Sebastian L. Moran, 38, Chief of Staff for J. Moriarty
The feeling of the other’s hands on him made Jim smile and curl his back a bit. He enjoyed it and being drunk like this, the feeling sent tingles down his spine. “Mnn…” He bit his lip and then licked them, before sighing lightly. “Fine, I won’t remember it anyway, tell me why you got kicked out of the military.” He said and then pulled back slightly, looking the other in the eyes. “Please?”
He knew he wouldn’t remember it, but he figured that the other might share, because of that, and because he wouldn’t tell him when he was sober. “I want to know… it’s important to me… tell me, Sebastian.” Jim insisted and then smiled at the other, tilting his head some.
Sebastian leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes. He very much misliked recalling that story, much less telling someone. He didn’t care that Jim wouldn’t remember it, it was not a good time for him personally to remember. It was one of those times when he felt completely out of control, and he only fully realized what happened when they showed him the footage of it.
“Boss, that’s not much of a bedtime story.” He said softly still rubbing Jims back.
