#urfuturefix3r 𝄈 jordi

[retr0foxtur3]

⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗜𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬 he's watching jordi's skin become visible, after only seeing it in his memories for so long. it could be the fact that it's his own fingers unwrapping jordi like a gift especially for him. it could be the easy, lackadaisical aura jordi now has, confidently laid out on the hotel bed. it could just simply be the fact that he's so close to jordi after being apart for years ⸺ but whatever it is, it has aiden's heart thumping hard and heavy in his chest; if he focuses hard enough, he can probably hear his pulse roaring in his ears.

and that pulse spikes; once, when jordi finally touches him, radiating the kind of heat that only jordi can, but his fingers continue to move diligently without pause, until the very last button ( the fact that it's in large part due to aiden now very carefully avoiding jordi's gaze for the sake of maintaining his composure need not be said ), fond smirk still carefully in place; once more, at the vulgar connotation that falls from jordi's mouth with all the casualness of a comment on the weather. fucker.

「 i've never quite figured out how he can say shit like that without even batting an eye, how it just comes out of his mouth so naturally, like it's nothing. some might think it's because he's a sociopath with no filter, but i think it's because he's a sadistic bastard that gets joy out of pushing people's buttons ⸺ my buttons, especially. 」

aiden can already feel his ears beginning to get that traitorous warmth, and he takes a fleeting second to recenter himself before he flicks his eyes up to meet jordi's, focused on him with that look that never fails to make him feel like a mouse being hunted for sport by the cat. but he can't bow out now, even if that isn't exactly the angle he was coming from.  “   yeah ? name your price, then.    ” will he regret that ? likely.

Aiden moves, and god help him, Jordi lets him. He lets the Vigilante loom over him. Lets him brush his hands aside. Lets the man to take a hold of his shirt, and importantly, allows him to start to unbutton it. He doesn't stop him. Doesn't do much else than slide one of his arms up to cushion his head. Doesn't give any kind of warning or reaction other than the act of wrapping his free hand around Aiden's wrist, fingertips pressed carefully to his pulse.

That touch alone is enough to burn his whole house down. The steady beating of Aiden's pulse enough to spark something in him, bring back that breakthrough he'd been about to have. Like a word at the tip of his tongue, it dances just out of reach - and Jordi lets it. Content to blink slow and steady, and watch his fox with a look that's just short of being impassive, a dash of intrigue dancing in dark eyes.

"If you're whoring yourself out on behalf of Dedsec San Francisco, I have to warn you, that debt is deep. It's not just the pants we're talking about here, its the time I wasted, the cost of that ice cream, the ammo..."

[retr0foxtur3]

⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 ⸺ 𝗛𝗘 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒𝙎 𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 ⸺ but he can't help the soft puff of a laugh that escapes him, despite the pressed line of his lips. his eyes are twinkling with it, watching jordi's clear delight in the memory of his apparent torment of this random kid is a little infectious; it's hard not to be fond of him like this, as alarming as this should be to the average person.

「 but that's just jordi, fucked up sense of humor, and all. sometimes i'm not sure why or how, but he's the one person i choose come back to, even if the attachment isn't wholly reciprocated. 」

finally, he's getting up from the chair and closing the space between them, brushing jordi's hand out of the way and starting to undo the buttons himself, just because he can, fond smile still curving his lips.    “   nearly getting a guy killed and framed for murder, instead of asking him to buy you another pair of pants ? yeah, that sounds about like you.   ” the words are lacking any real tone of disapproval, the bubble of contentment at having jordi under his fingertips, even with the barrier of fabric and plastic between them and his skin, expanding in his chest and taking over.

 “   so go ahead and tell me ⸺ what's it gonna take to make it up to you ?    ”

"Is there a difference?" An honest question that really didn't need an answer. Jordi might not consider there to be much of a difference between the two options, but Aiden had that... justice thing about him still. Vigilantism and The Fox still old friends, even if Lucky Quinn was long gone and all that revenge had been tied up neatly in the end - Jordi's interference excluded. "He trusted too easily, needed a lesson on not trusting every fixer that happened to align in goals."

Jordi pauses, thinking. Thumb still stroking along the buttons of his shirt. "You know, that was the second time I tried to fuck him? First time, I led the Bratva to him. Doesn't count as a murder attempt, I knew he'd get out. Just wasn't sure in how many pieces..." He laughs as he finishes his sentence. Giggling out words as he grins to himself. "Fair play for putting a hole in my brand new pants."

[retr0foxtur3]

⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦 threatens a smile, the remnants of the amusement from moments ago, but he manages to hold it at bay, cautious of stirring up more ire than he clearly already has. it's both a blessing and a curse, how well jordi knows him front and back ⸺ though he wouldn't necessarily call himself a liar so much as a ... person that tells creative truths that may or may not continue to hold water, not that it matters; this, too, his tenuous fixer partner knows, and it's all the same in any way of substance.

an unexpected side effect of spending so much time in close quarters with jordi: lying to him inches closer and closer to impossible.

so he does as he's told. he doesn't answer it, aside from the minute glint of amusement in his eyes that jordi doesn't see anyway, and the return to the slow, lazy twist of the desk chair.    “   no, i didn't miss it. i can multitask, you know.   ” he goes back to his relaxed position, emerald eyes tracking the fidget of jordi's fingers.    “   just wondering if you did it because you had to or just because you could.   ”

Folding his hands on his midsection, Jordi doesn't acknowledge the comment at first. Instead, he turns his head to look at Aiden with his own look of exhaustion. Brows pinched together as he stares at the man a little too intently, then rolls them to the side. Thumb coming up to stroke at his own sternum in a gesture that comes off more agitated than self-soothing as he sighs and looks back at the stained ceiling.

"Did you miss the part where he shot me in the ass, or were you admiring the view?" He must have been if he'd missed the entire point where Jordi had every opportunity to kill the kid, but hadn't. Sure, he'd nearly led him to his own death (or death to him, as it was), but that was semantics. Jordi hadn't pulled the trigger, and despite that he'd had every fucking right to do so. "I mean, let's face it, I was on my A-Game, if it'd been you, you'd have accidentally popped him on instinct. Especially after the fucker lied to me. Who lies to someone who showed them mercy? Don't answer that, you're the biggest liar I know, your opinion doesn't count."

[retr0foxtur3]

⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗔𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗜𝗧. there, nestled within the folds of the faux casualness in jordi's voice: the truth. whatever is within that he's keeping a lid on, releasing in bits and pieces, rather than the full burning intensity of whatever jordi's feeling. the surface level ? aiden can figure out well enough: the heat and humidity of san francisco is miles away from from crisp windy gloom of chicago, and it sounds like his experience with the locals has been a challenge. but there's something else, something deeper that what is coming out of jordi's mouth, and aiden can't quite parse what it is.

he gets distracted, though. very distracted. something in jordi's words, spoken as if it was a common everyday occurrence, has aiden sitting up straighter in his chair, brows furrowing just a fraction for a split second before smoothing out in to something that's just tired. the amusement fades, leaving the ghost of it in the back of his mind, but not quite gone.    “   jordi ... you didn't. tell me you're joking.   ”

Somewhere along the line, Jordi was on the path to at least one important realization, he knew that now. Could figure out easily that his annoyance with everything - the heat, the humidity, the way his balls stuck to his leg annoyingly, and Aiden's capture - it was all intertwined in more than just the obvious way, than just because he had to come to fucking San Francisco to deal with digging his on-and-off fixer partner out of whatever shithole he'd gotten himself into.

He's on the fucking brink of self-discovery - and then Aiden goes and pulls on his fucking pigtails like they're six.

"Yeah, sure, I'm pissed." He is, too. The nice cold shower, cranked air conditioning, and cool sheets were doing nothing to help his rolling temper - not even the fact that Aiden had gotten himself out of the trouble on his own could soothe that anger. A rare show of something white hot, barely covered by a pleasant tone and neutral expression as he lays there prone on the bed. Almost vulnerable with his feet bare while the rest of him is wrapped in one of his usual suits - dove white with a grey undershirt. "I mean, I flew all the way the fuck here and I had to work with goddamn nerds. Do you know how dehumanizing that is? One of them shot me in the ass. A few years ago, I would have shot him in the face for that, but I'm working on being more - pleasant to the public, so I just scared him a little. And framed him for mass murder."