The Brothel

♡ Simplicity

Pete was a simple boy who liked simple things. He's always wanted to live an easy life, it currently wasn't exactly easy but at least it was carefree. He didn't have to worry about specific skills, he didn't have to worry about school, and he definitely didn't have to worry about his feelings. He was good at hiding his emotions, most of the time he didn't feel anything anyway, and that's probably what made his life so... simple. And he liked it that way. Pete would accept money from strangers in exchange for sexual favors and all he had to do was pretend that he enjoyed it. Why? Because meaningless sex is simple, money is simple. Attachments and emotions are not.

The brothel Pete worked in was always crawling with horny, desperate, and lonely souls searching for a moment of numbness and hoping to clear their heads. Or just get their fill of some kind of fantasy they had/heard about prostitutes. Although operating a whorehouse is frowned upon and also very illegal, they all had the cops on their side by paying them off either with sex or a portion of their profits. Most of them go for the former.

Except for one, a certain officer by the name of Patrick Stump. Though many of the workers had offered him the night of his life, he'd always decline in the nicest of ways for both the sex and the money. It just wasn't something he wanted to take part in, but he also didn't report anything so there was no need to worry. Every time the cops would come in for their monthly free for all, Officer Stump would just sit in the main room and read one of the few magazines scattered across the coffee table. And sometimes he'd even have a conversation with Pete.

Pete was very fond of the young officer and he had no idea why. He just made his whole simplicity rule very, very complicated. Pete has yet to have him, well Patrick hasn't gone for anyone in the house, but Pete had been wanting him for almost a year now. He made him feel things he never normally felt and all those emotions that he likes to pretend he doesn't have start to rush back to him. He gets butterflies in his stomach, sweat on his palms, a skip in his heartbeat, and an ache between his legs every time Patrick so much as looks his way. Pete pretends that it's a simple case of lust, actually hopes that it's just that. But he knows there's something more to it. He didn't just want Patrick, he craved Patrick. Wanted to be a part of his everyday life, wanted to show him his true self, wanted to show him everything he felt. But it goes against his rules for simple living because Patrick just isn't simple.

Pete had a client tonight, nothing spectacular --or ever spectacular--, just a standard fuck and a quick payout. Flash a little bit of skin and some eyelash batting and they're putty in his hands for the next forty-five minutes to an hour. He gives them an overused smile as they leave thinking that they've made him cum just because of the practiced sounds he made. All faked for the other's benefit. Pete hasn't felt real pleasure in a long time and has grown used to people using him for his body. There wasn't a need to complain about it really because, hey, at least he was getting paid for it.

After his client has their back turned the forced smile on his face was immediately replaced with his usual bored expression. He leans against the doorframe as he counts the money in his hand, dollar by dollar and bill by bill. He's made a decent amount of wages this week, probably has enough saved up for a new stereo unless Madam decides to make him go shopping for food again. He takes all of his added earnings and retreats into his room to stuff it into a drawer in his nightstand.

Someone knocks on Pete's open door, not wanting to just step inside in case they thought they'd be intruding. Pete knew that it had to be his favorite officer, considering everyone else in the house just barges in whenever they feel like it. Leave it to Patrick to be the only person with manners in a place like this.

Patrick gives Pete a smile in greeting as he sways over to the man in uniform, smiling back at him with an actual genuine smile. He doesn't need to flash any skin or bat his dark lashes at Patrick --Pete doesn't think he'd fall for it anyway-- because he just couldn't fake anything around him. He couldn't hide himself whenever Patrick was in his presence and it worried him. He felt something and whatever it was, it's putting him in a bind.

"Well hello, officer. What can I do for you today?" Pete asks, inviting Patrick into the room and seating them on the freshly cleaned bed. He crosses his legs one over the other, prepared for whatever Patrick had to say.

"Nothing, just my coworkers are all... uh, preoccupied and I thought I'd come talk to you. If you're not busy or anything."

"I've always got time for you, sweetheart." Pete promises with a gentle hand to the other's shoulder. Patrick leans into the touch and smiles softly, completely unaware of how much his smile drives Pete absolutely insane.

They talk until Patrick's colleagues are ready to return to the station to actually somewhat do their job. Officer Urie pops into Pete's room and finds him chatting it up with Patrick, knowing he didn't really like to indulge. But Urie was a married man and still enjoyed the company of his favorite whore every month, sometimes more often than that.

He's buttoning up the shirt of his uniform when he tells Patrick that they're all about to head back to work. And though Patrick wanted to stay and talk with Pete some more, he knew he had to get going before his urges got the best of him. He liked Pete more than he'd like to admit to, but he knew there was a good chance that Pete wouldn't like him back anyway. He's pretty sure a profession such as this had a rule against getting too close or attached to anyone. It's probably for the best. He says goodbye to Pete's pretty face before following behind his colleague.

"See you next time." Pete says with a wink as Patrick blushes fiercely and leaves the room.