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No-Man’s Mall
When Felinus said he had other errands to run, Issac thought he had meant for himself. He didn’t like the idea of being dragged along on the mobster’s business, but it was better than the alternative. He had (thought? Hoped? Not prayed. He didn’t pray- maybe wished? Wished worked) wished, whatever Felinus needed to do, it was something that Issac could just sit in the car and pretend he wasn’t there.
There was a reason he didn’t pray, but apparently wishing was still too much for an uncaring universe to answer as the sports car pulled into the mall that Issac knew was in the heart of no man’s land, one of the few places where all three bordered and none of the major underground powers had business or influence, technically speaking. Some hearing that might think that people like Issac, who avoided anything related to the powers inside the Rings, would go to this particular mall regularly. They’d be wrong. The place practically crawled with men from all three powers, watching each other, taking advantage of the businesses of the other cultures that occupied the space evenly, without having to step into unfriendly territory. Back in his undergrad years, Issac recalled classmates singing the praises of the diversity found under one roof in No-Man’s Mall. For Issac, it always felt like having a target painted on his back, even back when his clothes actually fit and his shoes didn’t have holes in them.
Felinus had to know. The man was a Capo and to be as young as he was, an impressive one. Men like him didn’t survive if they didn’t know when they were being shadowed. But he didn’t give anything away as he kept an arm around Issac’s shoulder and led him into a clothing store far too dark and lacking price tags for Issac to be comfortable in.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when the clerk went from wrinkling his nose at Issac to practically licking Felinus’s shoes. The man readily agreed to Felinus’s instructions to find Issac clothes. Issac would have been impressed how the bastard seemed to give the task his all while still completely ignoring Issac if he wasn’t effectively turned into a doll in the process.
The mobster seemed to be enjoying himself as he sat on a low couch on the edge of a platform surrounded by mirrors. Issac was dragged out in different outfits the clerk deemed acceptable only to be dragged back again once Felinus gave his approval or shook his head.
“You’ve already seen the back of these,” he finally snapped when Felinus told him to turn around for what felt like the hundredth time. He couldn’t take another second of this… attention. “These are the same pants as before, he just stuck me in a different shirt this time. I’m done! This little fashion show is a waste of my time and your money.”
Felinus’s expression didn’t change as he unfolded his long legs, but Issac suddenly had a better understanding of his nickname as he stalked forward. He didn’t say anything as he closed in on Issac, taking hold of his wrist and turning him back around to face the mirrors. “You still aren’t looking at the big picture, baby boy,” he whispered into Issac’s ear, holding one hand up and wrapping the other around Issac’s waist. “You are focusing on keeping your head down and making yourself a nobody. I’m dressing the man who is going to have the entire world in the palm of his hands as soon as he decides to reach out and take it.”
Issac stared at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look like himself, though if he was honest, he hadn’t looked like himself for a long time. He wasn’t even sure what Issac Maus should look like anymore. At that moment, though, he looked like Felinus’s boy toy, particularly since the shirt with the tiny cat heads that looked like dots from this distance was doing nothing to hide the dark marks all over his neck. That might have been closer to reality than he wanted to admit. “I don’t want the world,” he grumbled, trying to ignore how good Felinus felt pressed against his back. “I was fine with being ignored.”
“How short-sighted, baby boy,” Felinus whispered, his teeth grazing Issac’s ear, his hand sliding lower. “Besides, we have a deal. You do what I say until New Year’s, and I say you are getting a makeover to reflect the man you will be.”
Issac shivered. This man was dangerous. He had already known that, but this wasn’t about his mafia affiliations. The danger was how Issac just wanted to sink into his arms, to turn off his brain and let the man have his way. That a single man could undo every defense Issac had built up over the last fifteen years was something Issac had never considered possible.
“Good boy,” he whispered as Issac unwittingly relaxed into Felinus’s chest and kissed Issac’s jaw gently. “No more fussing. We have other errands to run still.” He didn’t let Issac go but let him have his arm back as he gestured to the clerk doing a very good impression of not watching the show. “We’ll take everything.”
Issac glanced at the clerk, and the spark in the man’s eye made Issac think the guy must work on commission or was just really dedicated to the store’s sales. “Of course,” he said, clapping his hands together once. “Would you like this outfit to be worn out?”
“Please, n-” Issac started, only for Felinus’s finger to press over his lips while the others wrapped around his jaw.
“Yes, with the leather jacket, too. Everything else can be boxed up.”
Issac groaned. Of course, this was the sort of place that boxed up purchases instead of haphazardly tossing them into plastic bags. He thought about biting the finger still pressed on his lips, but wasn’t sure he wanted to start something that would likely be finished in the dressing room, or a bathroom. Maybe an employee-only hallway.
As if it wasn’t clear already that Felinus had the pull and money to do what he wanted, they didn’t actually wait for the clerk to box everything up. The man traded the jacket he had stuck Issac in at the beginning for Felinus’s black credit card and by the time Issac got it on and the two stopped passive-aggressively fighting over how high he could have the zipper up, the clerk returned with the card and a slip of paper. Felinus took it with the simple statement that one of his men would pick things up and slipped his hand into Issac’s back pocket to press him out of the store and into the shoe store next door.
Issac tried to override Felinus’s instructions that he needed three different pairs of shoes as they measured his feet. He didn’t need any shoes and attempted to reason that one pair of sneakers was all anyone needed. Clearly, he was in the wrong company to win that argument, because even the high schooler looked at him like he had gone mad. When they left, Issac was wearing a new pair of sneakers with Felinus’s hand back in Issac’s pocket, and a pair of boots and loafers were boxed away to be picked up later.
* * *
Felinus was enjoying himself as he continued to shop for Issac. He had always liked looking good, his taste in clothes always leaning more towards the modern updates of what he thought classic gangsters would have worn long before he had become one. But he liked dressing other people up more. He did it for all of his high-ranking soldiers when they earned promotions or got the nerve up to ask for it, and dragged his lieutenants to update their wardrobes at least once a year. Snake had been the hardest to coax out of his band-Ts and torn jeans into anything remotely classy until they discovered “corporate goth,” which he only wore on special occasions when he actually left his screens. Tiger had only gotten to a place where he was comfortable with the idea of being shopped for last year after years of having his clothes picked for him by truly awful people. Felinus’s brother and Bat only ever agreed if Felinus promised it would take an hour or less.
But Issac was a different sort of challenge. The objections Issac made seemed to have more to do with being the center of attention and less about the items bought. This theory was made stronger by the fact that Issac didn’t say a word of protest when Felinus stopped at his preferred jeweler and the first watch -a simple silver analog with a blue leather strap that would be perfect for Snake to put a tracker in later- was the one he decided to buy. He did glare at Felinus when he told the jeweler to simply toss out the blue digital watch with its Velcro band that had long ago lost its ability to stick all the way. Felinus had to remind himself of their current situation before he dragged Issac into a more private location to continue what Felinus would have finished in the clothing store if not for so many eyes on them.
A haircut was next and that bit did get Issac mouthy about, first, not needing a haircut, then insisting that if they were going to cut it to just shave it down.
“Baby boy, I’ve seen what you look like with a two all over,” Felinus said, pulling Issac in front of him to look at the magazine of hairstyles a stylist had produced. “It’s not a good look on you.” They ended up settling on a style that would keep the length to tie back into various types of ponytails and buns that the stylist patiently demonstrated when Issac insisted he had no time to style his hair into the curls hair products gave him.
Felinus bought Issac a good leather belt and wallet next with no arguments, but a bit of blushing that made Felinus very curious about what his surly investment thought they could do with the length. He also noticed Issac didn’t save the condom as he moved the dollar and cards into the new wallet, pointedly gesturing for his school ID. Felinus handed it over, but not before he stole a little bite on the back of Issac’s newly exposed neck.
The phone store posed a different problem when Felinus told the young woman behind the counter he needed the location tracker to be turned on for the new line. He had to give her credit. She was trying to be subtle about getting Issac away from him out of a similar concern that the clinic staff had. Felinus knew he looked dangerous and by outward appearances, Issac appeared helpless. It was annoying, but he couldn’t blame them.
“I keep losing my phones,” Issac told her after a few more attempts to put distance between them to look at some other models without moving from the place on the counter he was leaning on. “And my credit is so bad no one will buy my soul in exchange for a decent phone and plan.” He nodded towards Felinus. “He’s helping me out. The tracker is for when I leave it somewhere and forget where I had it last, not for finding me.”
“Oh, oh,” the woman said, blushing as she glanced between them. “I see. That is a good use of the feature. I’ll be right back!”
Felinus put his hands on either side of Issac as she disappeared into the back, leaning in as he inhaled the smell of hair spray and leather that wafted off of him. “Are you always this good at lying, baby boy,” he whispered into his ear, feeling Issac shiver.
“That is for me to know,” Issac said, pausing as he stifled a yawn, “and you to figure out.”
And figure out I shall,Felinus thought, nuzzling Issac’s neck. He was pushing limits, both his own and Issac’s in more ways than one, but everything was going just as he needed it to.
