surefire-shot:

goodolfashionedvillian:

surefire-shot:

goodolfashionedvillian:

surefire-shot:

Staying silent, Sebastian nods curtly, crossing his arms together as they walk and slowing his steps to match Jims pace. “‘course.” Nothing more to say, he falls quiet again. It’s stupid, really, Sebastian knows there’s nothing for him here. Hell, he had the opportunity to get out when Jim was dead. But he hadn’t. And, frankly, he didn’t regret it one bit. “Not lately.” He adds on, grudgingly. But his lackeys have been— information can be easily obtained.

GO AWAY CASTIEL

“How are my funds? I hope you haven’t been gambling them all away.” Jim raises an eyebrow in question. Though not really lacking in the finance department, he knew how easily Sebastian was able to burn through money. 

It was good getting out and stretching his legs; it had been three long years since he had breathed air that wasn’t perfumed with sulfur and agony. Earth had a much more…polluted taste with agony dashed in. 

Jim’s mind didn’t shut up; he wondered over and over how Sherlock managed to escape their deal, and apparently Sebastian didn’t know anything about the annoying twat. He hoped that John was suffering, that would at least be the silver lining to a dingy cloud. 

GO AWAY AGAIN CASTIEL

Wrinkling his nose, Sebastian side-eyed Jim. Gambling. Hadn’t done that in awhile. Too busy managing all the little ants and ordering them to march. “Money’s fine.” He replied curtly.

Letting himself fall into thought, Sebastian paid less heed to where they walked. Jim would lead them where they needed to be- and no one was aware of Jim’s return yet, so there was a slim to none chance someone would be trying to snipe them from some roof-top. Curiosity, though, was a dangerous thing, and Sebastian was certainly curious about Jim’s time in hell. He wouldn’t be half surprised if he was walking next to the new devil.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO LEAVE CASTIEL

Jim hummed. He noticed Sebastian zone out, so he knew that where ever he stepped, the man would follow. Like a little puppy. Jim thought, snorting softly before gripping the man’s arm tight. “You need a stiff drink, darling and I want something to eat.” He didn’t need to eat anymore, but from he was craving spaghetti, and he needed to talk to some of his old associates. 

Alfonso would be positively pissing his pants when they walked through the door. With a spring in his step, Jim tugged Sebastian across the busy street, ignoring the protests which he knew would be coming from the sniper right about…now.

“Had plenty of drinks.” Sebastian replies automatically but it’s not a protest and he allows himself to be tugged despite the too-tight grip on his arm. Already they’re falling back into their old dynamic, and it’s comfortable… for the moment. Food sounded good though, but it would be odd sitting down across Jim and well, staring at him. Because thats what Sebastian would end up doing, he was sure of it.

Then they walked out onto the busy street, narrowly dodging cars and he came back to himself suddenly, hissing and tugging at Jim’s grip even as they continued on. “God! Don’t kill yourself!” Sebastian shouted, glaring viciously at the back of one of the cars swerving to avoid them. “Sorry.” He said, grudgingly as they reached the other side intact, by some gracious favor bestowed from the devil.

Jim grinned, nearly skipping as he pulled the sniper towards the restaurant. “You’re too tense.” He patted a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder before pushing the restaurant door open. 

They were flanked by an annoying host who looked down his nose at their state of dress; Jim’s suit was burnt in parts and had unattractive grass stains on the pants. (Crawling out of a grave was possibly the worst thing the criminal had done…and that was saying something). Sebastian was in his normal wear, so that would earn them a few sidelong glances from the ‘upper crust elite’. 

Jim hated the condescending look the host was giving them, so he allowed a nearlydemonic tilt come to his grin. The restaurant worker paled.