babe, there's somethin' wretched about this

x

𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

𝘰𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯

-

The yellow overhanging light gave the unconscious man a five o'clock shadow. It formed a circle around him like God was choosing a new angel, presenting him like a wrapped gift.

The blue suit tightly clung to his arms, arguably the best part of Goldsworth (or so he's told, of course). The terribly expensive suit was immaculate. No wrinkles, not even a slight thread out of place. Everything tailored to fit the man in front of him. He wore a black shirt, two buttons unbuttoned showing off a nearly hairless tanned chest, enticing Tinsley. His suit made Tinsley slightly self-conscious in his sweat and coffee-stained shirt he slept in for the last month or so. He smoothed down the wrinkles and paced the shadows for the third time.

He had finally caught Ricky Goldsworth.

A small groan came from the man tied in the chair stopped Tinsley's pacing and he stared as Goldsworth straightened his body and flexed his hands. He didn't seem too pleased at his situation but didn't struggle; almost like he knew the night would end up this way. The detective stood there, frankly like an idiot, for a few seconds more.


"Tinsley? Is that you lurking in the shadows?" Goldsworth cooed out. The light almost made his cold eyes disappear as he stared straight into Tinsley's soul. It was like Tinsley was an open book and it was on Goldsworth's favorite chapter.


He licked his chapped lips self-consciously before stepping into the pool of light. Goldsworth hummed from the back of his throat a sign of appreciation. He was taller than the man evident by Goldsworth exposing his lovely neck to meet Tinsley's eyes.


"Mind untying me, Tinman? It's a bit too tight."


"Goldsworth," Tinsley cleared his throat. "I've finally caught you."


It was lame, yes but Tinsley is now face-to-face with a criminal he has been chasing after for a better half of his career and now he's here with his silky smooth voice and good hair. Tinsley mentally punched himself for not preparing a speech or something earlier.


"You could've just called, doll. No need for renting out this space," Goldsworth grinned devilishly. Tinsley pointedly looked away. There were in Tinsley's grandpa's old cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Used to be a woodworking shop but ever since he died, it's been abandoned.


Meaning perfectly empty for questioning suspects off the record.


Tinsley cleared his throat and produced a small notepad and pen from the table behind him. He clicked the pen and opened the notepad to the first page.


"I want you to confess your crimes. Starting by your first to your most recent," Tinsley carefully avoided Goldsworth's all-seeing gaze, "Once I've decided it is sufficient enough then you will be moved to the precinct and placed under custody-"


Goldsworth let out a large groan and threw his head back, exposing more of his neck. Tinsley sneaked a peek and licked his lips once more.


The criminal picked up his head and stared straight at Tinsley and pouted like a five-year-old child, "Of course you'd want to know that, pretty boy. Here I am, thinking you just wanted to get to know me."


Tinsley blinked rapidly, "Like.. like a date?" He sputtered out uncertainty, his eyes probably bulging out of their sockets. He purposefully avoided thinking about the nickname Goldsworth just gave him. If he gave it any thought, his mind would surely explode from the stress.


Goldsworth leaned forward in his seat and nodded with all the confidence in the world. "Like a date, sure Tinman." He then flashed a downright dazzling smile and leaned back in his chair.


He has no right to have a smile like that.


Tinsley closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and forcefully breathing out before slowly starting, "Goldsworth-"


"We're all friends here, C.C. You can call me Ricky," He smiled that award-winning smile that made Tinsley's knees wobble just the slightest.


"Ricky," Tinsley said plainly, testing it how it felt on his tongue and hating how good it rolled off, "We are not friends. You are a criminal and I'm the one who catches scum like you."


Tinsley pretended not to notice the slight flinch.


"So please. If you will, state your first crimes so we can wrap this up."


Goldsworth clenched his jaw. Tinsley can physically see him gaining back some control before opening his mouth to speak again.


"If only you promise to keep calling me Ricky," Goldsworth keeps his eye trained on Tinsley and Tinsley shifts his weight.


God, he has Idaho's most wanted killer right here in his mitts and he's making deals with him instead of hauling his ass to jail. An image of Goldsworth in cuffs flashes through his mind and he immediately shoves it into a door and throws away the key.


"Fine," He tightened his grip on the pen. Goldsworth's face lights up slightly and he flexes his hand again.


"Good! Now... where do I begin..." Goldsworth feigns a thinking expression. "Honestly can't tell ya, Tinman, it's been so long. At least 21 years."


Tinsley sighed and leaned back onto a table. "Start with what you can remember,"


Goldsworth nodded slowly. "Well," He starts like he's trying to remember something before focusing his gaze back on the detective. "Has anybody told you that you've got amazing eyes, pretty boy?"


Tinsley blinked again and stared dumbfounded at him. His mind worked overtime choosing to replay the compliment again and again in his head so much that he could mumble it in his sleep. By the time he zoned back in, Goldsworth was not in his chair but leaning on it, staring and smiling smugly.


"Oh and that surprise look on your face," Goldsworth purred, "Utterly delicious. I could just... eat you up."


The darkening look in his eyes made Tinsley's stomach crawl with nerves, fear, and a emotion he rather not label. Tinsley scrambled from the relaxed posture he was sporting and held his notepad up in front of him like a shield. His eye caught his holster and badge on the table in his peripheral vision. He mentally cursed himself.


Goldsworth smiled like a Cheshire Cat and slowly walked a little closer.


"It isn't my first time tied up in a chair, angel," He said, almost affectionately. "Glad we had this date, Tinsley. I've been looking forward to it for a long time." He nodded to further his point.


"Yes... A long time."


Tinsley watched as Goldsworth walked closer, stalking him like a lion would his prey. The light shone behind him like a halo. His hair poked out like horns on top his head but Tinsley could've sworn the light gave him wings.


He dropped his arms, opting to clutch the table behind him as if he needed a grip onto reality.


"So have I, Goldsworth."


Goldsworth tilted his head as he stalked closer, stopping right in front of Tinsley, so close he could smell his minty toothpaste and his musky cologne seemingly surrounded Tinsley and got him drunk on the scent.


Goldsworth's voice dropped a whisper as he gazed up into Tinsley's eyes. "So here we are,"


He was so close. His lips were so close. They were practically sharing air. His eyes flicked down to his full lips and unconsciously licked his own. If he just slouched down or Goldsworth were to stand on the tips of his toes and angle themselves, he could kiss him. Tinsley held his breath and slowly pulled in his shoulders, his fingertips ghosting Goldsworth's biceps...


Then he was touching nothing. Tinsley jolted back as Goldsworth became a blur and suddenly appeared at Tinsley's gun and badge, near the exit. He was obviously affected by their closeness as he had pink dusted over his cheeks and the tip of his ears and he was breathing heavier than usual.


Goldsworth slid his professional mask into place and saluted as a goodbye.


"See ya soon, C.C. Tinsley."


And with that, he darted out of the door and with that, he left Tinsley alone, breathing heavy and with a sense of longing.