MorMor NO REGRETS

"Yeah, yeah... completely fine." he murmured, starting to sway again. He didn't feel fine. But he didn't want Jim knowing that. Sebastian tried walking over to the couch to sit down but suddenly collapsed and he tried to reach for something to hold him up but nothing was within reach and he fell to the ground, hurting himself again. He grabbed onto the chair and tried pulling himself up again but couldn't manage it.
"I can't... get up." he panted, now worn out from the effort of trying to stand up. Sebastian had made himself dizzy again.
He sat there uselessly and looked up at Jim for help. He wasn't quite sure if Jim would help him or not. Jim didn't look like he was in the position to be helping anyone.

The consulting criminal sighed.
"You're lucky I like you, Seb."
He stooped to put an arm around the other man--lift with your legs Jim--and stood up. "Alley-oop, Tiger." He heaved Sebastian over to the couch. "Guess you weren't ready to stand up after all." He lowered Seb to the seat--but the arm 'round his shoulders pulled him down too, leaving him pressed against the sniper.
He tried to get up--but Seb was sitting on the corner of his shirt. "Why, I didn't know you felt this way, Seb." He said, dryly.

((I hope you don't mind this actually heading into slash. XD))

Sebastian rested his head on Jim, hardly able to make himself move. He wasn't even going to make himself or try. The heat coming from Jim was warming him up a bit and he refused to let go, not caring if he was getting Jim covered in blood by doing this. Sebastian was practically covered with blood anywhere possible and half of it was ending up on Jim's clothes as well.
He started mumbling things under his breath, not quite sure what he was saying himself. The dizziness was starting to go away again. The nausea had made him feel weird and he never realised what he was doing until he came round again and saw how close he was to Jim. He opened his mouth to say something but absolutely nothing seemed to be coming out so he shut it and stared at Jim, not too sure what to do.

"Bloody hell, Sebastian. Literally. Bloody. Dear christ, you realize I'll never be able to wear this shirt again?" Jim breezed over the fact that he was still pressed into Sebastian's side. "Thank god that's not leaking yet." He pointed at Seb's bandage. Seb laughed weakly, clearly nervous.
"Can y' nae get up, love?" He whispered, brogue strengthening. "You're shivering, too. I do hope you aren't in shock."

"I'm in a bit of a shock from falling. I wasn't expecting it. But I'm just cold, that's all." he mumbled against Jim's chest, still not moving. Sebastian then nestled his head into Jim's neck, breathing heavily. He was surprised Jim hadn't shoved him away and gotten up yet. It seemed like the normal thing for him to do. Although Seb wasn't giving him much room or an actual chance to get up.
He ignored Jim about his shirt, not even listening to him complain about how it would be stained. He was too busy thinking about how close they were and why none of them hadn't done anything about it yet.

Acutely conscious of the fact that what they were doing would most accurately be labeled as 'snuggling', Jim was even more aware of the fact that he didn't want to move. He continued to whine about stains in his carpeting and clothing and Seb's ruined trousers, while more of his mind focused on the fact that his gunman's breath was slowing, becoming less pained, and it was fucking ticklish on his neck.
Yet, he still felt no great urge to push Seb away.
He almost thought he should, though, just to keep up appearances.
Not that he could really get up anymore. Not only was Seb's leg pinning down his trousers, his arm was trapped around the other man's shoulders. And, while he was fairly sure it would not be too much of a strain to get up and leave, he, again, didn't want to. Which puzzled him, as well as the fact that his anger had dissipated once he'd gotten a look at Seb's leg--into worry.
Jim's particular method of unraveling puzzles followed a stepped process.
Step One: Identify the problem.
Step Two: Figure out what is causing the problem.
Step Three: Figure out how to solve the problem.
Usually followed by Step Four: Destroy Fix the problem.
Jim was having mild trouble with Step One. What problem?
Tonight was just full of surprises.

Sebastian ignored Jim once again, not listening to his whining and complaining. That's all he ever seemed to do unless he was in a cheerful mood. Or he was just annoyed and angry. Jim did tend to take a lot of mood swings at different times and there was no way to tell when they would happen. And most of them never turned out well.
Sebastian's breathing was coming back to its usual pace and it seemed to be the only thing warm about him. Although Jim had warmed him up from the body heat. He still seemed to be shaking though. In a way, he couldn't stop himself from shaking.
He could see the puzzled look on Jim's face and obviously he must have been thinking about something. Sebastian said nothing, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. He didn't think it would be a very smart or wise thing to do. So he remained silent.
It was quiet in the flat, no conversation looked as if it was going to happen. And it was slowly becoming darker. Still, none of them were getting up to turn a light on or even switch the TV on for background noise. Sebastian decided to move a bit, now giving room for Jim to take his arm back.

Jim's jaw tightened. He could move his arm now. It was what Seb would expect him to do. Which was precisely why he would not move. Keep Seb on his toes.
Yeah. That was why he wasn't moving.
One hundred percent.
"Feeling better, Seb?" He asked after a while. "Want another drink? Probably not a good idea." He answered himself.
Silence descended again.
Jim was beginning to hate silence. There was entirely too much airspace to be filled with the smell of sweat--not yet dried and disgusting--and body heat and the sound of Seb's breathing and the feel of his pulse. It was really very distracting having Seb curled up next to him. Very distracting.
God damn it.

Sebastian lay there, expecting Jim to have gotten up by now. He was surprised Jim didn't even move at all. Why wasn't he getting up? Sebastian was feeling even more awkward by this point and he was relieved when Jim finally decided to break the silence between them both.
"Feeling slightly better, the pain has ceased at least. And no, I don't think another drink would be a very good idea." he laughed gently, his voice still hoarse.
Sebastian still seemed to be waiting on Jim to move and get up and quite some time had passed now. The tension in the atmosphere only seemed to get even awkwarder and Sebastian started drumming his fingers on his thigh, realising how much of a mess he really looked.
His trousers were ripped, hair tousled and messy like always. He never took as much care with his hair like Jim did. He was never bothered to do so. And also, the blood stains were most obvious to see. It was impossible to miss it. Seb's whole shirt was covered and he'd need to get washed.

Silence is only as awkward as one makes it.
And god but this silence was awkward.
He glanced at Seb's head. ...his hair was so messy. It hadn't bothered him before, as he'd been focused on the leg, but now it had begun to bother him. Usually it had the look as though Seb had just rolled out of bed--which, he was certain, what actually went on, hair-care wise--but now it was truly, heinously messy. With a small noise of frustration, he reached across with the hand not around Seb and tugged on a few locks, putting them back into place.
Perhaps a finger erred to do what might best be termed 'petting'.
Perhaps not.

Sebastian flinched as Jim tugged at his hair, not having expected that. He had went off into a daydream and only came out of it when Jim had started fixing his hair. It was annoying him although he didn't dare say. An argument would only break out and it wouldn't end well. Seb kept his mouth shut, trying not to complain but he couldn't help turning his head away to the side, hoping Jim would realise he didn't like it.
He didn't really mind. In fact, it was rather relaxing. Just the tugging annoyed him.
"I think I'll need to get washed." he mumbled, looking down at himself and pulling at his dampened shirt. Somehow his hair even had bits of blood in it.

"Do you really think you're in any shape to be standing up in a shower, Seb? If you pass out I'll not be able to help you." Jim said breezily. "I'm not giving you a sponge bath, I hope you know. Nursing is one thing I am utterly unsuited to." He finished fixing Seb's hair with a small rake through the front of it, then brushed the result out of the sniper's eyes. Then he tried to force the image of Sebastian in the shower out of his head. Not that it was there to begin with.

"I'm sure I'll be fine now. I need to get washed though, I'm covered in blood. And I'm getting more uncomfortable lying in these clothes. I need changed and washed Jim."
Sebastian made an attempt to get up again but Jim seemed to be holding him down with his leg. Seb said nothing and lay back again, feeling awkward once more.
It didn't look as if Jim was going to take the risk of letting him get a shower. He knew Jim was right. It was a bad idea. And he wouldn't be getting any help from Jim is he collapsed again. But he could look after himself.
He decided not to complain for the best and started drumming his fingers again, a sign showing he didn't know what to do or say.

"Seb, do you know I was actually worried about you?" Jim asked softly, deciding to come out with it. Everything seemed so calm. Why shouldn't he say it? "When I saw your leg, I mean." He used the hand that had been fixing Seb's hair to push his head back a little. "Honestly worried. I should hate to lose you, Seb. You're a good gunman and you're probably the closest thing to a friend that I've got." He finished even quieter than he'd started, embarrassed now.
Professor James Moriarty was cold and brilliant and he didn't say things like that.
Where the hell had he gone? Clearly he wasn't running this show.
Professor James Moriarty, please get back in here and cut this crap?
Oh, hell.

Sebastian stared at Jim, hardly believing what he was hearing. Jim had been worried about him? It wasn't as if Jim was being sentimental towards him, that wasn't likely. He wasn't that type of guy. Sebastian didn't think he'd ever heard anything like that come out of Jim's mouth ever. This was a first.
He could tell Jim was embarrassed, he had gone slightly red. This was a totally different Jim, especially after earlier. Jim never blushed. Sebastian couldn't help but smile, amused by this.
"I don't think you're going to lose me, I'm not going anywhere. I wouldn't really want to go anyway. I enjoy my job, you know that. I've been injured lots of times and nothing bad has happened. And besides, I learned from the best." he grinned, keeping his eyes on the other man's flushed face.
It made him smile, seeing Jim differently. He wasn't used to it and it felt nice to see a bit of a change for once. It was definitely better than seeing him angry or annoyed. He kept his eyes fixed on Jim, appreciating the moment.

"What're you bloody smiling at?" Jim snapped, feeling himself go even redder. "Of course I'm the best." He took his arm out from behind Seb, waging a lightning-fast internal battle with himself.

God. Damn. He's handsome when he smiles.

No, Jim.

But it's really quite--

No, Jim. He works for you. Besides, he's not that handsome. He's got that huge scar.

Adds character.

Jim.

Sebastian's face immediately went expressionless. He didn't want to make Jim angry. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Jim going redder only made him want to smile again. The sides of his lips were twitching into a half smile and he had to fight with himself to stop or else it would annoy Jim even more. Just stop smiling.
Seb turned his head away, not wanting him to notice. It was clearly obvious he was trying to hide himself from smiling. And he knew Jim wasn't that stupid.
Jim was a criminal mastermind. Mastermind. He wasn't stupid at all. He had the brains and could fix possibly any problem. He had gotten away with many things and Sebastian always got directions and orders from him.
Seb practically needed him. He did need Jim. He just couldn't make himself admit it. He wasn't sure if he had feelings for him or not. Sebastian cared for him like a friend, that was it. And it would stay that way. But his mind didn't want to believe that and his conscience just argued with that fact. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure what exactly he wanted. Not right now anyway.

Confusion and silence reigned in the room and holy hell his leg was still touching Seb's. He concentrated hard on making his face become its proper color again--an effort largely wasted--and devoted the remaining percentage of his brain to running through his process again and again.
Jim had always been a man who could see all the paths from a situation--an excellent quality when one had the job he did. Where everyone else saw one or two ways something could play out, Jim saw thousands. Unfortunately, far too many of the paths that were going through his mind ended in bed.
Or in the shower.
Seb really did need to wash up.
Clearly washing was the only thing that was happening at the end of the paths tagged 'shower'.
Well, kissing him could hardly hurt.
...
What in hell was he thinking?!
Professor James Moriarty definitely needed to get his act together.
"Seb!" He said, louder than was necessary, "Let me get you some water. And something to eat." He jumped up, avoiding looking at the gunman as much as humanly possible. "Then we can try to see about getting you clean."
Well, you are being the little helper tonight, aren't you? Observed a nastily sane voice in his head.
Fuck off, you.

((I feel the need now to inform you that my headcanon song for MorMor is Bang by the Armchair Cynics. Because I was listening to it on repeat while writing this.))

Sebastian jumped when Jim shouted his name, not sure what he had done wrong or why Jim had shouted. Jim seemed hyper, or possibly nervous. Sebastian couldn't tell. It was hard when trying to read Jim. His emotions and thoughts were always kept to himself. A secret.
He stared up at him speechless, thinking Jim was now going crazy. I suppose this was just normal for him. He was just being his usual insane self. Sebastian nodded at the suggestion of some food and water. When was the last time he had actually eaten? Hours ago.
The thought of food made his mouth water, he now realised how famished he really was. And his mouth was also dry.
A shower was also a good idea. Sebastian definitely needed washed. He realised he'd have to take his bandage off to wash the wound. He regretted possibly having to look at it again. It really was a gruesome sight.
He shook this thought away, concentrating on Jim again. Jim seemed to be bouncing around on the spot. What's the matter with him?. God knows what was going on in his head.
Sebastian sat up and kept his gaze on Jim, watching his every movement. He'd probably taken something when he had been out finishing that job off. Maybe something in his drink? Jim was definitely not himself tonight.

Oh, how he wished he'd taken something. Preferably to mellow him out: Anger to worry to what seemed to be rampant lust was just a bit too swingy for the comfort of his mood. He bounced on the balls of his feet while he stood still to make a sandwich--he could feel the tension in his back and his clothes felt oddly too small. He poured a glass of water for Seb and some more wine for himself because god help me I need it, and walked back over to the couch--which now had blood on it, thanks to their clothes good god the cleaning bill was going to be astronomical.
He sat stiffly--on another cushion from Seb, thank you very much-- and passed him the plate with the sandwich on it and set the water on the table. He had to lean over Seb to do that, and he could feel the sniper's eyes boring into his back.
You could have him, you know.
Or he could have you.
Whatever you prefer.
Jim mentally beat down the irritating voices.
He sat back up, careful to relax his position so as not to give away the tension--too late, doofus-- and looked at Seb.

Sebastian looked at Jim concerned. Maybe he should do something... he wasn't sure. What was he to ask?
Are you all right?
No, that would just be really stupid.
Of course he's all right. It's just Jim. He's just naturally insane.
He decided to turn his attention to the food and water, finishing the sandwich within two minutes, followed by the water afterwards. He really had been hungry. Maybe starving was a better way to put it.
Sebastian picked up the plate and glass, deciding to clean up after himself. Although, he had enjoyed Jim slaving around after him. In a way, he had felt in charge for once. But he couldn't get used to it because it would never last. Jim was boss. Not him.
He stood up cautiously, retaining his balance. After resting and actually eating and drinking something he felt perfectly fine again which was a relief. Sebastian hadn't liked the nausea very much. He wasn't swaying any more although he did have a very stiff walk.
He returned from the kitchen back to the living room and sat down again, being careful he didn't whack his leg off something. It was getting rather hard to see anything now as it was late and dark outside, leaving the flat in darkness. No lights were on. And There was still an eerie silence between both men, neither of them speaking.

Jim looked down to realize that his leg was bouncing. Nervous twitch.
Professor James Moriarty doesn't get nervous.
Yeah, yeah. Fuck. Off. 'Professor James Moriarty' was curiously absent, so what Jim did with his body hardly seemed relevant. It was getting dark in the room, and now that Seb had finished his food--Jim momentarily contemplated asking if he wanted more, but decided that he'd been Seb's gopher long enough--there seemed to be nothing to do or say.
You could always kiss him. Still a valid option.
...JIm was going to murder something.
"Well, as you've been able to walk over there, we could try you with a shower. I mean, you can go take a shower. 'We' are not involved in your shower."
Sweet how you're babbling, Jim.
His ears felt hot again.

((SEB, THE VOICES THINK YOU'RE SEXY.))
((Also, sexual tension squid is drowning in sexual tension.))

Sebastian nodded slowly, listening to Jim constantly babbling on and on. He definitely wasn't himself tonight.
"Uh... right, the... um... shower." he mumbled, not quite sure what else he was supposed to say.
You could ask him to join you.
What the hell was he thinking? Jim was his boss. Sebastian had worked for him for longer than he could remember. As if Jim would ever agree to something like that.
He said he liked you earlier.
No, that meant nothing. He liked Seb working for him. Sebastian was positive that, that was what he had meant. Nothing more.
Go on, ask him. You know you want to.
No, shut up.
He's sitting right there.
Piss off.
He's kinda cu...
"Shut up!" he shouted, immediately cupping one hand over his mouth. He had been arguing with his own mind. God, I'm so stupid. Sebastian looked towards the floor, playing with his fingers. He blushed a bit, embarrassed at himself. He wasn't thinking straight. You're in shock. It's just the nausea. The nausea, right. He thought he had gotten past that stage.
Now you've done it.

Jim whirled at Seb's voice in time to see the gunman clap his hands to his mouth and look straight at the floor. 'Shut up'? He'd already replied to Jim, and he wasn't nearly foolish enough to tell his boss to 'shut up', in any case. He snickered. Who was blushing now?
"Well, I do hope you weren't talking to me." He said, smirking and pretending that everything was normal. "And yes, Seb. Showers are what people take when they're covered in blood and dirt." He modified his voice so that it sounded as though he were talking to a child. "Why don't you limp over to the shower and try to remember how to wash yourself. I'll replace the bandage after. And do make it quick. Don't want you passing out and hitting your head on a wall."
He paused.
"Funny as that would be." He finished.
Normal. He sounded normal.
Look at that flying pig!
...Stupid little voices.

"No, I didn't mean for you to shut up. Of course not. I was just... talking to myself. Sorry." he murmured, still keeping his eyes on the floor.
Sebastian took in Jim's advice and just decided that getting a shower at the minute would be best, now that it was getting late.
Ask him.
The voice was still there, buzzing around in his head. It was irritating and the reason he had shouted, making Jim think Seb was telling him to shut up. Which really wasn't supposed to happen.
He stood up and made his way towards the bedroom, wanting to get some clothes first to wear for when he came out of the shower. He just liked to be always organised.
After, he made his way back out of the bedroom and stood, holding his bloodied shirt and the clothes he would be changing into.
"Is there anywhere in particular I should put this?" he asked, showing Jim the shirt from across the room. He wanted to know Jim's answer, just in case he set it somewhere and Jim didn't appreciate it. He didn't want him becoming angry again.
Nearly Sebastian's whole chest and back were covered in blood from it seeping through his top. He was happy to have it off, it didn't feel so sticky and uncomfortable any more. He watched Jim, waiting on the answer. It still looked as if he was thinking and didn't really hear him.