Warning: This is sick, and not in a nice way. There is no fluffy Jane here. No happy either. Be warned. Non-con(ish... it's complicated), slash (not romantic by any means), and Jane tearing people's lives apart.
I want something dirty, and hurting, definitely dub-con. Bosco getting more and more irritated with Jane because him behaving as he does makes Bosco hot and hard as hell, he wants to be the one to put Jane 'back in his place' or something. Which in turn makes him very angry at Jane for turning him on like that.
Maybe Jane has issues and lets him do it because of whatever, maybe Bosco is in a position to blackmail him, or he promises details for the Red John case blahblah.
Make me happy!
From the mentalist kink meme on LiveJournal.
Beta: Lady of Scarlet
Jane let it happen.
When Bosco's breath came hot and moist against the back of his neck, Jane apologized to the memory of his wife. She wouldn't have liked this. Wouldn't have liked his hand sliding on dirty carpet, nails scraping on the grayish pile. Wouldn't have liked his nice suit crumpled and torn, pants pushed down to his knees. Wouldn't have liked the pain and humiliation, the way Bosco muttered angry little nothings into his ear.
In the end, what she would have wanted doesn't matter. His wife was dead and to make Red John pay for that, Jane had to make sacrifices. He'd been surprised by this particular sacrifice, had thought he had already given everything he could afford. It was an odd sense of gratitude toward Bosco when he found that he still had pawns on the board, even if his wife wouldn't have liked him playing them.
Jane had never considered sex with a man until Bosco. He did research for this, because all successful jobs rely on research, but eventually ignored the information to increase the damage to his body. Jane regretted that in the first painful penetration. The pain had waned, but the deeper discomfort remained, a sparking ache that crawled up and down his spine. Jane swayed under the weight of Bosco's body, thin trickles of blood dripping down his thighs. He thought of his wife, how lovely she had been. This pain was nothing to what she had felt.
Jane built this scenario. Bosco thought it had been his idea and Jane smirked into the half-assed gag Bosco had stuffed into his mouth with dire warnings against Jane spitting it out. Bosco had only wanted him, lust without purpose or direction. Jane had seen it and seized on it.
It had been easy. Insubordination was a talent, being pretty (too pretty, a voice that sounds like his wife sighs) was inherent, and manipulation was a gift. Jane built glass walls around Bosco, mirrors and lies in each, and led him by the hand to keep him from finding the prison before it was time.
When the dominos were set up, Jane had walked calmly into Bosco's office. He badgered Bosco, pestered him, refused to submit. Bosco responded beautifully, punching Jane hard enough to bruise, to bleed. Jane had mocked him then, disparaged his masculinity. Bosco reacted, the lust Jane had fed so carefully boiling up with his rage. Jane had controlled his every move; each breath choreographed before Bosco even thought about them.
Jane heard footsteps in the hall. He smothered a smile and arranged his face to show distress, shifting his head just so. Bosco took the bait and pulled his hair. Jane controlled the movement, angling his face to show the bruises, purpling black eyes and bloody lips.
There was a knock on the door and Lisbon walked in without waiting for a response. She was holding a file folder, but she dropped it in shock when she saw Jane, debauched and bleeding, Bosco still thrusting into him.
A drop of blood dripped from his split lip to the floor. He thought it was a particularly nice touch.
Jane felt sick triumph as Teresa's face shifted from shock to protective rage and he had to think of his wife to keep from laughing with the joy of a plan well sprung. Bosco pulled back violently and Jane winced, because it did hurt. Lisbon's expression turned even more thunderous and Jane felt a moment of kinship, looking into her eyes. He knows she understands justice and wishes she understood vengeance half as well.
They both ignored Bosco's stammered explanations.
Jane broke eye contact, feigning shame. He pulled Bosco's tie out of his mouth, dropping it on the floor. Jane fumbled purposely for his clothes, pulling them on with trembling hands, and then scrambled out of the room. He rushed out of the office and headed towards his car. He'll spend the night at home.
Lisbon would be there by midnight. He'll pick up things for tea.