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Cold Hearts and Cyber Parts. [ blue ... 666 ]

Thorne's nails nearly draw blood and Jadiel sobs, shaking as he pushes himself back into position. All of his muscles are exhausted, even ones he didn't know he had. He keeps his head down as demanded, legs splayed with his ass presented for Thorne to take, over and over again.
Come gushes within him and Jadiel can feel his stomach swell, the skin stretching impossibly. He swears he can taste it again, stuffed so beyond capacity his body has to stretch in order to take it all. He sobs, rasping, drooling. He's an absolute mess beneath Thorne on the bed, delirious from come and drugs, completely stupefied. His head lifts as Thorne tugs, showing off his pretty, bruised throat.

"Yours, Papi, yours!" Jadiel sobs, crying it out in the privacy of the bedroom. He weeps for Thorne, stomach bursting. He's so full it hurts and he loves every second of it; he needs it. Jadiel's body shakes so hard under Thorne's grip that surely the other man can feel it, how he shudders and how he suffers. The flesh of his stomach is puffy, stretched thin and a ruddy pink. He keeps his thighs pressed to Thorne's, leaning back into him in knowing how the other man likes to see his boy so impossibly swollen.
 
Thorne licks Jadiel’s cheek, tasting his tears. Jadiel’s agreement, whether driven by lust, pain, or the Nova, makes Thorne shiver. He can feel the smaller man shaking, relishes the feel of him leaning back, just as Thorne leans forward. Only their second fuck, and already Thorne can see how easy it is to break Jadiel into obedience. He smirks, lips brushing along Jadiel’s jaw to his throat, then to his shoulder. Teeth dig in hard, adding to the bruises already present.

Thorne straightens, releasing Jadiel’s hair and letting his head fall to the bed. His hand traces the boy’s back, down his spine, fingers stroking over the red welts he’d made. “Such a good boy. You know your place so well already.” Thorne rolls his hips once more, then finally pulls away. His fingers untwist the fabric from around Jadiel’s forearms, freeing his hands. Then he pushes Jadiel onto his side, away from the mess. “No doubt you’ll be back to your annoying, demanding self tomorrow morning.”
 
Teeth dig into the boy's shoulders, nearly enough to break the skin. Jadiel sobs from it, arching and pushing back against Thorne, leaning into his head. He all but crumbles to the bed when released, his head falling back down as Thorne pets over his body and praises him for now understanding where he belongs. Jadiel pants heavily, curling his neck and trying to look to Thorne, listening to him. Compared to yesterday, he's somehow even more of a mess. Soaked with tears and sweat, drool in the stubble of his facial hair and down his throat.

Jadiel lands on his side with a little thump, able now to catch his breath more fully. He's still clearly in a daze, eyes barely open as he relaxes now that they're done fucking; rather, now that Thorne is finished with him. The statement had Jadiel grinning, a breathless laugh on his mouth.
"Bet you can't fuckin' wait," Jadiel teases, and though his voice is heavy and slurred, the words are clear enough to make out. He pushes his wet curls from his face, his movements relatively uncoordinated. Jadiel's so out of it he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to walk right now; he can barely touch his face. The Nova leaves him like a frayed nerve as the adrenaline starts to run out, pleasure sparking randomly in his body and making his legs shake. Finally, he spots the mess he's made on the bed.
"Oh shit, my bad." Jadiel chuckles again. "Uhh, I can do laundry tomorrow."
 
Thorne is already moving around the bed by the time Jadiel has noticed his mess. He's left to the attached bathroom, and seconds later, water can be heard running. It's still running as Thorne returns, standing at the side of the bed Jadiel is laying closest to. "Come on, sit up. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Thorne helps Jadiel sit up and put his legs on the floor. He's only got one arm to carry the boy with, so he wraps it tight around his waist. "Put your arms around my neck, Jadiel." Once Jadiel does as he's told, Thorne lifts him from the bed.

In the bathroom, Thorne sets Jadiel on the sink counter for a moment. He pulls a silver circular object from one of the drawers, fitting it over the open socket of his left shoulder. It functions as a cap, sealing the socket from getting water in it. Picking up the smaller man again, he steps them into the large glass shower box. There's a shelf built into the tiled wall, holding various soaps, and a smooth steel bar horizontal on the wall just above the panel of water controls. The showerhead itself is a large square, water raining down fairly strong with even pressure.

"Hang onto the bar." Thorne sets Jadiel on his shaking legs, making sure he's got his balance before releasing him. Thorne stands behind Jadiel, and sets to work rubbing him down. Reaching up, he angles the showerhead away while he lathers the shorter man's body with soap.
 
"Fuck off, just let me be messy." Jadiel is whining annoyingly as Thorne goes to scoop him from the bed. Clearly he's more interested in sleeping now, but Thorne is stronger than he is. Jadiel knows the other man is right; sleeping in such a sticky mess isn't going to do him any favors.
Huffing, Jadiel reaches. He wraps his arms snugly around Thorne's neck and shoulders, privately impressed as the man lifts him so easily with just one arm. His forehead rests at Thorne's neck, kind of enjoying the softer touch and attention. Jadiel is actually quite into Thorne playing tender with him, but he won't admit to that.

When they reach the shower, Jadiel wobbles to his feet and grips at the shower bar, his knees briefly knocking as he finds a way to steady his weight without falling over. He's breathing more steadily now, glancing over his shoulder as Thorne actually starts helping him clean up. The tech blushes, feeling rather spoiled by it.
"Thanks, Papi." Jadiel's voice is unusually soft, just over the sound of the shower. He's not sure if Thorne is cleaning him out of caring, or of just not wanting the boy to make a mess of the bed. Either way, he appreciates it. He turns his head, brushing his nose over Thorne's jaw affectionately.
After some moments, Jadiel feels a bit more secure on his feet. He reaches and brushes his hand through Thorne's damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
"If you hand me the soap, I'll wash your hair." Funny, that Jadiel can't see and Thorne has only one arm, but he's willing to pamper Thorne as the man is doing for him.
 
There’s that name again. Thorne has been ignoring it, but Jadiel seems to use it a lot. “Why do you call me that?” His hand skims along Jadiel’s hips as the boy nuzzles his jaw. Thorne suppresses a chuckle; if he wasn‘t leaning over the boy to wash him, Jadiel wouldn’t be able to reach his jaw.

Fingers push hair from Thorne’s eyes, and he raises an eyebrow. “As much as I’d enjoy that, a breeze could knock you over right now.” Almost as if to prove his point, Thorne gives Jadiel’s shoulder a push. Of course, he’s just as quick to pull the boy flush up against him to keep him from falling. “Just let me clean you up so I can put you to bed.” Just as he had the night before, Thorne’s hand moves down, fingers sliding into Jadiel’s body to clean out the evidence of their activities.
 
"Papi? Oh, uhh." Jadiel offers a half shrug. "I dunno. It's like a pet name. It's common in my culture." Jadiel has used it for boyfriends in the past, men he's be interested. Even he has been called that name before. To him, it's as commonplace as something like 'baby' or 'sweetheart'. It means to same in his mind, more or less. Thorne doesn't speak distastefully about it, but maybe it irks him in some way. Jadiel makes a mental note to ask about it at some point.

"Oye!" Jadiel squeaks as Thorne gives him a push, catching him immediately. Still Jadiel flails a bit and reaches up, clinging to Thorne's shoulders with a noisy huff.
"Coño," Jadiel grunts, calling him a cunt again, but he's smirking as he does it. Thorne couldn't be more right. As it is, Jadiel feels relatively shaky, off balance. He leans into Thorne and allows the man to take care of him, his mouth opening in a sighing whine as he helps Jadiel expel the release from his backside. He swears it's still hot as it oozes down his thighs, though that's probably just the water from the shower.

Eventually, Jadiel is clean and the tech leans heavily into the wall as Thorne goes about turning off the shower. When given a towel, Jadiel relaxes against the counter of the sink again and dries out his fresh curls, fluffing them up over his head in all directions. When wet, his hair almost hung into his eyes. It's cut short on the sides and the back, but the mop on top is quite thick.
"Oh," Jadiel speaks, remembering something. "Uhh, are your boyfriends bringing me clothes? Cause I don't think your pants will fit me." Jadiel chuckles weakly. He's come to terms with the situation he's in - more or less - but he'd prefer his own wardrobe. No doubt Thorne's pants would be dragging on the floor behind him due to their grand distance in height. The tech dries off his body quickly with the same towel, exhaustion tugging at every nerve. Going to bed has never sounded so good in his entire life.
 
Thorne smiles briefly when Jadiel says Papi is a pet name, then laughs when the boy squeaks. His fingers clean Jadiel out, far more gently than when they’d been pressing lube into him. Out of the shower, Thorne dries off quickly, then removes the silver socket cap from his shoulder, setting it in the sink to air dry. When asked about clothing, he shrugs.

”Just wear one of my shirts for now. I’ll send someone to get more things tomorrow.” Thorne moves closer, setting his towel on the counter. He wraps his arm around Jadiel to pick him up again, same as before. His teeth bite the boy’s ear. “And stop calling them my boyfriends.” Thorne carries Jadiel out to the bedroom, where he’s promptly reminded of the mess on the bed. With a sigh, he carefully leans Jadiel against the wall, then starts striping the bed, rolling up the sheets and tossing them toward the door.
 
Reaching, Jadiel moves in tandem with Thorne this time as the man picks him up. The bite to his ear has him tensing, a muffled whimper jumping out of him. He rolls his eyes, but takes note of it and rests his head back on Thorne's shoulder during the transition, holding onto him securely. Thorne's sigh has Jadiel snickering a little.

"Sorry," Jadiel says, though he doesn't sound all that apologetic. "I can do the laundry tomorrow, promise." He moves slowly, leaning into the wall and taking it steady as he reaches the nightstand and finds his glasses. From there, he's shimmying in the opposite direction until he can find Thorne's dresser. He lays a forearm across it as he roots inside, pulling out fresh clothes for the both of them. Two boxer briefs and a pair of sweats for Thorne should he want them. Jadiel manages to get into the underwear without falling over, offering the clean clothes to Thorne once he's made the bed.
Once Jadiel is in the bed he's so desired, he sighs heavily and simply buries his face into one of the pillows. After some moments he wriggles around, making himself more comfortable curled up on his side. In Thorne's large, luxury bed he looks so puny.
"You tired?" Jadiel murmurs, eyes already shut. He doesn't even have a concept of what time it is.
 
Thorne watches Jadiel move around from the corner of his eye as he makes the bed, though if he's that insistent on moving when he can't balance, he might just let the boy fall. He takes the clothes held out, pulling them on, then smirks when Jadiel wiggles into bed.

Thorne has no idea where his phone is, but he has a better concept of time than Jadiel. "No, I have other things to get done. Go to sleep." Thorne doesn't wait until Jadiel sleeps. He leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
 
When Thorne says he's busy, Jadiel offers a muted hum and rolls over, tugging the clean sheets over his body and falling asleep pretty much instantly.
The boy doesn't show signs of life until the next morning. Sunlight is streaming in through the curtains as Jadiel twitches to life, eyes blinking open. He rubs at them with the back of his wrist, sitting up in the bed and finding his glasses on the nightstand. Once he has them on, he invites himself to a pair of Thorne's sweats, cuffing them around his ankles so they don't drag on the floor. Once he has a stolen shirt, he sets to fulfilling his promise from last night.

Jadiel finds the laundry room downstairs by the basement. He's got a heap of dirty linens in his arms, wandering around the room and stuffing the washer, filling it with soap and setting it to life. It takes him a second to figure out the mechanisms of an unfamiliar machine, but he manages it and continues wandering. Jadiel remembers Thorne mentioning something about tools in the basement, so once he grabs Thorne's broken arm from the kitchen, he sets off to check his inventory.

The basement is clean, so that's good. He doesn't want dust or any contaminates getting into the moving parts of the arm. It's a typical garage-like space, counters and shelves. Jadiel's demanded supplies are boxed up in one corner of the room and he starts assembling a word space.
After an hour, he feels more comfortable. Thorne's arm is resting on a table, a grid sheet beneath it, the plastic printed with measuring tools of all shapes and sizes, more like a reference guide perhaps for sewing. He's got two laptops on the table, as well as a tablet and some kind of gauging device. Thorne's arm has been carefully cracked open and is connected to all four devices on the table, wires hanging out all over the place. It looks somewhat chaotic but the intense focus in Jadiel's face is clear. His brow is set in a terse line as he stands before the arm, hands on his hips, eyes darting between all the screens which run all kinds of numbers, equations, impossible mathematics that look like rocket science. For all Jadiel's talk about being little more than a lazy pothead he's hyper focused. The tech is fucking smart.
One of the laptops beeps a few times and Jadiel moves to it, eyeing the spreadsheet that it's making. He scoffs at the results, glancing at the arm.
"He hasn't had anything done in years?" Jadiel murmurs to himself. Him, being Thorne. Jadiel hasn't seen the guy all morning actually, but it's as if he's forgotten he's in an unfamiliar place with a relative stranger at all. He's got tunnel vision and he can see little around him but the tools on the table.
 
Anton and Jack were both stationed at the front and back doors when Jadiel had woken. The short man hadn't seemed to notice them, which didn't matter much to them. Thorne is out of the house, having gone to meet with a team of managers for his pharmacy company. He may be a drug lord, but he's still business smart about running his legal front. They're also the only ones he's willing to meet without his left arm. No need to intimidate them; he pays them well, so their loyalty doesn't need a fearful reminder.

It's noon when Thorne returns, and Anton informs him that Jadiel has been in the basement, and hasn't yet eaten. With a roll of his eyes, Thorne goes to the kitchen first, making a hefty club sandwich. He'd eaten during his meeting, so he only makes one. Thorne heads to the basement, leaning in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. He watches Jadiel in silence, waiting for him to notice.
 
At the table, Jadiel is gutting the arm pretty much to the bone. He has rubber gloves on, a bead of sweat rolling down his left temple as he works. Something sparks and he hardly even flinches, just glancing towards the fingers to the arm to make sure nothing is on fire. The tech rolls his eyes and returns to the shoulder mechanism, pulling out another frayed end. Only when he turns to grab another tool does he finally notice Thorne.

"Oh shit ." Jadiel chuckles, a note of surprise to his voice. His demeanor changes instantly, darting from that intense focus to lazy once more. He's like two different people. "Sorry, uhh I didn't see you. Is that for me?" Like some stupid comedy sitcom, Jadiel's stomach rumbles at the sight of the sandwich in Thorne's hands. He snaps his gloves off and leaves them on the table, walking over to Thorne. Unsurprisingly, his gait is just a little wobbly from their business from the night prior. He accepts the sandwich, glancing into the contents briefly. Just vegetables, for which he's appreciative.
"This thing is so fucked," Jadiel says after swallowing, turning back to the arm and motioning at it. "I'm like amazed it functions at all to be honest. The entire bicep needs new wires for everything, one of the exterior plates on the forearm needs to be replaced. The pinky and ring finger also need to be replaced, like, the whole thing. I need to build new models for them and reroute them to the new computer system. Oh, yeah, I need to build a new computer system." He shakes his head, wobbling towards the table and speaking around his bites.
"All of this shit is so outdated. It was platinum for it's time, but you haven't gotten anything done in years. This is a bigger project than I thought it would be, which is fine, I'm just saying I hope you're not in a hurry. Do you have any other models you can use while I work on this, or is this your only arm?" He turns back to Thorne, dark eyes inquisitive.
 
Thorne is entirely amused by Jadiel’s focus, even impressed. When the shorter man finally notices him and walks over, he holds out the plate. Listening to him ramble about all the worn parts and damage, Thorne can’t help but grin. This is exactly why he went to such lengths to get his hands on Jadiel. The man knows his stuff. Thorne follows him over to the table, staring at the disarray of parts with an expression that speaks volumes of his lack of knowledge.

”This is my only arm, Jadiel. It’s worked fine over the last five years, and I never needed a spare. The problems only started eight months ago, and I started planning your capture six months ago.” Thorne leans down to lick the side of Jadiel’s mouth, where a bit of sauce was staining his skin. He straightens, smirking and licking his own lips. “You’re here to fix it, or rebuild it, remember?”
 
Thorne leans down, explaining to Jadiel that no, there are no spares. When he licks at the tech's mouth he blushes, quickly wiping his face in case there's anything else stuck to him and makes him look like a little kid. Jadiel clears his throat and sits down on an old crate he found in the garage, elbows on his knees.
"I'm asking cause you can't use your arm while I work on it, obviously," Jadiel says, frowning a bit. "And not like, when I take a break, either. Hooking and unhooking you from the arm every day is basically impossible, even if you just need to use it for a minute. I have a spare at my place if you need it, and it's kind of janky and not pretty like this, but it would work if you desperately needed something. That's all." Jadiel shrugs kind of helplessly as he finishes his sandwich, glancing towards the arm on the table. Feeling refreshed, he gets back up and returns to it, motioning Thorne to come with him. The rubber gloves come back on.

"Look." Jadiel turns the arm over gently, showing the inner workings of the bicep. Sure enough, most if not all of the wires inside have varying degrees of burn on them, some fizzled out completely.
"I think this is the main reason why you short circuit so much. It's like a snowball; one spark burns another wire and it gets worse and worse over time. It's kind of like, a scientific anomaly that your arm didn't just blow up. You should consider yourself lucky. You don't -" Jadiel pauses, looking to Thorne and seeing the relative lack of understanding in his face. His own expression falls and he huffs.
"None of this makes sense to you, nevermind." Jadiel rolls his eyes, but he's smirking. He doesn't blame Thorne for being confused; the first time he saw the insides of a biomechanical organ. "Even after I fix this, you should think about keeping a spare around just in case something weird happens."
 
Thorne smirks at the blush, then shrugs again. He doesn’t seem too concerned. “I’ll just have my men handle my affairs, then. I’m not wearing some second rate arm that I don‘t know the compatability of. I’d rather just stay here until it’s finished.” Thorne watches Jadiel return to work, then stares blankly at the inner workings of his left arm. He can see things don’t look right, and he understands the wires are burning out, but beyond that, he has no idea what the rest of it is.

Thorne grins when Jadiel rolls his eyes, bumping his hip against the shorter man. “It’s your job to make sense of it, Jadiel.” Thorne looks to the boy’s face, then leans his ass against the table. “Why should I keep a spare? Maybe I’ll just keep you. My own personal Mr. Fix-It.” Thorne laughs, but there’s something to it that makes it seem like he’s not entirely joking.
 
"People get paid to do a job," Jadiel huffs, tinkering with one of the computers, pressing buttons in a seemingly random way. "You aren't paying me shit. Also, what the hell does that mean?" Jadiel's eyes narrow a bit when Thorne suggests he's going to keep the tech here for as long as he wants. Jadiel briefly pictures himself chained in the basement, slaving away on whatever Thorne throws at him. He swallows thickly and turns his attention back to the computer, deciding not to let that thought run wild.
"Okay, uhh-" Without really explaining anything, Jadiel moves to Thorne. He pushes his sleeve out of the way and rolls it up his shoulder, a tiny flash light in one of his hands. Jadiel's peering into the mechanism, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
"There it is." Jadiel takes a pair of tweezers from the table and removes something from inside Thorne. It's an SD card, and Jadiel puts it into the larger laptop.
"I'm wiping the system in there, it'll take a few hours to get all the shit out. I've built arm computers before, so it shouldn't take me too long unless you want like, extra bells and whistles or something. Anything you can think of? Do you want like, full three-sixty rotation in your elbow or fingers or something weird? More strength, or fancy LEDs?" Jadiel leans into the table, ready to make note of whatever request Thorne might throw at him.
 
Thorne laughs at Jadiel’s huffing. Way too easy to tease him. He turns his head to stare at Jadiel as the man starts fiddling with his shoulder. He blinks as numbness suddenly spreads all the way across his shoulderblade, the socket essentially going dead, and having no signals to send to his nerves. Okay, that’s an uncomfortable feeling. Thorne says nothing, though the muscles in his back and neck twitch like they’re trying to wake up an arm gone to sleep.

“I just need it to work without shorting out. It’s not exactly effective, or intimidating, to have an arm that has a mind of it’s own when meeting with.. important figures.” Thorne chooses to leave out that those important figures are usually members of other crime cartels. “How long, exactly? This twitching is going to get annoying, fast.”
 
"What, it feels weird?" Jadiel asks, smirking suddenly. He notices Thorne's twitching and chuckles, amused to see his captor being the uncomfortable one for once. He looks to the computer and folds his arms, hemming and hawing.
"Mmh, at this rate, maybe three, four hours," Jadiel decides, looking to the ceiling as he thinks. "Your internet isn't as strong as mine. If I was home, it would maybe be thirty minutes or so. But, whatever. You'll be fine, won't you? Just a little tremor." Jadiel hums as he types something in the computer, a dial in the arm on the table lighting up and whirring. As he deletes the system from the SD, he's wiping the interior of the arm as well. As it is, the machine borders on useless to Jadiel with all the broken wires and the outdated computer system.

"Oh, actually, I could fix that for you right now," Jadiel offers, his voice lazy. He nods his head at Thorne's fussing muscles. "I could put an empty SD in there so the computer thinks your arm is still attached, or I could just turn it all off completely. But I dunno, I just can't decide what would be mot comfortable for you. Maybe if I had some pot, I could make up my mind and the solution would come to me. You know, I just want you to be comfortable, Papi. Four hours can be a long time." Jadiel looks as smug as a pig in shit, grinning devilishly at Thorne. He'd piss off a monk with that supernova smile.
 
Thorne is indeed irritated by the coy suggestion of a demand. He glares at Jadiel, head twitching briefly as one twitching muscle pulls at his neck. “You’re such a shit, you know that? Weed stinks something awful, I’m loathe to have it in my house.” Thorne turns and stalks up the stairs. There’s quiet chatter, then the sound of the front door opening and closing. Thorne doesn’t return back to the basement, instead flopping down on the sofa in the living room. He’s leaned forward, right hand trying to rub the twitching muscles.

It’s almost an hour before Anton returns, bearing the jar of requested greenery. Thorne walks to the top of the basement stares, yelling down them instead of going down. “Jadiel, your shit is here. You better bring a solution up here with you, or you’re not getting anything of it.”
 
Jadiel doesn't exactly feel bad about extending Thorne's torment. He's been kidnapped and basically enslaved, after all. Though he does consider himself lucky that Thorne hadn't just beat him into submission, literally. Playing with Thorne like this is a tricky game, and he has to be careful about which battles he goes for.

The tech works quietly while Thorne is gone, running a few more diagnostics while building a new computer system for the arm. His fingers work rapidly, flying across the keyboard and pumping out all sorts of equations and codes, the data and inputs coming solely from his mind. He'll more than likely have to run multiple tests and think of new things on the fly should they not go how he wants, but he's feeling pretty confident. When Thorne's voice hits him again, a frustrated shout, he hops from the computer and takes some tools with him.
Jadiel offers a comical "woo!" of joy when he comes upstairs and sees his jar of weed. However, he goes right to Thorne on the couch, squatting down beside him and going back into his shoulder. One of the items he's holding is a vial, some kind of dark, viscous liquid inside.
"You're not the only one with drugs," Jadiel murmurs, opening something up inside of Thorne where he probably can't really see. "Don't freak out, it's not like, like drugs you can take. Think of it like, uhh. Like a really fancy elbow grease for an old tool. I don't know how to describe it."
Jadiel soaks one of the wires from Thorne's shoulder in the vial, then tucks it back into him. A few more plugs and clicks and the twitching stops completely. It's actually replaced by something soothing, a warm heat flowing into Thorne's back and neck like the comfort of a deep tissue massage.
"It's a kind of lubricant?" Jadiel says. "It's meant for getting shit into tight places, like an air tight seal, but when you soak sensors in them it just so happens to heat them up. Not like, dangerously hot, but it feels nice. I mean, I don't know, but I've used it before, so." The tech shrugs. He has no way of testing things out on himself, but enough practice and discovery over the years has taught him plenty. Trial and error.
 
After having yelled, Thorne had returned to the couch, and Anton had set the jar of weed on the coffee table. When Jadiel starts talking about drugs, Thorne is imediately skeptical, even leaning away form the man momentarily. Eyes narrowed, he stares at Jadiel’s face, until that strange soothing heat passes through his muscles. It actually makes him shiver, not accustomed to that sort of sensation in those nerves. But the twitching stops, finally. All the same, there’s a dull ache in his muscles from the constant movement over the last hour.

”It’s something, at least. Go sit by the window with that shit, and don’t even think about trying to jump out it.” Thorne puts his feet up on the coffee table, picking up the tv remote and flipping through random channels. He eventually settles on some old action movie, but he’s not really paying attention to it.
 
"I learned my lesson, don't worry," Jadiel drones once he's fixed Thorne's little twitching issue. He grabs the jar and heads near the back door, sitting under the window as demanded.
Smoking is a soothing ritual for Jadiel. He grabs the rolling papers from inside the jar, laying one on his knees and carefully pinching off some bud into the paper. He rolls it methodically, slowly, like even rolling a joint is comforting to him. Once he's lit up, he inhales deeply and leans his head closer to the window, blowing the smoke out. He even holds the joint outside the sill, mindful to be as careful as possible about letting the smoke in.

Once he's cashed the joint, he flicks the end into oblivion and grabs the sealed jar, moving back to Thorne on the couch and simply sitting beside him. Jadiel is somewhat more invested in the film, watching with a somewhat more relaxed look on his face. It's easy to tell when he's high; he's got a slight crook to his mouth, a little smile that looks both mischievous and silly.
"I don't have cable at my house," Jadiel muses, filling the quiet of the living room. "It just didn't make sense to me. Isn't it all like, commercials and stupid shit anyway?" He looks to Thorne, then sees his cellphone.
"Oh shit. I lost my phone. Do you, uhh, do you know where I put it? Or are you hiding it from me?" Jadiel smirks in an accusatory way.
 
Jake is sitting on a chair by the back door, and shuffles it sideways away from the window when Jadiel approaches. He doesn’t seem bothered by the smell of weed like Thorne is, mostly ignoring Jadiel as he fiddles on his phone. When Jadiel returns to the living room, Thorne can smell the weed on his breath and makes a face. His own phone sits idle on his thigh for now. He’d been texting back and forth with someone while Jadiel was smoking.

Thorne waves his hand idly when Jadiel turns his head toward him, waving away his breath. “Of course I’m hiding it from you. Why would I give you access to something you could use to contact authorities? And before you say anything, my internet connection is a closed servor. Information can come in, but nothing goes out.”
 
The tech raises a brow when Thorne waves his hand, clearly quite repulsed by the scent of the weed. Jadiel has grown to like it, of course, but he never found it offensive in the beginning. A scent that hangs around a bit long, sure. As an afterthought, he scoots away from Thorne, putting a foot between them on the couch.
"Well if shit goes out but doesn't come in, then gimmie my phone!" Jadiel says, laughing suddenly and oblivious to the fact that he's saying it wrong. "Look, look, I get it. I'm your idiot prisoner or whatever and I'm trapped. You're not gonna believe me, but I'm not gonna call the cops. I'm pretty sure that's like, a death wish or something. Wouldn't you just shoot me?" Jadiel throws his hands out, clearly not certain how the situation would work out. If Thorne has the means to kidnap him, he figures there's weapons in the house. Or, the bodyguards have some. He's kind of just assuming the worst.

"Whatever man, you suck." Jadiel moves to get off the couch before pausing and leaning in, placing a wet kiss on Thorne's mouth and coating him in the scent of weed.
"You suck!" Jadiel peeps it out again, snickering as he makes his escape down into the basement. He's definitely less irritable and angry, though his penchant for being annoying has skyrocketed. But back in the basement, Jadiel's extreme focus is back in play almost immediately. He sits down with his computers, actually putting on music this time while he works. Thankfully he has enough stuff downloaded into one of his laptops that he doesn't need to ask for the internet to download anything. He's murmuring along with his music as he works, breaking out a soldering iron and working on building new wires.
 
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