I'm Just Passing The Time (Peterick Stripper AU)

Downtown (Back To Pete's POV)

"I ran into some foot traffic."

"Frankie, I know how long that route takes, even with foot traffic. Don't try and pretend Dallon didn't set you up with someone Friday night."

I could hear the conversation drifting up the steps as I walked down to the buildings lobby. It was a Tuesday morning. I was just coming to check the mail, but I walked into a bit of an unexpected scene. Frank was sat on the desk while Gerard poked his chest with a teasing smile on his face. When Frank noticed me, he shifted slightly on the desk and Gerard pulled away.

"Hey, Pete." Gerard nodded.

I nodded back, hurrying over to the mail box slots. I was looking through the empty slot as Frank and Gerard continued to speak lowly.

"He offered...How could I say no to one of your best clients?" Frank sighed.

"It took you four days to tell me, Frankie?" Gerard asked with a sigh in his own tone, "I've taken dances there too, I don't mind..."

I shut the mail box and turned around to see Gerard smirking in Frank's face. Frank was biting his lip with a nod, looking over the pale haired boy's face. I looked down and began to head towards the stairs again.

"Pete!" I was stopped by Gerard's voice. I turned to look at him, but he hadn't moved from his position in front of Frank. "Have you reconsidered my offer?" He asked, not even looking over at me.

I bit my lip. It's not like I had found any work yet. I had nothing... I was still living on Brendon's dime. Would bootlegging really be so bad?.. Couldn't be that bad if Gerard had been working the business for so long uncaught...

"I'll take that as considering..." Gerard spoke again in a teasing voice. He laughed, pulling away from Frank before turning to me. "Just say the word. I can have you paid tonight, if needed. Never too late in the night for some booze and a dance..." He shrugged, leaning against the desk space next to where Frank sat.

"Is it safe?" I asked, already knowing it really wasn't.

"Depends." Gerard shrugged, "Frankie here hasn't gotten hurt yet. I can partner you up with him for a few jobs, if it'll make you feel better."

It would be good to have some money... It was also halfway through the week, meaning Brendon would be visiting the club in just a few days...

"Alright." I shrugged. What could I do? I wanted more and more to get another chance with The Punk as the days went on... I'd need my own money for that.

Gerard grinned. "Great!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "You can help with a delivery tonight to a local speakeasy. Nothing too major for your first run."

"How much does this pay?" I asked.

"A pretty penny." Frank grinned.

---

Frank was walking ahead of me while I carried the box of goods. It was late, probably past midnight. The streets were bare except for the occasional tabby cat. We were supposed to be making the speakeasy on this street, but I didn't even know one existed over here.

"Down the alley." Frank instructed with a whisper after scanning our surroundings. I followed his lead. He walked down until he found a door, hidden by darkness. He leaned against the wall and tapped the door, once slowly then twice quickly. We waited less than thirty seconds before the door opened just slightly.

"Joe, you want your shipment or not?" Frank asked with a bored sigh.

"You know I do! Just a second." A voice laughed quietly. The door closed again and reopened fully after a clicking sound. A guy with short, curly hair leaned out. "Got my booze?"