[[AU]] Homophobia

[downwithmyship]

Jack stayed the night in the Lounge for Hunter's sake. He's been waiting for his giant to show up. The shine hasn't worn off the thrill of letting the young man fuck him. It's early yet, though Jack is impatient. Still, it surprises him when there's a knock at the door. Hunter is certainly chivalrous enough to knock when he knows damn well he's

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[shooting_blind]

Saturday takes one of the other peaches from the counter and makes his way slowly to Jack. He wants to be out of here before that huge red head shows up, but is making a point to show Jack he has all the time int he world. Also when someone is in a rush the most irritating things you can do is drag ass. Everything he does is part of the game now. Every carefully chosen word and step.

On his way he rights the coffee table, wanting no evidence of foul play. Just the fruit laying in the kitchen out of some perverse desire for Hunter to see it there.
He faces Jack without any sort of expression. There's no boiling hate to offset his actions. There's not anything.
"It doesn't matter why."
He opens the door and steps out.
"You've risked your life every time you've been with a man. You must want to die. If you've changed your mind now I have what will stop the poison... at least I think this is the right one

[shooting_blind]

Saturday's mouth goes into a tight smirk as he tries not to laugh at Jack's jerking away from him. Now that he's seeing it in person he understands the joy of hurting this body and getting that reaction from his face. He doesn't realize the tickle in his groin is the same one that went through his own persecutors during his boot camp. He's not thinking of what was done to him at all. He never does. The power of denial is strong enough to move mountains.
"Sorry. I'm new at this. I'll get better. You'll show me how."

He begins to systematically go through Jack's belongings. The bone is investigated. The beads and piece of eight.

[downwithmyship]

"Not one for torture, m'self. Afraid I wouldn' have any good advice."

Thankfully, since Jack was anticipating sex, he lacks most of his valuables. However, this means he lacks his weapons as well. No pistol. No sword. No daggers. He trusts Hunter too much, it seems. He has his rings, beads from every part of the world, a bone marlin spike, his shirt and his breeches. The breeches only have four out of the original six buttons on the legs.

Jack grumbles and pulls away from the searching but it doesn't do much good.
"Won't find anything of much worth. Wasn' planning on bartering."

[shooting_blind]

"Oh. That's fine. I'm good at torture. I meant being affectionate."

He's distracted in his answers. Jack's tangles and angles are interesting him for now. Less so the conversation. His hands follow the red scarf to make sure razors aren't kept there. He gets down to the piece of black canvas ties in Jack's hair and pinches it between his fingers.
"These aren't worth anything to you? Why do you keep beads and garbage in your hair?"

[downwithmyship]

"Ah. My mistake. Should've known, eh?"

With the bit of sail held in Saturday's fingers, Jack swings his head to pull free violently. These things are Jack's and no one else's. They are his memories and his treasures. He doesn't want Saturday touching or discussing any of it.

"Not worth anything t'you. S'different."

He knows better than to say they mean the world to him, but Jack can hardly hide it completely.

[shooting_blind]

Not completely. Not at all.
"You can keep it for now then."
He goes through Jack's other clothing. Frisks him as well as he can with Jack tied to the chair. This is slightly more businesslike, but not without some obvious pleasure. His hands smooth against the pirate's torso, down and up his arms. His thighs. Saturday shoves his hand between Jack's legs and feels him. He expects the man to get hard from it. Fag's can't help themselves. But nothing happens.
"Can you achieve a proper erection?"
He looks kind of.. unhealthy. Maybe Jack is broken. Maybe that's why he was getting his ass eaten out instead of a blow job.

[downwithmyship]

All Jack can do to avoid the frisking is look away. It's hardly effective. He struggles and grumbles, but to no avail. Eventually, he lets it happen. Might as well save his energy. Not as if this is the worst that's ever been done to him...or that will be.

"Whot?"
Jack tilts his head. Why the hell would this idiot think he can't get hard?
"Course I can! Why could I not? S'nothing wrong with any bit of me."
Well aside from his brain. His pride, for instance, has stopped him from claiming impotence to ease things on himself.

[shooting_blind]

Jack's reactions to being touched is confusing. This isn't happening the way he thought faggots were supposed to react. But that's the point isn't it? He's not going to torture this man just for fun. He's investigating. Gathering information. After all- this is all DOPE agents are trained for. He's America's goon.

"There is something wrong with you, Jack. You've proved that. You're just not functioning the way your sickness suggests. Why aren't you turned on by my touching you?"

[downwithmyship]

"What bloody 'sickness'? 'M not sick! An' 'm rarely aroused by crude, mad, bastard's fondling m'bits with no skill, experience or intent. Try t'be less despised. Helps get a rise from yer men with more regularity, ya'll find."

Jack huffs. He'll not only be dealing with torture, but also this son of a bitch's ignorance? He wonders if he shouldn't have just let the poison kill him. How far are they? Just down the hall? Let's see how this scurvy wet shit fairs against the glowing.

"HUNTER!!"
Jack doubts he'll get more than one good scream for help out.

[shooting_blind]

See? He's learning a lot already. He's made a check list in his head as Jack insults him. Lack of skill, experience, and intent. Be less despised. He'll try all of those things, one by one.

Weather or not Hunter would give him a run for his money is yet to be seen. Saturday rolls his black eyes (it's impossible to tell when he's doing this except maybe in the eyebrows) and stands up. He answers Jack's screaming with utter boredom, hardly bothering.
"Please. Don't. Stop."

Sat walks off, letting Jack get it out of his system. From the wall he pushes a cart to the pirate with several cords and wires plugged into the socket. It's covered in a white sheet and comes up to waist level. The wheels squeak.
"Please... Don't do this... I'm so afraid. Why wont you stop screaming?"

[downwithmyship]

A few more shouts when he isn't stopped, but soon Saturday's lack of concern quiets Jack. There's clearly no hope of anyone hearing. He hangs his head, infuriated by his double's mocking tone.

Jack looks up with a start when the cart is shoved over at him. The cords don't mean as much to the pirate as it might to someone else. However, he knows it means nothing good. His eyes widen in mixed fear and confusion. His mouth is dry and tense as he feels the urge to ask 'why' again and again but knows it's pointless.

"...what in hell...."
He mutters, almost exclusively to himself. Jack doesn't understand the situation enough. It's maddening. If he knew Saturday better or knew why this was happening, maybe then he could find a way out. For now...there's nothing.

[shooting_blind]

The sheet is pulled off in a flourish. Instead of some sharp and deadly traditional torture device- Jack is looking at a series of monitors showing the different rooms of his apartment as well as the hallway leading to it. Obviously Saturday has been there before. It's easy when Jack is on the ship so often.

There is no sound. Hunter sits in the hall with his back to Jack's front door. He's doing something with his hands but it's difficult to tell because of the downward angle. Saturday doesn't stay near when the sheet is pulled because even someone that knows and understand soundproofing would keep trying. Jack is starting to hurt his ears.

[downwithmyship]

When nothing happens either way Jack continues to try to yell. That's only until the sheet is pulled back, though. Then there's a brief few moments of silence while he tries to figure out what's going on. Then there's yelling again. Screaming for Hunter who can't hear him. Trying to warn the man, though he has no idea what he's warning him of. Trying to have himself saved. He eventually calms somewhat and just stares.

"Whot is this? He'll look fer me, you realize. He will. Whot's going on?"

[shooting_blind]

"Maybe. Or find something else. Maybe settle for Sam. There's no shortage of men with our face, I've found. Our body. Do you think he cares about the little differences or that he's sooo in love with you that he'll look forever?"
In this case, it's Saturday who doesn't know the whole story. He's talking about a damn fairy tale. Hunter will hunt for Jack. Forever.
"You ask too many questions."

When Saturday comes back into Jack's view he's carrying a straight razor.
"You've been detained for crimes against nature. You are being questioned. That is why and what. Are you finally satisfied?"

[downwithmyship]

Hunter will look for him. Jack knows it. He'll search until he grows old and grey and be renewed completely when he finds Jack again. Jack understands fairytales. He comes close to being one. He tries, often, to pretend he's too mature to have this kind of understanding, but some part of him will always be a child and that part, the pure heart of him, knows the truth about his giant. He would never 'settle' for someone else.

The razor makes Jack tense. His heart feels like it's afraid to beat. When he draws breath again, his chest heaves with each.
"Yer out of yer bloody mind!"
He's committed plenty of crimes. Sex is not one of them in Jack's mind.

[shooting_blind]

"I'm really not."
Saturday pinches one of the braids of Jack's beard between his thumb and pointer- then slices it clean off. He puts it in a tiny white box on one of the monitors, making a face.
"We'll just have to keep your boyfriend interested."

The other braid is detached the same way and afterward the razor is folded up, tucked in his back pocket, and Saturday closes the box. He sits down on the floor, pulling a ribbon out of his other pocket to wrap it up nice and pretty.
"I'm more familiar with women. It's best to start slow with them. Make things tidy and delicate. Men don't mind a lack of foreplay, but we'll play this out just the same. Start him off with something soft and wait to give him your dick until the very end. The box that goes in is much bigger. I made assumptions on the size."