The staff had been retracted back to one long pole, but he’d set it on the ground beside him to work. Didn’t want it put away in case Fox decided to give him trouble. He hadn’t been lying about the BS part; the idiot with a gun always set him on edge and he didn’t trust him not to turn on him on those brief seconds, civilians-in-peril or not. If he let his guard down for even one moment he’d find the Fox’s knife at his throat and his prick pressed against his ass—grinding.
Fuckin’ sicko.
Of course, it didn’t help that some depraved part of Seb enjoyed it a little bit; he could tell his own prick to temper down a notch and it’d betray him like a kid in a candy store who’d had too much chocolate and didn’t want to say no to more. If someone broached the topic, not that anyone would know to, and he’d deny it vehemently. His face would twist up, his lip would curl, and he’s out right fake a round of retching if need be to make his point.
But there was no one to know really tell, aside from Dez. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to tell his ex that vigilante with a gun and a taste for death and violence was likely doing the equivalent of what he considered flirting with Seb. No way in hell. Not even after he tossed Fox in prison. Eventually.
His jaw flexed when the other man slipped up in front of him. He immediately stopped his progress and reached for his staff as he looked up—fully ignoring the fact that he pretty much face level with his crotch. The not that the unintentional-metaphor wasn’t lost him—the one about the stick—that Fox whispered about when he leaned down to close.
His jaw flexed once and Seb refrained from hitting him, reminding himself they were on a cease-fire until the innocents were free and safe. He quickly finished priming the device.
They’d had this debate before; the one about not killing criminals. “It’s not your job to be judge and juror; not mine either. Not that reminding you of that does a lick of fuckin’ good,” he snap-muttered through his teeth.
The device started to beep and he stepped back shortly after the other man, barely overhearing the shuffling of feet from within the steel box; he was distracted enough by both sounds for a time. But eventually he did notice what Fox was doing to one of the fallen criminals. Damnit, not again. He did not have time to babysit this fuckwit. As he tightened his grip on the staff he strode to him, but that was when the goon on the floor shot up and fired a gun.
“Christ, you son-of-a-bitch, can’t you leave well enough—.”
And... then he killed him. Seb swore under his breath and shoved Fox because his control wasn’t that perfect. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Wait, no, nevermind, don’t answer that,” he snapped next before pinching the bridge of his nose. Some insane part of him wanted to ask if he was alright. Why? Because he was the good guy, the one who was supposed to worry about people when they got fucking shot because they couldn’t mind their own damn business.
“You should have known he wasn’t down,” he scolded next in that deeply disguised voice, irritated he cared at all. The staff was put away, retracted to its small size and sheathed under his jacket on his back. He moved forward, pulling the other man’s clothes aside with all the care of an agitated nurse. “God damn fuckin idiot,” he muttered under his breath as his gloved hands skimmed over skin and eyed the leaking wound. “Pints, you’re going to lose pints, you jackass.” He reached into one of his pouches, snapping it open and pulled out another device. A small test tube shaped and sized silver rod. He bit the plastic cap off with his teeth, spit it aside, and hit a button just as one end hovered over the wound. A mess of what appeared to be white and foam-like, and feeling like ice, would coat and cover the wound. “That’ll stop the bleeding for now. Take care of it later,” he bit off just as the lock on the doors behind him boomed and broke with the controlled explosive..
His cool violet gaze, electric and angry, the one that couldn’t be seen because if the nature of his mask, held the other man’s as best it could—given that he too was wearing a mask. “Don’t kill anyone else on my mission,” he ordered darkly before turning around and heading back to the crate to open it. “If not for me,” he went on, “the at least for the victims. No one wants the first thing they see when escaping a sex ring to be a bloodthirsty asshole with no self-control.”
As the doors opened he stepped aside and told the young men and women to move and to leave in the direction of the doors he pointed to. Cops would be waiting—soon, he told them. Some thanked him, but he kept it short, detached, and quick. He was a little more coarse that usual because of Fox’s antics.
Fuckin’ sicko.
Of course, it didn’t help that some depraved part of Seb enjoyed it a little bit; he could tell his own prick to temper down a notch and it’d betray him like a kid in a candy store who’d had too much chocolate and didn’t want to say no to more. If someone broached the topic, not that anyone would know to, and he’d deny it vehemently. His face would twist up, his lip would curl, and he’s out right fake a round of retching if need be to make his point.
But there was no one to know really tell, aside from Dez. And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to tell his ex that vigilante with a gun and a taste for death and violence was likely doing the equivalent of what he considered flirting with Seb. No way in hell. Not even after he tossed Fox in prison. Eventually.
His jaw flexed when the other man slipped up in front of him. He immediately stopped his progress and reached for his staff as he looked up—fully ignoring the fact that he pretty much face level with his crotch. The not that the unintentional-metaphor wasn’t lost him—the one about the stick—that Fox whispered about when he leaned down to close.
His jaw flexed once and Seb refrained from hitting him, reminding himself they were on a cease-fire until the innocents were free and safe. He quickly finished priming the device.
They’d had this debate before; the one about not killing criminals. “It’s not your job to be judge and juror; not mine either. Not that reminding you of that does a lick of fuckin’ good,” he snap-muttered through his teeth.
The device started to beep and he stepped back shortly after the other man, barely overhearing the shuffling of feet from within the steel box; he was distracted enough by both sounds for a time. But eventually he did notice what Fox was doing to one of the fallen criminals. Damnit, not again. He did not have time to babysit this fuckwit. As he tightened his grip on the staff he strode to him, but that was when the goon on the floor shot up and fired a gun.
“Christ, you son-of-a-bitch, can’t you leave well enough—.”
And... then he killed him. Seb swore under his breath and shoved Fox because his control wasn’t that perfect. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Wait, no, nevermind, don’t answer that,” he snapped next before pinching the bridge of his nose. Some insane part of him wanted to ask if he was alright. Why? Because he was the good guy, the one who was supposed to worry about people when they got fucking shot because they couldn’t mind their own damn business.
“You should have known he wasn’t down,” he scolded next in that deeply disguised voice, irritated he cared at all. The staff was put away, retracted to its small size and sheathed under his jacket on his back. He moved forward, pulling the other man’s clothes aside with all the care of an agitated nurse. “God damn fuckin idiot,” he muttered under his breath as his gloved hands skimmed over skin and eyed the leaking wound. “Pints, you’re going to lose pints, you jackass.” He reached into one of his pouches, snapping it open and pulled out another device. A small test tube shaped and sized silver rod. He bit the plastic cap off with his teeth, spit it aside, and hit a button just as one end hovered over the wound. A mess of what appeared to be white and foam-like, and feeling like ice, would coat and cover the wound. “That’ll stop the bleeding for now. Take care of it later,” he bit off just as the lock on the doors behind him boomed and broke with the controlled explosive..
His cool violet gaze, electric and angry, the one that couldn’t be seen because if the nature of his mask, held the other man’s as best it could—given that he too was wearing a mask. “Don’t kill anyone else on my mission,” he ordered darkly before turning around and heading back to the crate to open it. “If not for me,” he went on, “the at least for the victims. No one wants the first thing they see when escaping a sex ring to be a bloodthirsty asshole with no self-control.”
As the doors opened he stepped aside and told the young men and women to move and to leave in the direction of the doors he pointed to. Cops would be waiting—soon, he told them. Some thanked him, but he kept it short, detached, and quick. He was a little more coarse that usual because of Fox’s antics.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-09-2016, 11:14 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-09-2016, 11:20 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 03-13-2016, 02:06 AM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-13-2016, 04:52 AM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 03-16-2016, 10:19 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-17-2016, 03:43 AM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 03-20-2016, 09:07 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-31-2016, 07:34 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 08-10-2016, 06:29 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 09-14-2016, 01:57 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 09-19-2016, 03:23 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 09-24-2016, 07:08 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Hobo_Bob - 11-12-2016, 05:13 PM
RE: The Spider & The Fly [Closed] - by Blade - 03-15-2017, 02:37 AM