Eduardo x Jon Story

Abducting is Annoying

Jon had driven until nightfall, passing nothing but countryside until finding a hotel at the start of a city.
He bought a room for a few days with the use of Eduardo's debit card and tried to drag said dead weight up the stairs without raising suspicions of any who passed them.
Few actually questioned to which he explained that his 'friend' had gotten himself shitfaced drunk.
They left it at that.

When finally reaching the room Jon fiddled with the room key and crossed the threshold, dragging the larger man behind him.
The sight would have been humorous to any one watching but to Jon it was quite a hassle.

He kicked the door shut behind him and tossed the dead weight on the first bed he came to.
Jon then crawled onto the bed at Eduardo's side, pulling the folded sheet at end of bed and rapping it around one of the bars of the bed post. He proceeded to take the man's hands and tied the sheet around his wrist tightly, rounding them four times before tiring them against the post in a double knit before doing the same it the top of the bedpost.

Never hurts to be safe was Jon's thought. He refused the chance of Eduardo hurting him again. To him it was logical to keep him incapacitated.
He would not be abused any longer.

'Until I'm caught again....' Jon sighed and stood from the bed. He strolled to the other one not far from Eduardo's before flopping down on it.
It had been a long day and despite that, he was unable to relax. Sleep was a foreign concept, welcome, but not often tangible.

Much later, after the sun fell under the horizon and the moon was high in the dark sky Eduardo had woken up.
It was dark, and he was unable to see anything save for shadows of objects from the dim light of a window.

He's first question was how he gotten there. He's arms felt like they were being continuously stuck with needles on every inch of his skin.
He tried to move them, but found them to be securely tied down.
"...what the fuck?" He whispered to himself, unsure of his situation.
Then he rememered. Jon had punched him. That son of bitch punched him!
Anger welled inside his body before he'd caught it. He counted to ten and sighed out.

After calming himself down he rationalized the situation.
Obviously, Jon was still mad at him. It didn't take a genius to realize that. He was an asshole, it's understandable. What was *not* okay and fairly fucked up was that he was tied to a bed post. In fact it was a bit creepy.

Eduardo sat up, arms stuck behind him and and began to yank at the binds.

"You're going to make it worse the harder you pull," said a monotone voice in the dark.

Eduardo new the voice despite it's lack of emotion.
"Jon, what the actual fuck?"

The younger turned on the lamp, illuminating the room with golden light. He sat up and brushed his bangs out of his face.
"You were going to hit me. So I took precautions."

Eduardo furrowed his brows, "I wasn't trying to hit you. I was trying to get you to wait a damn second because I haven't seen you in months."

The other stared blankly at him, "I don't trust you."

Eduardo opened his mouth to retort.

"And I blame you for the situation I'm in," Jon finshed.

"What do you mean by situation?" Eduardo rose a brow.

"Almost a year ago I was kidnapped by soldiers of the Red Army. They experimented on me  until they were able to enhance my healing factor an immune system. You could call me the perfect soldier. I can't die And if I am severely injured I will heal in a matter of minutes.

Eduardo blinked at him ab d the room fell silent.
"Jon, did you get hit with a crazy stick?"

Jon bristled and stood moving a few paces until he towered over Eduardo's bed.
He pulled out the knife he had hidden in his back pocket and leaned over him.

"Jon...what are you doing?" Eduardo asked quickly pressing his self back against the headboard. He was getting scared now. If Jon really wanted, he stab him...or worse.

Instead Jon shoved his wrist in the man's eyesight and pressed the knife against the skin of his wrist.
Eduardo cringed as he watched him easily for Jon to tear through his own flesh.
"Look."
Edurado turned away, he couldn't.
Jon frowned, bringing his hand to the man's face and forcing him to look.

"Look at it," he spoke in a more harsh tone.

He did, he watched droplets of blood fall on his white t-shirt before the cut closed immediately. It was like it was never there.

"Oh...dear god..."

"Don't talk to him. He doesn't listen, nor care."