thewebspinner:

[In the scheme of things, it doesn’t last long at all. Not because he tires himself out, or is done with it or anything, simply because Jim doesn’t let anyone get the better of him, not even himself. He can’t help the first few minutes, where it rattles out of him and makes him feel like he could actually be dying. If he’d had the foresight to get it out of the way while he was still alone, he might have toyed with the strangely numb feeling it leaves him with, but no.

He’s James Moriarty, (One of them,  anyway. One of many, apparently,) and he has, above all things, a personal reputation to uphold. It almost hurts to stop, with the way his breath lurches out of his chest, but he quiets down, biting his lip, even if he doesn’t quite manage to stop the convulsions entirely, not for a while yet. When he does, he finally falls still and silent again, save for a tiny, almost defeated little sigh.]

[ With Jim there are only extremes, fear or anger or adrenaline or utter, rapturous pleasure. It’s fear, again, colouring Sebastian’s actions. He’s afraid that if he lets go Jim is going to walk into the night and never reappear, disappear so cleanly and so thoroughly that even Sebastian Moran will never be able to track him down, use his own hated doubles as bait and dead ends.

So he doesn’t. He curls his arms if at all tighter, molds himself against the man even knowing that Jim hates how utterly warm he is most of the time, presses his nose against the man’s skull and grazes his teeth over the bruises he left on Jim’s neck yesterday.]

You already know how I feel, Jim.

[In all his years, turning fear to anger- or at least the illusion of anger- had been one of the first defenses he had learned, so that was how he sounded: hard and angry. But Jim was the smartest man on the goddamn planet as far as Sebastian was concerned and also the best at recognizing what made people tick, so he didn’t doubt that Jim could hear the fear either, or the raw pain.

Just one go, to get it out of his system, he’d been stupid not to think of how Jim would react, distracted. Yes, he was very much at fault, but there was paying for your mistakes and there was dying for them.]

It was fucking dragged out of me and you only laughed, then. You said you already knew, so why don’t you know now? A goddamn bodybag, even if you’re the one to put me in it. Even if you make me put myself in it. That’s the only fucking way.