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Emergency Contact	By : RueRambunctious Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 1534 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any related adaptations (inc. Professor Moriarty) and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Jim's next nap would have lasted until bedtime if Sebastian had not woken the boy for the night's final dose of painkillers and antibiotics. Jim accepts them obediently, sleepily, and curls back up on the couch before Sebastian's even put the glass on the coffee table.

Sebastian is good at staying still and quiet for long bouts of time, and it comes in handy when Jim is still recovering like this. The moment Sebastian sits back down a half asleep Jim snuggles into him, and Sebastian can't deny that he enjoys having the drowsy brat fall asleep with his head on Sebastian's lap.

Sebastian rests one hand lightly on Jim's scalp, stroking the scruffy tufts of dark hair. Jim's skull is usually one of the only parts of the young man's body which is ever warm to the touch, heat escaping through the fine hair. Jim has cold hands, icy feet, and even his rump is often cool to the touch.

Sebastian feels blessed that he himself radiates heat. It seems to draw Jim, particularly in sleep, and Sebastian loves the proximity.

Jim shows no signs of waking, and it's getting late. The young man is slight and Sebastian is confident he can easily carry Jim up to bed, hopefully without breaking the boy's sleep.

Sebastian eases the limp arms around his warm thigh up to his chest slowly and lifts Jim onto his lap. Jim barely murmurs, his head dropping heavily to Sebastian's broad shoulder. Sebastian wraps his strong arms around Jim's back and thighs, standing slowly. Carefully.

Jim sleeps on.

Sebastian carries the sleeping brunette upstairs to bed. He doubts Jim weighs as much as sixty kilograms, maybe barely fifty, and it's bizarre because most of Sebastian's work equipment weighs more than this.

Sebastian pulls back the duvet and lowers Jim softly to the mattress. It's unfortunate the boy is not wearing his usual outfit of those scabby bottoms and nothing else, because they would be less uncomfortable to sleep in, or easier to remove.

Sebastian would rather not undress Jim, but those jeans are too heavy to sleep in and the thick shirt too warm.

Sebastian gingerly undoes the denim fly and eases the thick jeans down slowly, wondering if the brat ever bothers with underwear. Sebastian dumps the jeans on the floor, looks around for that oversized teeshirt, and retrieves it from the rim of the laundry basket.

The black buttons of the burgundy shirt are small, numerous and awkward to unfasten, the button holes stiff and new. It takes Sebastian a while to get them undone, and he's surprised at how heavily Jim sleeps. The slightest movement used to wake him.

It's difficult to get the shirt off without disturbing Jim too much; Sebastian eases him up towards Sebastian's chest and carefully tugs the shirt down over Jim's shoulders, utterly desirous of the sleeves not catching on Jim's bandages. They don't.

It's equally awkward to get a teeshirt over Jim's flopping head and arms, but somehow Sebastian manages. He perseveres mainly because he suspects Jim would find it unsettling to wake in bed naked with no recollection of getting there.

The palaver is more tiring than carrying the kid up the stairs, and Sebastian settles down beside the boy. Normally Jim always moves from his side of the bed, to the middle, to Sebastian's side, resting against or on top of Sebastian's chest. Tonight Sebastian encroaches on Jim's side a little.

As Sebastian wakes in the morning to Jim behaving in his usual limpet fashion, it can't have bothered Jim that much.

Jim is predictably a bit perplexed upon waking to find himself in bed wearing something different, but he's more interested in Sebastian being snuggled up on Jim's side of the bed. If Jim had woken thus in any other bed he would have been more concerned, but he doesn't need to catalogue the lack of pain in his head or rear and the lack of a bad taste in his mouth to know that Sebastian would never take such an advantage.

“What are you doing on my side of the bed?” Jim asks, leaning playfully towards Sebastian's ear and ignoring the uncomfortable pressure that puts on his painful chest.

Sebastian's clear blue eyes focus on him and his mouth stretches into an amused smile. “Since when is the whole bed not your side of the bed?”

Jim settles against Sebastian's chest, still ignoring the sting of his chest wounds. He smiles cheekily and tells Sebastian, “I'm glad you recognise the way things are.”

Sebastian puts his strong arms around Jim gently, spreading heat up Jim's lower back. “Oh, I do, Boss.”

Jim's lips twitch and his eyes burn in a way that makes Sebastian swallow.

Jim looks behind himself. “Good morning to you, too.”

Sebastian presses his eyes closed in frustration. “Oh, shut up. That look of yours probably works on everyone.”

“Scares a lot of people, actually,” Jim comments.

Sebastian glances at him for a moment. “I don't scare easily.”

“I've noticed,” Jim states. “So… Are you going to put that to use, or..?”

“It'll go away if you stop giving it attention,” Sebastian remarks dryly.

Jim squirms tauntingly, drawing attention instead to his minimal clothing. “What if I don't want to?”

“No sex for you; you haven't had breakfast,” Sebastian states, extracting himself from under the brat and heading downstairs.

Jim quickly follows. “Does that mean I can have it after breakfast?”

“It does not,” Sebastian denies archly.

Jim pads over to him with a wicked, playful expression. He presses against Sebastian's hip.

Sebastian sighs, making no move to push Jim away, but picking up a spoon and lightly tapping the brat's nose with it. “Daddy's going to have to spank you if you don't stop being such a tease,” he warns wryly.

Jim snickers. “You're Jeeves and you know it, 'Daddy.'”

Sebastian presses a quick kiss onto Jim's forehead, trying to ignore how the action stretches out Jim's grin by a few molars. “And you're still an unequivocal brat, Jimmy-Boy.”

Jim pulls back and makes a face. “Don't call me Jimmy.”

Sebastian keeps one arm around Jim as he starts to reach for breakfast items with the other. “Why not?”

“My Mam called me Jimmy,” Jim mutters.

“Did you give her as much trouble as you give me?” Sebastian asks, amused.

“I was a good boy,” Jim protests unconvincingly.

Sebastian ruffles Jim's hair as though the boy isn't practically a man. “Ah, so you're only bratty for your nursemaid slash butler?”

Jim leans up a little bit to rest his chin on Sebastian's shoulder. “Something like that.”

Sebastian sticks the tip of his tongue out in response. Straightening up so that Jim steps back from his shoulder, Sebastian declares, “There's a present for you beside the couch. Go look at that and let me make our breakfast.”

Jim gives a small, confused frown. “Present?” he repeats gruffly.

“You were too sleepy to get it last night, remember?” Sebastian explains.

“I didn't realise you went back out,” Jim murmurs, but extracts himself slowly and crosses over the floor to retrieve the bag.

There's an uncomfortable tightness in Jim's stomach as he lifts it up. He knows there is a new tracksuit inside, but there's still something surprising about the experience. He's not used to this.

Jim opens the bag with a guarded expression, trying not to look like he's affected.

There's a brand new black tracksuit inside with white stripes just like Jim's own, except this is legally bought and paid for, and isn't falling to bits. The zipper of the jacket is slightly open, proclaiming Jim's actual size and not the one he told Sebastian.

“Is it right?” Sebastian asks.

Jim nods quietly. He puts down the gift and trots over to Sebastian.

Sebastian glances up at him, bent over the oven grill. “Careful the fat doesn't spit at you,” he warns.

Jim doesn't move. Sebastian gives him a look and stands, nudging Jim over to a safer distance. “It's not just your legs that are bare,” Sebastian reminds Jim pointedly.

“Let me say thank you,” Jim blurts awkwardly.

“What?” Sebastian mutters, pushing Jim gently back a bit further and grabbing the oven gloves to retrieve the tray of crisp bacon. “This as dark as you want it?” Sebastian asks, putting the tray down.

Jim pulls Sebastian closer by the waistband and reaches for Sebastian's fly.

Sebastian quickly encloses his hands around Jim's thin wrists. “What are you doing?” he protests.

“I want to say thank you,” Jim repeats, tilting his chin upwards defiantly.

“It didn't come with strings attached,” Sebastian says firmly.

“Exactly,” Jim says pointedly.

Sebastian sighs. 'We've talked about this. For the next few days you're my guest not my whore, and I don't make my guests suck me off before breakfast.”

“You're not making me; I want to,” Jim declares.

“Duly noted, now go sit down,” Sebastian commands. “I need to feed you so you can have your tablets.”

“Then can I blow you?” Jim asks dryly.

Sebastian puts his large hands on either side of the young man's face. “Jim. Arty. Enough. That's not what you're for.”

“Then what am I for?” Jim demands.

“Not that,” Sebastian says firmly. “Now sit down before your food is cold, congealed and gross.”

“Sebastian...” Jim protests.

Sebastian pushes Jim onto a stool and quickly puts a bacon roll into the young man's hand.

“Sauce,” Jim says dully.

Sebastian fetches it patiently.

“I don't know how else to make you happy,” Jim sighs.

Sebastian presses his broad chest against Jim's narrow back and curls his arms loosely around him. “Jim,” he says warmly, “you make me happy just by being here.”

“But I don't contribute anything,” Jim protests.

Sebastian gestures to the decadent room. “Does it look like I ever want for anything?”

Jim makes an unconvinced noise.

Sebastian kisses the boy's ear. “Eat your breakfast.”

Jim sighs but brings the roll to his mouth. Sebastian fetches his own. “Still warm?” he asks.

Jim nods.

Sebastian lightly kisses the side of Jim's broad forehead, easing the frown there a little, and proceeds to eat.

After Jim has taken his medicine Sebastian stretches. “Come on,” he says. “Let's do your bandages.”

Jim follows, but having Sebastian touch him so closely and carefully makes the feelings worse, especially when his teeshirt is now spread over his naked lap.

Sebastian turns from disposing of the used bandages and leads Jim out of the bathroom. “Anything you want to do today?” he asks. “Get shoes maybe?”

“I've told you what I want to do,” Jim says pointedly, throwing the top back into the laundry basket.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well we're not doing that, I told you.”

“It's not taking advantage if I want to,” Jim insists.

“Put some clothes on, Jim,” Sebastian protests.

“But I'm good at it; you know I am. I don't have anything else to give you, but you know you'll like what I can do,” Jim blurts. “You will!”

“That's not the point, as I've said,” Sebastian states firmly.

Jim sighs, the tilts his chin in defiance. He trails his hand down to his cock and touches it slowly. His brows arch challengingly.

“Stop that; at least wait until I've left the room,” Sebastian complains.

Jim is blocking Sebastian's path downstairs. “I think this shows my clear consent,” Jim declares. “So I'll give you the choice: do you really want to leave, or do you want to watch? Do you want to join in?”

Sebastian's chest heaves as he inhales, then licks his suddenly dry lips. “That's not going to end well for you.”

“Why not?” Jim asks in a deliberately husky voice.

Sebastian indicates the lacerations all over Jim's abs. “They're going to hurt like a bitch when you thrust and cum.”

“How would you know?” Jim asks derisively, his hand not moving from his leaking shaft.

Sebastian sighs and bares his chest.

Jim stares hopefully.

“Come here,” Sebastian declares.

Jim obeys, and Sebastian gently swats Jim's hand from his member. Uncomfortably, Sebastian states, “Close your eyes and stroke my tiger, starting from where my nipple should be.”

Jim is about to ask whether that's a euphemism, but suddenly notes one nipple really is missing; merely a tattooed presence on Sebastian's chest. Jim brushes his fingers over the vivid tiger tattoo, feeling significant scar tissue underneath, skillfully disguised.

Sebastian shivers in evident discomfort.

“Touch as low as you can without grabbing my cock,” Sebastian says. “You'll find I know exactly what I'm talking about when I tell you it's going to hurt to cum.”

Jim rests his fingers on the buckled skin. There are three broad scratches that narrow into nothing, the lowest near Sebastian's hip. The scratches might just be deeper than most of Jim's stab wounds. Sebastian evidently does know what he's talking about.

“What happened?” Jim asks.

“I followed a rather cross kitty down a drain,” Sebastian says quietly.

Jim's eyes flick down to the scars, possible to see now he knows where to look. “A cat didn't make those,” he states with certainty.

“Was a pretty big cat,” Sebastian mutters.

Jim considers the big cat tattoo and the scars, his desire not remotely diminished. “I like a bit of pain anyway,” Jim confesses.

“So do I,” Sebastian states, “but not pain like that. You won't like it.”

“I might,” Jim insists. He presses his groin against Sebastian.
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Emergency Contact