Me and a gun

Jim’s phone buzzed half a hour later. It was a text from Sebastian, a simple smile with a photo attached. The photo, although quite dark, showed the driver, a terrified expression on his face and blood dripping from his forehead, blinding him. His hands and feet were tied up with ropes and he was standing on a chair, a rope around his neck. Sebastian stood in front of him, smoking, apparently lost in thought and without a care for the man’s whimpers and cries. He was wearing only a grey tank top, he didn’t want to get blood on his jacket and white shirt. - Ready to play? - he asked, with no expression on his face. His captive cried out, his whimpers muffled by the gag.

Sebastian smiled while reading Jim’s text. It was going to be fun, he could tell.

“Do you have any suggestions?” he texted back, glancing at the oblivious driver, who was busy cursing at London’s traffic.

Sebastian looked at Jim until he had disappeared inside. Only then he turned to look at the driver. - 12 Wentworth Street, please - he said, before relaxing against the seat. He wanted to pick up everything he needed before taking care of the driver. As Jim used to say “No rush.”

- Consider it done- Sebastian replied with a smirk, pressing a kiss to Jim’s forehead. It has been a long day, and he needed to get his weapons back. He had learned a long time ago not to keep them in the place Jim lived in, and he had a few different hiding placles around London. However, he didn’t need anything special to kill the driver.

Sebastian tightened his grip on Jim’s fingers, slightly worried. He couldn’t help but feeling touched by Jim’s words, and he lifted his chin, slowly kissing him on the lips. - The driver will bring us home - he promises, with half a smile.

- I don’t know why. I guess it’s just how it is - Sebastian answered, running his fingers through Jim’s dark hair. Truth to be told, he didn’t share Jim’s views about mankind. He needed people, they were far more interesting targets than wild animals. Besides, he was perfectly aware of how human he was, nothing close to Jim’s degree of sheer insanity and brilliance. Of course, a lot of people would have laughed at the idea of Sebastian Moran considering himself human. But to him, he was nowhere near demonic. Jim was a different matter altogether, though.

- What happened? - Sebastian asked, lightly brushing Jim’s shoulders, wondering how long Jim’s sour mood was going to last. - You should share your murders, you know that - he pointed out, with a sigh.

Sebastian didn’t reply, wondering what the hell was going on. At least he could get dressed. He shrugged, and lit a cigarette even before getting dressed. It felt good being clothed again, and he laid his head on the back seat, taking a few moments to relax.

Sebastian needed a smoke. Too bad everything burned. Again. He knew Jim was in a sore mood, but he didn’t care. Ok, maybe he did. A little. - Don’t be like that - he said, putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder. - I’ll make it up to you - he promised, even though it should have been the other way round

- Of course you were - grunted Sebastian, refusing to let Jim be the one sulking when he was wearing next to nothing. - Was the whole thing an elaborate way to tell me you wanted to change apartment again? - he asked, rolling his eyes.

Sebastian had had enough. This was the payoff for Jim being too nice in the bedroom, apparently. He sighed and then simply lifted Jim and put him on his shoulders, ignoring his pleas and the shocked tenants. Then he ran downstairs, mentally cursing Jim and his playful mood. Luckily, a black Mercedes was already waiting for them and Sebastian quickly shoved Jim inside, before slipping close to him and shutting the door.

- No way! - Sebastian was seriously over the whole thing. The scandalized glares, the uncomfortable expressions of the people around, aware of his nudity and bedroom hair. Not to mention the marks on his skin that made very obvious why he supposedly forget to check the cooker. - We go now. No firemen! And before you ask, no, I won’t dress up as one for your birthday - he announced, before pushing the stunned tenants away and carrying Jim with him on the stairs.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, exasperated. He couldn’t believe Jim was going to have him leave the house with only boxers and an open shirt on. By the time they reached the door, the fire was spreading in the living room. The corridor was packed with concerned tenants, who gasped at the sight of the room in fire and Seb’s lack of clothes. A old lady approached them, obviously concerned. - Oh boys! What happened? Is your fire alarm broken? - she asked. Sebastian wanted to kill Jim, that was incredibly humiliating. - The firemen should be here soon - another woman said. - You could have killed us all! - she accused, clearly enraged.

- What? - Sebastian looked at Jim, with his best judgemental look. - You can’t make me go out like this. You can’t - he replied, opening the wardrobe to get at least a shirt. He managed to grab some underwear and started quickly to put it on, before snagging a shirt, which was definitely too small for him. - I hate you, you know that right? - he grumbled. 

- What? You crazy son of a bitch! - Sebastian cursed and ran out of the room, just to find out that the yes, the kitchen was on fire, and yes, his clothes had been destroyed as well. - Dammit Jim! - he shouted. - We have to leave the place before it burns down completely and I am supposed to go around naked? - he brought a hand to his forehead, with a pained expression. - All this smoke is giving me a headache - he complained. - Give me something of yours - he ordered, while starting to collect his possessions, scattered around the room.