The Brothel

♡ Urges

Throughout the long days and even longer nights Pete would continue his job, but everyone could tell that he had a lot on his mind, even his clients. They'd either try to be 'understanding' and ask him about it or just get dressed in a huff and mutter something under their breath. Pete would give the former a 'fuck off' and the latter a 'fuck you'.

It was nothing new, just something that came with this line of work, among other things. But he and the others just had to deal with it and move on so they could get back to their not so glamorous lives and the clients back to their secretive ones. Not many people want to admit to fulfilling their sexual desires and needs by paying a prostitute. It wasn't something people were particularly proud to wear on a t-shirt for everyone to see, they didn't want a soul to know. So that leaves Pete to be a husband's mistress, a boyfriend's slut, everyone's dirty little secret.

He told all of this to Patrick during one of their monthly chats, unable to vent to anyone else that would actually listen to what he had to say. And Patrick would always respond with kind words and sweet smiles that sometimes kept Pete awake at night.

But there were also times when he wondered why someone like Patrick would ever be so nice to someone like Pete. To him, it just didn't make any sense, but the officer was nice to everyone he came across and the whores in the brothel were nice to him in return. They trusted him and hoped to keep Patrick around as long as he was able. In fact, he even agreed to watch the house during the busier nights. He'd sit in his cruiser hidden by a few conveniently placed bushes and other foliage, watching the door and listening out for any distress calls.

It was no secret that Pete had a thing for Patrick and vice versa, so Madam had given Pete the privilege of bringing the cop food, coffee, and sometimes tea while he sat reading through old magazines in his car. But this time Pete wasn't bringing anything but a message from the lady of the house, stating that Patrick could stay inside for the rest of the night since the temperature was dropping as time went on.

Soon the two are seated in Pete's room, talking about nothing in particular after Pete closes the door to block out the sounds of the working house. They sit beside each other on the edge of the bed, a comfortable silence between them until Pete decides to speak.

"Why do you insist on coming back here?" He asks before he kicks off his shoes and brings his legs up to sit cross legged. He sleepily rubs at his eyes, smearing the precise lines of his eyeliner into messy smudges of black. "You don't have to be here, you know."

"I know." Patrick nods, scratching at the back of his neck as he thought of an answer. "But my job can get pretty boring and... frustrating."

Pete tilts his head in question. "Frustrating?"

Patrick looks away for a moment because Pete's the reason his job frustrated him. He's an officer of the law but he isn't upholding any sort of law around here, and he wants a certain man with an illegal job. It's frustrating because he knows he shouldn't indulge in what his colleagues have, but he wants to give in to the many urges that he has to hold himself back from. Every one of them having to do with Pete.

"Yeah," Patrick finally provides, looking back into the other's curious eyes and clearing his throat. "Mostly, uh... because my job-- it's something I need rather than something I want."

"Oh." Pete seemed to understand the 'need' part. They all need to work, they all need money, they all need to eat, they're one in the same. Well, sort of. The only thing is that cops and criminals never go well together. It always comes crashing down somehow. "What do you want then?"

Patrick refrains himself from mentioning that all he wants is Pete, but was unable to think of a lie in replacement. He reaches a point where he just didn't know exactly what to say, he doesn't want to give away the truth but couldn't come up with a good lie either. And the gentle touch of Pete's hand across his cheek along with the way his amber eyes searched Patrick's conflicted ones definitely wasn't helping.

"You can tell me." Pete coos in a sweet voice while he softly swipes his thumb over Patrick's cheek. He makes it nearly impossible for Patrick to keep himself at bay from the forbidden wonders of Pete's skin, he wanted so badly to just touch him, to have him. And in a matter of seconds his willpower vanishes completely.

The next thing Pete feels is a soft, warm mouth against his and it catches him by surprise. It was honestly the very last thing he expected from the officer he'd been wanting for so long. And he knows he should stop him or push him away but, truth is, Pete hasn't kissed anyone since he started this job. It was a personal rule that he never broke until tonight, but it felt oh so good. Maybe the fact that it was Patrick kissing him made him feel like he had been missing out on something so simple yet so intimate. He loved it. Loved the sensation of the officer's lips so much that he melts into it wholeheartedly and kisses back without a second thought.

They're hungry for each other, craving skin, friction, wrapped up in warmth and want. It's intoxicating and inviting like liquor to an alcoholic, and neither of them would ever dream of letting something like that get away. The two are knotted together and impossible to separate, breathlessly wrapping their arms around one another in an attempt to get closer than they already were. But it regretfully ends with a soft bite to Patrick's bottom lip and a comforting squeeze to Pete's hips.

"I'm sorry." Patrick whispers, eyes still closed and resting his head against Pete's. "I just... I--"

Pete shushes him with a finger to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth while he ran his free hand through Patrick's hair. He smiles sadly at him and gets the feeling that Patrick may regret what he's done. Everyone always does.

"It's alright." Pete murmurs. "You shouldn't be here anyway. You should be out in the world loving someone and being happy, instead of wasting your time in a brothel with-"

"Pete, don't."

"With a whore. A lonely, tired, sad whore." Pete finishes much to Patrick's dismay. It's not like he didn't know what Pete was, he just didn't like the use of that particular word. He needed a way to get by, they both did, but Pete just took a different route. That doesn't mean he should be degraded for it.

"Look at me." Pete instructs and Patrick reluctantly does so, connecting their eyes once again. "People pay me for sex, sweetie. I'm not meant to be loved or cared about, I just get used and forgotten. So if you're not gonna use and forget about me, then... then you need to go." He searches Patrick's bright blue eyes for a moment, wishing the circumstances were different, but they weren't. Pete was still a prostitute and Patrick was still a cop, two different people from opposing worlds that are better off being separate.

Pete cups the other man's face in his hands, giving him one last peck on the lips. "Anyone would be lucky to have you." He looks away from Patrick and instead directs his gaze down toward his lap. The words he said were what he believed were the right thing to say, but he didn't want Patrick to be with anyone else. He wanted Patrick all to himself no matter how selfish it made him feel. But for Patrick's sake, a whore is not someone he should get involved with.

He doesn't give Patrick the chance to speak for himself and just directs him to the door. Patrick looks defeated and maybe a bit heartbroken but it's for the best, Pete knows it. And if Patrick knows what's good for him, he'll leave and never come back to this whorehouse under any circumstances.

In the end Pete's a little heartbroken, too.