Silence stretches. Both men unmoving. Sebastian is in the kitchen - one hand clutching his phone, the other his gun. Jim is barely inside the doorway, hands in his pockets.
The space between them is an impenetrable invisible wall. Sebastian’s breathing is laboured, heavy and frantic. He stares straight ahead, willing himself to believe what he is seeing. But something is fighting against him. A well constructed barrier in his mind that insists upon deception.
Jim takes a step forward and Sebastian raises his gun automatically. He also takes a step forward. Slowly, they are closing the chasm between them.
Another few measured steps. Sebastian matches them and releases the safety.
They are barely five feet apart. Jim moves forward and makes it three. Sebastian follows and he is less than an arm’s length away. He cocks the gun.
“Don’t.” He presses the barrel up into Jim’s chin. ”Not a word.”
Jim levels his gaze and Sebastian looks right into his hard eyes.
It is Jim.
It’s him, those eyes.
Lies, lies, lies.
Sebastian slides his phone into his pocket and pulls out a utility knife. He flicks it open with one hand, the other applying continuous pressure of the gun into Jim’s jaw.
He slides the knife under the lowest button on Jim’s jacket and watches as he clenches his teeth. With a slight movement, he pulls the knife through the thread and severs the button from the clothing. Jim makes a sharp intake of breath, but manages not to say a word. Sebastian cuts off the other two buttons in a similar fashion.
“Take it off.”
Jim narrows his eyes, but complies, letting the jacket fall to the floor. Sebastian offers him the knife by the handle.
“Cut off your tie.”
”This is a-“
Sebastian lifts his empty hand and slaps Jim across the face. A thin line of blood trickles out from one side when Jim recovers from the impact.
“I don’t fucking care. Cut it off.”
Jim slips the knife under one side of the knot of the tie and saws through the fabric. It falls to the floor to join his jacket. He offers the knife back to Sebastian.
“No. Now your shirt.”
A shadow crosses Jim’s face and he has to swallow his rage. He quickly cuts through the buttons from hem to collar and rips off his shirt, dropping it to the ground. He closes the knife and throws it into the kitchen, defiantly.
“On your knees!”
Sebastian moves the gun from Jim’s chin to the side of his head, pressing it in hard enough to leave an impression. Jim falls to his knees in front of him. Sebastian uses his free hand to unbuckle his belt and free himself from his pants.
“Now,” he says, gun held steady, “suck my cock.”
Jim looks up at him from the floor, his expression a mix of rage and lust. He makes no effort to comply.
Sebastian reaches down and wraps one hand around his throat, squeezing with gentle pressure.
“Do as you’re told…” He releases Jim’s throat and pushes him forward from the back of his head.