Note:Hello everyone sorry for the delay as you all know life gets busy sometimes This chapter is a little longer to make up for the wait and Ill also be posting a request later tonight..
Warning: contains homophobic remarks and some nudity
After you walked out of Sage's office relatively victorious, you started thinking about Soldier Boy as you made your way back through the hallways. That disgusting, outdated mindset of his that made him see everyone as beneath him made you wonder exactly what he'd been doing in Russia for forty years, but you weren't really interested in knowing the origin story. All you cared about was making sure this cursed tower didn't blow up, and finding a way to communicate and deal with this ancient piece of furniture.
You grabbed the most important documents and headed back to his suite. When you opened the door, everything was exactly as you'd left it, him sitting in casual clothes, drinking, fumbling with the modern TV remote. It was obvious he was struggling, stubbornly trying not to look like a fool in front of this annoying technology that kept showing him strange options, viewing suggestions, and payment requests, and suddenly the TV would shut off to display a screensaver of some ugly countryside house.
He cleared his throat and said sharply, trying to control the situation and hide his confusion
You sighed impatiently and didn't answer his question, instead asking directly
"Did you eat anything? I'll order pizza"
His face twisted as he glared at the remote before tossing it onto the couch
"Pizza? What kind of nonsense is that? I want something real to eat... grilled meat with beer"
You raised an eyebrow while flipping through your papers. Of course, something manly and tough, just like your annoying voice you thought to yourself.
You looked at him, sure you'd only thought the sentence and hadn't said it out loud, but apparently your face read clearly enough. You didn't answer, instead you walked over and sat on the couch beside him, taking the remote. The moment you got closer, you saw him tense up, his broad shoulders stiffening, he was about to snap something like "I'm not stupid!" or "I'm not a child!" even though he was acting like both right now. But you kept your tone completely serious and free of any mockery, so as not to wound his oversensitive pride, and said, pointing at the screen
"Look... this TV has app icons, when you press one, it shows you everything that specific platform has, like Netflix. I think it'll be your favorite"
He raised an eyebrow and looked at you with mockery mixed with suspicion
"And why are you so sure?"
You answered him with utter simplicity
"Because it has a lot of nudity and sex on it... anyway, press here, then here, and there you go"
You reached out and handed him the remote. But his damn pride made him grab it and press buttons randomly and stubbornly, accidentally landing on a show depicting a love story between two gay men in their fifties, then he threw the remote down angrily, ignoring all your instructions and not even realizing what he'd actually put on, then rudely propped his feet up on the table in front of him, ignoring your stare burning into the side of his face.
You didn't look away from him, you crossed one leg over the other, laced your hands together, and said in a low, calm voice dripping with coldness
"It's a show about gay men in their fifties... I didn't realize you were such a supporter"
The moment you said the word "gay," he turned to you fast as if a snake had bitten him, his eyes flashing with disgust and shock
"What? No, I'm not a supporter! Damn it! You're the one who said this channel suits me!"
And to end this embarrassing moment immediately, his heavy hand shot out and slammed the main button to shut the TV off completely, ignoring any of your instructions, simply to preserve what was left of his dignity.
You rolled your eyes, bored by his violent childishness, stood up, and headed back to your office, leaving the old man to stew right where he was.
You sat down at the wooden table in the corner of the suite and started reviewing the paperwork for his first commercial contract. Naturally, the ad was a joint one with Homelander, that hateful idiot. The moment you read his name, you felt a familiar shiver of disgust run through your body. Your mind still refused to fully process that repulsive scene you'd accidentally walked in on a while back, when you'd opened the wrong door and found Firecracker breastfeeding Homelander from her chest like he was an infant. It was a situation beyond what any human could endure. Luckily, their distraction and your quiet movement had spared you disaster, and they hadn't noticed you that day, but the image refused to leave your mind.
You rubbed your temple hard, as if the memory physically hurt you, eyes closed, and didn't notice that Soldier Boy had gotten up and was now standing right in front of your table, staring at your pained expression as if trying to figure out what was wrong.
He said in his rough, mocking tone
"Did you hit your head on the table? I didn't peg you for this stupid"
You jolted and pulled back at the sudden sound of his voice, as if you'd just woken from a terrifying nightmare, only to realize you were already awake... but in a different nightmare, standing on two legs.
You looked at him with clear irritation, eyes narrowed
He didn't like your dismissive, sharp tone, and a spark of anger flared in his eyes as he said in a booming voice
"I don't know! Maybe I'm wondering what you're still doing in my suite? And where are the women? And what's my next assignment? Do you think I'm mindless, that you can lock me up here like some kid?"
You shot him a cold, bored look and gathered the papers calmly, saying
"I'm here because these papers concern your work, and we were supposed to go over them, but I'll spare you the trouble and handle it myself. As for women, a girl will come tonight. And your next assignment right now is to rest. Now go sit down, food will be here soon"
Soldier Boy blazed with anger at the way you gave orders and spoke to him like he was some schoolboy, and stepped toward the table, shouting
"Damn you! If I wanted to sit, I'll sit on my own terms, you don't get to order me around! Don't kid yourself into thinking you're actually responsible for me. And another thing..."
He paused for a second, then continued in a sharp, disgusted tone, gesturing with his hand
"I don't want that night girl to be one of those skeletons running around this stupid era of yours. I want a real woman, with an actual chest and ass!"
You looked at him for several long seconds, your eyes fixed on him with complete stillness, while he glared at you with irritating anger, but you weren't fazed, and showed no reaction, since this was exactly what you'd expected from someone with his mentality.
You closed the file in your hands with an audible snap, set your pen down on top of it slowly, then took a deep breath, and said in a low, calm tone carrying an enormous amount of dismissiveness and coldness
"I'll make sure she has whatever specifications satisfy your refined taste from the forties"
You stood up from your seat, grabbed your bag and files, then gave him a quick, unimpressed once over from bottom to top, and continued as you moved toward the door
"As for me being responsible for you, I'm not interested in controlling you or taming you. I'm here to keep you from doing something stupid enough to get you refrozen, and to make sure your idiocy doesn't burn this place down. Food will arrive in ten minutes... try not to choke on it"
You opened the door and walked out without waiting for a reply from him, leaving him standing there like a fool for the second time that day, something you knew would keep eating at him all night.
He shouted after you with everything he had, "Stupid bitch!", and the walls of the suite shook with the sound of the door slamming shut behind you.
He stayed standing there in the middle of the vast room, his chest rising and falling with anger. But suddenly, a deadly calm settled over the place. An unsettling, heavy calm, the kind that drags a person, against their will, into the corridors of thoughts they'd been trying to escape all along, thoughts of betrayal, of the forty years lost from his life in the depths of Russian prisons, of a time that had changed and no longer held any meaning for him.
In that exact moment, Soldier Boy felt a sharp, immediate pang of regret over kicking you out. At least the scratch of your pen on paper and your cold, provoking presence gave him something to burn off his energy and anger on, something to occupy him enough that he wouldn't dwell too much on his past.
He exhaled sharply in frustration and went back to the liquor bottle, trying to numb himself and quiet his agitated mind. A few minutes later, the hotel staff knocked on the door to bring the food, it arrived together, the grilled meat and beer he'd ordered, and beside them the pizza box you'd suggested. He stared at the pizza box for a moment, he'd assumed, from the way you'd talked, that you were supposed to sit and eat with him. He scoffed bitterly at the idea, grabbed the box, and tossed it carelessly into the fridge, then sat down to eat his meat alone.
About an hour later, a soft, light knock sounded at the outer door.
He opened the door to find a young, strikingly beautiful woman. She had a full, precisely curved figure, wide eyes, fiery orange hair falling over her shoulders, and a warm, friendly smile lighting up her face.
The girl was a living embodiment of everything he genuinely preferred in women, as if you'd had her "custom made" to his exact specifications. Soldier Boy looked at her, his scowl gradually fading, replaced by a thin thread of astonishment.
He brought the girl in without any preamble, leading her straight to the bed, boldly running his hands over her body, then laid her down and started pulling off her clothes with one hand while the other explored her.
The next morning, at exactly ten o'clock, you pushed open the suite door and walked in. That was plenty of time for the night girl to have left after collecting her payment. You walked in with confident steps, heading toward the bedroom, and there was Soldier Boy, still sprawled on the bed tossing around, sleeping nearly naked if not for the white sheet twisted around his waist, hiding his backside.
You rolled your eyes, bored by the sight, and without any hesitation or embarrassment, you walked straight up to the big wooden door and slammed it shut with force, the sound crashing through the room and startling him out of his deep sleep.
You said in a sharp, loud tone meant to cut through his liquor heavy head
"Wake up! It's almost eleven, and we have a lot of work to do today!"
Soldier Boy flinched and sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes with scattered irritation. The moment he registered where he was and recognized your grating voice, his eyes lit up with morning fury, and he shouted from the middle of the bed, the veins in his neck bulging, while you were already turning to go sit on the couch in the outer living room
"Didn't you say yesterday my next assignment was to rest? I swear to god... if you don't get out of this damn room right now, I'll come break your neck with my own hands!"
You sat down on the couch with total coolness, crossed one leg over the other as you opened the contracts file, then delivered your line with bored, sharp dismissiveness, without even glancing at him
"Shower first... you smell disgusting."
Ten full minutes passed and you didn't hear any response or movement from Soldier Boy's direction. Silence settled again, and you genuinely thought that stubborn old man had drifted back to sleep. You sighed loudly, out of patience, and got up from your seat, today wasn't going to last forever, there was a joint commercial shoot in just one day, and you needed to make sure he fully understood the situation, and what he should and shouldn't say in front of the cameras.
You walked quickly into the bedroom to scold him, but you were surprised to find the bed empty. Before you could wonder where he was, the sound of the adjacent bathroom door opening reached you.
You turned instantly, just as Soldier Boy stepped out through the bathroom steam, water dripping from his hair and his entire body... completely naked, without a single piece of clothing covering him.
You froze in place for a second. Well, you weren't going to lie to yourself, his body was good, more than provokingly good, especially with his towering height and hard muscles untouched by time..
and his cock... Fuck! ..and the moment you realized you were standing there staring at him, you spun your face away quickly, your cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment.
Meanwhile, this fluster didn't escape Soldier Boy's notice. A wide, mocking smile spread across his lips, and he looked deeply proud of his body and the sudden effect it had on you, standing there shamelessly without even attempting to cover himself.
You said with intense irritation, your voice stumbling, as you moved quickly toward the living room before he could think of coming closer
The moment you were safely outside the room, you shouted at the top of your voice so he'd hear you clearly
"Put on some damn clothes and get out here fast!"
You didn't hear a response from him, but exactly five minutes later, there was a knock at the door and the hot breakfast you'd ordered for him earlier arrived. Moments later, Soldier Boy stepped out of the room wearing simple pants and a cotton shirt, and walked over to sit across from you at the table.
You immediately sensed his mood was oddly good this morning, and a strong urge crept over you to believe it was thanks to that orange haired girl you'd sent him the night before, who seemed to have drained his angry charge.
Soldier Boy started eating calmly while you opened the files and began explaining the details of the upcoming commercial, its type, and the expected benefit for Vought. You spoke seriously, trying to avoid looking at his face or remembering that hot scene from a few minutes ago, but you noticed he was oddly focused on you, he didn't interrupt with his usual sarcasm, didn't throw the papers aside, instead he followed the movement of your lips and the gestures of your hand with a quiet, guarded attention.
You looked at him suddenly to make sure he was actually following, and said in a wary tone
"Are you actually listening to me? Or are you still asleep?"
He took a sip of his coffee and looked at you from under his brows with a heavy, confident gaze, and said in a calm tone free of yesterday's edge
"I'm listening, Y/N. Keep going... I want to see how this trivial commercial is going to make me look better than that overgrown child.'"
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
