sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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GUIDELINES

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Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

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CONTACTING MODS
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MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

NOTICE: All links on the meme are now being screened because of spambot issues. When you submit a comment containing a link, it will be marked as spam. Please don't worry, the mods will unscreen it as soon as they can.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“I have more sophisticated tools if you want them,” Sebastian said, voice wavering peculiarly.

“This suits me fine,” Jim said coldly, still angry with him.

“Right", Sebastian breathed. A beat of silence. “Can I watch?”

Jim looked up sharply at the unexpected request, perceiving Sebastian's red cheeks and the growing bulge in his jeans with interest. “Why not? Just don't interrupt me. And if you make any noise at all, you'll regret it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian said, with no hint of sarcasm.

Jim nodded and slid past him, mind fixed firmly on the coming hours.

***

With his face swollen and wet from tears, Green wasn’t nearly as handsome as Jim remembered.. He felt, however, that the duct tape binding his ankles, wrists and mouth added a certain irresistible element that had been lacking before.

As Sebastian gingerly seated himself on the edge of the bathtub, Jim hauled Green off the floor and deposited him atop the toilet. On a whim he captured one of Green’s tears with his index finger, watching it glisten against his skin.

He smeared it away a second later, and brought the knife to Green’s button-up, popping the fastenings off one at a time. Green began sobbing afesh, pleading with Jim roughly through the tape, making oh so many promises and threats.

Jim kept shushing him until the last button fell to the tiles. He spread open Green’s shirt, revealing a deeply tanned, toned chest. Jim hummed with pleasure, circling one of Green’s pink nipples with the tip of his knife. Green’s entire body trembled and a wordless whimper escaped his throat.

He pressed lightly; just enough to draw a bead of blood. “You deserve this, you know that.”

Green shook his head in denial, eyes spookily wide.

Jim dug in harder, until flesh parted and there was a thin rivulet of scarlet trailing down Green’s perfect, hairless torso. Green screamed behind the tape.

Before the real fun began, Jim looked at Sebastian to see how he was reacting.

Sebastian was watching the two of them with heavy-lidded eyes. One hand was braced on the edge of the tub, while the other was busy kneading himself through his jeans.

All the years they'd known each other, and Jim had never suspected this, but he sure did like surprises.

With renewed hunger, he turned his attention once more to Green.

~*~
1984

Jim virtually quivered with nervous anticipation as his dad’s headlights flashed through the lace curtains, sending alien shadows skittering across the walls. Clarissa, his airy-headed sitter, was watching some mindless program on the telly as opposed to finishing her school work. Jim pretended to be doing his own.

His father entered the house looking tired, but content as usual. Jim gave him a falsely cheery “hey, dad!” before finishing up his long division with bored ease. He waited patiently while his dad dismissed Carissa for the night and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

A few minutes later his father thumped back onto the couch and began flipping through channels, halting on the depressing disarray that was the news. “Where’s you're ma?” he asked, taking a sip of the amber liquid.

Jim’s throat was so clogged with fear and delight that he almost couldn't speak. “Aunt Lexi’s. She said she’d be back around nine.”

His dad hummed acknowledgment of his words and they lapsed into silence.

Fifteen minutes passed as Jim pretended to be immersed in studying, and his father slowly sipped away his life.

Jim finally set his pencil aside when he heard his father plunk the empty liquor glass on the coffee table. He gazed across the room at his father and asked, seemingly apropos of nothing: “Why did you hurt mum?”

Something like guilt twisted his dad’s features as he blinked at Jim. “What do you mean? I‘d never hurt your mother. I love her.” His voice was overflowing with sincerity, but his eyes were less convincing.

“I saw you two the other night,” Jim said slyly, rubbing circles on the arms of his chair with his thumbs.

“Saw what, exactly?” his dad asked, voice dangerously blank.

Jim grimaced, shrugged.

“Stuff,” he muttered, playing dumb.

They stared each other down, but Jim had no intention of losing. He kept eye contact until his father lowered his gaze.

“Sometimes, when adults get angry, things happen that are later regretted. Like how you took care of that bully in your class.”

“It’s not the same,” Jim insisted angrily. “You deserve to die.”

That was when he noticed the signs: the sweat on his father’s upper lip and the dilaton of his pupils. Very intriguing. Theoretical knowledge and firsthand experience were utterly different. He almost forgot why he was angry.

“James, don’t say things like that.” The hurt in his voice was real and that made Jim more irate.

“You're going to die,” Jim promised.

For the first time, his father looked afraid of him; it was usually his mother that graced him with that expression of utter terror.

“Finish your homework upstairs,” he commanded, voice booming and panicky. “Now.”

Jim smirked and did as he was told, then sat up in bed watching the clock and playing an old Bee Gees record. Waiting.

So beautifully dark!
Please more!

Thanks! Almost finished with the final part.

I like that this story is focused on Jim and told from Jim's POV. It's new for me. I also liked him standing up for his Mum and not letting his Dad fool him.

Thank you. I've never read or written anything Jim-centric before, so I'm glad you're enjoying it. :)

Prompting Part XXXV

Re: You Were My First - Part 4b/5

Re: You Were My First - Part 4c/5

Re: You Were My First - Part 4c/5

Re: You Were My First - Part 4c/5

Re: You Were My First - Part 4c/5

Re: You Were My First - Part 4c/5