one, two, three

Indie rp blog for a seemingly nameless cleaner who is very young and concerningly wonderful at what he does. nsfw & selective. read the rules.

[bleachedhands-blog]

dovbleback:

     ❝ You never watched a maid work before, have you? ❞      He’s not known for making shit just vanish. Got no intention of letting anyone forget, especially if it means a bigger paycheck better reason to actually take the contract. Something to make it — fuck, I don’t know — interesting. When the selling line is, GET CREATIVE, it’s damn near certain he’ll take it. No matter the risk.      ❝ I need this place lookin’ like a goddamn show house. Floor to ceiling. Every last inch, except HIM. Anyone can pull that off, it’s you. ❞

The maid comment makes him actually laugh; they both know that most hired help does a shit fucking job at it. Especially in comparison to someone like him, someone who can feel grit by looking at it alone, someone who feels some numbers were cleaner than others. Asking him to do the house so over the top -- it was actually asking him to clean the whole place three times over. That makes whatever this is very important. Very personal. It has determination lighting up in eyes as he moves to get started. Jacket folded and left on a chair, eyes looking for where he is going to start first.               “I’ll get it done, but it might be a few hours and I may need to run out to                grab a few extra things, if that is alright.”

[dovbleback-blog]

"Admit it, you've missed me."

     ❝ Like a hole in the head. ❞     A blind man could spot that lie five miles off, but pride is what counts. Because the second he called the cleaner in for a job that isn’t even a job, all pride went out the window. The place is spotless. At least to JT. Who knew what the hell went through the kid’s head anymore? Point is, if it’s clean enough to sell, it’s clean enough to walk a cleaner through. At least the place isn’t his, this time. Yet.     ❝ Y’like the place or not? ❞

[bleachedhands-blog]

It is all obvious. The lie, the lack of job to actually do. It is just the two of them in some well-kept place that is a change in scene. The younger of the two moves from one place to the next, keen eye ready to catch anything that didn’t sit right. Fingers brush over a shelf but come up without dust or grime. Questions fill his head but he doesn’t ask any of them.          “It’s nice. A lot better than the places you and I usually hang out, for sure.” A small jest, but the smile is genuine. The meeting itself feels like a treat, like something special.          “Do you like it?”

[bleachedhands-blog]

"Nah, I don't want you touchin' the body. This one stays as is. Point is, I called you out here to clean everything but this fuck. Got a message to send."

    “What kind of message is that, exactly?”The more time he spent with this one in particular, the more strange the jobs became. A dead body usually meant money if he could make it disappear but if JT wanted to pay him for something even more simple, well...     “Maybe you should have hired a maid and threatened her instead.”

[reedus-padalecki-blog]

[bleachedhands-blog]

Norman Reedus circa 1997

[normgasmphantasm]

[poncho-clad]