ticktockgrin (
ticktockgrin) wrote2014-07-18 12:36 am
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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.
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.
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"Yeah, that too. An' it's not like I don't stand out plenty already." No point pretending otherwise, after all, and he actually sounds a bit apologetic, though it's not like he has any control over it. There aren't a hell of a lot of men his size in the world outside of professional sports, after all, and he tends to attract a fair amount of rubbernecking.
"Sounds like a plan." When he pushes back to his feet this time he's a little steadier, though he sways for a second before he catches his balance. He takes a moment to shrug off the suit coat and lay it at the foot of the bed, then follow it with the tie, and he feels more comfortable immediately. He's really not the suit and tie type. He huffs a laugh, followed by a quick wince, and smiles sheepishly at Dwayne. "Yeah, kinda outgrew escaping out bathroom windows by the time I was sixteen or so. Sneaky takes me a bit more effort than most." But he manages it just fine when he has to... he just doesn't include things like bathroom windows in his potential escape routes when making alternate plans. "Just rap on the door when you're ready for me to come out," he advises, before slipping through said door and closing it behind him. He's really looking forward to washing away some of the anxiety sweat from this whole clusterfuck.
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He shrugs, as Josh gets used to the ice on his head. "It's more than just standing out. It's presentation, too. It's pretty amazing what you can get away with if you act like you belong there." He gives Josh a critical eye, head tilted thoughtfully. Huge, yeah, but...Dwayne could definitely work with him. He's got youth, that smile, and traditional good looks that would make it easy to put him in a few different roles besides just a legbreaker. Face it, in spite of his size, the guy's cute and could probably get a few more years out of it. "Well, okay. Acting like you belong there, and maybe a little hair dye." He runs a hand over his own hair, amused. "If I gave you a college jersey and a puppy? I bet I could sneak you in damn near anywhere."
Josh starts to get up, and Dwayne gives him room, once it looks like he's steady on his feet. "Feel free to use anything you need in there," he says with a nod, picking up his cell phone again.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
It only takes Dwayne a little while to fire off a few texts and one brief conversation- with everything prearranged, it only takes a few check-ins to keep everything going smoothly. He even makes arrangements for a few things to be delivered to the crash-house, just to make things easier, and by the time he raps on the door to let Josh know he's done, he knows that there'll be some basic groceries and clothes waiting for them.
He's pretty damn sure that there's no way the kid squeezed out a narrow, beveled window on the fifth floor, and he's unlikely to try to shank him with a modified cardboard toilet paper tube, so he feels pretty secure with the whole thing. Just a knock loud enough to be heard over the running water, and "All set. We're going to be here a little longer, so no rush."
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He knows what Dwayne means about presentation, he actually had managed to mostly pull off looking like he belonged in that suit trying to buy himself a sex slave, after all... not that he's particularly proud of that success. "Think I'd make a good ginger?" He ducks his head and raises both eyebrows. And, yes, he knows exactly how adorable he looks doing it, though it's more a look he perfected for getting cookies off sweet old neighbor ladies or conning teachers into not calling the father who wasn't going to be there to answer the phone anyway, not so much for charming hot older guys. But, hey, adaptability's a gift, right?
"The puppy just might make that work," he agrees as he makes his careful way to the bathroom. "Keep me from having to talk to anyone about anything but how cute it is." God knows he couldn't talk about college, he figures faking being a spoiled rich brat is a heck of a lot easier than trying to pretend he knows anything about college, given he never even graduated high school.
Maybe he'll be able to get a few tips while they're stuck together, even if Dwayne doesn't decide to let him in on his operation. Guy's gotta have more than a few tricks up his sleeve, after all. But for now he needs to wash up a bit and let Dwayne take care of business... and that last offer has him regretting that it's just a hotel bathroom, doubtless full of samples, because he wouldn't mind being maybe just a little creepy and checking out the guy's aftershave.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Nice as a shower sounds, it seems kind of pointless when he'll just have to put the same clothes back on... and he's not really sure he's up to anything that strenuous anyway. So he settles for stripping off his now slightly limp button down and the t-shirt under it and giving himself a quick wipe down. It feels good to get rid of a layer of sweat and slick his hair back from his face, and when the knock comes he turns off the water and scrubs a towel over his damp hair before settling the towel over his shoulders and swinging the door open.
Josh is bare to the waist in well-tailored slacks, his belt hanging open and a rumpled undershirt dangling from one hand while his damp hair drips onto the towel on his shoulders. He leans against the door frame for a moment and settles his ice pack back in place. "Long enough for the nap, still?" he asks, because dang he's feeling like he could use it now. Even the idea of struggling back into his t-shirt, which is pretty much the only comfortable article of clothing he has right now, other than his underwear, isn't particularly appealing.
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Dwayne smiles cryptically. He's a natural ginger, judging by the coppery hair that shows on his forearms. "I don't know, I think what you've got is pretty damn good. Red's not all it's cracked up to be...I wind up the face guy just because there's no missing me." The brown hair goes really well with that 'I'm adorable' face, wholesome and uncalculated.
-=-=-=-=-
Goddamn, he would have treated for dinner if he'd known he was getting a free show.
No perving on the kidnapping victim, he reminds himself mournfully as he takes in the view of Josh's upper body without a shirt, and the tease presented by the open belt. He's pretty sure Josh doesn't realize just how much older Dwayne is, but Dwayne figures...well, he can look a little, at least, without being a dirty old man. And considering he looks about ten years younger than he is...
Maybe they can talk about dinner, assuming this isn't too much of a disaster.
Dwayne clears his throat, doing his best not to stare at what's the most impressive set of abs he's seen in a very long time. "Would be a shame for the bed to go completely to waste" pops out before he can stop it, but he manages to smooth it over without missing a heartbeat. It's a king-sized bed and even just for sleeping, it's a luxury for guys their size to be able to actually stretch out. No harm done, right? "Go ahead and put your shirt up to air out, and catch a nap. I'm going to check a few more things-" he taps his phone- "and then I'll hold the fort here for a bit. Should have everything set at the safehouse by the time we get there, though."
He smiles crookedly, glancing at the bed and the bathroom again. "But...may as well enjoy the amenities while you can."
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Normally Josh would be at least somewhat aware of his state of undress and the attention it's drawing, but he's just punchy enough still not to really notice or care. Not that he'd care even if he were operating at full capacity, or at least, not that he'd care in a bad way. He's been managing to enjoy the (sadly, fully clothed) view himself as it is, and the idea of the appreciation being reciprocated wouldn't go amiss.
Right now, though, it's the prospect of stretching out on that bed--a bed that'll actually accommodate his full height without having to curl into a ball or let his feet dangle off the end--that appeals the most. Though, man, at the comment about the bed his eyes flick back to Dwayne, quick enough that he wobbles a bit on his feet for just a moment, and he blinks a couple times before he cracks a cockeyed half smile. Because no way he's lucky enough the guy meant that the way it sorta sounded... and even if he did it's not really the time or place. Though, man, now his minds firmly in the gutter.
"Yeah, you paid for the room, I might as well get your money's worth, right?" And he drapes his shirt over the back of a chair before settling on the edge of the bed and then carefully stretching out. "Oh man, it's almost worth getting clocked to be able to stretch out without me feet hanging off the end." He directs another bright, almost boyish smile Dwayne's way, and it's pretty clear he's legitimately enthused about that simple luxury. But it's been a heck of a long time since he slept in a bed that's actually big enough for him, and there's no reason not to enjoy the simple pleasures when the opportunity arises.
He rolls carefully onto his side, ice pack abandoned for now, and his smile fades to something sleepy and warm. God he's tired. "Plenty of room if you finish up an' wanna crash for a while too," he murmurs, and his eyes are slipping shut as he pats the bed behind him in demonstration. "Be pretty tacky t'monopolize your bed an' all," he adds, but it's trailing off to the point of almost being a mumble... clearly he's either not worried about his safety around Dwayne, or he's just too tired and loopy to care still. Either way, he's asleep in pretty short order.