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

You've Gotta Save Your Reputation

He had stayed. When I woke up, he was asleep next to me. I stayed still, examining his relaxed features. He looked so delicate in the pale light that crept through the shutters on my windows. The discoloration was beginning to fade to a porcine glow.

How on earth could someone so handsome reduce themselves to this level of employment?

This coming from a bootlegger that only took the job to pay for said stripper.

The Punk stirred. His eyes opened slowly, trying to blink away sleep. When they focused on me, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Bonjour yeux whiskey..." He mumbled in a ruff morning voice.

"Hi." I responded, a smile tugging at my own lips.

The Punk sat up and stretched. He then looked down at me before putting his hands down and crawling on top of me. "Est-il temps pour le plaisir?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"Oh, baby..." I slid my hands up his arms and rested them on his back, "Let's have some fun."

((Shitty Smexicals vibes))

With my words, The Punk immediately pushed his lips against mine. I could feel him against my leg as the kiss deepened. He tugged at my lip, pulling it back and looking me in the eye before letting it go.

"You know what to do for me..." He hummed, already working at the buttons of the shirt he was wearing. I nodded, spinning myself so that I was laying on my stomach. My hands were just beside my head when I felt the stripper put his hands just on top of mine. His warm breath was suddenly at my neck.

"Still such an improvement from our first meeting..." He giggled, biting my ear lightly. He released it quickly and pressed his lips against the edge of my jawline. "It's intoxicating..."

His hands slid down my body to my waist. He easily peeled away my pants and underwear, leaving me exposed to him. Similar to the alley, I heard a slight 'pop' from his mouth before I felt the wet fingers at my entrance. I let out a soft, pillow muffled cry as I felt him slide himself inside. His hands slid up and down my torso, trying to soothe as his hips moved rhythmically.

I bit my lip. I hid my face in my pillow. I tried to stay quiet, knowing Brendon was asleep on just the other side of the door. It was hard with The Punk. I wanted to cry out from the top of my lungs. It felt too good not to, but even my stripper was being soft with his grunts and moans.

The loudest he got was when he released, making me cry out into my pillow. I clutched the bedding as his grip on me tightened, dramatically. It was over soon, however, and he simply plopped himself down on top of me. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck.

((End of shitty smexicals vibes))

"That was fun..." He giggled lightly, resting his head between my shoulder blades with a sigh.

"I could get used to that in the mornings..." I muttered, slowly relaxing the grip on my sheets.

"I wouldn't, yeux whiskey..." The stripper spoke almost silently, "House calls are not usually my cup of tea..."

"Couldn't it be? With the right price?" I asked, looking back over my shoulder as best as I could. I could see The Punk's blond hair and the shoulder of his strange fabric webbing.

He simply shrugged with a light hum in response. He wasn't going to give me a straight answer. I turned back around and let my head rest on my pillow. For awhile, we simply sat in silence, until noises could be heard from the main room. The Punk rolled off of me and onto the empty spot on the bed so that I could get up to check. There were voices.

I made sure to pull up my pants and slide a shirt over my arms before opening my bedroom door. Outside of it was a woman with short brown hair wearing a shimmering, short, black dress. She also had a matching headband around her head. She was talking to Brendon, not even noticing me opening my bedroom door.

"Brendon, I know you don't want this either! I couldn't talk daddy out of it!"

Brendon frowned back at the girl. He was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. "Do you think I could talk my pops out of it? Believe me, I tried, didn't end well."

The girl sighed, plopping herself down on the couch. "I don't know what we're gonna do..." She pouted slightly. "Tony has a business here, he can't just leave."

"One of us has got to make the move, Sara." Brendon sighed, throwing his hands up slightly before letting them fall to his side. "You're happy with that Perry guy, I'm happy with... My own person..." Brendon looked at the ground as he said it.

"I wish I could convince Tony to run away." Sara looked desperate, "But he's in with guys that are like family to him... They might be able to hide us!"

"Sweetheart, you know your dad would comb the city for you." Brendon walked over to the couch and sat next to Sara, taking her hand. "He ain't loosing his only girl easy. Trust me, I've gotten the talk from him."

Sara groaned in frustration, leaning back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. She shook her head. "This is hopeless..."

"C'mon, Sara." Brendon was trying to make her feel better. He squeezed her hand, "Where's that smile that probably won Tony's heart?"

She sat up slightly and gave Brendon a weak smile. He gave a small smile back with a nod of encouragement.

"There you go..." He spoke softly, "Now listen. I'm gonna be the one to run away."

Sara's eyes widened. "But Brendon, you have such a good living here!"

Brendon just chuckled. "Sweetheart, money is nothing when you aren't happy." He said simply. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Now, if I don't see you before I go, just know I wish you and Tony the best." He winked, making her smile grow.

"You're really doing this for me?" She asked, a slight amazement in her tone.

"Me too, Sweetheart." Brendon nodded, "I've got a life that's on diverging rails as well." He stood up and helped Sara to her feet. He lead her over to the door, holding it open for her. "You better take care of yourself."

"Don't forget about you." Sara laughed, "And whoever your secret love is..."

"So long, Sara." Brendon said quietly before closing the front door. Once it was closed, he sighed. He pushed his fingers through his hair and looked around the room. "My little Hershey Kiss! You can come out."

I stepped fully out of my room at the same time that Brendon's stripper slipped out of Brendon's room. The small stripper hurried over and quickly wrapped his arms around Brendon, resting his head against Brendon's chest. The Punk slipped out of my room just behind me, curiosity in his expression.

"What does it mean, Mon amour?" The Hershey Eyes asked, looking up at Brendon with a worry on his face.

Brendon held the boy tightly back, looking off at the wall opposite of him. He was deep in thought, giving no response.

"Yeux whiskey?" The Punk asked, making me turn to him. He didn't even state his question before I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Mister Brendon?" Ryan asked sweetly, releasing his hold on Brendon slightly to trace his hand along Brendon's jawline. Brendon seemed to blink back into reality and looked down at the stripper. He kissed the brown haired boy's head lightly before he finally spoke.

"I don't really know..." He said, quietly, resting his head on Ryan's. "Just like before I... I don't know..."

"Nous pourrions fuir." The brown haired boy suggested quietly, "Anywhere with you would be good enough for me..."

"Je ne sais pas..." Brendon replied with a whisper, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Shhh... Ne pleure pas..." The smaller boy soothed, "I am here..."

I began backing towards my room, bumping into The Punk as I went. I motioned for him to return as well. Once we were in, I shut the door silently.

"What now?" He asked once I turned back to the bed where he was sitting, "It's not my place to ask, but what was that?"

I sighed, looking down at the floor with a shake of my head. "That could be a whole other story in itself." I finally replied with a shrug. "Unfortunately, it's a big factor in this one..."