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bandom ficlet: best little whorehouse in arizona
Here, have a Bandom ficlet, courtesy of the AU Meme I just posted:
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molokomolotov asked for a Brothel AU with Bob as the Madame, and my brain immediately went to the Wild, Wild West.
the best little whorehouse in arizona
Bob/Frank, Gerard/Ray, Mikey/Pete, Patrick/Pete
~1,700 words, PG-13, and totally chatfic
In which Bob owns the place, Pete is a rich kid from the big city, and Ray is what passes for the law in town.
I'm thinking Old West, here. Like, something straight out of Tombstone. Chaps, spurs, big hats, and horses parked out front.
Bob owns the place; he won it in a crooked card game from a weathered old cowpoke with a bad limp and a sour smile. Bob had two Aces up his sleeve that night, as well as the King and Queen of spades, and he doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty. He's earning more money now than he ever did as a wrangler, and the guy he cheated had been too busy panning for gold to look after the place properly.
It's a tired-looking two storey a respectable distance from both the church and the General Store, and it's off the main road a piece, down a packed-dirt alley Bob tries to keep free of clutter and trash. The front door sticks a little and the upstairs balcony sags over the porch a lot, but he puts a fresh coat of whitewash on the exterior walls every summer, and he keeps the furniture nice and neat. The windowboxes are full of tiny, snow-white daisies, and he does more business than any other brothel in town. His girls know what they're about, and so do his boys. That does cause some muttering in town -- that he employs boys as well as girls -- particularly from the minister's wife, but Bob's always believed that a person's business is their own. His girls don't gossip and his boys don't ask questions, and Bob just smiles and nods when the minister slips out of Gabe's room and heads for home out the brothel's back door.
His turnover his high -- higher than Madame Vicky's or Lady Greta's -- but that's only because Bob knows people are never born for this business, they mostly fall into it for one reason or another, so he's quick to give his girls and boys a nudge if he thinks they'd be better suited for another line of work. He sent Brendon to the saloon when he learned Brendon could sing and play the piano, and he put a word in for Ryan with the local seamstress when he discovered Ryan had an eye for fabrics. Spencer helps Bob with the books more than he works the floor these days, but that's ok. Bob's never really had a head for numbers, and Spencer brought in a friend of his named Jon who knows how to mix drinks. Once Jon was around to keep an eye on the bar, it gave Patrick more time to play the piano in the parlor, and now they almost, almost make as much money on people wanting booze and music and conversation as they do on actual entertainment.
Gerard won't leave no matter what Bob says or does; he's worked at the brothel so long he considers it home. He wouldn't leave without his brother, anyway, and Mikey -- Mikey doesn't particularly like what he does, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Gerard paints pictures and writes poetry when he's not working, most of which Bob thinks is good enough to sell, but Gerard hides it away when Bob mentions it. There's also Frank to consider; Gerard and Mikey think of him as family, and he still lives at the brothel, even if he doesn't entertain anymore.
Frank did entertain -- he was one of the brothel's most popular boys, but Bob took him off the books as soon as he signed his name to the brothel's deed. He let Frank shout and throw things for most of the first day, but when Frank cornered him in the tiny, dusty office, Bob kissed him right on the mouth, with his arm around Frank's waist and a slow hand on Frank's jaw, and that was the end of that. He and Frank share the small house built up against the brothel's back wall. They wake slowly every morning, lying in bed until the sun is high in the sky, and during business hours, Frank chats with the patrons in the parlor, keeping smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands until it's time for their appointment.
Bob makes monthly payments to Ray, the town's sheriff. Not that he's doing anything illegal, mind -- he's just providing entertainment to the locals, and he's honest with the tax collector about his profits -- but strangers come through every so often, and strangers don't always understand how Bob operates. They don't always like that Bob expects payment up front, that he expects them to act like gentlemen, that he asks them to leave their pistols with Frank, that he thinks his girls and boys have the right to say no to anyone or anything they don't like. Ray is a calm, solid fellow; he checks on the place without being asked, and when Bob needs him, he can resolve the situation without pulling his gun.
One slow and sticky summer night, trouble does come, in the form of a smooth-talking city kid named Pete. Bob doesn't like Pete's smart clothes and he doesn't trust Pete's too-big smile, but Pete's well-mannered and polite, and for all that he was looking for a girl when he came in, he's careful as he reaches for Mikey's hand. He pays in both cash and gold, with his hand resting at the small of Mikey's back, and he kisses Mikey long and slow before they even start up the stairs.
Pete's money is good for an hour, but he spends the first thirty minutes talking, and when he finally slides up next to Mikey on the bed, they spend the next thirty just kissing. He lets his mouth wander Mikey's neck and jaw and slides his hands under Mikey's shirt, but doesn't ask for more, doesn't take more, even when Mikey grows restless and short of breath. After the hour has passed, he comes back downstairs and gives Bob more cash and gold, enough to cover Mikey's fee for the next two days, and as much as Bob can't stand the look on Gerard's face, he can't find a valid reason to turn Pete or his money away.
It's not like Bob hadn't thought of making a similar offer for Frank the first time he visited the brothel as a patron -- he would've, if he'd had the money. If he's honest with himself, he'd have to admit that Frank was the reason he tucked those cards up his sleeve that night in the first place.
Pete spends half that time hidden away in Mikey's room, where he and Mikey kiss and kiss and kiss until he finally, finally lets Mikey touch him, and then clumsily touches Mikey in return. But he also takes Mikey out, which Bob has never allowed before. He takes Mikey riding on his sleek, black, city-kid horse, and takes him for dinner and drinks at the saloon, where he pays Brendon to play Mikey's favorite songs. They kiss and cuddle in the parlor for everyone to see, and the night before Pete's money is set to run out at dawn, they watch the sunrise from the sagging balcony with their clasped hands folded in Pete's lap.
He asks Mikey to leave with him then, to his rich and fancy city life in Chicago, and that's when the trouble sarts -- Mikey won't leave without Gerard, and Gerard won't leave at all. They have jobs here, and friends, and their grandmother's buried in the churchyard. Pete tries to talk Gerard around, sweetly and first, then louder and brusquely, and after it comes to shouting it comes to blows. Neither Gerard or Pete are accustomed to fistfighting, but the manage somehow, throwing clumsy kicks and punches as they stumble over the furniture in the parlor.
Frank runs to get Ray, which only makes things worse, because Ray -- Ray's had his eye on Gerard for forever, but Gerard hasn't noticed; he's been working for a living so long that he doesn't stop to think that someone might see him for him, and Ray refuses to pay for Gerard's attention, because he wants Gerard for more than an hour at a time. By the time Ray gets there, Gerard has a bloody nose, and things get ugly fast. Ray actually pulls his pistol, and then Frank's there as well, standing at Ray's elbow with a broken whiskey bottle and a frown.
But Patrick -- and Bob's seen Patrick watching Pete, seen the way Patrick smiles at Pete when Pete isn't looking -- Patrick steps in, his hat pulled low on his head, and he says (a little shyly), that he has family in Chicago, and as it turns out, he's been meaning to go back; the last letter he had from home said his mother's been doing poorly, and he misses his brother something fierce, so he'd be happy to accompany Pete on the trip back, if Pete could just settle down long enough for Patrick to pack a bag.
After a long pause, Pete nods. He'd bought two tickets for the stagecoach to Denver, just in case Mikey had felt agreeable, and Patrick's welcome to it, since it's obviously going to go to waste otherwise, and no, payment isn't necessary, Patrick's company will do just fine, but Pete'll just wait for Patrick outside, because he doesn't like the way Gerard and Ray are looking at him, or the way Mikey won't look at him at all.
Mikey sighs as he heads for the stairs, but he stops long enough to tell Gerard, a bit loudly, that he and Ray ought to sit down at talk, because Mikey might not be leaving with Pete to Chicago, but he doesn't plan to work for Bob forever. He's finally saved what he needs for the ring he wants to buy for that Simmons girl who works at the General Store, and if she'll have him, they can always put down for a farmhouse big enough for four.
molokomolotov asked for a Brothel AU with Bob as the Madame, and my brain immediately went to the Wild, Wild West.the best little whorehouse in arizona
Bob/Frank, Gerard/Ray, Mikey/Pete, Patrick/Pete
~1,700 words, PG-13, and totally chatfic
In which Bob owns the place, Pete is a rich kid from the big city, and Ray is what passes for the law in town.
I'm thinking Old West, here. Like, something straight out of Tombstone. Chaps, spurs, big hats, and horses parked out front.
Bob owns the place; he won it in a crooked card game from a weathered old cowpoke with a bad limp and a sour smile. Bob had two Aces up his sleeve that night, as well as the King and Queen of spades, and he doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty. He's earning more money now than he ever did as a wrangler, and the guy he cheated had been too busy panning for gold to look after the place properly.
It's a tired-looking two storey a respectable distance from both the church and the General Store, and it's off the main road a piece, down a packed-dirt alley Bob tries to keep free of clutter and trash. The front door sticks a little and the upstairs balcony sags over the porch a lot, but he puts a fresh coat of whitewash on the exterior walls every summer, and he keeps the furniture nice and neat. The windowboxes are full of tiny, snow-white daisies, and he does more business than any other brothel in town. His girls know what they're about, and so do his boys. That does cause some muttering in town -- that he employs boys as well as girls -- particularly from the minister's wife, but Bob's always believed that a person's business is their own. His girls don't gossip and his boys don't ask questions, and Bob just smiles and nods when the minister slips out of Gabe's room and heads for home out the brothel's back door.
His turnover his high -- higher than Madame Vicky's or Lady Greta's -- but that's only because Bob knows people are never born for this business, they mostly fall into it for one reason or another, so he's quick to give his girls and boys a nudge if he thinks they'd be better suited for another line of work. He sent Brendon to the saloon when he learned Brendon could sing and play the piano, and he put a word in for Ryan with the local seamstress when he discovered Ryan had an eye for fabrics. Spencer helps Bob with the books more than he works the floor these days, but that's ok. Bob's never really had a head for numbers, and Spencer brought in a friend of his named Jon who knows how to mix drinks. Once Jon was around to keep an eye on the bar, it gave Patrick more time to play the piano in the parlor, and now they almost, almost make as much money on people wanting booze and music and conversation as they do on actual entertainment.
Gerard won't leave no matter what Bob says or does; he's worked at the brothel so long he considers it home. He wouldn't leave without his brother, anyway, and Mikey -- Mikey doesn't particularly like what he does, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Gerard paints pictures and writes poetry when he's not working, most of which Bob thinks is good enough to sell, but Gerard hides it away when Bob mentions it. There's also Frank to consider; Gerard and Mikey think of him as family, and he still lives at the brothel, even if he doesn't entertain anymore.
Frank did entertain -- he was one of the brothel's most popular boys, but Bob took him off the books as soon as he signed his name to the brothel's deed. He let Frank shout and throw things for most of the first day, but when Frank cornered him in the tiny, dusty office, Bob kissed him right on the mouth, with his arm around Frank's waist and a slow hand on Frank's jaw, and that was the end of that. He and Frank share the small house built up against the brothel's back wall. They wake slowly every morning, lying in bed until the sun is high in the sky, and during business hours, Frank chats with the patrons in the parlor, keeping smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands until it's time for their appointment.
Bob makes monthly payments to Ray, the town's sheriff. Not that he's doing anything illegal, mind -- he's just providing entertainment to the locals, and he's honest with the tax collector about his profits -- but strangers come through every so often, and strangers don't always understand how Bob operates. They don't always like that Bob expects payment up front, that he expects them to act like gentlemen, that he asks them to leave their pistols with Frank, that he thinks his girls and boys have the right to say no to anyone or anything they don't like. Ray is a calm, solid fellow; he checks on the place without being asked, and when Bob needs him, he can resolve the situation without pulling his gun.
One slow and sticky summer night, trouble does come, in the form of a smooth-talking city kid named Pete. Bob doesn't like Pete's smart clothes and he doesn't trust Pete's too-big smile, but Pete's well-mannered and polite, and for all that he was looking for a girl when he came in, he's careful as he reaches for Mikey's hand. He pays in both cash and gold, with his hand resting at the small of Mikey's back, and he kisses Mikey long and slow before they even start up the stairs.
Pete's money is good for an hour, but he spends the first thirty minutes talking, and when he finally slides up next to Mikey on the bed, they spend the next thirty just kissing. He lets his mouth wander Mikey's neck and jaw and slides his hands under Mikey's shirt, but doesn't ask for more, doesn't take more, even when Mikey grows restless and short of breath. After the hour has passed, he comes back downstairs and gives Bob more cash and gold, enough to cover Mikey's fee for the next two days, and as much as Bob can't stand the look on Gerard's face, he can't find a valid reason to turn Pete or his money away.
It's not like Bob hadn't thought of making a similar offer for Frank the first time he visited the brothel as a patron -- he would've, if he'd had the money. If he's honest with himself, he'd have to admit that Frank was the reason he tucked those cards up his sleeve that night in the first place.
Pete spends half that time hidden away in Mikey's room, where he and Mikey kiss and kiss and kiss until he finally, finally lets Mikey touch him, and then clumsily touches Mikey in return. But he also takes Mikey out, which Bob has never allowed before. He takes Mikey riding on his sleek, black, city-kid horse, and takes him for dinner and drinks at the saloon, where he pays Brendon to play Mikey's favorite songs. They kiss and cuddle in the parlor for everyone to see, and the night before Pete's money is set to run out at dawn, they watch the sunrise from the sagging balcony with their clasped hands folded in Pete's lap.
He asks Mikey to leave with him then, to his rich and fancy city life in Chicago, and that's when the trouble sarts -- Mikey won't leave without Gerard, and Gerard won't leave at all. They have jobs here, and friends, and their grandmother's buried in the churchyard. Pete tries to talk Gerard around, sweetly and first, then louder and brusquely, and after it comes to shouting it comes to blows. Neither Gerard or Pete are accustomed to fistfighting, but the manage somehow, throwing clumsy kicks and punches as they stumble over the furniture in the parlor.
Frank runs to get Ray, which only makes things worse, because Ray -- Ray's had his eye on Gerard for forever, but Gerard hasn't noticed; he's been working for a living so long that he doesn't stop to think that someone might see him for him, and Ray refuses to pay for Gerard's attention, because he wants Gerard for more than an hour at a time. By the time Ray gets there, Gerard has a bloody nose, and things get ugly fast. Ray actually pulls his pistol, and then Frank's there as well, standing at Ray's elbow with a broken whiskey bottle and a frown.
But Patrick -- and Bob's seen Patrick watching Pete, seen the way Patrick smiles at Pete when Pete isn't looking -- Patrick steps in, his hat pulled low on his head, and he says (a little shyly), that he has family in Chicago, and as it turns out, he's been meaning to go back; the last letter he had from home said his mother's been doing poorly, and he misses his brother something fierce, so he'd be happy to accompany Pete on the trip back, if Pete could just settle down long enough for Patrick to pack a bag.
After a long pause, Pete nods. He'd bought two tickets for the stagecoach to Denver, just in case Mikey had felt agreeable, and Patrick's welcome to it, since it's obviously going to go to waste otherwise, and no, payment isn't necessary, Patrick's company will do just fine, but Pete'll just wait for Patrick outside, because he doesn't like the way Gerard and Ray are looking at him, or the way Mikey won't look at him at all.
Mikey sighs as he heads for the stairs, but he stops long enough to tell Gerard, a bit loudly, that he and Ray ought to sit down at talk, because Mikey might not be leaving with Pete to Chicago, but he doesn't plan to work for Bob forever. He's finally saved what he needs for the ring he wants to buy for that Simmons girl who works at the General Store, and if she'll have him, they can always put down for a farmhouse big enough for four.