ticktockgrin | Negotiations With Teeth

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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.

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Josh has a couple hours to sleep before Dwayne feels secure in packing up to go. If he's still got lookout outside, he hopes they brought coffee and a good spot to settle in (and while Dwayne might be smartass enough to send a Starbucks delivery out to them, it's better to avoid getting them involved right this moment.) It will take a bit for a runner to deliver what Dwayne's asked for to the safehouse, anyway.

Awake and alert, Dwayne passes the time reading on his phone until it's a good time to move. And if he glances over occasionally to watch Josh sleep, well, he's just keeping an eye on things. In spite of his size he looks even younger, asleep. Sprawled on the bed and thoroughly enjoying it, and Dwayne is reminded he does tend to take it for granted, these days. It's been a long time since his days of getting by on cramped barracks racks, and if he's going to spend his money on anything, it's comfort.

So it's nice to see someone appreciating the huge bed for a bit, and even if it's not for too long it's enough time for Josh to get rid of some of his headache and let his shirt air out. And Dwayne can be sure that the safehouse is ready and waiting by the time he gives a huge stretch, head to toe, and wanders over toward the bed area of the room.

His wolf wants to go over and give the shirts hanging on the shower rod a good and thorough sniff, but it's an impulse he firmly denies in favor of simply rapping on the doorframe. "Hey. You feeling good enough to move out?"

Edited 2015-01-06 03:59 (UTC)

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."

Dwayne's made several calls while Josh showered and slept, a good parts of those text's to ensure that the safehouse he wants to use is properly stocked for both himself and a guest. At least some of the time he's waiting at the hotel is to give his runner time to make the deliveries, and if Josh can use the nap, well, that all works out.

The young man is pretty damn cute asleep, once he's relaxed enough to sprawl, and Dwayne lets him rest a little longer on seeing how comfortable he is. There's no scent of sickness or bleeding from him, so Dwayne is content to simply keep an offhand eye on him as the time passes. The extra time doesn't do any harm, particularly since the hotel room is paid for, and the longer after the fat man has left, the less chance of any sort of confrontation on the way out. It makes things easy, and Dwayne? He's patient. He hasn't made it in this game this long by rushing things.

***

It's a few minutes' drive out from the hotel and Dwayne takes a long, winding route through the city streets before taking the highway out to the suburbs. The safehouse is quiet, a nice little one-story house set back from the street, occupied and kept up just enough to keep too many questions from being asked. Rental turnovers these days are high in this economy: an absentee owner isn't notable as long as the property's well-maintained. He's got places to lay low in the city, but for this particular operation, he likes the space of the suburbs. Especially with a guest, and the potential for more people coming and going as they work on who else they'll need for this operation.

In spite of only using the house occasionally, as both a meeting place and occasional temporary housing, Dwayne's kept it clean, neat and secure, so when he and Josh arrive, it's a nice calm place to hide out for a few days. He scents the air surreptitiously as he unlocks the door, reassured that the only recent visitor has been the runner.

Further proved by the plastic shopping bags on the couch and the groceries on the counter. Dwayne gives the place a long, slow gaze around, then nods and steps aside to let Josh in. "Clothes so you aren't stuck in those, and groceries. Plenty of hot water and the utilities are on, so should be all set for a few days. However long this winds up taking."

The SUV is safely stashed in the garage and they're settled, so now they can wait. Not the easiest part of the job, but at least they're comfortable and can make a little use of the time.

"Won't be gourmet, but I think we'll get by," he says with a smile, rubbing at his beard and giving the rest of the groceries a glance. Plenty of supplies, including enough supplement shakes and general high-protein, high-carb food to fuel Dwayne's metabolism without attracting attention. It's only a few days. If Dwayne can't get by that long without giving himself away, it's time to hang up his hat.

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?"

It's a gamble on both sides, but if Dwayne wants enough trust to be able to work with Josh, to get a good read on the kid, he's got to give a little.

Luckily, the younger man makes it easy. He's already making himself at home and Dwayne is doubly glad he thought of getting extra clothes for him.

Resources make this job a lot easier. Granted those resources aren't exactly legally obtained, but if he's going to make money, at least it's from people who he doesn't regret scamming. There's a certain sense of satisfaction in using slaver money to rescue slaves. Combined with a little wise investing, it turns into a pretty good amount of money, nearly enough to keep them afloat without a day job. They're a small scale operation but the ones they save, they can support for long enough to get back on their feet, instead of just pulling them out and dropping them right back into the same desperate circumstances.

And that means something. Dwayne has never been one to do a half-assed job on anything.

"Fridge and freezer should be full already so this can go in the cabinets," he says with an airy wave, moving to put the boxes of cereal on top of the fridge. "We can eat in tonight, keep a low profile, but if things stay quiet, maybe get some pizza or Indian delivered to keep from getting too bored." He rolls his big shoulders, a half-smile on his face. It might not be the perfect situation, but they could do a lot worse. Stakeouts are never a party, but decent food and a good bed make a big difference. If they've got to stay put, it's better they use the time to make sure they're well-rested. "May not be paradise, but we won't suffer while we're waiting, and if something happens sooner rather than later, we're ready to move. And you can get showered up, get another icepack on that head, and work the kinks out before we actually have to do anything that involves getting around in a hurry."

They'll have some planning to do, but settling in comes first.

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."

"I think that's a fantastic plan." Dwayne grins as he finishes with the bag and tugs at his shirt cuffs, then his collar. He's got his own go bag, of course, and changing his clothes is a priority as soon as he can manage. Just because he wears a suit well, that doesn't mean it's his preference and he'll be happy to get into some jeans or sweats.

He tips his head at Josh. "I think I can let you get away with that much without an audience." Coppery eyebrows quirk. Would he sit there and watch the younger man shower to make sure he doesn't go out a window? He would. He would also enjoy the hell out of it.

But they have a job to do, and they've come to a pretty good agreement. He still grins, though, letting just a tiny bit of the wolf out. "And you're welcome to the cooking. I can grill a steak or a chicken with a beer can up its butt, but I'm lazy and I know it." Nothing like really good take-out to file the rough edges off an apex predator. "If you wanna go get cleaned up and changed, I'll take first shift lookout. I expect things will be pretty quiet for the night unless one of the other guys on watch rings us in, so you can rest off some more of that headache and I can get you caught up on...well, whatever I need to. Answer any more questions you've got."

"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.

It's an awkward sort of domestic, but Dwayne has done worse. He's rescued strays before and he's pretty sure once they've settled in, gotten feed and gotten the game of it, and gone over Dwayne's SOP, they'll be on more solid ground.

And distract them from the fact that the kid is putting off some very...confusing signals and Dwayne is still trying to figure out exactly what to make of that. He absently wonders if Josh realizes just how much older he is...It's easy to forget at times that even if he knows he's just skated right past forty-five, his body lost track of things somewhere around a decade ago. Mostly. Some days, he's pretty sure it still shows in the eyes, maybe a little bit on his posture and the way he pinches his mouth, but he's kept in good shape and the lycanthropy virus, well...it's been a big help, too.

So fed would be a great distraction. Dwayne needs about five times the calories a human does even without shifting, and he can only make up so much of that with protein drinks and Powerbars. And he figures that the time it'll take him to wash up and change will give Josh a bit of time to...process everything.

"Feel free to figure out what you think you can put together out of what's there. Open season." He gestures, indicating Josh can have free run of the supplies. It's nothing especially fancy or complicated, but there's plenty of basics...Plus a very good share of meat. Man cannot live on canned soup and TV dinners alone. "We aren't millionaires or anything, but covering the grocery bill, that we can do."

Well, okay, he's lying a bit. But in his own defense, most of Dwayne's personal millionaire status is tied up in investments and non-liquid assets. It's not like his (tiny handful of, not mega-multi) millions are just lying around on the coffee table- keeping that balance up takes work.

Josh is probably almost as confused by the signals he's putting out as Dwayne is, though he's mercifully unaware the big ginger can probably smell the hint of arousal on him to go along with everything else. He knows now isn't the time or the place, and, heck, that there's probably never going to be an appropriate time or place, but it's hard to completely ignore the fact Dwayne hits so many of his kinks so hard the man might as well have a damn sledge hammer... and the obvious competence isn't helping on that point either.

So, yeah, food. Cleaning up. Awesome distractions before he manages to actively embarrass himself instead of just doing it passively. "How does spaghetti sound?" He's used to bulking meals up with as many cheap carbs as he can, because even without a werewolf metabolism it can be hard to come by enough calories to fuel almost three hundred pounds of muscle on the kind of budget he's working with, but as a bonus there's actually plenty of meat to throw into it now. In fact, he thinks there might even have been some Italian sausage in the fridge, which just about has his mouth watering. "It's not fancy, but it's easy and filling, and I doctor up a mean jarred sauce." He grins, the kind of quick, bright smile that tends to put people off their guard and make them forget that he towers over them, and deposits the onion he discovered on the counter. Because onion is an essential addition to making a cheap jar of sauce taste good.

"Can do garlic bread too, if we've got the fixings," he adds, and shifts his attention to checking to see if they do, because spaghetti might be a pretty simple, basic meal, but he's determined to impress with it if at all possible.

Dwayne gestures vaguely toward the counter. "That sounds fine with me. Something to keep us going." He grins, content that he can trust Josh to put together something reasonable for both of them. There's enough of that confidence there. That easy, completely self- smile and manner... When he's not being a little too hot-headed for his own good, at least.

He might be too big to smuggle around easily, but if he really can handle dealing with wolves well? He could be a good addition to their crew. Tough enough to handle a situation (and he can take a punch, Dwayne definitely gives him plenty of due credit), but without the aggressive manner that could set off an edgy or frightened wolf.

It's a good combination, and being able to fumble his way around a kitchen is worth a few bonus points to boot.

If you want to take some of those sub rolls, those would probably be good for that." Split them in half, some garlic and butter, a run through the oven and it's more than close enough. "Should be more than enough to manage that and still have enough left over for sandwiches later." Dwayne has done his fair share of improvising, too, and the fact that Josh is thinking the same lines is also a sign in his favor.

Plus, Dwayne is starving. Even plain spaghetti would have been fine but if Josh can do anything even remotely interesting with what he's got to work with, he will be Dwayne's hero right now. Dwayne's main interest right now is to get his suit off, get in a good stretch, and get them fed, and after that? Play it by ear, but right now the Wolf has very clear priorities and the key to keeping it in check is to pay attention to its grumbling.

"Figure you're probably as big on the calories as I am." Josh smiles back over his shoulder again and finally finds his stride as he pulls out a jar of sauce and a package of dried spaghetti. "Think a pound'll do us both?" And the question is completely sincere, because he knows just how much he'll eat if given free rein and he's not above taking the opportunity if it's given. "Sub rolls'd be perfect for that." And he adds a jar, yes, of crushed garlic to his haul with a kid in a candy store grin and deposits everything on the counter.

He's definitely too big to smuggle, but the one thing Josh has never had any trouble with is getting on with people. He doesn't have a naturally aggressive bone in his body, despite a lifetime of his dad trying to train it into him, and what temper he has is hard to raise... so long as he's sober, which is one of the reasons he doesn't like to drink. He's not a mean drunk, but he's a lot easier to set off, and he's seen where that road leads.

"Looks like I've got everything I'll need," he announces, surveying his prizes. "Saw ground beef and sausage in the fridge, and if there's any parmesan in there that'll just be gravy." He looks down at himself, then at the bags of clothes before turning his attention back to Dwayne. "So I think I'll take that shower now, get cleaned up and changed before I manage to spill anything on my best-" Only, but he's not going to say that- "dress shirt, and then I'll get supper going while you do whatever you need to. Sound like a plan?"

Plus, Josh has some actual, good groceries to work with. Decent jarred spices, even if it's just a few of them. Butter instead of cheap, watery imitation spread. Good quality grated and shredded cheese. Nothing meant for a complicated menu, but definitely enough to throw together a couple of steaks and a salad, some french bread pizzas, or, well, yes. Spaghetti.

Dwayne smirks. Josh has no idea... "It definitely won't go to waste. I don't fight heavyweight anymore, but ring weight hasn't changed." He rolls his shoulders, amused. Big and solid without tipping into "too stacked to move", but there's no mistaking him for anything but a tank. Now that he has a plan, he does unbutton his cuffs, just as ready to get his stiff dress clothes off, and he rolls up his sleeves as he talks.

They both seem to be charmers, not just bricks, and Dwayne likes that. It makes him a lot more confident that, were Josh to stick around, he could actually work with him, and God knows that if the kid was really serious about this, he would be better off with someone who knew what they were doing. The exact, ugly details of just what kind of ending the story could have had are still a little too fresh in mind and the more Dwayne watches Josh, the more his wolf disapproves. He fights well, but he's still just a pup.

Well, the wolf doesn't get a full say in the matter. But Dwayne does agree that Josh isn't cut out to be muscle...not if he wants to keep that brightness.

"I ordered a few things for you in those bags there. It was short notice, but I already know my way around the Big And Tall store, so it should fit." He indicates the shopping bags on the couch. "I may make a trip by some contacts later, but that'll be strictly a casual occasion, so jeans will do the job. No black tie affairs on the planner at the moment." He gives a look around, searching for anything that needs immediate attention. There isn't much, but he'll be fidgety for a bit until they get settled in anyway. May as well burn off the energy with whatever is most productive. "Go ahead and get clean. Just make sure to take a break if you get dizzy, alright? No accidents. I'll finish up out here."

Aw man, that smirk. Josh grins back at him with a quiet chuckle... that almost goes choked when Dwayne does unbutton his cuffs and roll his sleeves up. God, he's so doomed. It's not that he isn't good at keeping it to himself and keeping things normal when he's attracted to guys, he's not a jerk, after all. But it's a bit different in this kind of close quarters and he shifts his attention determinedly back to his ingredients, lining them up near the stove for something to do.

"Yeah, kinda figured finding storage for leftovers isn't likely to be much of an issue." He's still young enough that he can eat like it's going out of style, especially combined with his habitual exercise regimen. As much as he hated most of his father's obsessive training, he's never managed to walk away from it entirely. He might not fight or shoot much anymore, but there aren't many who can keep up with his morning workouts. Dwayne's assessment's pretty spot on, though--he's more than qualified to be the muscle training-wise, as Dwayne learned back at the hotel, but temperament is a completely different matter, and the ugliness and violence would eat away at him over time.

"Man, you're a life saver." He turns back around, figuring he's going to have to just get used to it sooner rather than later, and it was more the act of watching the big redhead roll his cuffs up over his forearms that had caught him off guard for a second there than anything. "Figure close counts, won't be the end of the world if I look a bit like I'm prepping for a flood, right?" And given Dwayne's own proportions the odds are good the t-shirts, at least, will fit fine. And he will not hope that they're a little tight for purposes of showing off, because this is professional and he's trying to make a good impression, dangit... and not that particular type of good impression, either.

He smiles again, none of his awkwardness showing in anything but his scent, which he isn't aware of being an issue, and goes to rifle through the bags just enough to make sure he has the right ones. "Yessir, promise not to brain myself in the bathroom." He glances over as he hefts the appropriate bags and grins, quick and bright, then turns for the bathroom before adding, "It's bad enough you had to haul me through the hotel like a sack of potatoes, having to deal with me naked and wet and out like a light would just be adding insult to injury."

"If it lasts long enough to go into the fridge, it won't be a problem," he says with a nod. "This place gets used as temporary housing sometimes, so it actually has necessary things like towels and Tupperware." He's giving away a bit more than he should, probably, but he doubts Josh is likely to run off with it to the highest bidder. Especially considering they rotate locations with pretty fair regularity.

Hopefully, Josh doesn't suffer too badly with the clothes, considering Dwayne made an educated guess for a guy even bigger than himself. Having errand runners to make a fast shipping trip while Josh was shopping is, admittedly, one of the better perks of being the boss and having resources. Considering the bad old days when he'd done this waiting game in a cramped van, or a cheap, foul-smelling apartment, living on Powerbars and whatever take-out was nearby...He's come a long way. Still not glamorous, exactly, but it allowed them the shelter and rest that let them function at their best. "I had to make some fast guesses at your sizes, but they should be wearable."

"Naked, wet, and unconscious is sort of the trifecta of awkward," Dwayne agrees solemnly. "Not that I'm not a gentleman." And he couldn't throw Josh over a shoulder far more easily than he'd admit. "It's one way to prove I'm still in shape, at least until I pull something, but it's also kind of a hard precious memory to forget." The smirk widens into something mischievous.

"If it helps you feel better, though, if it had been more than a few feet I would have just gotten a luggage cart."

"Yeeeah, I'll take a pass, thanks." Besides, if there's ever any nakedness involved Josh would very much like to be wide awake for it, thanks. Which there will not be, dammit. And he's going to stop thinking about it. Immediately. Because he's too old for this kind of nonsense and there's no way he's going to screw up his chances for getting in with an organization that clearly knows what it's doing. He wants to make a real difference, and this is the best chance that's come his way in years.

"Pretty sure I made a bad enough first impression as it is, no need to double down," he adds, turning to walk backwards a step before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom, bags in hand. It's as well set up as Dwayne had indicated--and the window is, in fact, way too small for him to slip through even if he'd wanted to--and it only takes him a moment to find everything he needs. The shower head's even high enough that he only has to duck a little to get his hair, something he imagines he can thanks Dwayne's own height for. And if he spends a bit more time in there than is strictly necessary, well... the water pressure's good. And he's recently concussed. And, okay, his ostensible 'captor' is stupidly hot in all the right ways and if he takes the edge off in here then maybe the odds of embarrassing himself out there will go down a bit. At least he's quiet about it... and young enough still that it doesn't exactly take long.

All of which means he's at least a little more relaxed when he pads back out of the bathroom a little over half an hour later, barefoot and in surprisingly well-fitting jeans--a little baggy, thank god, rather than tight, and with shoes on it probably would be barely noticeable that they're fractionally short--and an only slightly too-tight t-shirt that, yes, shows all the hours of training Josh puts in to best advantage. Even the underwear aren't too bad combined with the room in the jeans and, all in all, Josh feels pretty comfortable as he scruffs a hand through his shaggy, still-damp hair and looks for Dwayne.

"Ready for me to start dinner?" He definitely is, but if Dwayne has anything else to handle he can hold it off for a while and just crack open one of those bags of chips or something.

"You could have done worse," Dwayne says, a small smile on his face. "I've got a few stories of jobs that didn't go exactly right, myself."

* * *

Josh taking an extra-long shower is also a good chance for Dwayne to change, then wolf down a couple of protein bars. By the time the younger man is done, Dwayne is feeling a bit more secure in his stomach's status.

That doesn't mean he wants to wait on dinner, though. "Busy day, if you want to get dinner on, I definitely won't complain." His wolf is tempted to go rushing into the bathroom and get every last scent of Josh's scent while it's still fresh and wet, but Dwayne has more restraint than that. He's comfortably out of his suit and in a pair of sweats and T-shirt, which is a vast improvement, even if it takes away some of that "respectable businessman" image.

And he's fairly pleased with his size guesses for Josh's wardrobe, including the slightly snug T-shirt. Dwayne is reminded that for a werewolf, he's a lazy bastard. He's in excellent shape, but not nearly as defined...aside from his supernatural advantage, he mostly just relies on a regular jog, some light weights work, and the occasional sparring to keep himself on the ball.

It's not just strength, after all. In the ring, he'd taken down plenty of guys who'd put too much confidence in just being bigger. Likewise, he'd dropped more than a few who'd assumed because Dwayne was big, he put all his focus on it in a fight.

Having decided to take the middle ground, Dwayne drops down on the couch, in conversing distance to the open kitchen without crowding Josh. Wolf instincts at work even when he doesn't plan for it.

Oh man... Josh is ridiculously glad he took the edge off when he catches sight of Dwayne, because sharp as he'd looked in the suit, dressed down for the evening in t-shirt and sweats he's possibly even more distracting. If he actually thought there was a god he'd be really tempted to think he was a sadistic bastard and was screwing with him for fun, the way Dwayne nails a pretty solid cross-section of his competence kink, his thing for gingers of either sex, and his marked preference for big guys.

It's a welcome relief to be able to head straight for the kitchen and distract himself with the easy routine of getting dinner started, and he rummages around until he comes up with a pot for the pasta and a big skillet for the meat and sauce. He's not any kind of gourmet, but he's been functionally on his own for most of his life, and spaghetti's something he can throw together pretty much on auto-pilot. "So, what are the odds I'm gonna get a chance to make myself useful any time soon?" he asks once he's got the ground beef and sausage browning and water on to boil for the pasta. "Versus, y'know, just cooling my heels and staying out of the way?" Because, really, that's a lot more important than how distracting Dwayne's forearms are, and he's going to get, and stay, on track, dammit.

Dwayne has a feeling he's going to have his hands full with this one. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, and he knows his way around the kitchen (which he finds doubly charming, with how comfortable he is with it. Stereotypes? Pfeh, and Dwayne appreciates that.)

"Things tend to be very 'hurry up and wait'. On a job like this, though, things hit the fan fast when they do." He rubs at his arm. How far in does he want to drag Josh? That's a hard call. He knows the kid is willing, but he also is human. No matter how sincere and serious he is, some things in this operation, he's not going to be able to back out of once he's seen. "Extraction always tends to get messy, even with the edge of operators on the inside." He frowns. "You pretty much picked the deep end to jump into. Any other day, I'd take you on a stakeout, maybe lurk a bar to get you started."

He smiles, and rubs at his wrist idly. "If you're really that antsy, though, we can always go out back and try a little sparring. Blow off some steam, and see how you do when it's not a sucker-punch." He looks innocent.

Josh had actually meant the question more as a matter of would he be allowed to be useful rather than would the opportunity arise, the fact that Dwayne's treating it as the latter is something he's going to take as a positive sign. "Yeah, well-" His smile's more than a little impish as he starts chopping onions to toss in with the browning meat. "I've pretty much always sucked at the whole slow and easy thing," he admits. "Once I'm in I'm all in." It's pretty much how he'd dealt with walking out on his father, coming out, and, once he'd realized exactly what had been going on right under his nose for so much of his life, and was still going on in too many places, with getting involved in the werewolf rescue movement.

"Sparring... man-" He hides a blush, or tries to, by focusing his attention back on the food as he scrapes onions into the pan and gives it a stir, and tries not to think about just how up close and personal that would involve getting with Dwayne. "Wouldn't mind a chance to prove I'm not completely incompetent." He glances back up from beneath his eyelashes and makes eye contact, not letting himself be distracted by Dwayne's forearms, or the tendons in his throat.

"Well, if I didn't think you'd be useful, I would have dropped you someplace out of the way until this was over," Dwayne points out. He watches Josh move around the kitchen without being creepy about it, but his wolf likes keeping an eye on the younger man. Prey? He hasn't sorted it out yet. Josh definitely isn't a dominant, not a threat (at least not in that way), but Dwayne...

Well, the pack thing hasn't worked our well for him. Just ask his ex-wife. Dominant enough not to fold when expected to, but with no interest in power plays...That hadn't made for the player Caroline had wanted but it had raised a lot of hackles in a very unstable pack.

Dwayne was pretty sure that wasn't why his wolf was watching Josh's every move but, just in case, he'll be wary.

"I'm still trying to decide how much is safe to let you see. For you, and for the other people I'm working with. But so far, you seem like a good kid, and you aren't coming in blind, and I'd be a liar if I said we couldn't use the help." He leans back and rubs his eyes. Okay, so he is a little tired, considering how complicated today had gotten, and his nerves weren't helping. This was a big operation and of course he was going to be worried. And his voice is a little lower when he says, "Sometimes, it gets bad. I'm not going to lie about that. We try and use the law to our advantage to keep things from getting ugly, but considering the kind of people that we're dealing with, and the fact that werewolves are involved...which a lot of the time, aren't even considered human..." He trails off, and shrugs again. He's pretty sure that Josh understands what he means. And if he doesn't, then he'll spell it out.

But things go bad, and sometimes there's violence. Sometimes people get hurt badly, and sometimes, people die. Dwayne's been lucky so far, but he's not going to pretend it's not a possibility, or that there isn't blood on his hands.

Josh flashes him a quick, pleased smile at Dwayne's words, not even questioning the way the older man has cut right to the heart of his concerns without him having to voice them. He's definitely not dominant. At all. He'll stand up for himself, but he won't challenge a competent leader he respects, and he's more likely to walk away from an incompetent one he doesn't and go his own way than to push for power. So far, everything he's seen of Dwayne is telling him to stay.

"Hey man, you've gotta do what's right for your people, not gonna hear any arguments from me." He tosses in some garlic he's been peeling and chopping while talking, and then hits the whole pan with some salt and pepper and turning the heat down a little. It smells like browning beef with the sweet overtones of the sausage and onion and garlic and his stomach rumbles in anticipation as he shifts over to prepping the garlic spread and the bread it's going on.

"And, uh... yeah." He ducks his head, pleased again for the distraction of cooking. "Believe me, I know it can get ugly." He's only seen the aftermath, so far, and heard the stories... some of them from, or about, men and women, even children, his father had hunted down and sold into their slavery. And he's heard about what can happen when rescue operations go wrong, not that there are that many of them. Too many people just don't care at all, don't think of werewolves deserve any of the rights or consideration of humans. It makes his stomach twist and his voice drop. "I, uh... I wanna help, though. I know what I'm getting into, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

Dwayne smiles, wiping his palms on his jeans. God, he gets kind of preachy at times. He gives Josh his best disarming smile, the one that says it isn't a lack of faith in Josh...just boilerplate.

Especially when he catches the brief drop of shoulders, the duck of head that means the younger man has his own thoughts about the matter. Dwayne says from the couch, "I spend a lot of time getting people out of this whole mess. There's ways to cut ties once you're in, but it's a hell of a lot harder than setting your boundaries before you're ever in that far. So I just wanted to know for sure." He shakes his head, and gets to his feet to wander the few yards to the kitchen. It's not a big house, and Josh has the stove going: distraction and space enough that Dwayne feels comfortable enough closing the distance a bit. He leans against the doorjamb, deciding that's close enough.

"So far? I'll say you look promising, though." He nods toward the stove with a small smile. "Cooking is a big bonus, too. But just in general. So I'm willing to give it a try if you are. Get you familiar with things, and...I don't know, if your friends have the same attitude, have a look at them later down the line." He rubs his short hair down, smoothing it. "But for now, getting through this job is the main goal."

He pauses, tilting his head, then frowns slightly. Okay, this part is probably a little crass, but, well...he'll bring it up anyway. "And that will mean, for what it's worth, a fair share of the profit, if there is any. Most of it goes back into operating and living expenses, but...fair is fair. You put your ass on the risk with the rest of us, you get a fair cut of whatever windfall." He rubs at his jeans leg again, blue eyes serious. He's admitting to felonies now, and if that's not a gesture of trust, well, it's a lost cause. "We scrub the money, and what gets handed back is clean. Where it goes after that? It's your call. Keep it, use it, or put it in the nearest church drop box and be done with it."

Oh jesus, that smile. It drops years off Dwayne's face and Josh has absolutely no control over the way his own smile stretches in return. It takes the lingering shame at his own association, however unknowing, with the business, to wipe the last remnant of a smile from his face as he ducks his head and focuses more intently on getting dinner ready. He can't help but glance up again as Dwayne gets up and comes closer, though, and he gives up and allows himself a moment--just a few seconds, no more--to admire the view as the big redhead leans casually in the door frame. Yep, just as impressive in sweats and a t-shirt as in a business suit, just in a different way.

"I am sure," he assures Dwayne, quiet but firmly resolute. This might not be the kind of operation he'd been signed on with, but that was more for lack of opportunity than interest and he wants, more than anything, to be where he can do the most good. From what he's seen and heard, he's pretty sure signing on with Dwayne's operation will be a step in the right direction there. "Start me with whatever grunt work you have and gimme a chance to prove I'm useful is all I ask. And, yeah-" He pauses for a moment, thinking. "I might know a couple people who'd be interested in doing more than, uh, trying to buy people back." Because it's noble, and it's better than nothing, but... only barely. There's only so much you can do one sale at a time, especially when you have to scramble like hell for the funds to back it up... and are enriching the sick fucks who think it's okay to own people in the first place.

He pauses mid-stir of the meat when Dwayne mentions profit and casts a quick, confused glance the older man's way. Profit... is not something he'd actually considered as potentially factoring into the deal at all, and it takes him a moment to work out just where profit might even be coming from. And that it basically amounts to 'ill-gotten gains'. It takes him barely longer to decide that he's just fine with that, given the likely source. "Uh... wasn't honestly expecting profit to be on the table," he admits. And he's actually been half-worried in the back of his mind over the fact he'll likely be getting back to find he's been fired from his most recent job after this little unanticipated absence. Hopefully not evicted, though. He's only a little behind on rent and he's got some cash squirreled away, he'd been figuring he could make it work. "But if that's how it works I won't say no if you figure I've pulled my weight and earned something," he adds as he dumps the sauce over the meat and then slides the pasta into the boiling water.

Dwayne nods. "Most of the people in the trade are elbow-deep in other things. Drugs, weapons, smuggling. Rivers of bad money. I don't know that any of us would feel right living high on what we take-" At least the people he works with the most, the ones who have an actual moral compass- "but when that money can buy better equipment, and gives us more time to focus on saving lives, I think we sleep okay with that."

He won't deny there's mercenaries out there that will take the check no matter where it comes from, but skimming from the bad guys means people get relocated safely, medical bills get paid, things they need like safehouses get bought without having to deal with a day job.

Less lies to juggle and fewer people at risk, for the handful of them at the core of the organization, and for the people just passing through, like Josh, it's a little bit of a hand up while they figure out just how serious they want to be about this.

Dwayne shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck, just a little wearily. It's amazing how big the whole thing has gotten, at times, and how he somehow managed to get in the middle of it. It still feels surreal to be the one in charge, especially on days like this when he lays it all out. It's not something he regrets, though...just has a hard time figuring out how it happened. He gives Josh a tired smile. "We don't count on it every time, but it happens often enough to be worth mentioning. But, the other side of it is, no freelancing, no helping yourself to the cookie jar, no side trips. You follow the rules, you get a share, but if you go cowboy, it puts everyone else at risk and we can't allow that."

He says it easily, though. Because he doesn't really expect Josh to be that type, not from what he's seen and said, but he has to say it anyway. All the rules up front.

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tinkermoose - 2015-08-27 05:58 (UTC) - Expand

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Negotiations With Teeth

Loop!

de doop

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Crap. I was sure I'd posted this...

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

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