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

"Fuck-!" Jadiel responds to the fist in his hair with a shriek, ripped away from the broken window and thrown immediately against the wall. His hands come up, pressing against the wallpaper as he tries to push back, tries to defend himself. He kicks, but he can't even tell if Thorne responds. There's no way he's going to be able to get himself out of this, physically. Jadiel cries out again as Thorne's fingers tighten harder still in his curls, bordering on ripping the damn hair out.

"Okay!" Jadiel's voice is slick with pain, coming out as almost a cry. His eyes are wrenched shut, his chest heaving as he struggles for breath. His flannel is lost somewhere, revealing the damage. His hand isn't hurt, which is good; working with broken or cut fingers would slow him down. On the back of his forearm, a decently long cut, but nothing deep or even close to life threatening. Blood dribbles down the outside of his elbow and drops to the floor. Jadiel's fists are shaking as Thorne presses him to the wall, explaining the situation again with a somewhat more impatient tone.
"Okay." Jadiel speaks again, voice quieter this time. He sucks in a shaky breath, scared to move. Thorne could hurt him, easily so, and far more seriously than just pulling his hair. "Fuck, dude, get off-" Jadiel waits until Thorne lets go before he turns, pressing his back to the wall and adjusting his glasses.
"So, what, you know everything about me?" Jadiel asks. Suddenly, he sounds angry. He was terrified before. Now he's leaking rage. "Then you'd know I'm a market dealer and I wouldn't give a flying fuck what showed up on the codes. Furthermore, I could erase and replace them for you, you fucking moron. You think I give a shit who anyone is? I get paid and I keep my mouth closed, coño." Jadiel calls him a cunt. He rolls his shoulders, sighing hard.

"I'm not using your tools." If Thorne wants to lay down groundwork and rules, Jadiel wonders if he can take a crack at it. Thorne needs him, after all. "I want my own shit. I want my computers, my drills. I want my own fucking wires, everything down to the nuts and bolts. And I want breakfast." Jadiel scowls, folding his arms over his chest childishly. If only Thorne had also discovered Jadiel was stubborn, stubborn enough to get him killed.
 
Thorne releases Jadiel when he stops struggling, but uses his body to block him from going anywhere. He listens to Jadiel’s rage, a smirk on his face. The shorter man has no hope of trying to intimidate Thorne, he just finds the rage amusing. Thorne sets his hand against the wall beside Jadiel’s head, leaning in close. “The serial numbers are engraved. On the thinnest portion of the pieces. Erasing the numbers means grinding it down and compromising the integrity of the pieces. And why would I pay for work I can get for free?”

Thorne leans away when Jadiel starts making demands. Reasonable enough demands, though an annoying setback. He clenches his jaw, and the mucle visibly twitches. Thorne would have to send men to Jadiel’s workshop to collect his entire setup. The basement here would have to be cleared to make space. Thorne isn’t happy about that. Then Thorne notices the cut, and the blood dripping on the floor, when Jadiel crosses his arms. “You can have breakfast after we deal with your idioitic would. Stop bleeding on my floor.”

Thorne roughly grabs Jadiel’s wrist, fingers digging into the bruising left behind by the belt last night. ”Jack, get this glass cleaned up and board up the window while I deal with this.” Thorne abruptly drags Jadiel back upstairs and back to the master bedroom. He shoves the boy against the counter as he pulls a first aid kit out from under the sink. “Wash your arm.”
 
When Thorne's hand comes down by his head, Jadiel's scowl deepens. He turns his face away, not wanting to listen to the other man anymore. Last night, he was moonstruck. Totally ass over teakettle about such a charming, sexy stranger. Now Jadiel wants to punch him right in the cock he was so greedily worshipping last night.
"Stop being a dick!" Jadiel retorts instantly when Thorne tells him to stop making a mess on the carpet. In defiance, Jadiel flails his arm around as he's dragged, sending splats of blood nearly up to the ceiling. Just as Thorne is showing his true nature now, so shall Jadiel. Petulant and punk.

In the bathroom, Jadiel hits the sink with a grunt and throws Thorne another dirty look, watching as he rummages for the first aid kit. Jadiel doesn't exactly want to bleed all over the place all day, so he does as he's told. He leans down into the sink, washing over his wound with hot water. It smarts pretty good, but it's not agonizing him or anything along those lines. No need for stitches, just a quick clean and a wrap up.
"You know, I thought you were so cool," Jadiel grumbles, his tone mocking. "If you'd like, kept up your nice guy attitude you probably could've gotten me to do this shit for free without being an asshole. Black market people are supposed to be cool, man, it's like our oath against the authorities. Stick it to the man, rage against the machine or fuckin' whatever." Jadiel is mumbling up a storm, nabbing the first aid kit from Thorne. He's intent on taking care of himself.

"Well, I hope you're excited to work with me." Jadiel is scowling at Thorne from the corner of his eye. "Because I don't plan on- Ow, fuck my ass-" Jadiel is hissing as he pours a bit of alcohol on his wound to clean it, hissing through his teeth and shutting himself up.
 
Thorne snorts as Jadiel starts rambling again, setting his hand on his hip. He watches Jadiel grab the kit from him, head tilting, then laughs when Jadiel curses. He moves close, pressing up against Jadiel’s backside and in turn pressing the boy against the counter. “We can certainly make that happen again.” Thorne takes away the alcohol, picking up clean gauze to dab the wound dry. His body traps Jadiel against the counter.

”Another thing everyone knows is that black market techs raise prices when they find out the wealth of their clients. And I’m not hard to find, with enough digging. I’m not dishing out money for something like this. Leaves too much of a trail. I don’t need my enemies knowing my arm is falling apart.” Thorne knocks away Jadiel’s attempts to ward him off, setting non-stick medical padding along the wound. He’s surprisingly skilled at one handed bandaging, wrapping Jadiel’s arm in gauze wrap, followed by elastic fabric bandaging tight enough for compression, but not tight enough to cut blood flow to his hand.

Thorne doesn’t back up yet. He picks up a washcloth and wets it under the still running tap, then brings it to Jadiel’s chest. He’s wiping away the blood smeared there when the shorter male had crossed his arms. “Be stubborn all you want, you will do as I say in the end.”
 
When pressed to the counter, Jadiel flinches minutely, but doesn't fight. He huffs noisily, letting Thorne do as he will, knowing he wouldn't get far if he squirmed anyway. Besides, what's the point? Even if this guy is some big-wig dickhead, Jadiel still can't help but think he's hot. His ass still aches, but the feeling of Thorne grinding against it doesn't hurt for some reason that Jadiel doesn't want to pay any attention to.
He catches Thorne's gaze in the mirror, eyes thin behind his glasses. Now that Thorne mentions it, Jadiel never thought of doing that; looking up his clients, that is. Jadiel figured it wasn't his business to figure out who they were. They paid and then they left. But jacking up prices according to what a client actually made is a smart fucking business tactic. Slimy, but smart. Jadiel might consider that when this whole mess is over.

Jadiel watches Thorne as the man gently wipes his chest down. He's two faced like that; rough, then surprisingly gentle. Jadiel can't quite figure him out, but the tech has never been great with people. His social skills are relatively mediocre.
"That's fine," Jadiel says, voice clipped. "I can do what you'll say. And you'll get me breakfast. I want Tio Juan. It's a breakfast place two blocks away from my place. I want one of their cheddar bagels with a hash brown and one of their orange smoothies. Also, I'm a vegan, so make sure you get the vegan bagel. I'll puke on your floor if you feed me dairy." Jadiel's mean scowl turns into a mean smirk. Kind of an odd character choice for him to be a vegan, but he's full of all sorts of fun little surprises that Thorne is sure to discover and just adore. He leans his head back into Thorne's chest suddenly, as if cuddling him. Two can play at the game of being an asshole, as Jadiel might put it. "Please, Papi?"
 
Thorne stares down at Jadiel as the boy increases his breakfast demands. His jaw clenches again, that muscle twitching. But he backs up from Jadiel, lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t push your luck. You can only make so many demands before my patience runs out.” Thorne leaves him standing there in the bathroom.

Downstairs, Thorne contacts his driver and sends him to get the requested breakfast, being specific about the vegan choices. Then he sends out instructions for Jadiel’s gear to be collected. A key to the shop isn’t necessary, more than one of Thorne’s men can pick locks and disarm alarms. Thorne settles on the couch in the living room, one leg bouncing. He’s needed a cigarette since yesterday, but always tries to go as long as possible between them. He’d been trying to quit for months, with no success. Maybe he should stop trying. With a sigh, he leans his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes. Inside the empty left sleeve of his tee, the neural ending connections spark and shock him. His face twists in brief pain.
 
"I mean it!" Jadiel calls over his shoulder from the sink. "I'll barf my brains out and one of your little boyfriends will have to mop it up!" When he thinks Thorne is good and gone, Jadiel sighs and rubs his hands over his face, contemplating. Something bad was bound to happen to him eventually. At the end of the day, at least he isn't dead. Jadiel focuses on trying to stay positive as he rummages around in the bedroom, looking for his phone and his shirt.

Coming up empty handed for both, Jadiel wanders back downstairs and finds Thorne on the couch, right when he face screws up in pain. It has something pulling at the strings of his heart. Thorne hasn't hurt him, apart from pulling his hair, but Jadiel was breaking his property. Trying to escape, sure, but- Jadiel doesn't like to see people suffer, even if it's his captor.
After some quick clattering in the kitchen, Jadiel comes back to Thorne. He's put on a scowl again as he flops down next to him and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the hardware. Jadiel adjusts his glasses and leans closer, fingers carefully searching through the wires he can see.
"This is faulty," Jadiel mumbles, finger looping around a red wire, barely thicker than a strand of hair. "It's one of the sensors connected to your elbow, I think. You'll need a replacement, it's burnt out here." Jadiel reveals whatever he took from the kitchen; a pair of shears meant for meat. The tech guides the wire out a little more carefully before simply cutting it. It leaves the wires exposed, but Jadiel holds them gently out of the way so they don't potentially zap on anything.
"Got any electrical tape?" Jadiel asks, peering up at Thorne. "I don't want these to touch. This is just a quick fix until I can get in your arm, and I make a new wire."
 
Eyes still scrunched, Thorne opens one when Jadiel drops onto the couch. He says nothing as the boy rolls up the sleeve and starts searching. As soon as the connection is severed, there’s instant relief and Thorne’s expression relaxes. The explanation makes sense; the arm is five years old, and has had zero maintenance. He lifts his right hand and takes the wire ends from Jadiel, also careful not to touch them. “There’s tape in the junk drawer beside the fridge. Though, I don’t think there’s much left.” Thorne had made patches to wires in his arm before, small things like tears, though, nothing like this problem.

Thorne waits for Jadiel to come back, then just stares at him. This small man is going to be such a pain in his ass, but Thorne can’t risk going to someone else, especially now. And while this one tiny wire fix might have seemed an easy solution, there’s a lot more wrong with the arm itself than what is immediately apparent.

Five minutes later, there’s a knock at the door and Anton lets Max, the driver, into the house. Max delivers the requested food to the living room coffee table, greeting Thorne and ignoring Jadiel completely. Thorne thanks him, then puts his foot on the coffee table between Jadiel and the food. “Where are your manners? Say thanks to Max.”
 
Jadiel hops from the couch and makes his way to where directed, taking note of what else might be in the junk drawer should he be able to make another quick and dirty fix like this one. Kitchen shears and some tiny pieces of tape aren't exactly what he's used to working with, but he can make do. He comes back to Thorne and takes the wires, carefully taping them up before easing them back into Thorne's empty socket, mindful not to bump anything else around. He's itching to get into Thorne's arm proper, and Jadiel is thinking about going to grab it when the knock on the door has his head tilting.

He glances at whichever one of Thorne's boyfriends this is, raising a brow at the fact that he doesn't so much as look at Jadiel. Whatever, he guesses. Maybe snobby wingmen are like that. He's about to just grab the bag and ignore Max right back when Thorne stops him. Jadiel stares briefly at Thorne's foot before shooting him an irritated glance. His face turns towards Max, deadpan.

"Thanks, Max." Despite his tone being sort of flat, he doesn't come off as overly unpleasant. At least, not entirely. He does look at the guy, so at least there's that. Jadiel turns back to his breakfast when Thorne moves his foot, sitting the bag in his lap and contentedly digging in. He's no stranger to sitting on the floor, looking up at Thorne's socket while he eats. Surprisingly, he's polite. He doesn't speak while he has food in his mouth and he even uses his napkin.
"So, how many people built your arm?" Jadiel asks. "Don't tell me you went to Thomas Brandford. I mean, don't tell me any of those stolen customs are shit he has scraped together." Of course there's all kinds of wars in the black market, turf and territory, but Jadiel is shameless when it comes to bitching about another technician and their crappy work.
 
Thorne dismisses Max when Jadiel says thanks, dropping his foot back to the floor. Max leaves the house, off to do whatever he wants until Thorne calls for him again. Thorne watches Jadiel eat, nothing better to do at the moment, and not up to turning on the tv. Thorne had eaten much earlier, but lunch probably wouldn’t happen. Not without his arm. Unless Jadiel offered to cook, which was extremely unlikely.

Thorne snorts in amusement when asked about his arm, and who built it. He shrugs, stretching his right arm across the back of the couch. “As if. His work is shoddy at best, dangerous at worst. Syuri Shen built my arm five years ago, with parts stolen,” Thorne pauses, smirking widely. “From Core Tech.”

Core Tech is the leading cybernetics company in the city, with the most up to date technology and in turn, the most expensive services. It’s also very strictly regulated by the government, and heavily guarded.
 
"Core Tech?" Jadiel parrots back, one brow raising. He lets out a low whistle. "Alright, alright, mister fuckin' moneybags. Man, years ago I got to play with a professor from there." His voice is almost dreamy as he reminisces. "It was so nice, man. Gold wires, crystal tubing. It was water filtered too, it looked so gorgeous when it was running. Custom screw caps and-" Jadiel realizes suddenly that he's rambling. He stops mid sentence and sort of shrugs, looking s little flustered.
"Yeah, it was cool." Jadiel focuses on his food, taking the smoothie out of the bag Max brought. Despite it being called an orange smoothie, it is decidedly more green. Perhaps one of those healthy breakfast things. Jadiel says nothing of it, so it must be correct. He nurses his straw absently, looking up to Thorne. The man was watching him eat, and suddenly Jadiel is wondering why.

"Do you- Are you hungry?" Jadiel shifts from the floor, taking his finished breakfast with him into the kitchen to throw the bag away. "Do you want me to cook you something? I'll be honest, I haven't eaten like, meat or animal stuff in years. But uhh, if you want, I'll make it for you." When Jadiel isn't busy in his garage, he does enjoy cooking. His diet requires creativity from time to time, so over the years he's actually learned how to be a passable cook. No Michelin five stars, but he'll get Thorne fed and happy.
 
Thorne only hums at the offer of cooking. This will certainly be interesting. Jadiel keeps flipping between angry to sympathetic, uncaring to kind, so quickly Thorne might get hypothetical whiplash. After a moment of silence, he does stand and follow his captive to the kitchen. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, nearby his left arm, but ignoring it.

"I don't really care if you cook for me. I won't die if I don't eat for one day." It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone without eating. Of course, he didn't do it often enough to put his muscled physique at risk, evidently. More often than not, he'd simply tough out the pain of the shortcircuiting. Thorne had gotten pretty good at reacting quickly and turning his body to avoid hitting things with his left arm when it would act up.
 
"Hmph." Jadiel doesn't respond with anything other than a huff when Thorne says he could care less if he gets anything to eat today or not. Jadiel loves food; he can't imagine going a whole day without eating. Funny that he enjoys snacks and whatnot so much considering his absolutely puny frame. He stands in the kitchen in front of the fridge, staring into it for answers. Eventually, things start hitting the counter. Cream, butter, a package of tortellini. Jadiel stares at a package of bacon, chewing his lip. Does he remember how to cook that? It can't be that hard.

The kitchen slowly starts to fill with scents of garlic and frying bacon. Thankfully he has a shirt on now rather than frying topless. Jadiel shimmies the pan of bacon with one hand, tossing the fresh tortellini in the other. He's making an alfredo sauce, from scratch apparently. That's something he does remember how to cook, though he's probably more familiar with a vegan alternative.
Twenty minutes pass and Jadiel puts the bowl down in front of Thorne. Not a professional job, but it smells surprisingly good.

"When do we go get my tools?" Jadiel asks, then stops and scoff. "Fuck you, when do your idiot boyfriends bring me my tools? Man, if they mess anything up in my apartment I'm gonna be pissed." Jadiel leans into the counter with his hip, arms crossed. Even if Thorne's men did muck up something in Jadiel's place, he won't know for quite some time considering the tech won't be able to see it until Thorne decides to let him go.
 
Thorne sits in silence as Jadiel cooks. He doesn‘t hide the fact that he’s staring, watching Jadiel move around. His mind is reliving the amazing sex from last night, and envisioning that small body impaled on his cock all over the house. The table hides the fact that his body is reacting to his thoughts. When Jadiel sets the food on the table in front of him, Thorne finally looks away from the boy, down at the bowl. He won’t lie; it looks good and smells even better.

Thorne looks up when Jadiel asks about his tools, then laughs when the boy voices aloud his opinion on Thorne’s ‘boyfriends’. “I have no relations with my men, Jadiel. They work for me, nothing more. Loyalty is all that holds them to me. Well, loyalty and money. As for your tools, you’ll get them this evening.” Thonre looks down again, then back up. “Jadiel, I am not going to eat this with my fingers.”
 
If Thorne was actually sleeping with his man, Jadiel isn't sure if he would care. He didn't think it to be true, not really, but it felt good to throw some kind of jab at Thorne, no matter how petty. He huffs and turns to the sink, washing his hands. Thorne's final statement had Jadiel's theoretical tail bristling.
"Are you asking me for a fork in your own house?" Jadiel questions, flicking his hands dry in the sink. "Oh my fucking Christ, you know, te voy a-" Jadiel is rambling instantly, going off in his native tongue at Thorne. He's more animated when he speaks, clapping his hands at Thorne and motioning around the kitchen. His mouth moves a mile a minute as he vents, shuffling through the drawers until he can find a fork.

"-Tonto hijo de puta!" Jadiel slaps the fork down next to Thorne's hand with a huff, catching his breath. He runs his fingers through his curls, shaking his head. Jadiel sits down across from Thorne with a muted thump, his orange smoothie in his hand.
"I should make you eat it off the floor." Jadiel pouts, stirring his smoothie with the straw and pointedly turning his nose away from Thorne. "Tell your men that I want the mason jar of pot in my kitchen. You'll be doing yourself a favor, i work better when I'm stoned and it'll be easier for me to put up with your crap." Jadiel sucks at his drink, shaking his head to himself. He can't pinpoint why he still feels bad for Thorne, that his arm causes him physical agony on what must be a daily basis. Neither of them are "good guys" by any means. Maybe Jadiel is reaping what he's sewn all his life; he deserves this annoying chapter in his existence.
 
Thorne had antagonized Jadiel on purpose, and hearing him go off in his own language brings Thorne endless amusement. It’s too easy to push this man’s buttons. Thorne’s shoulders are shaking with barely contained laughter, which breaks out when the fork is slammed down. Quiet chuckles can be heard from the hallway too, as Jack and Anton also find amusement in Jadiel’s angry tirade.

When the shorter man sits down, Thorne lits one foot and sets it on the edge of Jadiel’s seat, between his thighs. “I have better drugs than pot, you know. And you’d have so much more fun with it.” Thorne picks up the fork to start eating. He savours the first bite, casually tilting his foot back and forth, so it bumps lightly from thigh to thigh between Jadiel’s legs. “But, I’ll let you have that. However, you better have a window open when you’re smoking it. I don’t need my home smelling like a trash heap.”
 
The foot between his thighs has Jadiel glancing down, just enough to figure out what it is before his gaze darts right back to Thorne's. Better drugs. Jadiel snorts, rolling his eyes and turning his face away again.
"What, like the crap you drugged me with last night?" Jadiel says, clipped. "I wanna be stoned, not so fucking horny I literally think I'm gonna die. Yeah, I'll open a window. I'll even go outside if you want, let one of your little buddies take me out on a leash." Jadiel slouches in his chair. He hasn't bothered to move Thorne's foot, which is an interesting turn of events.

He can't put his finger on it. He wants to slap Thorne in the same hand that wants to jerk him off. Maybe it won't be so bad. He's got three hots and a cot, all- most -of his stupid demands will be met. He gets to work, which he absolutely loves. And judging from how Thorne is teasing and touching him, well; he likely won't be lonely at night. This guy is just such a smarmy motherfucker. Jadiel is kidnapped, a prisoner in this house. But it doesn't have to be so terrible, does it?

Jadiel's hand drifts down, touching over Thorne's ankle with blunt nails. He's almost tickling him, petting absently. He's still annoyed and might be for the next twelve seconds or so, judging by how badly his ADHD makes him bounce from topic to topic, one emotion to the next. He's a short fuse, but a quickly dying flame. Makes him hard to keep up with.
"What did you even give me?" Jadiel looks up, his tone a bit softer now. "Last night. You spiked my drink, didn't you? What the fuck was that?" Jadiel has heard of roofies and things of that nature, but nothing that would make him awake and so incredibly willing. Like Viagra with considerably more bells and whistles.
 
“You will not be going outside. That is out of the question. If you need sunlight, you can sit at the window.” Thorne can see Jadiel struggling, can read it on his face. The touch to his ankle makes him pause with the fork halfway to hismouth, but it’s only for a heartbeat, only enough for Jadiel to notice if he was really paying attention. Thorne doesn’t pull his foot away, letting Jadiel’s fingers trace his skin.

Thorne smiles when asked what it was he’d drugged Jadiel with. Smugly, he grins at the boy. “It’s called Nova. I created it, thus, I am the sole provider of it to those in this city. Well, technically. The pharmacy chain called Staywell Drugs? I own it as a front, sort of. It operates as a legal pharmacy chain, catering to the average citizen as normal. But a large portion of it’s profit goes to my factory, to produce Nova.” Thorne pauses again. “Why, do you want another sample?”
 
"No i don't want another sample, asshole." Jadiel scoffs, nails scritching Thorne's ankle for just a moment. Knowing his shit luck, Thorne isn't done drugging him against his will. He'll have to keep a bit of a side eye on Thorne should the man bring him anything else. Then again, Jadiel doesn't regret what happened last night. The only issue he has with it is the fact that he's sitting just a bit funny, slightly crooked in his slouched position. The sex was consensual in every way; Jadiel begged for it. He liked fucking Thorne. Loved it. The tech plays with his straw again as he thinks, still mindlessly petting at Thorne's ankle.

When the man finishes eating, Jadiel reaches wordlessly across the table and takes the bowl from him. He tidies everything up in the sink and puts the cleaned dishes back where he found them, storing the rest of the pasta in the fridge. Jadiel nabs Thorne's arm from the counter and sits down across from him again, peering over the machine. He obviously can't too much without opening it up, but it's cool to get a closer look now for the first time.

"If you want to fuck me again, all you have to do is ask." Jadiel smirks to himself, his eyes on the arm as he leans closer to it, examining some of the outer hardware. "Aren't your boyfriends in the house still? Sure they don't want to hear you stuffing my ass on your dining table. Or me fucking yours." Jadiel catches Thorne's gaze for a moment, that mean grin ghosting over his features. Thorne hardly seems like a bottom, but Jadiel has been surprised before.
 
Thorne bumps his foot against Jadiel’s thigh when the boy‘s nails scratch against his skin. He drops his foot to the floor when the boy stands, watching him clean up. He watches even closer when his arm is picked up. He wouldn’t put it past Jadiel to try breaking it worse.

Jadiel’s words make Thorne chuckle, and he puts his foot back up between the boy’s thighs. He sinks down in his seat a bit, enough to give him the reach needed to press his foot against Jadiel’s groin. “They’re not my boyfriends, Jadiel. And they’re no strangers to my.. habits. They’ve got earbuds.” Thorne says it so nonchalantly, like it wouldn’t be the first time. His foot moves, pressing lightly and rubbing slowly back and forth. “Besides, you haven’t earned my ass yet.”
 
Thorne's foot pressing against Jadiel's groin has him swallowing thickly enough to make the bob of his Adam's apple more visible than usual. His gaze tightens, dark and narrow, but it isn't with anger. He's tempting fate; curiosity killed the cat, but Jadiel thinks most people forget the end of that sentence. Satisfaction brought it back. His hand remains at Thorne's ankle, his other still on the table. He won't take the bait just yet.

"You don't like it when I call them your boyfriends," Jadiel says. He doesn't question it, though he is curious as to why Thorne has corrected him twice now even if he thought he was only teasing. Maybe it rubs him the wrong way.
"Oh, I have to earn your ass?" Jadiel asks, laughing openly. "You're such a prick. What, you're scared you'd like it too much? You've never had one of the short ones fuck you?" Jadiel remembers the thing that Thorne might like the most about him; his height, his size in general. He likes fucking Jadiel cause he's so little. He can pump him so full of cock and seed it leaves him bulging everywhere. Jadiel's cock twitches in his jeans at the memory, budding up from Thorne's attention.

"I don't think you could handle me with one arm." Jadiel says it like he's challenging Thorne. Last night, Jadiel was high off his ass on arousal and Nova, he was gagging for Thorne's cock. Now, he's stone sober and could easily fight back; rather, wriggle and squirm and just be generally irritating as Thorne tries to fuck him. That's part of the fun for Jadiel, the struggle. He has half a mind to power bottom his way through this and do whatever he wants to Thorne. Hell, Jadiel could get himself off and just leave the guy with blue balls, it wouldn't kill him. It's a charming idea for the tech.
 
Thorne’s foot presses more firmly in response to Jadiel’s teasing. He bypasses answering the comment about his men, preferring instead to reply to the quipped question. “I have extensive intimate experience. It’s not a matter of size when I’m on the receiving end, it’s a matter of trust. And I’ve been attacked one too many times in moments of intimacy.” Jadiel has yet to get a good look at Thorne’s backside, and he intends to keep it that way, for now. His words hold a heavy implication, though.

Thorne rumbles a laugh when challenged about having only one arm at the moment. “The interesting thing about having only one arm is that the learning curve is steep and rapid. You believe this to be a disability when in fact, it’s the opposite. Yes, I have better chances with my left arm, but without it, there’s no electrical shocks to slwo me down.” This entire time, Thorne’s foot has been steadily rubbing back and forth against Jadiel’s groin, and he can feel the boy’s body responding. “And for the record, it’s so much fun to see you squirming and begging under the influence of Nova.”
 
Thorne has been attacked. Were they more emotionally entwined, or if the mood were a bit different, Jadiel might want to talk about that. He'd ask if Thorne was alright, if he wanted to discuss it or set some boundaries between them. Jadiel can't imagine that sort of thing, and privately, he wants to know that Thorne is okay. But, right now doesn't seem like the time to have that discussion. Jadiel is almost fully hard in his jeans and his breathing is just a bit heavier. He flinches, his thighs jerking like he's trying to shut them. There's no sense in pretending his isn't affected by what's going on, but Jadiel doesn't mention it.

"It's almost like you're implying you couldn't have me squirming and begging without the Nova," Jadiel muses, taunting Thorne again. He clears his throat, shifting in his seat. Jadiel reaches down with his free hand and minutely adjusts his jeans. He glances over his shoulder towards the rest of the house, chewing at the inside of his cheek. While he's fine with fooling around like this, the idea of fucking in an open area of the house oddly has him feeling shy. Thorne says his men are used to Thorne's intimate habits, but Jadiel isn't. They are total strangers who could walk in at any time. The tech is looking a bit pink around the collar. He looks back to Thorne, eyes a bit glassy.

"I'm not fucking you in the kitchen," Jadiel says, trying to keep his tone cool. "You can bring me into the bedroom, or somewhere with a door. Or I can go hide in your bedroom and take care of myself, and you can jack off at this table for all I care. I don't -" Jadiel's voice strains as Thorne keeps teasing him and he hisses. He shakes his head, trying to literally shake it off. "I would like some privacy. I'll even let you drug me, if you think you can't keep up." Jadiel smirks, his thumb brushing at the underside of Thorne's foot, tickling at him again.
 
Thorne can see Jadiel’s resolve breaking. He can hear it in the boy’s voice, can see it in his body language. Thorne smiles when Jadiel looks toward the hallway. There it is, the crack, the give. He can feel Jadiel’s erection under his foot. He‘s smug when Jadiel voices his thoughts. He pulls his foot away, standing and walking around the table. He leans over Jadiel, close, lips so close to the boy’s mouth. “The Nova isn’t for my benefit, Jadiel.”

Thorne takes hold of Jadiel’s wrist, pulling him up, pulling him along. They pass Anton, who grins and jokingly waves at Jadiel. Of course he’d heard the conversation, they hadn’t exactly been quiet. Thorne leads Jadiel back upstairs, back to the bedroom. He pushes him toward the bed, then moves to the dresser. A lockbox sits on top, and opens to Thorne’s fingerprint. From it, he pulls a small orange bottle, deftly opening it and dumping out a tiny white pill.

Thorne returns the bottle to the lockbox before walking over to stand in front of Jadiel. He pushes the boy to sit down, then places his knee between his thighs. “Open your mouth, Jadiel.” Thorne only gives the boy a heartbeat to respond before gripping his jaw with three fingers. Index finger presses the corner of Jadiel’s mouth, hard, until he opens, then his thumb slides the tiny pill in, under his tongue. He pulls his thumb back before Jadiel can bite. “Swallow or don’t it makes no difference.”
 
It's not for Thorne's benefit. Jadiel raises a brow, about to ask what that means, when they're on the move. Jadiel lets out a funny squeak as he's whisked from the table, stumbling along behind Thorne through the halls. He glances at Anton and offers the man his middle finger, scooting closer to Thorne as he's tugged to the bedroom.

Jadiel lands on the bed with a comical 'oof', bouncing slightly until Thorne comes down on top of him. He sits up, pushing himself a bit more upright on his palms, looking up to Thorne. Of course he's about to mouth off until Thorne bullies his lips apart.
"A-ahgh-!" Jadiel lets out a funny noise of protest as Thorne urges the pill beneath his forked tongue. He almost coughs on it, but after a moment, Jadiel does manage to swallow. He isn't really used to taking pills dry, but Jadiel manages this one.
"I would have done it!" Jadiel protests, but he could easily be lying. The tech swallows thickly again, leaning back into the headboard and adjusting his jeans again. This time, he simply unbuttons them, easing the tension beneath the denim. Thorne is likely to get him fully nude sooner or later.

The apprehension of the drugs kicking in has Jadiel breathing a little harder. If he remembers right, they kicked in way too fast. He already feels itchy with nerves.
"Do you ever take it?" Jadiel asks suddenly. "The Nova, I mean. Just out of curiosity?" The tech shrugs, gaze somewhat lidded. Maybe Thorne likes the feeling. Jadiel wouldn't be surprised; it felt good, if not painfully arousing. At least Thorne took care of him.
 
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