ticktockgrin: (attention)
ticktockgrin ([personal profile] ticktockgrin) wrote2014-07-18 12:36 am

Negotiations With Teeth

Dwayne hates this part of the act. He's pulled just about every con in the game at some time or another, some of them enough times to do them blind without a moment's warning, but this one? It never gets easier, even with the amount of trust involved.

Art items, money, contraband luxuries of all sorts, even drugs and weapons? Sure. Humans? That's one thing he can't stomach.

Next to him, Mira is just as calm as he is, probably calmer because she knows the lock on her silver collar has a quick-release that will let her get it off in half a second.

She's the quickest shifter he knows, maybe because she was turned so young. She's still too damn young... But that's what makes this work so well. The fact that she can do this without losing her shit. After all she's been through she can do the job, control her wolf, and still be rational, reliable, able to have a life outside the perversion and submission that defined her teen years? It's kind of amazing.

She can hold her own, both physically and emotionally, and he can control her if things go bad. Combined with his middle-aged, refined demeanor? They make a good team, and the pack has a lot of faith in them for taking down yet another slave dealer.

He still hates it. But he smiles anyway, genial, professional, and harmless in spite of the huge boxer's build filling out his tailored suit, copper-penny hair and beard trimmed close and neat and not showing even a hint of gray in spite of his forty-five years. A middle-aged businessman, not even a bit out of place in an upscale hotel where a little money buys a lot of discretion.

And the slender young brunette with him? Well, everyone has their indulgences, and all it takes is the right price.
tinkermoose: (stare)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-07-19 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
There's nothing about this Josh doesn't hate, though the fact he feels incredibly out of place in his tailored suit and polished shoes isn't even close to the top of the list given he's here to try and buy a sentient creature, human in all the ways that matter, purportedly as a sex slave. The whole idea makes him sick to his stomach, and he steels himself in determination as he studies the other buyer as intently as the seller and the... merchandise. It almost makes it worse to realize that he wouldn't give any of these men a second look on the street. Or, well, he'd definitely give the big redhead a second look--probably a third, too--but not because he thought he was the kind of man to sell a kid to some fat middle-aged businessman.

He focuses on appearing casual, comfortable surrounded by luxury and excess and used to having the kind of money needed to pick up a high priced 'toy' on a whim. But all the preparation and determination in the world doesn't change the fact that it's like one of those nightmares where you're naked in school, and he can't believe that everyone isn't looking at him, seeing just how much he doesn't belong here. He makes himself smile back at the redhead, easy and confident and, he hopes, with a slight predatory edge. Something in keeping with the kind of guy who'd be looking to buy the pretty little brunette he has on a collar.

"I'm prepared to pay five percent over the asking price, can we just get this over with?" he asks, trying to sound bored and absolutely convinced that no one would ever consider denying him what he wants, but he's not sure how well he's pulling it off.
tinkermoose: (stare)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-07-20 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
Josh tenses further at the big redhead's brushoff. His backers had been sure that a five percent boost to the asking price would result in an immediate sale, it wasn't supposed to get this complicated. He shoves his hands into his pockets to hide the way his palms are sweating and has to focus to keep from shifting restlessly in place. He has to project calm confidence, not nerves, and he's glad as hell he's not prone to blushing at mention of sex when the asshole mentions the escort service.

He has to resist the urge to smile reassuringly at the tiny, collared girl when she lifts her eyes, because that's not in character for the spoiled douchebag he's supposed to be right now, and he turns his attention back to her... owner again. At least he doesn't have to reach for the requisite outrage, because his blood's positively boiling at the casual way they're talking about selling her.

"I don't need training wheels," he snaps. "And I don't want the Executive treatment." He looks to the girl again, his demeanor completely at odds with his scent as he looks her over dismissively. "I want her." He pauses for a moment, considering, then adds, "Ten percent over the asking price." It'll be a scramble to come up with the extra, but he's not letting her go with the disgusting sleazebag fidgeting anxiously next to him.
Edited 2014-07-20 03:36 (UTC)
tinkermoose: (sweaty and intense)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-07-25 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
Josh has to work hard to suppress the urge to fidget. This isn't going at all the way his contacts and backers had insisted it would, and the longer it draws out the more chance that something will blow up in his face. Something that just might be the fat sleazeball and his restless bodyguards... which also hadn't been part of the plan. He'd been told to expect a solo buyer, solo seller and the... christ, the merchandise. Not two goons who are obviously armed and, from the looks of them, itching for a shot at busting his kneecaps. Not that he'd give them very good odds of succeeding, but the only way this ends well for his side is if it ends with him peacefully walking away with the girl, and that's not going to happen if things degenerate into violence.

He's not sure what the hell to do at this point, though, because Big Red doesn't seem to have any interest in budging, even for a significant boost to his profits, but there's no way in hell he's letting the girl go now that he's seen her. "I thought one of the first rules of business was to maximize your profits." He doesn't quite manage a sneer as he gives his supposed competition what's meant to be a dismissive look. He can see the guy checking him out, and has a pretty good idea why... and the only reason he's not wired is because he'd been expecting to be swept for bugs when he got there. He's been wishing like hell he had a wire for the last ten minutes, though. Wishing Ryan and Ethan or someone with a better potential read of the situation could feed him information or lines... or that he could at least warn them there's a damn good chance he'll be coming out hot sooner rather than later, because things are possibly going to start going south fast.

He tries to look casual about shifting both closer to the girl, and to put Sleazebag between himself and his bodyguards. And given he's damn well trained, even if this isn't anything he'd ever expected to be doing, he mostly succeeds. The same with the assessing look, at least partly camouflaged as irritation and disdain, that he gives to the bodyguards. Looking for any sign of weapons, gauging how they move, how fast and strong and effective they're likely to be, his odds of getting to and out the nearest exit with the girl if things go bad enough he has to cut and run. It... honestly doesn't look good, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And big as the seller is, at least he doesn't seem to be much of a threat.

"Best way to get rid of me is to sell me the girl, I'm sure he can go find himself another toy somewhere else." He's still managing to project confidence despite his building anxiety, and he takes a chance and partially turns his back to the fat man and his flunkies, hoping he can somehow manage to convince the big redhead that it's easier to just sell to him for an inflated price and move on. "Are you really going to turn down a ten percent bump? Wouldn't you rather be selling to someone with a better appreciation for the value of your merchandise?" He pauses, looks considering for a moment. "Especially if it led to repeat business. At a similar price."
tinkermoose: (sweaty and intense)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-07-29 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
It wasn't supposed to go this way, but sometimes things just go to shit and there's nothing you can do about it. Right now is obviously one of those times, as Josh's attention is drawn from discreetly eyeing the bodyguards to the big ginger... and the equally big gun he's carrying. It's not even a surprise that he's carrying, Josh had assumed he'd be the only one there who wasn't, well, besides the... merchandise... it's that he's making it very clear he's willing to use it, and looking like he's potentially a hell of a lot more competent with it than the easy going businessman image had led Josh--or his contacts and backers--to expect. And Josh knows exactly what he should do now, what he's supposed to do now. Back the hell off, take the bone the seller's offering and walk away with a potential line on god knows how many rescues. More kids bought out of this hell and given lives and safety.

Josh knows what he's supposed to do... but that involves leaving this kid, this girl whose face he's seen, in the hands of the kind of sick, sadistic fuck who keeps a stable of people for his perverted amusement.

He's still sweating, but the acrid tang of stress and anxiety rolling off him has eased, almost completely superseded by a sharper note of fear as he frowns, gaze shifting from the big ginger to the girl to his 'competition' and the man's restless bodyguards. He knows what he's supposed to do... and he knows what he's going to do, his anxiety washed away along with the pretense of the spoiled rich boy, with the complexities of a con he's never really been trained to handle, and replaced with anticipation of the violence he's been trained to since he could walk.

There's only a fraction of a second between decision and action. He thumbs the '911' text already keyed into the phone he's been fidgeting with in his pocket, pulls out the small, completely innocuous looking Swiss Army knife in his other pocket, the only weapon he's carrying, and flips it open in one smooth move as he spins, moving with entirely more speed and grace than anyone ever expects from a man his size. Fear he can handle. Fear is normal. Fear is acceptable. He doesn't expect to come out of this, but he'll be damned if that girl doesn't, and he takes the one move that should (might) keep him alive long enough to get the girl out of here, and goes to slide around the big redhead and make for the buyer. He's fast and he's strong and there's no way in hell those bodyguards are going to be able to stop him... and the redhead, well, he's big and he's not exactly young, no matter how hot he might be, so Josh is willing to take the chance that he can get past him.
Edited 2014-08-02 04:15 (UTC)
tinkermoose: (handgun)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-08-04 03:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Shit. Even with his ease with a gun the big ginger wasn't supposed to have been that fast. Or that on the ball. Josh had made the same mistake most people make with him--counting on him to be as slow as his size would lead you to expect--and he doubles over the fist that feels almost like it just appears in his diaphragm with a choking noise. He's pretty sure he's dead if he lets that stop him, though, and the girl might as well be with the hell she's being sold into. He struggles to suck in a breath past the burn of the blow, fingers locking tight on his knife against the impulse to let it slip from an almost nerveless grip, and almost flails as he reaches to wrap an arm around the seller's waist.

At least he's got the bulk of Big Red's body between him and the buyer's flunkies, still, even as he can hear them moving--not see them, because christ the guy caught him right in the phrenic nerve and he's pretty sure there's no way he can straighten up yet. What he can do, though, is shove his free hand into his attacker's jacket, still weak grip going unerringly for the gun the big man had shown off. If he can get hold of that, then maybe there's still a chance of at least getting the girl out of here. Maybe.

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tinkermoose: (Default)

loop

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-08-27 06:42 am (UTC)(link)
Damn, that smile- The guy had always been objectively hot, but there's something about him now, despite his obvious weariness, and it's not just that Josh now knows he's not a sadistic racist bastard. Or, well, maybe it is at least a little. He doesn't feel dirty looking anymore, anyway, and he smiles back despite his still pounding head. And, hey, he suddenly realizes that he doesn't have to refuse the ginger ale on principle anymore and reaches across to pop it open and take a sip as Dwayne answers him.

"Yeah, well, most people are tough to deal with sometimes, and I grew up around mercenaries and, well-" He ducks his head and frowns, an shamed flush spreading up his neck. "Hunters," he admits, voice going low and pained. He's seen plenty of the wrong side of this trade, and plenty of wolves as well, most of them in pretty damn bad circumstances. "I'm not much bothered by dangerous... and I have some debts to settle." Even if they were mostly accrued by his father, he can't shrug off the weight of them, the knowledge of what the man had done, and where at least some of the money had come from when his 'normal' avenues of employment had begun to tail off as he became more and more erratic.
tinkermoose: (Default)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-08-29 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
Mostly Josh is ridiculously relieved that he hadn't actually let that girl go helplessly into a life of slavery and abuse... it's only a secondary consideration to be glad he's not going to end up crippled or dead in a ditch somewhere. Which is possibly not a particularly healthy outlook on the situation, but it is what it is.

"Yeah, there, uh, seem to be a lot of similarities." He huffs a quiet laugh, that's maybe a little uncharacteristically bitter. "And more rules can't really be a bad thing." Not with that crowd. "Don't get caught's always the best one."

He tips a cockeyed smile at Dwayne and rubs his free hand over the thigh of his jeans before taking another careful sip of ginger ale. He's... just a bit queasy, so taking it easy is best. "I'm pretty good at stepping soft around people who need it, and I don't rile easy. Don't expect you to take my word on it."

He follows Dwayne's gaze to his phone then looks back to meet his eyes, smile widening a bit. He hadn't really expected that level of trust. "Thanks, that'll be a load off." He pushes up to his feet and staggers slightly, catching himself on the bedside table and leaning there for a second as the world steadies around him and his head pounds. "Damn, man, you pack a pretty good punch." He doesn't sound particularly bothered by the observation, and he straightens carefully and looks at Dwayne again, smile stretching wider still even though he's clearly a little bit unsteady on his feet. "For an old guy," he adds, the smile turning into a teasing smirk.
tinkermoose: (red shirt smile)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-09-01 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Josh grimaces and flushes a little. "Um, yeah, sorry about your junk," he offers sheepishly. "And thanks. For not letting them haul me out to the alley and kneecap me." Or worse. He's well aware it could have easily been much worse than that', which he'd been willing to accept at the time, but is more than pleased, in retrospect, to have not had to endure, and he gives Dwayne another grin. The kind that makes him look considerably younger than his twenty-seven years and a lot less intimidating than his size should dictate.

"Not a lotta guys can put me down like that." It doesn't sound nearly as arrogant as that kind of statement could, but then it's pretty clear there simply aren't a a lot of guys who fight in Josh's weight class, and almost none of them move the way he does. He's ridiculously light on his feet for the giant of a man he is, and if Dwayne had been any slower or weaker things probably would have gone a completely different direction. Possibly a direction involving guns and hefty bags, so all's well that ends well... ish.

"An' I'm good, just need a sec." He waves a hand and shifts his weight again, making sure his balance is good. It's not like he isn't well aware he's concussed, he's had enough of them in his life to be more than familiar with the experience, but he figures this one's not bad enough to slow him down much or for long. He manages the couple steps to his phone just fine, though he is careful about bending to retrieve it. "Don't worry." And there's that smirk back as he glances up at Dwayne before heading back to the bed. He'll just... make his call while sitting, thanks. "You're plenty hot even if you are well into 'don't trust anyone over thirty' territory."
tinkermoose: (Default)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2014-09-04 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, well-" Josh huffs, head ducking slightly as he keeps grinning. Apparently he really doesn't hold a grudge... but then, between them he figures Dwayne would be the one entitled to given he got punched in the nuts. "Glad I didn't do any lasting damage." And damn glad that Dwayne hadn't either... and if Josh had any clue what Dwayne's hiding he'd be damn impressed with his restraint and control, too. He knows just how much stronger weres are than humans.

Josh echoes Dwayne's laugh, easy and warm despite the circumstances. He's nothing if not good at rolling with the punches, literal or figurative. "Yeah? I'll keep that in mind." And it won't exactly be a hardship, given how appealing that self-satisfied, smug look is on the big ginger... and the fact that Josh tends to flirt like breathing, even if he rarely means for it to go anywhere.

He huffs out another laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners and shoulders shaking... then winces slightly and presses a hand to his head. "Ouch." He scrubs the hand down his face then drops it again and fiddles with his phone, smile back in place already. "Well, I can think of plenty of places I wouldn't mind you shoving me, but the trunk of your car definitely isn't on the list." He winks teasingly, because why not? And it never hurts to make sure up front he's not saddling himself working with a homophobe, if he is hopefully they can find some way to end this, preferably still amicably, before things go any farther. "I'm Josh. Warner." Because he might get that out there up front as well, given his dad had an extensive and less than savory reputation.

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tinkermoose: (looking up)

de doop

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2015-01-28 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
Josh sleeps remarkably peacefully for someone who's putatively a prisoner, and it doesn't take him long to go from decorously curled up on his side to spread-eagled face down across pretty much the entire bed. He hardly moves after that, though when Dwayne finally gets up and starts moving around he actually shifts a little, and when he raps on the doorframe he rolls onto his side and blinks his eyes open, looking groggy and disoriented for all of five seconds or so before it evidently comes flooding back to him.

He scrubs his hands over his face then sprawls onto his back and stretches luxuriously before even trying to answer. "Ye-ah." It's broken up by a yawn, and he looks sheepish when he pushes himself to sit upright and try again. "Yeah, I, uh, I think so." He swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits there for a few seconds, then smiles up at Dwayne. "Yeah, I'm good. Don't feel like I'm in danger of face planting when I stand up anymore, and the gnomes have stopped playing drums in my head."
tinkermoose: (looking up)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2015-02-15 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
Josh is, as promised, easy and cooperative about getting out of the hotel and to Dwayne's safe house. He's made his decision, and he's pretty sure it's a good one; he's not going to try and change his mind. He's made sure his own contacts know he's safe and won't be looking for him, and they're probably attributing his disappearance to a bad reaction to losing the girl--reasonable, considering how much they know about what kind of hell she's gone to. There was good reason, after all, Josh had been willing to put his life on the line trying to get her out.

He waits patiently behind Dwayne as he surveys the interior, then follows him in and looks around as well. Dwayne's clearly working with more funds than the group he's been with, being able to keep a place like this on hand. As soon as the door's closed behind them Josh toes out of the uncomfortable dress shoes he's heartily sick and tired of wearing, then sucks off the suit jacket and tie he'd put back on for the trip rather than leave behind or carry. Suits that fit him aren't easy to come by, after all, especially nice suits that fit him well, and he lays them both neatly over the back of the couch then pads into the kitchen, tugging his dress shirt loose and rolling the sleeves up as he walks.

"I'm not much of a gourmet guy, anyway." Josh grins, easy and impish. "Never enough food. Want help putting this all away?"
tinkermoose: (Default)

well, that makes two of us. Thought I'd done this a couple days after you tagged :/

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2015-03-08 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Josh follows Dwayne's lead and starts unloading the groceries and checking the cabinets to figure where they fit, moving easily around him in the small space as the older man talks, though his attention kind of loses focus for a moment as he catches that half-smile and the way Dwayne's shoulders shift under his shirt at the easy roll. Man, he doesn't run into many guys approaching his size, and even fewer of them who are fit and, well, built... and he needs to stop noticing that and keep his focus on business before he makes things awkward.

"I can cook some," he offers, smiling, as he finds space for a bag of rice in the cabinets and then checks the drawers for where to put a loaf of bread. "I can throw something together for dinner, if you want?" Because he might as well make himself useful in the one way he can, under the circumstances, and there's plenty of time for him to shower and change before getting dinner started. And besides, if he's cooking then he's not sitting around staring at Dwayne while he cooks. "And really?" He grins at the older man, hip propped against the counter. "Right now a shower and fresh clothes sound pretty darn close to paradise, and pizza's not far back on the list, so I'm sure not gonna complain."
tinkermoose: (red shirt smile)

[personal profile] tinkermoose 2015-03-16 09:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"Awesome! It'll be great to get out of the monkey... suit." Josh realizes he's staring again as Dwayne tugs at the collar and cuffs of his dress shirt, and he finds himself wishing the big ginger would maybe open a couple buttons. Or roll the sleeves up. And oh god he's just as glad he hasn't, because then he'd probably be doomed in the staring department, and he turns away to poke into another cabinet, licking his lips at his suddenly dry mouth.

He might be doomed in general, actually, sharing space with Dwayne for who knows how long... and the man's next comment doesn't help, or the look on his face when he makes it, because it just makes Josh think of taking that shower with an audience. And that Dwayne wouldn't be unjustified in expecting to keep an eye on him, all things considered. And, crap, that he's torn between being mortified and... jesus, he really doesn't need this, turned on at the thought. Thank god it's not actually going to happen.

There's not a darn thing he can do about the blush he feels heating his cheeks, but he keeps his back mostly turned to Dwayne, with poking around in the cabinets as an excuse, and just turns his head enough to meet his eyes. And catch that sharp, bright grin and the quirk of coppery eyebrows, and he has to bite back the urge to flirt. Because, yeah, he's always known he has a thing for big guys... and for gingers... and maybe a bit more interest in older guys than is strictly standard, but this is business, important and dangerous business and a potential in for being able to do a heck of a lot more good than he's been managing so far, and he needs to not let his libido screw it up.

"Yeah." Oh good, he doesn't sound strangled, though maybe a little hoarse. "Sounds like a plan, I'll just-" He nods at the cabinet he currently has open. "Poke around a bit more and figure out dinner first, then have that shower." And maybe after that he'll be able to keep his cool through cooking and eating, talking through the situation some more, and then escaping to crash out for a while.

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