Just Having Fun

When Jim finally came home that night, Sebastian was sitting on the living room couch, waiting for him. His legs were crossed, hands folded in his lap, blue eyes staring calmly at the dark hardwood floor. The position was casual, but Jim knew better: this serenity was a facade that Sebastian only assumed when he was containing white-hot rage.

"Hey, tiger," Jim said cheerfully, like he didn't hear his boyfriend's teeth grinding, slow and angry. There was a pause before Sebastian said anything, and even when he did, he did not move even slightly out of his former position. His eyes bore holes inyo the floor.

"It's one in the morning." He glanced up at Jim, saw the way his eyes wandered, saw how he was wobbling on his feet like he'd forgotten how to walk. "And you're high."

"Drunk, too," Jim replied, smirking. He sauntered up to the couch and flopped himself down next to Sebastian, sharp-smelling breath on his cheek and one thin leg curling over his thigh. He suddenly shoved a hand onto Seb's crotch and growled, "You know how much I like stoned sex, darling."

Sebastian hissed in annoyance and pulled away. Jim pouted.

"Seb, are you angry at me?" he asked. "Why? I've come home in worse states than this - you've never seemed to mind before." Sebastian stood and laughed bitterly. He gave Jim one long, blue-eyed look, before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away. But by now, Jim was bored of trying to deal with Sebastian's emotions. He huffed indifferently and pushed himself up off the couch.

"Fine, then, sourpuss. I don't have to spend the night here if you don't want me." He straightened his collar and headed back toward the flat's door.

"Are you going to go see her again?" Sebastian spat. He was facing away from Jim, and it was a mercy, because he didn't have the strength right then to hide what his anger was doing to his face.

Jim pivoted slowly around. "Her?" he asked. Sebastian clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.

"You know who the fuck I mean, Jim." Jim raised an eyebrow.

"...Actually, no. I don't. Care to elaborate? There are quite a lot of hers on the Earth. A massive concentration in London alone." Sebastian turned around now, his face red and his lips shaking like some kind of heartbroken wild animal.

"The girl you kissed in the restroom of the pub you went to this afternoon," he hissed. It seemed to take Jim a moment to recall.

"Oh, her? Brunette. Beautiful. What about her?"

Sebastian's mouth widened and closed again, like he didn't know what to say.

"What about her? You bloody kissed her, you bastard!" he choked out. Jim raised his hands in surprised surrender. He took a step back as Sebastian took a step forward.

"It was just a kiss, Seb!" 

"Just a kiss? You don't just kiss people, Jim!"

"I don't know why I should explain what I did," Jim replied, pursing his lips and crossing his arms. In contrast, Sebastian gestured in the air frantically.

"Because we're in a bloody relationship, Jim! You and me!" He jabbed a finger at Jim, then at himself. He seemed to deflate under his own touch. "When you're in a relationship with someone, you don't kiss random brunettes in pub restrooms!" 

"I get high, I get drunk, I don't come home for days - bloody hell, I kill people, Seb! I make you kill people for me! And you're getting worked up over one fucking kiss?" Jim was yelling back now. Sebastian only shook his head and dragged a hot palm over his eyes.

"The worst part is that you don't get the point," he sighs. "You really don't get why someone's boyfriend kissing someone else is different from them snorting coke once in a while." 

Jim squinted and forced a smile. "You're right. I don't." Sebastian closed his eyes and took one quick breath. 

"Get the fuck out." His voice was the picture of composure, but it took a second for Jim to register exactly what he had said. 

"You can't be serious. This is my place, too."

"I paid for this flat, Jim. It's all in my name. So if I want you to get the fuck out, you're going to get the fuck out." Jim still didn't move. So Sebastian grabbed him, shoved him backwards, and slammed the door in his face. There was a brief silence, both men completely stunned, before it was broken by Jim's low laugh.

"Yeah, alright, Sebby. You've had your joke. Now open the door, and we'll have a good laugh about it." There was no answer from the other side of the dark green door. "Let me in, Sebastian." Again, no answer. Jim started to pound on the door with his fists, crying out. "Sebastian! Sebastian!" He still wasn't sober. He didn't have enough active brain cells to be dealing with this right now. "I was just having fun!"

Just having fun. Was that what he had been doing? Sebastian thought. He went out to find some fun because he had grown bored of his boyfriend. Plausible enough. Jim had been using him, manipulating him, for years. He didn't really mind, because he thought he had a handle on it. He had been paid well for his work, and the sex hadn't been half bad, either. But Sebastian slipped. He fell in love, and he had been stupid enough to believe that Jim had done the same. But already, Sebastian was old news. A well-aimed gun and a warm cock - was that all he had ever been to Jim?

Outside in the hall, Jim was rubbing something warm and wet out of his eyes. He had been crying for a few minutes now, a heavy flow he simply didn't feel like holding in. He was realizing that he was very close to losing Sebastian altogether. He'd never been a very good boyfriend. But all Sebastian had seemed to need from him was someone he could trust - and he had failed him. He tried to imagine a future without Sebastian at his side. He'd been alone before, because he hadn't known what he was missing, but now - he couldn't fathom losing this man. Jim felt sad and helpless and completely lost. He didn't like it at all. He needed to be in control of the situation, and with emotions clouding his eyes, pills clouding his brain, and alcohol swimming lazily in his veins, that was virtually impossible. So Jim did the first irrational thing that came to mind.

Jim threw his body against the door. Once, twice. On the third try, the door came crashing down. Inside, Sebastian whipped around in surprise. Jim was standing on the ruined door, a gun aimed at Sebastian's head. Sebastian didn't raise his hands, only looked tiredly at Jim like he had known something like this would happen. 

"I'm not going to lose you, Moran. I'll bloody shoot you first."

"Then shoot me."

There were wrinkles on Sebastian's face. Jim had never noticed them before, but now he looked so exhausted. Of Jim, of them. Of everything. 

"I've been shit to you," Jim said quietly. He looked down at his gun, now lowered, in a mix of disgust and confusion. "Fuck, I'm actually holding you at gunpoint." The gun wasn't the worst they've been through, but it's what made Jim realize that he couldn't simply use Sebastian anymore. He cared about him - really did - and he hated what he had been doing to him the past few years. He was sorry. He didn't say it out loud, but Sebastian knew what he meant.

"I love you," Jim said. 

"I know." Sebastian scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "But I just - I need some time to get over this." Jim nodded.

"I understand." He turned around and walked through the broken doorway. A week or two from then, they'd meet up again, forgive each other. Their relationship would still be unconventional and hurtful at times, but Jim would never break his trust again. And they never forgot to remind the other that they loved each other, because a little tenderness was all Moran and Moriarty had ever wanted, in the first place.