A conman’s kiss part 3
A conman’s kiss part 3
“This is what they’re giving me?” Whizzer raised his eyebrow as Marvin handed him a shirt and a pair of slacks.
“Hey!” Marvin started, a hurt look on his face, “the shirt’s mine.” In truth, he made sure to give Whizzer one of his shirts rather than the one the prison provides. It was not the right size. Too tight, gave Marvin something he could stare at. Same with the slacks. Too tight, gave him something to stare at.
He watched whizzer take off his shirt, and almost started to drool as he saw his abs, defined and lean. “What is this?” Whizzer complained as he checked the shirt label, “wash and wear!?” He looked up at Marvin, ”were you watching me puppy?” He smirked.
“What! No.” Marvin exclaimed,” Agent Feldman.”
“Okay, Agent Feldman-“ he put on the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he pulled down the orange pants, stepping into the black suit trousers, “now that we’re… partners… what can I call you?”
“We are not ‘partners’-“ Marvin replied irritated, “you are my criminal informant. Keep it to Agent Feldman.”
“How about Marvin?” Whizzer purred as he buttoned up his shirt, maintaining eye contact with him.
“No. Not happening.”
“Marvin.” Whizzer teased.
Marvin turned and walked out of the prison, and Whizzer followed him, feeling the anticipation of fresh air that wasn’t guarded by tall electric fences capable of killing him. He eagerly stepped closer and closer to the entrance, a bright smile on his face and suddenly Marvin turned around and Whizzer stopped, almost walking into him.
“Leg.” Marvin said, loudly.
“What?”
Marvin pulled out a tracking anklet from his pocket, “leg.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, kicking his leg up into the air and landing it gently on Marvin’s shoulder. “What the fuck, how are you this flexible and this extra!”
“Used to be a dancer, I like to keep limber, makes sex fun.” He winked as Marvin clasped the anklet around his ankle.
“Have you been having much sex in here?” Marvin asked curiously, he didn’t know how much of a gay population there was in jail other than the obvious ‘dropping the soap’ jokes.
“Haven’t had sex 3 years. Didn’t want to be a bitch.”
“A bitch?”
“Well I like a dick in my ass, people take that as weakness even though it hurts like a motherfucker.”
“Oh.” Marvin blushed, pushing Whizzers leg off of him and turning around to avoid his stare. He quickly walked out and finally whizzer felt his freedom wash over him like a wave. Happy, content except for the pressure holding his ankle in place and the scratchy, tight shirt.
“So Marvin, where are we going!”
“Agent Feldman. We’re going to your lodgings.”
“Why do you sometimes speak like an eighteenth century English man?”
Marvin didn’t reply, stalking to his car and getting in, “get in.”
“Oh Marv, you had the perfect chance to quote mean girls-“ Whizzer sighed as he followed “- yet you chose not to.”
Whizzer spent most of the drive with his head out of the window like a dog, and they finally pulled up outside one of the ugliest buildings he had ever seen.
“This is the centre of your radius.” Marvin began, strutting inside as he smiled at how horrible it was. He quickly stood by the front desk, hitting the bell as Whizzer stared at the motel. Black mould creeping up the vomit coloured walls, narrow corridors with flickering lights, people standing in doorways, their eyeliner smudged down their face, dead eyed, staring at him as though he was another slab of meat. Finally a burly man entered from behind a bead curtain. “Hi, I’m Marvin Feldman, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’ve got a room booked.”
The man stood emotionless, then turned, taking a set of keys off of a hook, handing them over to Marvin. He looked down at the tiny shred of tree trunk that had the number 14 written on it, and set off down the hallway, whizzer trailing very quickly behind as he received whistles and Catcalls. Marvin quickly stopped to unlock his door and Whizzer whispered urgently in his ear.
“Um Agent Feldman, I don’t think I can stay here.”
“Look-“ Marvin looked up, leaving the key in the lock, “- it costs $300 a month to house you in a federal jail, so it costs $300 out here. If you find somewhere nicer within that price range and your 1 mile radius, then you can happily stay there!”
“I have a one mile radius?”
“Get in there.” Marvin whisper shouted, pushing Whizzer inside as he heard a mans voice yell out “fags” down the hall. He pursed his lips as he followed Whizzer into the room.
“Jesus Christ!” Whizzer exclaimed as he saw the room. One smaller that single bed which had a bony hairless cat or dog, he wasn’t sure which, curled up in the centre, “does that thing live here?” He asked as he stared at the windowless, dingy, dusty room, coughing slightly as he sat on the bed, dust flying up everywhere. “Yeah, this is not good, maybe I should’ve stayed in prison.”
Marvin rolled his eyes at how dramatic Whizzer was being, fumbling through his pockets and taking out a $50 note. “Here. This is for clothes.”
“I’m sorry, but how am I meant to buy anything with this?”
“Hey, this is my own money, I took pity on you when the people in the big house said no, go thrifting, there’s a thrift shop a block away.It’s in style at the moment. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 7 to take you to the office.”
“Bye marv.”
Marvin pursed his lips but didn’t correct him “Goodbye Whizzer.”
Whizzer sat on the bed for a moment, thinking as he stared at the cat, disassociating. He was broken from the trance by an explosion of anger the room next to him, the paper thin walls letting him hear everything as a couple fought. Suddenly the screams of anger turned into moaning and he decided that was enough for him, getting up and quickly leaving the room, locking the door behind him as he blocked out the harassment that followed.
When the sun hit Whizzers face he suddenly felt as though he was meant to be there, it didn’t matter if he was shackled, he was able to do what he wanted without fear of being murdered in his cell. He followed where Marvin had told him, and came across a dusty old vintage shop, scoffing, “trust that klutz to call this a thrift shop.” He quickly went in, smelling the musty, wood smell that clung to antique furniture, and gazed at the suits, trying to keep himself away, but quickly giving in, running his fingers over the expensive fabrics, each one costing at least double the amount he had. He sighed as he fiddled with them, and heard the tingle of a visitor, listening in to the conversation ever so slightly.
“Hello there, I have some things I’d like to donate.” She spoke quietly to the lady at the counter
Whizzer sidled towards her, gasping as he picked up a hat. “ is this a Borsalino?” He exclaimed as he picked it up.
“Yes, belonged to my Dad, he passed on recently.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He felt the suits she had dropped onto the counter, “wow, these are gorgeous.”
“You can have them if you want, you need them more than I do.”
“That is so kind of you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Charlotte.” She put out her hand for a handshake and he gently took it, kissing the top of it, causing her to blush.
“Whizzer Brown.” He said smoothly, “may I say, you are a classy lady with excellent taste.”
Her blush deepened, “thank you. I’m actually a doctor, I just never have time to go out after my shifts, and my apartment gets quite lonely.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m blabbering.”
A catlike smile spread over Whizzers face as he thought of a plan in his head. “No please, continue.”
-
Marvin had a headache. It was seven Am, he had been up half the night with Jason crying and he was not in a good mood. He parked up his car and went inside the motel, going to the empty front desk, ringing the bell. After no one came, he impatiently began to ring the bell again, over and over and over until finally the curtain parted and the same burly man from the night before entered.
“Hi, I’m here to pick up the man I dropped off yesterday.” He was met by a blank face, “the man in room 14.” Still blank, “tall, about 6”2, lean, dancers legs, perfect hair, attractive, brown eyes…” the man handed him a note and Marvin stared at him. “Um thank you I guess?”
He unfolded the piece of paper, reading the note.
‘I did what you said. Here’s my new address.’
His eyes opened wide as he recognised the address, “that sneaky son of a bitch.”
-
The butler, or as he preferred to be known, the house manager, showed Marvin up to the roof of the large house, and Marvin gasped at the view of the whole city.
“Marvin.”
“How the fuck did you manage this?” He asked, spinning around to see Whizzer sitting on patio furniture, expensive suit, expensive hat, expensive sunglasses, expensive coffee and homemade breakfast, holding a newspaper.
“I did what you said, I went to the vintage shop.”
“I said thrift shop”
“Well, I went the wrong way, and bumped into-“
“Marvin! How wonderful to see you!”
Marvin sighed, turning around to see Charlotte, “Dr Charlotte, how lovely to see you again. I see you’ve met my Criminal informant.” He said, stressing the word Criminal, “oh, did he not tell you he was a criminal?” He feigned innocence, “Because you know he’s legally required too.”
“Actually he did, And I don’t mind, my father ran in those circles.”
Marvin clenched his jaw. “Where is your wife?”
“Cordelia?”
“Plot twist!” Whizzer said from his seat, staring over the top of his sunglasses.
“Well, she’s was out late working a case, but this is my house, so I will not let her kick Whizzer out.”
“Thank you Charlotte, Marvin, I think we should head to work.” Whizzer interrupted, folding his newspaper and draining the last of his coffee.
“Ooh, you little fucker.” Marvin exclaimed as Whizzer got up to sidle past him, Marvin grabbing his wrists. “Charlotte, will you give us a second?”
“Of course Marvin.”
Marvin’s grip on Whizzer’s wrists was tight, so tight that he had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself moaning. He was horny, extremely horny. “Look Whizzer, I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to get back in line.”
“Sorry Marv, are you jealous?” He asked, hoping to make him angry,
“Agent Goddamn Feldman to you.” The grip on Whizzers wrists tightened, “you know perfectly well that I am, I uphold the law and you break it, get out of prison and still end up being in a nicer house, with nicer clothes, and nicer coffee.”
Whizzer wriggled his wrists out of Marvin’s grip, turning the tables as he held Marvin’s wrists, pressing down with much more force, voice low, sexy and dangerous “Marvin, do not test me.” He pulled him closer, Marvin trying to escape his grip, “because I will do something that ruins your life.” Suddenly he let go of Marvin’s wrists, voice returning to its normal bubbly nature, “come on Agent Feldman, we’ve got a job to do.” Leaving Marvin stunned, and hard.