in loathing, he wanted to cry at being able to touch John. He moved his lips to John's shoulder beginning to tenderly kiss the skin. He kissed passionately up John's neck. This might be the last time he ever got to touch John, and it was far, far from how he wanted it to be, but he had to think of this as goodbye. He buried his face against John's neck as kissed his shoulder and collarbone, hiding his tears from him. He wondered if John could feel the wetness against his skin. He wondered if John could feel anything anymore.
John couldn't move, but he could feel and he could see and he wished he couldn't do either, so he closed his eyes, not liking the view of Jim sprawled on his bed smirking at the pair of them. The downside of this was that his lack of vision made it harder to ignore Sebastian's lips on his skin. John worked hard to keep his thoughts on all of the cases he and Sherlock had been on. He tried mentally listing elements from the period table. He even resorted to trying to remember the different tobacco ashes Sherlock had catalogued. It worked for small fragments at a time, but not enough to keep a tear from slipping out of the corner of one of his eyes and slowly rolling down his cheek.
Sebastian felt the teardrop against his face as his moved up to kiss John's earlobe, and he had to do everything to stop from sobbing. Instead, he began nibbling and licking at John's earlobe.
"Dull, Seb. I haven't got all night," Jim drawled from the bed. Sebastian turned to glare at Jim, then trailed a hand down to touch John's cock, coaxing it to hardness. He could feel John's breath quicken behind his gag, and he continued to move his hand along John's cock, occasionally traveling down to tug lightly at his balls. Meanwhile his lips trailed up John's face, pressing a delicate kiss against his closed eyelid, his lips brushing against John's eyebrow. Every movement of his lips on John's skin was an apology and a love letter, even though he knew John would take it as neither.
John didn't think he would ever be able to forgive himself for getting hard under Sebastian's touch. Luckily for him though, he wouldn't have to, once he'd killed himself. Every kiss, every touch, sickened him. He was just a toy, a thing to be used.
After a few more minutes, Jim rolled his eyes, "Jesus, Sebastian, this is pathetic. It's turning me off more than on. Put him on the bed. I'm fucking him and he's sucking you off."
Sebastian clenched his teeth together and undid John's collar, then removed the spreader bar from John's ankles. He moved to untie John's hands, but Jim barked, "Leave them." So he took out the gag and pulled out the butt plug, glad at least that it would stretch John out a bit for John. He situated John on bed on his side, moving to sit up so John's mouth could reach his lap, while also leaving his arse accessible for Jim. He hated that he had to think out such sickening logistics.
John let Sebastian flop him around like a rag doll. This, he was positive, would've been the worst moment of his life if he had had anything left in him to care. As it was, he was hollow. He felt like there was nothing of himself left. His eyes had glazed over, and he felt Jim move up behind him and lay on his side, then realized a moment later that he'd already thrust in to him. Interesting how he hadn't even felt it. Hm. All for the better. It was his turn now, he supposed, and so, he arched neck, and took Sebastian's cock into his mouth while Jim started to thrust.
Sebastian held John's head, if only to support him so his neck didn't get sore in this awkward position. He gasped and whimpered as John took him in his mouth, despite how horrible he felt about it. He hardened quickly.
"Mmmm, God, John, your arse is a beautiful place to be. I might never leave," Jim gasped, then looked over at Sebastian. "And you've always looked gorgeous when you're being worked over, Seb," he said. "God, this is delicious..." He began to thrust harder.
Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on his hand tangled in John's hair, but he was overtaken with John's mouth around his cock.
John didn't even know what he was doing. He could feel Jim stretching him open and pounding in to him, keeping up an almost constant monologue about God knows what, but that was really it. His body was taken over, and was just in do, do, do mode, his mind mercifully shutting off.
Sebastian kept his eyes closed, trying to come as quickly as he could. It was hard, not only because he wasn't in the mood, but because John wasn't trying to stimulate him—he was just moving his mouth back and forth. Who could blame him? He tried to shut out what was actually happening and imagined holding John close, telling him he loved him, being happy, far away from Jim, tasting every inch of him and seeing him bloom in ecstasy—he was getting close when Jim barked, "John, stop sucking him off!"
As soon as Sebastian pulled away from John, Jim shoving John roughly forward so that his shoulders and face were pressed uncomfortably against the bed, hoisting his hips in the air and thrusting as hard as he could. "What do you say, Seb? Think John could make room for two cocks at once?"
Sebastian gaped at him. There was no way. Was that even possible? Was Jim serious?
John could hardly breath as he was pressed against the bedding. His shoulders ached, and once he'd registered what Jim said, he let a small whimper escape his lips. They couldn't.
"I bet he's got room. Sebby, you'll just need to get under him." Jim grabbed John's shoulders and yanked him up to his knees. "Sebastian, on your back in front of us." When Sebastian had done so, Jim shoved John so that he fell forward. Unable to catch himself with his wrists behind his back, he fell flat against Sebastian.
Sebastian hitched in a breath as John fell against him, holding onto John shoulders. His lips were inches away from John's face, and he breathed hard against it as he felt Jim's hands on his cock, lubing it, stroking it, guiding it against his and then pushing it up into John. It was the most insane feeling—his cock was nudged right up against Jim's, and John felt so unbelievably tight. He gasped out a breath, groaning loudly, unable to stop himself. He held onto John's torso to support him as he felt Jim begin to thrust in and out—every moment was painful and undeniably pleasurable. He could see stars in front of his eyes and squeezed them closed. He should not feel this good. He hated his body at the moment, even as pleasure shot through every inch of him.
John let out a tortured scream as he felt something tear inside him. Jim's cock moved faster as it was now slicked with blood. It was unbearable and John couldn't help the sob that escaped from his lips. He couldn't take it any more. "Please—!" He yelled out with the last ounce of strength in his lungs. "Please—just kill me, PLEASE!" he screamed. He didn't want to wait until after this any longer. He wanted the relief of death, from the pain and hurt and humiliation now.
Sebastian choked out a sob. He pulled out immediately and desperately covered John's eyes so that John couldn't see that he was weeping. Jim thrust a couple more times and came deep inside John, groaning loudly and leaning down to bite John hard in the shoulder. "Oh God, YES!" He fell out of John, laughing at his bloody cock. Sebastian quickly scrambled off the bed and left the room. He was going to get his gun. He was going to end them. End them all. This couldn't continue. He couldn't let John live if John had nothing left to live for. He would kill them all. Then there would be nothing. Nothing had never sounded so wonderful.