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It’s early on in the establishment of what Jim will later deem his empire, early enough that Jim isn’t quite yet able to avoid getting his own hands dirty. He’s got several men working for him, true and while they’re well-versed in smuggling, slicing throats, and dealing drugs, most of them aren’t very competent in the area of actual negotiations.
That leaves Jim to take care of it himself and there aren’t many he’d trust to take with him. Truthfully, he doesn’t trust any of the men who work for him, but there is one who is as close as he’s ever going to get to it.
Even then, he doesn’t let Sebastian come with him; he makes the man wait several blocks away with orders only to make an appearance if Jim doesn’t return by the appointed time. It’s a mistake he won’t make again in the future.
They’re fenced in on three sides by walls, buildings closing in around them and a couple of large men are blocking the only free direction. The negotiations go sour quickly, mostly because the dumb brute of a gang leader is too stupid to understand the finer points of Jim’s plan and has no grasp of subtlety.
The first strike lands hard across his face and the sharp crack brings tears to his eyes as blood starts to gush from his nose. He lashes out, swinging his own fist in retaliation. Even if it had landed, it wouldn’t have done much damage to the brick wall of a man, but he doesn’t get the chance to find that out. Two of the men from the alley entrance seize him by the arms and haul him backwards, pinning his arms against their thick chests and leaving him wide open for attack.
Jim jerks against them, but it’s useless. His strength is in his mind, not in his body and he doesn’t so much as budge them. Their leader smiles, a sick, slow grin that reminds Jim of a villain in children’s film. He cracks his knuckles and slips the band of metal over them, advancing on him slowly.
Jim snarls, spitting out blood that trickles down into his mouth , cursing the man, hissing out all the reasons that his gang is going to fall apart within the next year and they’ll all be in jail without Jim’s help.
He doesn’t rise to Jim’s baiting and steps up in front of him. Jim kicks out with one leg, trying to catch the man in the groin, but only succeeds in having one of his arms twisted roughly behind him and a receiving a sharp kick to the back of his knee that makes his leg collapse under him.
“You pretty stupid, kid, for a genius,” The man bares his teeth in a mockery of a grin and Jim wants to kick him in his remaining teeth. He is not a fucking kid, he’s twenty fucking five and he’s been running operations for eleven years now. He doesn’t need this washed out meat bag thinking he’s better than him. Jim spits a mouthful of blood directly into the man’s face.
The man’s face is deadly calm as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. He reaches out and grips Jim’s jaw tightly, holding his head in place. His eyes slide up and down the length of Jim’s body.
“You got a pretty mouth, kid,” Jim tries to jerk his head away but the grip on his face is tight, “Shame what’s about to happen to it,” Still holding Jim’s face in an iron grip, the man slams his fist into Jim’s jaw; the brass knuckles wrapped around his fingers split the skin and send pain erupting across his skin. His teeth rattle and the entire world spins in mad circles, covered in bursts of light.
Jim barely has time to think about what a mistake it was to come alone before the second punch lands squarely in his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs and causing his legs to curl underneath him in a weak attempt to protect his body.
“I’m gonna fuck you up, kid. Teach you to mess with the wrong man,” The glare that Jim gives him is murderous and promises that this man is going to pay in every way that Jim’s twisted mind can come up with. Assuming that he survives what the man is about to do to him.
--
Sebastian meanders aimlessly along the road, kicking the odd pebble while he waits for the right time to show up to Jim’s meeting. He thinks it’s foolish and flat out stupid for him to have gone alone but his mass amounts of confidence about his ability to handle anything is one of the things that drive people to him like flies to honey.
He checks his watch for the tenth time in the past five minutes and decides that it’s close enough to the correct time. If nothing else, he can pretend to be a staggering drunk who happens to stumble upon their meeting. He checks that his pistol is tucked into the back of his trousers; he won’t use it if he doesn’t have to, no sense in drawing attention with the sound of it, but his guns are his safety blanket and he wouldn’t dare go out without one.
Sebastian angles himself back towards the meeting place of the group, and as he draws closer his pace picks up when the muffled sounds of shouting reach his ears. He breaks into a full out sprint when the sounds become clear enough that Sebastian can tell for certain that it’s the sound of someone in pain.
When he rounds the corner, he can see that Jim is pinned against one man’s chest while another stands in front of him, clearly debating where to strike next. A third man, presumably the leader, leans against the opposite wall, face painted with sick delight while he rubs the heel of his hand against his groin.
“How about you knife him, Dav? Bleed the kid like veal,” Sebastian snarls in rage, because no one is allowed to hurt Jim and it’s his fucking job to make sure of that. Sebastian charges forward to knock the man away, but he’s a split second to slow, the short knife flashes in the man’s hand and buries itself in Jim’s side before he reaches him. Jim lets out an oddly strangled cry and Sebastian collides with the attacked and sends him crashing to the ground.
He makes the decision in a split second, but that’s the reason Jim keeps him around and a quick hand to the man’s chin and the other to the back of his head and the man’s head is twisted to the side with a sharp crack! that guarantees the man won’t be getting up again.
The man holding Jim’s chest, clearly frightened by the sudden appearance of Sebastian, throws the smaller man to one side and takes off sprinting. Sebastian is about to give chase when the leader, dives forward and grabs the knife from his fallen ally’s hand.
Sebastian is up on the balls of his feet, crouched in a defensive position immediately. He spares a quick glance to Jim, relieved to see that he’s moving, even if it’s just squirming in pain. The ring leader doesn’t waste the advantage and dives in with the knife, aiming to sink it into Sebastian’s chest. Sebastian leaps back and barely out of the way. The man starts swinging wildly and Sebastian throws up his arms to fend off the strikes, protecting his body from the worst of it at the cost of his arms which become steadily more littered with scratches and gouges.
It’s not long before Sebastian decides that there’s no point to trying to win with pure strength alone and he goes for his natural defense. The gun is quickly retrieved from his waistband and level at the man’s head.
“On your fucking knees. Now,” he growls. The man freezes, watches Sebastian’s face for any sign that he wouldn’t actually shoot, and then slowly lowers himself down, hands above his head, the knife held loosely in one.
Sebastian stretches out his hand, “Knife,” The leader’s grip tightens on the knife and his face darkens, but his glare can’t compete with the barrel of cold steel staring him down and he holds it out.
“Thank you,” Sebastian takes the knife and relaxes his posture slightly, pointing the gun away from him. The man visibly sags with relief. He doesn’t have chance for his expression to change again before Sebastian buries the knife in the side of his neck and yanks it to one side, sending a spray of blood gushing from the man’s neck to both Sebastian and the concrete.
Sebastian pulls the knife free and wipes his bloody hands on his trousers and moves quickly to Jim’s limp body. He rolls him over gently and feels a sense of relief when he sees his boss is still conscious. Jim’s eyes flicker to the not inconsiderable amount of blood coating Sebastian’s arm and lower half and his lips twist into a strange parody of a grin, revealing teeth bright red with blood as he makes an odd huffing noise that might be laughter.
He’s carefully pulled into a sitting position and Sebastian takes a quick stock of the more noticeable injuries. There’s the knife wound, it’s bleeding sluggishly and it’ll need stitches but it’s low and to one side, missing any vital organs. One arm is obviously dislocated from its socket and hanging at a strange angle, easy fix; there’s visible bruising starting to blossom on Jim’s face around his likely broken nose but it’s hard to see with the smears of blood painting his face. He’s sure there are morebruises under his clothes but this isn’t the place to check.
“Do you think you can walk, boss? We have a safe house set up not far from here,” Sebastian asks carefully as his fingers brush Jim’s cheek, checking how bad the bruising is. Jim’s lips move in response and he makes an odd noise, but the rest of his mouth doesn’t want to comply. He settles for nodding and Sebastian adds Jim’s jaw to the list of injuries to check.
Sebastian pulls out his mobile and sends a quick message for a cleanup crew to come take care of the two bodies. He doesn’t mention Jim’s status because nobody needs to see Jim likes this. Not that this look is a bad one on Jim. His boss’s eyes have drifted shut and Sebastian allows his eyes to rake across Jim. Covered in blood and bruises and Sebastian can’t help the way his trousers feel tighter when Jim lets out a quiet moan of pain.
He pushes the feeling down and takes a hold of Jim’s free arm, using it to pull the man to his feet and then wrapping it around his own waist. At nearly eight inches taller than Jim, over the shoulder isn’t quite going to work. He starts to move forward when he realizes this isn’t going to work either. There’s brief moment of debate before he scoops Jim up easily into a bridal style carry and he ignores the sound that Jim makes expressing how undignified this position is. But Jim doesn’t try to squirm out of his grip and it’s easier this way, especially when his boss is so light.
Keeping to back streets and unlit areas , Sebastian gets them to the safe house quickly, a small flat with a stock of medical supplies and extra weaponry, as well as a few days worth of food. He maneuvers Jim onto the small island in the kitchen that has been repurposed as an examination table; it’s got a thin padding on the top and there are straps for holding down unruly patients. He maneuvers Jim onto the table and makes sure he’s sitting upright before starting his check over.
After scrubbing his hands and arms free of blood, his first step is to check Jim over for bruises. He can’t get the man’s shirt off until he fixes his shoulder so Sebastian settles for taking a pair of kitchen shears to the shirt and cutting it off of Jim’s body, much to the other man’s displeasure, he liked that shirt. Sebastian points out that the shirt is blood stained, both from Jim’s blood and the shirt’s contact with Sebastian, but the look on Jim’s face says that only improved the quality of it.
He declares the majority of the wounds on Jim’s torso so be mostly superficial, barring the knife wound, which he slaps a bandage over until he can get around to stitching it up. The rest is just bruising, for which Sebastian is grateful, in part because he’s glad Jim’s injuries aren’t worse and in part because if he has to stare at Jim’s chest anymore, he might give in to the urge to lick the blood off of it.
Next, he turns his attention to why Jim can’t speak. He cleans the thick layer of blood from Jim’s face and a closer inspection of Jim’s face reveals that his nose isn’t actually broken, but his jaw is dislocated and he can’t move it enough to properly form words. He silently thanks the army for giving him the experience in field medicine as he carefully uses his thumbs to guide Jim’s jaw back in place, pointedly ignoring the distressed noises it draws out of Jim’s throat.
“Fuck,” is the first thing that comes out of Jim’s mouth once his jaw in repaired. He gives Sebastian a small nod that might be something close to a thank you.
“Don’t be happy yet, that needs to be bandaged shut for a while,” Sebastian holds up a long length of bandage and sets to work before Jim can protest, binding the man’s jaw shut tight. He thinks he really should set the bandage the proper way, easily removable in case Jim needs to vomit, but Sebastian decides he rather likes the way Jim looks, eyes glaring at him, dark with anger, mouth completely covered by bright white bandages, and completely unable to say a word.
This feeling only increases when Sebastian pops Jim’s dislocated shoulder back into place. Jim throws back his head, eyes clenched shut, and howls in pain, muffled against the material. The sound goes straight to Sebastian’s cock and his mind helpfully supplies him with the image of Jim bent over his desk, being fucked mercilessly by Sebastian and sobbing in pleasure around a gag.
He adjusts Jim to lay flat on the table and tries to fight back the thoughts of all the way he’d like to have Jim on his back.
Sebastian rifles through the medical supplies they have and pulls out a length of surgical thread and a needle before turning back to Jim. “We haven’t got any anesthetic. This is going to hurt a bit,” He hopes Jim can’t read the lie on his face. They have plenty of anesthetic, he just wants to see Jim hurting, sobbing in pain. Jim just glances at him and nods. It’s not the first time Jim has been injured and it likely won’t be the last; he’s all too familiar with being in pain.
Carefully pulling the hastily applied bandage away Sebastian measures out a good amount of thread and works it through the eye of the needle. He looks up to Jim before starting, “You ready?”
Jim adjusts himself on the table, shifting to a more comfortable position and wraps his fingers tightly along the edges before nodding. Sebastian presses the needle through the skin and almost immediately, Jim starts to squirm, trying to pull away from it. Sebastian halts the needles and pushes his hand flat against Jim’s stomach.
“Stop wiggling, you’re going to make it worse, Jim doesn’t move again, but pushes his head back against the table and lets out a low whine. Familiar with pain, yes. High pain tolerance, no, “Ready to try again?” There’s several moments of rough breathing before Jim nods again.
Sebastian gets the same result the second time, as soon as he starts to move the needle, Jim starts to whimper and push him away, “Jesus, fucking…” he trails off when he catches sight of the leather straps on the edge of the table. They’re there for a reason and they’ll be extremely useful to Sebastian in keeping Jim locked down into place while he works. Sebastian pulls the needle off the end of the thread and sets it aside to avoid any accidental stabbings while he adjusts the straps.
He’s rather surprised when Jim doesn’t protest as he tightens the strap across his chest. He’s watching him with a look that reminds him of a cornered animal but makes no more to stop him. He has to wonder if Jim is fully cognizant of what’s happening or if the pain is taking his mind elsewhere. He pulls the strap tight and doesn’t think about how good the leather looks pressing into Jim’s bare skin.
The next strap goes across Jim’s shins and Sebastian finds himself rather surprised when he moves to fasten the third restraint of Jim’s thighs. It seems that Jim’s been less bothered by Sebastian’s first aid than he’d first suspected, if the very prominent bulge in his trousers is anything to go by. Curious, Sebastian tries a quick experiment.
He slides one hand to Jim’s hip and digs his thumb into the unstitched wound. Jim cries out against the bandage and thrashes hard, but Sebastian watches the way he moves. He’s not actively trying to get away as he first thought, but his hips are rolling upwards and suddenly his writhing is even more deliciously obscene than before. He’d suspected Jim of masochism in the past given his habit of putting himself in dangerous positions, but hadn’t thought it quite to this degree.
“Jim,” He tries. Jim doesn’t acknowledge him at all and just twists his head to one side with a pitiful whimper. Sebastian licks his lips slowly, debating his options. He could easily step back, stitch Jim up and put the man to bed for the night, or he could keep pressing his fingers against Jim’s bloodied body, yank his trousers off and really take the man to bed.
His mind is still debating while his body apparently makes the decision for him. Without realizing it, one of his hands has drifted between Jim’s legs and palmed his cock through his trousers, kneading his erection and drawing low moan from him. That settles the matter quickly and he’s quickly up on the end of the table, unfastening Jim’s trousers and tugging them down as far as he can with the restraints still in place. There’s little response from Jim except for a quiet, unidentifiable noise and more wiggling against the restraints.
Sebastian watches Jim’s face intently as he presses his thumb hard into the slice of skin. The reaction is instantaneous, Jim’s eyes snap open, his breathing grows sharper, and his hips buck upwards. Sebastian drops his head and wraps his lips around Jim’s cock and god it’s good. His skin is soft and salty under his tongue and hot. He drags his lips slowly up and down the length of Jim, tongue teasing across the slit, licking away drops of pre-come and running his tongue around the crown.
Above him, Jim is twisting against the table, whimpering loudly and struggling against his restraints, fingers flexing and curling into tight fists. His hips rock up, pushing deeper into Sebastian’s mouth, fucking his mouth. Sebastian groans around Jim’s cock and swallows him down as deep as he can, taking his entire length into his throat until his nose is brushing the dark hairs at the base of his cock. The sounds of Jim’s fingernails scratching into the sides of the table and the high pitched noise that leaks out from behind the bandage say to Sebastian that Jim isn’t too opposed to this.
He pulls off of Jim’s cock and moves up, breathing heavily against Jim’s skin as he bites and licks his way up the man’s body. He hesitates a moment before throwing caution to the wind and thrusting his tongue into the wound. Teasing it open with his tongue and pulling at the edges with his teeth. The sound Jim lets out is a shriek, head pushes back, every muscle in his neck gone taut while his he thrashes, cock pressing against Sebastian’s chest and smearing pre-come across it.
He’s up Jim’s body in a second, teeth sinking into the inviting skin of his neck, adding yet another wound to Jim’s list for the evening. His back arches, pressing up against Jim’s chest and there are high pitched desperate noises coming from his mouth and Sebastian can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure. He’s not too sure that he cares anymore.
He licks at the blood that trickles from the wound and one hand drops to his own trousers, making quick work of the button and shoving them down along with his pants. He rolls his hips down and presses his cock against Jim’s. They both respond at the same time, Sebastian, with a low groan that sighs finally and Jim with a stifled gasp that could mean anything.
His hand wraps around both of their cocks and strokes them slowly while he mouths against Jim’s neck, “Fuck, Jim. Love the way you sound when you’re in pain,” He releases their cocks but doesn’t stop the steady roll of his hips, letting his hand wander to the worst of Jim’s bruises, pressing down on them and delighting in the shudders it sends running through Jim’s body.
A quick glance at Jim’s face shows that his eyes are barely open and his face is slack. It takes a quick press to the knife wound and Jim is jerked back into consciousness again, eyes snapping open but retaining their distant glassiness.
Sebastian nuzzles the side of Jim’s face, dropping kisses against his bandaged jaw, “Stay with me, darling. Want to hear the sounds you make when you come,” He nips sharply at the bandage and tugs it slightly with his teeth, “Is it as pretty as the sounds you make when you hurt?”
Jim makes a garbled noise behind the bandage and his eyes roll back for a moment. Sebastian rocks his hips harder, sliding his cock against Jim’s, thriving on the friction and letting his fingers scratch down Jim’s sides, digging into bruises and leaving bright red welts behind.
The howl that Jim lets out when he comes is almost identical to his screams of pain and it’s enough to bring Sebastian over with him, leaving both Jim’s stomach and Sebastian’s blood-stained shirt smeared with come. As soon as he’s finished, Jim’s head hits the table with a resounding thud. His eyes roll back and his head lolls to one side as his entire body goes limp. Sebastian nudges him slightly but there’s no response; Jim is gone, fully wrapped up in the bliss of unconsciousness.
Chuckling quietly, Sebastian presses a kiss against Jim’s forehead, “You are going to be absolutely enraged tomorrow.” He rolls off of Jim and the table and pulls his trousers back up into place. He licks Jim’s blood from his fingers and gives them both a quick cleanup before settling back down to restart Jim’s stitches now that he doesn’t have to worry about Jim’s wiggling.
“Frankly, I hope this makes you angry enough to try to fuck me into submission for revenge,” He smiles to himself, “That could be fun.”