Sebastian knows what their deal is: Jim calls. Seb comes. Jim points. Seb shoots. That's all they are and all they ever will be. But underneath Sebastian's skin, he feels like he's burning. He wants Jim so badly he can't seem to breathe. He drags himself through hell, just to follow Jim's footsteps, and in the end, all he wants is to take Jim to bed.
Much as that kills him.
As a gift for theworstwolves
When Jim reaches out and lays his hand on Sebastian’s head, Seb can’t help a flinch. It makes Jim laugh, soft and delicate in the silence. Jim’s cold fingers stroke through Sebastian’s hair, feeling each strand. The pads of his fingertips are gentle, but he still manages to find the tender spot and push in, until Sebastian hisses against the burn.
“Don’t act so put out,” Jim says, calmly. There’s a creaking sound as he leans back in his office chair and his fingers trail to the nape of Sebastian’s neck. “You liked it.”
“Get fucked,” Sebastian growls, before he can help himself. He snaps his lips shut over the rest of what he wants to say, letting it burn through his stomach like a lit cigarette.Jim doesn’t seem to care.
“Oh, Moran. Don’t lie to me. You’re going to get yourself off to this later.” The pad of his index finger reaches the bare skin where Sebastian’s neck meets his shoulder and traces a slow, deliberate circle. “Would it have been better for you if I’d told you to suck my cock? If I’d pushed you over the table and fucked you there, made you beg, shown them you weren’t anything but my toy?”
