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Both men smiled at each other sadistically and pulled the knives out. The man in the closet begged not to be killed, but Seb dragged him out by his legs and they got to work,slicing and cutting at the flesh, holding the man down so they could brutally kill him. By the time they were done, they were both covered in blood, breathing heavily and smiling at each other.

"Fun?" Jim asked.

"Definitely." Seb responded, smirking. They made their way to the front door of the house, pouring a trail of gasoline as they went. Jim then struck a match, letting the whole house go up in flames. Once they were back in the car, Jim's mood instantly changed. He stopped smiling, and became quiet.

"Jim? You okay?" Seb asked.

Within seconds, Jim had his hands wrapped around Sebastian's throat, choking him until he could barely breathe. Sebastian didn't push him off, even though he probably could have. It wasn't like Seb wanted to make it worse for himself.

Sebastian found it hard to understand that they weren't friends. He had thought they were. They were just two people who worked together. The boss and his sniper. Jim eventually removed his hand from Seb's throat and sat back in his seat, arms crossed across his chest. Quiet. Angry.

The car parked in the drive and Sebastian got out, following Jim, who opened the door. Seb just stalked to his room, silently.

Getting piss fucking drunk seemed like a good idea to Sebastian. He opened up a bottle of beer from the mini fridge in his room, downing it. Then another. Then four more. Then a whole bottle of whiskey. He'd allowed himself to get too close, too protective, too emotional towards his boss. Why did his stupid feelings have to get in the way of things, again?

Sebastian couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He hated this, having feelings, thinking about the past. He couldn't stop thinking about the things his father had done, and Jim just reminded him of it. Why did he have to have fun with Jim? He should have just done his job, not had fun with Jim. God, he felt so stupid to think that Jim was his friend. He couldn't be friends with his boss. It just wouldn't work.

Sebastian punched the wall, screaming in frustration as he felt his knuckles break. He didn't know how to deal with anger. He just hit things and killed people. But those were a lot better than his old ways of shooting up heroin and taking cocaine. It was a lot better then cutting himself. He had tried so hard to stay off drugs, and he wasn't going to throw all of that away. He didn't care too much for living, but he didn't want to die either. And now his hand was swelling up and bleeding, and he felt like he'd fucked it all up again.

"Tiger, what have you done to yourself?" Jim's voice came from the doorway. Sebastian shrugged, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his shirt.

"I dunno. M'fucked up again." Seb slurred. Jim sighed, standing up to leave, but then Seb grabbed his wrist and that changed everything. Jim stopped, still, silent, shocked. He watched as Sebastian held him, not letting go. It was like both men were in a trance.

"Good god, Tiger! Your hands are freezing!" Jim exclaimed, pulling his arms away from Sebastian. It was true, his hands were cold, but Jim didn't want to deal with any sort of feeling he had for Sebastian. If you could even call it a feeling. He wanted to know him properly, get him to talk. He wanted someone he could talk to about the trauma of his childhood, and why he was like this now. But Jim couldn't. He didn't know how to bring it up. So he did what he did best- acting like he didn't give a damn.

"You need to sort yourself out. Do you think this is acceptable when you work for me?" Jim snapped.

"Don't care."

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