Psychopaths Can't Love

Richard Brooke

A/N: Hello again. It's been a bit. As in a few days, but still. Did you miss me? Sorry, I'll leave.

Crap's going down so I should focus. Good luck. This chapter is a roller coaster.

-Leah

Trigger warning: Jumpings/being jumped, murders, and mild injury.

Jim woke up in Seb's arms with his head under Seb's chin. Their legs were hopelessly tangled together.

Jim remembered how shitty it had been waking up on his own. To be honest, he would've rather slept in Seb's room than his own that night.

Seb's room smelled like him even long after he left and felt much more like home than Jim's room ever could.

Jim let Seb's smell flood into his system. That smell he'd missed so damn much. The smell of his sweat, of leather, and of fresh gunpowder. Jim nuzzled into Seb's neck, curling his arms closer to himself.

A quiet noise vibrated in Seb's throat.

"Mmmmm... you awake?" Seb asked. His voice was lower than normal, making Jim want to cuddle even closer to him.

"Sorry I woke you up," Jim whispered.

"Don't be. There's no better way to wake up than with you."

"You sap."

"Your sap," Seb corrected, squeezing Jim a little tighter.

"What did you want to do today?" Jim asked, trying to ignore how right it felt that Seb was saying he was Jim's again.

"Thought I'd take it easy for today," Seb sighed, his chest vibrating against Jim's with the long breath. "Not get another concussion, probably."

"Probably?" Jim asked, laughing quietly.

"I thought you didn't want me to go into another coma. I'm guessing you missed my voice?"

"Not really. It was nice having you shut up for once."

"Oh shut up; you missed me," Seb chuckled into Jim's hair.

Jim didn't reply. He pressed the side of his face against the base of Seb's neck, cuddling into him.

"...love you," Jim murmured against his neck.

"Love you too, kitten."

"...not a kitten."

"Yes you are."

Jim groaned, knowing Seb would never stop calling him "kitten".

"We should get a cat."

Jim didn't reply.

"What do you think?"

"Dunno."

"If you could pick any color of cat, what color would you pick?"

"I dunno!" Jim protested. "Maybe orange?"

"The proper term is ginger."

"That, I guess."

"What about a tortoiseshell?"

"What the actual hell is that?"

"It's black and white and orange."

"And it's a cat?"

"Yes, Jim. Would you want one?"

"I don't know!"

"Mkay!"