tofi's trail

A kick to the face was the reward for a snarky comment. Jack spat blood and part of a tooth bounced on the dirty floor tiles. He ran his tongue along the cut-off tooth still within his mouth; out of all the things that he’d been through in his life, it had to be a kick given by his lover’s despicable old man that actually left lasting damage.

“You filthy, depraved mongrel,” the older man snarled at him. Jack glared up at him from his position on the floor. He was stuck in a dark dungeon buried deep underneath the ground, his magic locked away by the chains that kept him close to the wall. Not that that rendered him harmless, though nobody realized it. “You deserve this. You deserve to die. Much more painfully than what’s in store. You dare lay a hand on my son. You will face the consequences, deviant scum.”

A smile slashed across Jack’s face, twisted and wicked, a bleeding wound cut by a sharp blade, but his eyes were cold and truthful. “You’re the scum, Mr. Royal. Your son wanted everything I did, he asked for it and he fucking loved every minute of it. You denying that isn’t going to change that.” The man could deny it all he wanted, he could even get Jack convicted and executed for crimes he had not committed — which was pretty ridiculous, because he could just get him executed for crimes he actually had committed if only he bothered to look into his past with some thorough investigation— and he could be so cruel that he didn’t listen at all to his son’s grief-stricken pleas. Jack climbed to his feet, and stared the royal straight in the eye. Eyes the color of his beloved, but so much colder. “You don’t give a fucking shit about him, or what he feels. You don’t care that he’s a person with feelings. All you care about is that he’s yours, that it’s your family, that your reputation is at stake. Because he chose to be with someone that actually cares about him. Because he’s with someone who wants him to be happy. Just because we’re both men and because the way we express ourselves and our feelings for each other is different. You’re the fucking criminal who’s kept on hurting him, you’re the one who deserve to die for what you keep doing to him- to all your children. I care about him, I care about him a whole hell of a lot, unlike you, who don’t give a fuck about him being his own person.”

He didn’t get to talk uninterrupted, but despite the blows that the man aimed at him- weak and pathetic- he kept talking. Jack knew that the man hated to think the thought that his son was different, that he had his own way of thinking, that he was a deviant.

“Shut up, shut up you twisted son of a whore! My son is not as abnormal like you! He is a Silva, he is royalty! You’re just filthy dreg worth less than a pebble!”

Jack kept smiling, kept retorting, kept insulting and kept talking about Nozel. Nozel who would look so beautifully unravelled underneath him, stained with blood and cum and passion. Beside his father in the King’s audience chamber, he had still been beautiful, but he had been frightened and upset, shivering and truly helpless.

It was far more painful to remember his expression of that time, his body language, than Jack would have ever imagined that it might be.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that pain.

Most of all, he didn’t like the agony etched into his lover’s skin, and if it so was the last thing he did, which it probably would be, he wanted to do something to at least alleviate it, even if it was just a little. Even if it was twisted, and corrupted his love for him.

...

The chains rattled loudly with each movement Jack made. He looked at the thick cuffs clasped around his wrists, and he wiggled one a little. They were tight and difficult to move at all, but he saw a sliver of red from where they have chafed. They cut off the flow of mana, disabling him from using magic. In the eyes of the nobility, surely that was the worst part of the punishment; not being able to use magic.

He had messed up. But this would have been his fate had anyone found out about what he had done before becoming a magic knight anyway. Sometimes he was even surprised that nobody had checked- the nobility was furious when they found out that Julius had given captainhood to a commoner. Not as furious as when Yami had gotten his own, brand new squad, but furious enough. Had they gone to his hometown, to the shit-stain that was Farka, had they gone beyond the white-painted houses to talk to the people hiding in the gutter, they would have eventually found out the truth about him. But they were too fine for that, it was beneath them to go so out of their way, to the middle of nowhere, the end of the fucking world.

The door groaned as it opened, and Jack shifted his gaze up. In his pristine clothing and ridiculous hairdo, the little princess looked incredibly out of place in the filthy dungeon. “Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Royalty,” Jack said, and he spread his hands as if to welcome him to his home. “Here to spew curses over me like your dear old man was?”

Nozel had stopped in front of him, and he wore that expression where he looked down on everyone and everything. It was an expression that sort of suited him, yet also didn’t. It was an expression that made Jack want to fuck him up. He needed to fuck him up. Jack felt the steel of the normal knives, entirely unmagical, that he kept hidden away on his person press against his skin even more clearly- the people in the royal capital never thought of checking people for material weapons, because to them, magic was the only weapon worth their time. To Jack, a simple knife was the most familiar weapon of all.

“What he chooses to do with his time is not up to me,” the little nobleman said slowly. His voice and expression were so composed it made Jack’s skin crawl, and images of other times when the man had desperately been trying to keep his composure was passing through his mind. “Even though he says that he’ll watch with joy as they cut off the head of his sons rapist?” He saw how Nozel flinched. He saw how his face shifted with emotion. He saw how he tried to remain composed. Fuck it turned him on to see the man battle with himself, with his own emotions and with what was expected of him. Fuck, Jack knew he was messed up and that he shouldn’t be turned on in this situation, where he was just sitting around waiting to be brought to the chopping block, but it didn’t matter. He had the messed up stuff in his genes, had inherited it from his messed up mother and had grown into it as he grew up, thanks to the way she had brought him up. Thanks to how he was simply by nature. That was why he enjoyed the way the agony won over the other emotions reflected on Nozel’s face. That was why, at the same time, seeing that expression hurt. He needed it to hurt differently. “He won’t listen to me. Even as I try to explain, he won’t have it. He refuses to believe that I could ever choose to be with another in such fashions-...particularly with somebody who isn’t nobility, though he surely would never forgive that either.”

“That’s because you’re seriously fucked up in the head, princess.” Nozel tensed, his whole body going rigid. “Nobody who’s sane would let another man cut them up and fuck them like that. You should be locked up for your own safety.” The chains rattled when Jack stood, and he loomed over Nozel. Nozel didn’t move, and Jack put a hand to his chin to twist his head so his face was turned up at him. “Trusting people like me with your life. You’re seriously insane.” But JAck was way worse. That vile old man Silva was right. “Insane people are so easy to trick into being willful slaves.”

Nozel was too stiff, too locked in shock at the words Jack spewed at him, and he didn’t stand a chance when Jack twisted, pressed him up against the wall, tangling his wrists and his neck in the chains and trapping him there. Steel flashed in the dim light cast by the magical torch that fell and rolled across the floor, and pressed against pale, supple skin just near a pulsing vein. “And you make for one crazily eager, sick slave.” He could feel the little nobleman shiver underneath him. Jack pressed his lips close to Nozel’s ear. Tasted his little bird’s skin with a tender touch and cruel word. “You’ll be my slave until either of us die, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be me who does so first.” The smell of blood hit his nose when the knife cut through skin, a thin fine line, so close to where he could easily end the other mans life. He licked up the trail of blood, feeling the taste go straight to his cock. He felt so hot, and at the same time, he wanted to throw up. “I’m going to die, and you’re to blame.”

“Jack—”

“And now you’ve come like this,” Jack cut Nozel off before he could really say anything. Jack trailed the knife along his throat, slipping it in under the fabric at the gap by his chest. “with no guards, offering yourself up like the good little slave that you are. I bet that anyone who knows how you’ve allowed me to debase you looks down on you now, and they’d look down on you even more if they knew everything. Your reputation would be completely ruined if they found out.” He cut through the fabric, slashing downward to expose more and more of the royal’s chest. “I’ll let you know something that’d make you lose so much face that you’d have to leave your position and wouldn’t even be able to escape into the seclusion of a monastery.” His knife stopped at Nozel’s navel, a little bit above his belt. “My mother was a whore. My father was some random foreigner whose name I don’t even know.” The knife slid further down, scraping across fabric but not cutting. “I used to whore myself out too, because we were that poor. Probably caught some disease that I’ve given to you.” That was a lie. He always, after he left that life behind, made sure that he was clean and if he wasn’t, he made sure to get treated before doing anything that could infect his pretty little nobleman with anything actually dangerous. “I should let your old man fuck me to infect him. A small but easy revenge for what you’re letting him do to me, right?” Nozel shook his head. At a loss for words, he barely even got out the whine that erupted his throat. “No? Then what if he fucked you instead to make up for it? Infect him through you.” Silence and a lack of movement met those words, and Jack’s smile twitched, then widened further. He felt sick to the stomach. But he had already decided; there was no turning back. “You’d actually let him fuck you? You really are fucked in the head. You must’ve been fucked stupid by way more people than me to have become such a slut.” Nozel shook his head even harder. “I didn’t- I didn’t let anyone but you do that.” Jack pressed the knife closer to Nozel’s thigh. “You didn’t? That’s so sweet, I’m almost touched. I fucked people other than you, though.” Lies. “But I gotta say, you were the most promiscuous and eager one of all, princess. But I’m not entirely finished with my story, so be quiet.” The sound that Nozel made sounded almost jealous. That truly was sweet. And so fucked up. Jack wanted to take him right then, the way he used to. But he couldn’t. “I’ve killed people. Way before I became a magic knight. Just go to Farka and ask about all those disembowelled women thirteen and more years ago. Oh, and one more important detail you might find interesting. The last one I murdered before coming to take that ridiculous magic knight exam, you know who that was?” He was silent for several heartbeats, building up the impact that his words would have. “My mother.”

Jack had known that saying that would make Nozel react. Nozel who, half a lifetime ago, had lost his own mother, and still mourned and was in such pain over it that he couldn’t bear to look at his own little sister. Nozel who wouldn’t be able to understand how anyone could do anything to hurt their own mother, who wouldn’t be able to understand how anyone could kill their own mother. Because he had loved his own mother more than anything. Because his own pain was still so raw, like a wound that kept being picked at and not allowed to scab and scar and heal. Fifteen years down the road and he still suffered from his mother’s death. And as such, he would never be able to understand, no matter the motives. As a result, he would not be able to forgive Jack. That was what he needed.

Nozel thrashed back against Jack. He attempted to break free of his hold and of his chains. The knife sliced a deep wound into his thigh, and the smell of blood permeated the air. Jack slammed him back against the wall, and he pressed the knife close to his spine. He tightened the chain around his neck and Nozel desperately gasped for air.

“Now now, princess. It’s far too late for that. It’s your own fault for dropping by, thinking I would never do anything to you against your will. But,” The knife pressed even closer, breaking both cloth and skin. “If you scream, if you let out any noise, I’ll cut through your spine. Not even your precious magic tools can heal paralyzation. So be a good slave and keep quiet while I use you as I want.”

Nozel was shivering again. Shivering with emotions mixed on his face. Anger. Fear. Hatred. (It was bad. Good.) But he did stand perfectly still. And he pressed his lips tightly together. So obedient, his precious little bird. Loosening the chains around Nozel’s neck just enough to give him some air, Jack pressed up against him, pressed his clothed cock against his ass and his back so that he could feel how hard he was. Despite everything. Jack moved the knife into his other hand, held it pressed against Nozel’s spine. He slipped his empty hand down to Nozel’s thigh, and he dipped his fingers in the blood, dug his nails into the wound. Nozel let out a pained noise, unable to completely keep it down, and as a punishment (once it would have also been a reward), Jack buried his nails deeper. He held them there for some moments, feeling how Nozel was tense and shaking and trying to hold his pain in check. When Jack pulled his hand away, Nozel slumped forward, and Jack moved his hand up to his chest. He smeared blood on his skin, drew lines on his slender form, and he pressed his fingers to the man’s lips. “You know what to do,” he told him, and after some hesitation that was rewarded with a tug on the chain wrapped around his neck, Nozel parted his lips to mumble “Carnation,” the word they used for Nozel to tell him that he really wanted Jack to stop, but Jack ignored him for the first and only time, and he slipped his fingers into his mouth, past shivering lips. “Go on,” Jack prompted, and after some moments of perfect standstill, Nozel slid his tongue along the digits. He sucked and nibbled lightly, and it caused electricity to run up Jack’s spine. No matter what, it seemed it was always hot to have the man do that. Man, he was fucked up. He wanted to make him suck him off too, but there was a chance that he’d use the opportunity to break free and flee. But not yet. Maybe in a bit.

Jack pulled his fingers free of Nozel’s mouth, and the whine the man couldn’t keep down went straight to Jack’s cock. Fucking hell, Nozel was just as fucked up as Jack was. Maybe Jack had just done so much to him over the years that he couldn’t help it, even in a situation like this. Maybe that was why he turned out ot be rock hard, when Jack hooked his hand into the tear in the trouser fabric and ripped to reveal both the man’s ass and his cock. “Fuck, princess, you’re really eager even now. Your cock is dripping. I guess I trained you good.” When Jack grasped Nozel’s cock and twisted his grip around it, he could hear the man’s breath shiver, and could feel him arch against him. He felt a warm wetness spill against his fingers, and when he turned his gaze down, his smile cut across his face. “You’re sick,” he stated, watching the cum shine on his fingers. “Seriously sick. You should get yourself checked into a madhouse.”

“Shut... up-...” Nozel breathed out past wet lips. Jack sliced the knife into his skin, deep enough to touch bone, and Nozel was forced to stifle a cry of pain. “Thought I told you to be the one to shut up, pet.” Nozel glared at him with that mixture of emotions. Jack prevented himself from sucking in a sharp breath at the intensity.

Fuck.

He slipped his fingers in between them, freed his aching cock from his trousers, and he spread Nozel’s ass open best he could with only one hand. He had gone in raw and without preparation before, but he wasn’t entirely going to do that. Only just barely. He shifted the knife back into the hand with maneuverability. Nozel hissed as the cut he drew into his skin stung, and blood flowed. He drew lines into his lower back, carved his mark deep into his skin. Nozel shook at the pain, agony on his breath. A moment later, Jack had replaced the knife by Nozel’s spine, and he rubbed his cock between Nozel’s ass cheeks. Nozel bit his lip to stifle the continued hisses when Jack rubbed against the cut. With only the nobleman’s blood to slick himself and the hole up, Jack pressed his head against the ring of muscles, and he pressed inside, hard and sharp. Only the chain tightening around Nozel’s throat strangled the pained cry, and Jack felt Nozel’s fingers twitch and search for any form of purchase. Jack pressed closer, pressed further. He pulled back almost all the way out, and slammed into him again. Again and again. He let the chain loosen and tighten at intervals, and he felt Nozel shiver and shake, clench and relax, suffocated his moans and felt and saw him cum. The man had completely lost control over his own body, and had it not been for the cold, filthy stone wall in front of him and Jack’s body behind him, he would surely have collapsed in a boneless heap on the floor. The man didn’t seem to notice or care that Jack had retracted the knife and let it fall to the floor.

Eventually, Jack let the chains loosen and let Nozel slide to the ground. The man was a mess, his eyes were glossed over, his face was dirty, with tear tracks staining his flushed cheeks. Cum was pooling out of him, and his own stained the wall and his skin and clothes. Jack’s chest was tight, a pain achin within his whole being. Jack shifted the chains, letting them release his wrists, and using those still wrapped around his neck to guide him into turning around. Jack crouched down to kiss him, one last, soft kiss, and though Nozel tried to recoil, he had no energy for it.

It was the cry of pain that Jack finally allowed Nozel to release that finally alerted the guards outside, though they really should have realized that something was wrong due to the time that passed, and the sound of skin hitting skin, of chain grinding against chain.

They found Jack with his teeth buried in Nozel’s throat, blood bubbling around his wide open mouth, and when they wrenched Jack off of him, Nozel let our another cry.

The look that he directed at Jack was one of utter betrayal, and it was the last expression that Jack saw before the prison cell turned pitch black once more, as the door slammed shut.

The guards would later return, giving him a beating within the inch of his life. All the while, Jack couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

...

In retaliation to the attack, Nozel’s father appeared in Jack’s cell. The man was vengeful and angry, his pride damaged both by what had happened and what he thought had happened. He would never accept that Nozel had willingly let himself get played by someone like Jack for years. He would never allow what had happened in the cell. Nearly a decade together, and this was how it was going to end.

Well, to be honest, Jack had known that he would leave the world like this.

Not exactly like this, drawn up to a chopping block with his lover staring at him with an expression so confusing that he couldn’t even begin to read it. There was pain, there was betrayal, there was hatred, there was feelings Jack wasn’t sure that he knew the name of.

...

But like this, because he always knew that it would end badly for him. Though he had thought that it would be because he had finally been discovered as a serial killer, and not because he had made the mistake of falling for a stuck-up little nobleman who happened to be of royal blood.

...

Even the King was there. Haughty and stuck-up and selfish. He didn’t really care that Nozel had been hurt, he only cared for the perceived damage to his own and the Crown’s reputation. The same went for old man Silva, Nozel’s father. The hatred that was aimed at him from Nozel’s two younger siblings who were also present was palpable, though. They were terrible people, but they did care about their elder brother. Julius’ face held bitterness, pain, betrayal, even pity; he was much easier to read than Nozel, because he wore his expressions openly on his face.

...

Julius had visited Jack after he had attacked Nozel for real. Jack had not tried to explain himself. There was nothing to explain, really. Julius wouldn’t understand even if Jack did explain why he had chosen to do what he had done. So even though the Magic Emperor pleaded with him, Jack just smiled and told him that nothing would change even if he did explain, because the truth was horrible anyway.

...

He ignored everyone else, the nobles, the other magic knights, everyone.

Instead, Jack focused on only Nozel. Stared him straight in the eyes and smiled, his smile cutting a cruel line across his face, and Nozel stood petrified, unable to tear his gaze away.

The executioner, a mage working especially for the King solely for this purpose, readied their spell, and wasn’t it ironic that somebody who fought with and hurt people with blades would meet their end by another person’s blade.

The last thing he saw was agony, and the last thing that he heard was despair.

Chokehold 2: Foolish Mortals