The Dumpster

Garbage pt.2 (a little gay?)

There was a panicked knock on my door. I wiped away my tears and opened it. Why?
"Johnathan. Can you help me get rid of a body?" Mikael charged in. My senses immediately heightened and I slammed him against a wall and covered his mouth with my hand. I shut the door with a nudge from my foot and escorted him to the living room. I sat him down, gave him a drink, and went to lock and bolt the door.
"How did you find me dammit?" I demanded, sitting down.
"You were crying?" He blinked.
"Uh, yeah. I hit my foot on something," I lied.
He didn't buy it, but chose to ignore the tears. "I found you by asking Vanessa and doing some...favors."
"What did you do with Vanessa?" My voice cracked unceremoniously. Not that I CARED. I definitely didn't care what he did or who he did in his free time.
"Eh. It was nothing. She asked me to help her move her furniture around," he shrugged.

"Who is this guy?" I asked as we carried him to the drum of formaldehyde and fit him in.
"Just an old Senator from your country," he put the lid on the drum. "No big deal."
"Obviously a big deal," I replied.
"Well, possibly a big deal. But now he's dead," Mikael leaned against his car.
"So how did you kill him?" I asked.
Mikael stared at my lips, possibly trying to avoid eye contact, "Honestly, I helped him OD on prescription pain killers and sleep-aids."
"Brutal. I like it. Pretty sexy," I said.
"You'd rather die of auto erotic asphyxiation," he snorted.
"That also doesn't sound too bad," I tapped my pointer finger on my cheek. "Hey Mik..."
"How about no. I will not help you fulfill your sick fantasy," he frowned. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love to wring your neck for other reasons."
"Such as?" I grinned smugly.
"That stupid face of yours. And your damn Girl Scout cookie addiction. And you're an alcoholic," he replied.
"Okay, first of all, you drink more than I ever will. Secondly, YOUR face is stupid."