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Sebastian focuses on her, on that girl that Jim has been chatting up over the last couple of weeks. Molly Hooper. Even her name is despicable and he didn’t even know it until four hours ago when he was told that tonight, he’d be on recon duty; that tonight, he’s here to watch out for his boss’ life. He really doubts it, because the girl is small and soft and shy, and Sebastian hates her so much it takes considerable effort to not pull the trigger when Jim leans over the table to brush a strand of stray hair away from her face. He thinks he might be sick.
She doesn’t deserve Jim’s attention. She’s ordinary, just like everyone else, so soft and pliant and malleable and everything that Sebastian isn’t, everything that Jim doesn’t value, and yet, he’s stroking her hair out of the way so that he can gaze deeper into her eyes, and if that’s acting, then Jim is better than Sebastian has given him credit for.
He knows he’s only supposed to look but he can’t help himself, can’t keep in control of himself, not when this is going on, and if he’s choosing between blowing Molly Hooper’s brains out only two inches from his boss’s face or calling Jim, he knows which one Jim would prefer.
Jim picks up after two signals and he can see Jim talking through the scope, can see Jim make hushed excuses to Molly as he says, “Yes?” in that faked soft voice that Sebastian hates.
“The fuck are you doing?!” Sebastian hisses, and he doesn’t care that he’s overstepping his line, not like this, and the line has been blurring for so long now anyway he can hardly tell the difference. “And why the fuck am I here?”
“I can’t right now, sorry, I’m on a date,” Jim says, Jim from IT right in his ear with the fact accent that makes Sebastian want to shake him until he comes back and is his Jim again, but of course he can’t do that. “It’s really great of you to cover for me.”
He watches Jim mouth “work, sorry,” to Molly before he stands and walks out of Sebastian’s line of sight. There’s not a chance in hell he’s going to take his crosshairs off of the woman so he lets Jim walk, supposing it will leave them some space to talk as themselves.
“Sorry boss,” he says, as soon as he realises what that means. He’s been around Jim’s new alter ego for so long he’s almost forgotten about the horrible mood swings of his actual employer. “I just--”
Jim interrupts him then, which is just as well, considering how Sebastian has got no idea what he was going to say. “Got jealous, yes. I was expecting this. Get it under control or you will face serious consequences, Moran. Now piss off home. You’re making the right decision if you sleep in your own bed tonight.”
And, all things considered, that isn’t such a bad punishment. “Yes, sir.”
*
Sebastian isn’t sure what he expects the next morning when Jim comes out from his bedroom and tells him that there’s a just-fucked girl in there that needs to be treated as though she knows absolutely nothing and will for all intents and purposes continue to know absolutely nothing, but Sebastian can’t help but feel skeptical at that. Jim would never... Right? Even as doubt sneaks up on him, Sebastian has to see it for himself.
He gets up off the couch and brings his coffee mug to open the door but has to pause, because there really is a woman in the bed and he recognizes her. Last night he had her right in the crosshairs and was forced to let her go because Jim needed an in to that bloody hospital and Sherlock fucking Holmes, because it was nothing but business and none of his business in any case. Sebastian pauses, because the woman in the bed is Molly Hooper, and Sebastian was promised Molly Hooper was nothing but a practicality. Suddenly, she's gone from being that to being a line Sebastian had begun to think didn't even exist.
She pulls the covers up higher over her body, hiding it from him, and smiles a shy little confused smile at him. “Oh,” she says. She obviously had no idea Jim has a roommate and he wonders why Jim does this to them, and if he’s doing it to her or to him primarily. He doesn’t know what makes him feel more jealous; that it might be her, or that Jim actually fucked her, even after he told Sebastian it was strictly business. Perhaps, he thinks, this is some other way in which Jim asserts dominance over him; I can have a woman but you can’t. If it is, it’s the first way that didn’t bring anything good with it. It just makes Sebastian want to kill someone.
He turns in the door and heads back out into the kitchen. He feels sick. Why would Jim do that, why would Jim even think about doing that? Jim doesn’t like women. He doesn’t like men either, not really; Jim likes challenges and winning and owning and having and branding. That shy little woman isn’t a challenge, not as far as Sebastian can tell anyway, and she surely isn’t owned or branded. This was never supposed to happen. There was never supposed to be anyone else.
He eats his breakfast slowly because it feels like it grows in his mouth as he chews but he’s never been put off his food before and he isn’t about to let Jim change that too; he isn’t about to let Jim affect him so much that he’s rendered unable to eat. Not now. Not like this. He reminds himself of what Jim told him last night; keep it in check. You’re better than this, Moran.
After about ten minutes of pointless chewing the woman exits Jim’s room and comes to join him by the table. “Oh,” she says awkwardly as she stills a little bit away, looking down at him as if she hadn’t expected him to still be there, and then at the thick porridge he’s been trying to eat. “Is there more?”
Sebastian shakes his head no. He didn’t even make any for Jim, out of spite for the date, obeying the man’s almost daily order that he doesn’t want any food ever again as some kind of passive-aggressive way of revenge. He doesn’t feel like it’s working and he wishes there was more just so he could have the pleasure of being rude by refusing her anyway.
“Okay,” she says quietly as she sits down on the opposite side of the table, in Jim’s chair, in Jim’s spot, the exact same spot Jim sits in when he glares at Sebastian’s attempts to bring him breakfast, glares at the porridge and the cereal and the fruit cocktail and the yoghurt and never the same thing twice. Molly doesn’t glare. She looks him over curiously, his naked chest and the collar that hangs there. She reads the sentiment on the brick and blushes.
“So... You have a girlfriend then?” she says, so awkward still and so obviously uncomfortable as she looks down onto her own two feet. He would’ve pitied her if he wasn’t so busy feeling spiteful.
“Boyfriend,” he says, making sure to fix her with his eyes. She looks a little surprised and has just opened her mouth to respond when Jim comes striding into the kitchen, so obviously Jim from IT that Sebastian has to stop putting food in his mouth to avoid choking on it. God he hates him right now, him and his stupid fucking power plays.
He expects Jim to keep acting the part, to grab Molly by the waist and kiss her and flaunt it all right there in front of him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks up to Sebastian and sits down on his lap. “Sorry sweetie,” he says, clearly addressing Sebastian. “Molly and I had a few drinks too many and wound up in bed together. Nothing happened, though. You don’t mind, do you?”
Jim’s tone of voice clearly indicates he would rather die than touch her sexually and even though Sebastian knows Jim must’ve planned this, that at least fifty percent of his story is pure bullshit, he doesn’t care because he’s so relieved that he didn’t do it. Jim didn’t actually fuck her.
He sees his chance and wraps his arms around Jim’s middle as he suddenly feels so much better about this. It wasn’t even for real. It was just a game, just another game. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me tonight,” he says with a genuine smile and leans in to give Jim a soft kiss. Normally he’d never dare pull something like this but the combination of hatred towards the girl and Jim’s pliant behaviour for playing his part is too good an opportunity for him to ignore, so he does it anyway, kissing Jim to his heart content for the girl to see.
Molly’s eyes dart between the two of them quickly and she goes beetroot red as she stutters out an, “Oh.” Sebastian smiles into Jim’s skin, and as Jim turns his attention to her Sebastian starts to kiss Jim’s neck, to try and make her even more uncomfortable.
“I didn’t realise--” she stutters, and Sebastian hears the chair scrape the floor as he resists the urge to give Jim a nice, big hickey. It’s the least of what the bastard deserves but he’ll make this up to him, somehow, he’s sure. He always does.
“Maybe I should go,” she says, and Jim agrees silently that yes, she should. Sebastian hears her leave as he stays close to the skin of Jim’s neck, and he doesn’t get pushed away the moment he hears the door shut behind the woman like he thought he would. Instead, Jim kisses the top of his head, and stays snuggled into his lap for a long, few moments.
Sebastian knows he should be more upset than he is. He knows that he should be upset with Jim for toying with him, for lying to him, for treating him the way he has, but he can’t really get the anger back, not if Jim hasn’t actually touched her, and for some strange reason he doesn’t think he has. As long as Jim is his and his alone, he can do whatever he likes to him, and Sebastian will take it, like he always has. It is, after all, what he does best.
The only thing that bothers him, and even that just slightly, is the initial scare. He thought for a moment that Jim had slept with someone else and it made him feel so bad. He doesn’t want that to ever happen again, and so, he reaches a hand in under Jim’s shirt to wrap around the dog tags that rest there, his dog tags. Jim never takes them off.
“As long as you’re wearing these, you’re not going to be with anyone else,” he says, squeezing harder and pulling the chain gently to really get the message through. Jim chuckles silently against his ear before he gently bites the lobe and for a moment Sebastian loses all touch with coherent thought.
“As long as you’re wearing these, you’re not going to be with anyone else,” he says, as close to demands as he dares go, as he squeezes harder and pulls the chain gently to really get the message through. Jim chuckles silently against his ear before he gently bites the lobe and for a moment Sebastian loses all touch with coherent thought.
“Knowing I could have you instead? Not a chance, tiger,” he murmurs, and he’s very much his fake self still, but that’s alright. Sebastian’s been meaning to shove him up against a wall and give it to him good for some time, now.