Unsaid Words

The First Thursday

Seb sat, alone, in his room. Well, it was technically Jim's room, but Jim had given the room to him.

It had been a few days since he'd first come to live with him. Jim's first impression on Seb had been completely accurate. Jim was experienced at blackmailing. Seb often heard him on the phone threatening people. In addition, Jim was definitely a psychopath. He made it very obvious that he didn't care about Seb's feelings, which was annoying in all contexts.

Jim tended to get bored easily and do things like face-plant in the couch for hours at a time, wrinkling his suit. It didn't seem to annoy Jim, but it annoyed Seb. Especially when Seb reminded him that he had work to do and Jim whined about how it was "dull and idiotic work."

Seb had dropped by his and Becca's flat every day since he'd left to tell her about how annoying Jim was. She didn't seem to mind his ranting.

It was Thursday night. Jim had been out for about an hour. Seb had no idea what he was doing, but he didn't particularly care.

Seb heard someone at the door struggling to unlock it. Whoever it was, his or her hands must have been shaking badly due to the scratching metal-against-metal noises. Whoever it was succeeded in opening the door and walked inside. The door shut heavily.

"Jim, that you?" Seb called.

Jim giggled.

"Yeah," he answered, walking to open Seb's door.

"Goddamnit," Seb muttered, walking over before Jim could struggle to open it as well.

Jim fell onto Seb. Seb barely caught him under his arms.

Jim giggled again. His face was pressed into Seb's chest.

"You smell nice," he giggled.

Seb rolled his eyes and began pulling Jim out of his room. Jim's feet seemed to have stopped working. He dragged them on the ground.

Seb pulled Jim to his own room, opened the door with his elbow, and threw Jim onto his bed. He landed facedown and made no attempt to move.

"Okay, now go to bed," Seb instructed.

"But I don't wanna!" Jim whined, his voice muffled.

"I swear to G—," Seb muttered. He sat Jim up on his bed, grabbed his nearly-folded pajamas from beside his pillow and began pulling Jim's suit jacket off.

Jim giggled again, twitching away from Seb's touch.

Seb rolled his eyes. He pulled Jim's jacket off over his shoulders and threw it to the side. Jim looked even smaller without his suit jacket on.
Jim reached out and grabbed Seb's tie and yanked him forward. To stop himself from failing onto Jim, Seb threw his arms forward to catch himself. One of his hands landed on Jim's thigh. Jim smiled, his face too close to Seb's for Seb to be comfortable. Seb immediately went to move his hand away, but Jim put a hand over Seb's, making it stay there.

"Don't stop," Jim whispered, moving his mouth close to Seb's ear. "It's turning me on."

Seb could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"That's why I'm trying to stop," Seb protested, pulling his hand out from underneath Jim's.

Jim pulled Seb even closer and put his free hand behind Seb's back, around his waist.

"Piss off," Seb spat, not trying his hardest to get away.

Jim laughed, ignoring him.

"Why are you man-spreading so much?" Seb asked.

"Sorry, does that make you... uncomfortable?" Jim asked. He swung one of his legs onto the bed, letting his ankle hang off the edge.

"Jim, stop," Seb said, pulling Jim's hand away from his tie.

"But Seb..." Jim whined, trying to push Seb forward through the hand around his waist.

"I never gave you permission to call me that!" Seb exploded. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He opened it, pressing it against Jim's throat.

"Shit," Jim muttered, pulling away from Seb and leaning back on his elbows. "That's really hot."

"Get your Goddamn pajamas on," Seb spat.

When Jim didn't react fast enough, Seb spoke again.

"Now!" Seb shouted, gesturing with the switch blade toward Jim's pajamas.

Jim backed away, moving his legs out of their suspicious position. He stumbled away from Seb and began unbuttoning his shirt, his shaking hands struggling with it.

Jim giggled again, easily getting distracted with whatever was in his head.

"You're threatening me to get me to strip in front of you," Jim giggled.

"Shut the hell up," Seb said, still holding his knife out in front of him. Jim didn't stop smiling, but he kept struggling to unbutton his shirt. He pulled it off. To Seb's surprise, Jim wasn't as skinny as he looked. Not that Seb cared.

Jim pulled his pajama shirt over his shoulders, ruffling his already untidy hair in the process. He pushed his pants down. Seb was glad he was leaving his boxers on. Jim pulled his plaid pajama pants up and curled up above his blankets, clearly trying to act passive.

Seb pulled the blankets out from underneath him and threw them over him.

"You get out of bed, I slit your damn throat," Seb threatened, standing over him.

"Can you tuck me in?" Jim asked.

"No!" Seb shouted, disgusted at the thought of it.

Jim sighed.

"Goodnight," he said.

"What good night?" Seb asked, beginning to walk out. He refused to give Jim any friendly behavior. He wanted Jim to demote him back to head of staff because he believed Seb to be a bitch and was sick enough of him that he didn't want to see Seb around anymore.

Seb put his switchblade away, tucking it back into his suit jacket. He turned Jim's light off and shut the door quietly. He walked a couple doors over to the bathroom they shared and stared at himself in the mirror. He even looked like he'd been harassed. His hair was messy and sticking up in random places. His tie was loosened far beyond what it should have been.

Seb untied his tie slowly, his energy gone. He threw it down onto the bathroom counter and leaned forward onto his arms, burying his face in his hands.

"I hate this so Goddamn much," Seb muttered. "I think I'm in hell."