Better Than
a Sale
By Chris Owen
[So, there's this scavenger hunt.... ]
Outside it was beginning to get dark, Halloween
night settling in. Marco was enjoying the company, and he wasn't
terribly eager to get back to work. He knew that he would be
there half the night, but that was the same as any other Halloween
night.
"So, all that's left is the pictures?" he asked.
Saul nodded, looking at the floor which was such a reversal
from the way that he usually acted that Marco was intrigued.
From where he was standing, it even looks like Saul was blushing.
"Just what kind of pictures are these?" Marco couldn't
help but grin. Saul's discomfort was probably funnier than it
should have been. Still, Marco was enjoying watching Saul walk
around without a shirt on, and if you keep that going for a
while, he would. "This is for work, it can't be that nasty."
"No, not nasty. Just..." Saul looked up at him, his
eyes wide. "I really, really want to win."
Marco laughed. "Yeah, I get that. But what I want to know
is what it has to do with me. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to
help out, within reason. So tell me, is this think you want
from me within reason?"
Saul looked at him and squared his shoulders. It looked like
he was bracing for battle, which wasn't an unpleasant view.
"Are you seeing anyone? Like, dating?"
Marco stared at him. "Um, no. I haven't been for a while.
Why?" He was almost afraid to ask -- but mostly because
Saul was looking like he'd bolt if he had to say too much, and
Marco was rapidly beginning to hope for more doing and less
talking.
The red rub marks on Saul's chest were being replaced by a flush
that was spreading, both up and down. Marco moved toward him,
backing them both out of the front part of the shop. They might
not get all the way to the back room, but the weren't going
to stand so close to the windows. "Tell me what you need
for these pictures," Marco said softly, when Saul seemed
more or less tongue tied.
"It's just a game," Saul said, licking his lower lip.
"One of the things for bonus points is dressing up as the
opposite gender -- which is a total point grab for the girls.
So, I need a skirt or a dress or something. Togas don't count;
I checked. Kilts don't, either."
"How disappointing." Marco was completely used to
this sort of thing, and even had a selection of larger skirts
in a back corner for frat boys who thought drag was funny. Actual
gender illusion technicians wouldn't dream of using his stock.
"I've got stuff that should do, though all of the good
stuff is gone." He eyed Saul up. "You're slim in the
hips, I might have something. School girl look or trampy whore?"
Saul spluttered at him for a moment looking shocked. "Um.
Whatever fits?" he finally said, apparently trying to be
casual. "But there's... Uh. More."
"More?" Marco raised an eyebrow at him before turning
to go hunt through the meager selection of skirts. "What
do you mean, 'more?'" He wasn't sure he could handle more.
Saul followed along behind, accepting the plaid, pleated skirt
and white blouse Marco handed him. "One of the items is
to kiss a handsome prince." The words came out in a rush,
barely above a whisper, but were immediately followed by, "Are
you shitting me? I'll look like... Good God."
Marco leered at him. "You'll look slutty and hot."
That was an understatement. "No, I'm not dating anyone.
Yes, I have knee socks to go with the skirt. And if you want
to claim me for a prince due to my last name, that's cool."
Also an understatement, but Saul didn't need to know just how
eager Marco could be. Yet. "I'll take the handsome part
as a compliment. Do you have blood pressure issues? You're really
red." |
