Hoyt/Jason
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You will read more about Vaas in the next update!
Jason is returned to Hoyt's office, being shoved into it by the filthy hand of the pirate behind him. He stumbles and falls to his hands and knees but Jason is quick to collect himself and stand tall again, glaring over his shoulder at the man who pushed him. The pirate gives the American a nasty smirk and reaches out to grab him by the back of his shirt, leading him closer towards the man behind the desk with a cigar resting, smoking in the coconut ashtray. Vaas is nowhere in the room and it gives Jason's mind some sense of relief but not entirely. He's slightly confused by the man in front of him, dressed up like an Italian mob boss, well, in a pair of blue jeans.
"Hello Jason," the dark haired man welcomes Jason with a smile, turning his chair so that he is now facing the American, picking up the half smoked cigar. "Have a seat, get comfortable," Hoyt says nonchalantly, motioning for Jason to sit in the leather chair in front of him.
The two men stare at one another and after a moment stuck in Hoyt's frightening grin, Jason finally takes a seat, hands reaching for the edge of the torn arm rests. The sun light shining through the large windows behind Hoyt causes Jason to squint and Hoyt notices this, waving his hand at one of the pirates to pull just the two damaged blinds, leaving the others open to let some of the light shine watches the pirate pull the plastic blinds down to the floor and he makes his way back over towards the front door.
Hoyt leans into his desk, resting his arms across it and he expels the smoke from a little slit between his lips, keeping his eyes on Jason, who seems to be looking at anything and everything but him.
"Eh Jason, you're the one whose been killing off Vaas' pirates?" Hoyt asks with a sly grin, bringing his hand up to take another hit off his cigar. Jason turns his head and captures Hoyt's emerald eyes. He nod s his head just like that, the expression on the younger man's face just as sly as Hoyt's, lips in a straight line.
Hoyt chuckles, taking a long hit from his cigar, leaning back in his chair. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Everything seems to have escalated pretty quickly, and Hoyt is standing with his hands balled into tight fists upon his desk. Jason's eyes are blown wide and his body has jerked back in the chair but Jason isn't going to let this man become a new reason for his fear. He's doing his best to stand his ground, keeping strong eye contact with the older man before him, who has a wicked fire burning in his eyes. Jason's grip on the leather arm rests of the chair goes slack and with just a blink of his eyes, the American finds himself on the floor, staring up at the new source of danger.
Hoyt is on his knees with one of his hands around Jason's throat and the other pulling at the back of his head near his stitches w hich causes Jason great pain.
"Fuck!" a curse slips passed Jason's lips and his eyes are pinched shut, feeling the beat of his heart pick up along with his breathing. At this moment, Jason is afraid of the man above him ripping out the stitches and sooner than later, Hoyt removes his hand from the back of Jason's head, holding it in Jason's line of vision to show him the fresh blood on his knuckles. Jason knew it.
A smile creeps upon Hoyt's lips and their eyes meet. His fingers around Jason's throat tightens, earning Hoyt a struggled cough. "You are my property now, boy, you no longer have the control, and you will never have power over anything or anyone like you thought you had before!" Hoyt spits at Jason, face to face and their noses are just an inch away from touching. The man's breath reeks of smoke and his eyes are full of hell fire. Hoyt smiles down at Jason, big enough so that his pearly whites begin to show and he tightens his gri p on the American's throat, feeling Jason's Adam's apple struggle to bob up and down with each swallow.
Jason grits his teeth and his jaw starts to ache. He's pissed and he's totally fearful of the man above him. He coughs a few times just before completely struggling to breathe, using his own two hands to claw at the one at his throat, eyes hardly open.
"I'm Hoyt, your fucking boss and I expect you to please me, do whatever you're told, speak when you're spoken to, do you understand me boy?!" Hoyt growls and watches Jason gasp, desperately trying to loosen the hand at his throat. There are tears in Jason's eyes and his sun burnt face begins to turn a deeper shade of red, legs kicking. Hoyt's free bloody hand reaches the hem of Jason's dirty blue t-shirt and slides up underneath it, meeting the hot skin of his stomach. Jason is too distracted by his obstructed breathing to notice what Hoyt is doing.
Jason fights hard against Hoyt, pinching his hand with his jagged nails, even trying to knee him between the legs but his movements are useless and he nears unconsciousness. His vision is blurred and there is a soft ringing in his ears. At the last minute, just before Jason falls victim to unconsciousness, Hoyt lets go with a pleased sigh, gazing down at the purple bruising around Jason's throat. He smiles at the sight, continuing to feel the toned stomach beneath his bloody hand. Jason starts hacking, using his own hands to carefully rub at the tender skin at his neck, noticing the throbbing of his stitches quickly turn into an irritating itch that he's too afraid to scratch. Hoyt sees that Jason has his eyes closed and he gives him a burning slap across the face; Hoyt is taken by surprise when Jason retaliates and reaches out with his hands in an attempt to grab the older man's neck but Hoyt is fast and grabs Jason by the wrists, holding them down above his head.
Hoyt's fingers are extremely tight around Jason's wrists just like they had been around his throat and it gets his heart racing like before. "You are a naughty one, aren't you?" Hoyt teases Jason with a cocky smirk, tilting his head to one side, licking his chapped lips. Jason gives Hoyt the most disgusted look he'd ever seen and Jason spits a warm ball of snot in Hoyt's general direction. It lands on the bridge of Hoyt's nose and he starts to laugh, Jason watching his shoulders bob and a few pieces of his dark hair fall over his forehead.
The few pirates that are watching are uneasy as hell, drumming their fingers against their weapons. They all know what Hoyt is capable of; all they need to do is keep their mouths shut and stand still as physically possible and they won't get hurt. Hoyt's eyes have never left Jason's and when they do, Hoyt is gazing up and across the room at the pirates. He motions for them with a little jerk of his head and it makes Jason uneasy and he starts to wiggle like a worm on a line. Jason can hear the pirates'quick footsteps and once they're standing beside Hoyt and Jason, one of them is ordered to bind Jason's wrists and the other is quick to bind his ankles. The rope is tight and Jason squirms, arching his back up off the wooden floorboards trying to release the binds but at the moment, he's just going fucking crazy.
Jason is flat on his back, arms strained above his head, knees bent up, pulling against the rope at his ankles.
He stares up at the three men around him. They're all smiling and the sight causes Jason to burst into another childish rampage. "FUCK YOU!" Jason spits violently and Hoyt notices the little vein alongside his bruised neck. Hoyt dismisses the pirates out of the room and the sudden silence of the room, complete silence, no coughing, no sneezing from the pirates, makes Jason's body break out in a cold sweat. He's quickly regretting cursing so harshly at Hoyt. He's regretting ever thinking of the words, hell, he's regretting ever being fucking alive at this moment.
Jason's biting at his bottom lip, his palms becoming very clammy, his toes curling in his shoes. He watches Hoyt disappear behind the desk beside him and the sound of a drawer being opened and closed has Jason thinking of the most awful scenarios. His mind instantly runs to Keith and the terrible pain that had been inflicted upon him. He wants to scream, he really wants to fucking scream!
"Hoyt, Hoyt please, pl-please don't...please!" Jason completely loses it and begs; he already feels broken. A recognizable 'hm' catches Jason's attention and the familiar sound of the same drawer squeaking open and closed has the American thinking more than he ever has in his life. He closes his eyes, breathes in deep and lets it all back out, coughing as he does so. It hurts to swallow but that pain isn't what's bothering him right now. Hoyt's dress shoes click against the floorboards and he reappears in Jason's vision. Jason swallows again and winces at the burning pain.
The older man tilts his head to one side and smiles down upon Jason. He kneels over Jason and brings one hand up to his hair and brushes the locks. "That's what I thought," Hoyt's accented voice is unexpectedly soft and Jason doesn't move a fucking muscle, he doesn't even breathe as Hoyt brushes his hair.
Hoyt pulls out a pocket knife from the inside of his jacket and leans over Jason to cut the rope at his wrists and then goes for the rope at his ankles. "You will stand up and remove your clothes," Hoyt orders nonchalantly, using his knife as his finger, drawing an invisible line up and down the length of Jason's body, standing back up straight. Hoyt's first command makes Jason's palms sweat and his throat tighten but as he's told, Jason is cautious of Hoyt when he stands up and soon realizes he has to get his shoes off first before anything else. Jason's eyes suddenly meet Hoyt's and he bends down onto one knee and carefully begins to untie the first shoe with a shaking hand.
Jason's aware of how badly his hands are shaking but he tries not to worry about it. There is a sudden tapping above Jason's head, against the desk. Jason doesn't know what the sound is or why it is happening but it causes him to untie a little bit faster.
The tapping against the desk continues. Jason swallows loud enough for Hoyt to hear, no doubt about that, and he stands up, using his toes to ease both of his feet out of the confines of his torn up shoes. His once paper-white socks are now the color of dirt with an acorn sized hole at one heel and tear across the top of the other where he had tripped over a large tree root, cutting it in the process.
The tapping hasn't stopped and Jason turns his head to see Hoyt tapping the tip of his knife against the desk, creating tiny indents as he does so. The expression on his face makes Jason swallow and he brings his eyes back down at the knife in Hoyt's hand.
"Who the hell takes that long untying a pair of battered shoes?" Hoyt's tone and accent are so strong to Jason's ringing ears he can barely understand what he's saying. The tapping stops and the buzzing in Jason's ears finally subsides but he still has Hoyt to worry about. What the hell is Jason supposed to say? Instead of remaining speechless and staring awkwardly at Hoyt, Jason lazily shrugs his shoulders and at the second he executes the simple up and down motion, Jason's throat is quickly overpowered by the same pair of tight fingers but this time Hoyt pulls him towards him.
The grip isn't as powerful as before but it frightens Jason nonetheless. The heat of the jungle seeps in through the open windows of the large room and Jason can see a few sweat beads here and there across Hoyt's forehead. Jason can feel collecting on his own skin.
Jason furrows his brows and stares off into Hoyt's eyes but he doesn't dare try to escape his hold. "I am a very impatient man Jason, so I recommend you take your clothes off a lot fucking faster!" Hoyt growls and lets Jason go with a shove, which only has him stumbling backwards. Jason takes those words of his to heart and pulls of his damp socks and then removes his shirt up over his head, letting it fall from his sweaty fingers to the floor behind him. He swallows again and Jason picks up on Hoyt quietly humming in front of him. Jason is good at not keeping good eye contact with Hoyt and that's something that Jason is going to have to learn the hard way unfortunately, being as stubborn as he is, but until then, screw it!
Jason gazes down at his two feet, at the dirt between his toes and he sucks in his bottom lip, unbuttoning the front of his dirty jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper. He doesn't notice that he's biting down on his lip until the tangy taste of blood splatters the inside of his mouth. Hoyt openly chuckles this time and it sends hot shivers down Jason's spine.
"Stop," Hoyt says out loud and Jason ultimately freezes, letting his arms fall at his sides.
Jason tries not to watch Hoyt as he circles him but he can't keep his eyes down. He has no idea what this man is capable of and he doesn't want to miss a single thing. A warm hand meets the back of Jason's shoulder and gently massages the heel into the muscle; the sudden touch causes Jason to react with a jerk but it's nothing that Hoyt finds 'disrespectful'. He can feel Hoyt's eyes burn into him, burn into him so deeply that Jason's afraid the man will rob his soul.
"No need to be so tense boy, I'm just checking for any flaws," Hoyt says with a smile; Jason turns his eyes away from Hoyt's strong gaze and tries to think of his friends, of Liza...of Ceria?
Hoyt finishes up obviously gawking at Jason's body and picks up his clothes and shoes, setting them on top of his desk as he takes a seat in the leather seat behind it. What the hell is Jason supposed to do now, just stand here topless with his pants undone? Jason curses violently over and over inside his head, locking the words deep inside his mind in case he might have to use them; Jason wants to remember why he's pissed off and who's pissed him off.
His testicles must have grown a size or two bigger because he's glaring daggers at Hoyt now, watching the man's lips curve up into a half smile. "I want my shirt back!" Jason spits, slamming his hands down on top of Hoyt's desk, causing the items inside to knock around. Hoyt simply smirks at Jason, stands up which has Jason slowly backing away with the same expression and he wanders on over to Jason, grabbing him by the hips from behind. Hoyt holds Jason in place and inches himself close to him, lining his pelvis with Jason's butt. Jason's eyes are blown wide and his sub-conscious is crying out to him; his body is aching and he soon notices the sour feeling in his gut.
Hoyt's mouth presses up against Jason's warm neck and just a second before Jason is able to fight back, the front door opens and a loud, "FUCK!" rings wildly in Jason's ears, bouncing off the walls inside his fucking mind. Jason can feel the wet lips of Hoyt's mouth move into a wicked smile and he starts to move his hips against Jason's back side.
"Like what you see Vaas?"