Mr & Mr Hitman

A Couple of Killers

"I will quit," Cameron warned, his ignited hazel eyes mirroring the visible embarrassment on his face, despite being hidden behind his black metallic mask. He contemplated himself in front of a body mirror, checking out his outfit for the night. So far, the black cargo pants hanging just below his waist with matching combat boots were just perfect, however, the almost transparent pink sheer long-sleeve shirt was way too revealing for his comfort, and the chilly weather didn't help him much either, "You can see my nipples through this."

"If you leave, neither of us gets paid so I suggest you hang in there," Samuel, more comfortable about his appearance squeezed his lover's shoulders, planting a kiss at the back of his head, looking at him through the mirror, while he smiled ever so gently, "Let's go?"

Sighing with a slight chuckle, Cameron nodded, turning around to face his lover. His greenish gleam sparked into the fiery soils that were Samuel's orbs, his pupils shuffling to take in the entity of his mask, thinking about how his favouriteface was hidden behind it. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a high-pitched, tired voice.

"James, Jessie, your shifts are starting soon," on the other side of the door, a woman spoke.

"We're coming," Samuel responded, raising his head to elevate his tone.

Seizing this opportunity that was Samuel facing the door, Cameron stood on his toes to plant a quick peck on his lips before walking towards the exit.

"James", shook his head sheepishly,  following "Jessie" out, finding themselves in a dark corridor with the faintest neon lights, their steps echoing to interrupt the background suppressed music of the club.

They walked in unison like a dynamic duo, hearing the music get louder and louder as the heat of crowd, pleasure and sin seem to dominate the atmosphere. It was almost nauseous to breathe this concoction of weed, tobacco, booze and sweat, but tonight, they had a mission. And their nostrils were worth sacrificing.

Standing behind the door that led to their battleground,  they shared a quick glance, pushing the inox door to enter a sanctuary of everything unholy. The corners of the rooms were occupied by private dance sessions while the middle was the center of attention; strip poles adorned with the grace and sensuality of confident women.

It was relatively dark, but the silvery, metallic clothes of the strippers shined perfectly with their golden skins and colourful neons.

And thank to that, the victim was spotted.

Like telepathy, our characters shared a contented glance before both of them seized trays of booze and cocktails and started with their plan.

Miss Carmelita Gordon - currently brainwashing an old guy into spending on her.  Her brown curls acted like a mane and the red of her lipstick darkened her composure making her look more intimidating, yet, her pink, push up bra with matching panties that were not hidden by her black mini skirt made her look more immature and young than she was; and for old geezers with nothing but money and business in their hands, that meant she was dumb too.

But that was far from that, for Carmelita was a manipulator. A cheeky one at that.

That is what makes this mission a tricky one.

"Well, that was easier than I thought, " Cameron zipped up his jacket and sat in the passenger seat of Brian's Ferrari F430 while Samuel occupied the driver's, an unconscious Carmelita laying in the back seat.

"Thanks to my looks," Samuel whistled, buckling his seat belt and taking off his heavy mask before starting the engine, grinning when he heard the roar of such a majestic uniqueness.

Cameron could not disagree, since it was true.

"Don't a pretty lady like you want to have fun with man like me?", as the author I don't even know why Samuel talked like that when he approached Carmelita.

But just like that the prey was captured, "Sure handsome," she certainly did not deduce that instead of being met with the delicacy of horny lips, her face would straight up involuntarily dive into a cloth of concentrated chloroform.

And that was it, so much anticipation for such an easy task.

The drive to the abandoned warehouse that the client pinned would be two hours long, and both men would appreciate this journey into the unknown since the early morning crisp air was a sort of freshness that suit their vibes.

Cameron watched the moon follow them, the silence of the streets complimenting the quiet tunes that Samuel played, "It's convenient police didn't bother patrolling this area of town."

"True," Samuel nodded, breaking an energy bar in half, "They neglect this perimeter because of its high crime rate."

"You would think they'd do the exact opposite," Cameron sighed, "Especially now."

"Everyone's corrupt," Samuel shook his head, chewing leisurely, "Makes business easier for us too."

"And what actually do you do?", a woman's voice inquired from the back; throat having lived some damage because of her grogginess.

It's past two hours since the kidnap, and the drug had worn off.