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Look, Liz! Pandas!
So it's been about four months since I posted any brothelers fic, which is I think about eight years in internet time. But ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
giglet kept pestering gently encouraging, and iuliamentis kept telling me I could do it, and I myself kept finding this bit way too entertaining, so the other night I finished a story I started a long, long time ago. This fits into the chronology somewhere before all the other stories set in the brothel so far.
Brothel AU. Don/Charlie, incest, prostitution, silliness, NC-17.
How was work?
After Hours
The hallway to Don's quarters was night-quiet, the lights dimmed at the end of the busy late shift, but there was a bright line under Don's door. Don smiled and hurried the last few steps to his room, mouth open to ask Charlie how his day had been, but he cut himself off as soon as he got a look inside. The light was still on, but Charlie was curled up naked in bed, facedown on a notebook, pencil in hand.
Don shut the door and logged himself off-duty on the keypad and then walked softly over to the bed. Charlie was totally motionless, barely even seeming to breathe, drooling onto a page full of smudgy penciled scribbles. Don couldn't even tell which side was up, but Charlie was going to be annoyed if his work was all waterlogged in the morning.
Don grabbed the pencil first, tugging gently; Charlie's hand tightened on it and Don had to reach down, brushing his thumb down the inside of Charlie's wrist until he relaxed. Don tucked the pencil behind his ear and reached for the notebook. He had to tilt Charlie's chin up to slide it free, wrinkling his nose at the wet sound of skin separating from paper. Charlie mumbled and shifted, trying to pull it close, and Don risked a quick yank to get the notebook away from him. Charlie sighed and closed his hand on a fold of blanket instead, snuggling back down against the mattress.
Don left the notebook and pencil on Charlie's desk and went into the bathroom to wash up and get undressed. He shut off the lights when he came back out--he'd been living in this little room long enough by now to find his way in the dark. It didn't hurt that Charlie said, "Don?" as he reached the edge of the bed, giving him something to navigate by.
"Hey, buddy," he said, settling in, and Charlie reached out to touch him like he wasn't sure Don was really there, running a hand down his chest to his stomach, letting it slide to his hip as Don turned to face him.
"Where'd my stuff go?" Charlie asked, still sounding sleepy, his hand lying still and heavy on Don's skin, just above his jockeys.
"Gremlins took it," Don replied, letting his hand fall on top of Charlie's and slide up his arm to his shoulder, bridging the distance between them. He wouldn't push closer tonight, not when Charlie was tired. Some nights he didn't want to be touched, and some nights he needed it. Charlie was usually good at making it clear which nights were which--but Charlie was still half asleep and tonight seemed iffy.
"Mmm," Charlie said, and then, "Gremlins, yeah." He sounded more amused than asleep now.
Don smiled in the dark and squeezed Charlie's shoulder. Charlie scooted closer, sliding in under Don's arm and letting his hand shift down across the small of Don's back. Don squirmed around to hold on to Charlie without too much danger of his bottom arm falling asleep on him, and Charlie pressed his face to Don's chest, tucking his head under Don's chin. Don made a low satisfied sound and held on, waiting to see what came next.
"How was work?" Charlie asked, his lips brushing Don's skin, and Don let himself shiver a little, enough of a signal for Charlie to catch if he was looking for one: yes, he was okay with more than a hug and going to sleep tonight, if that was what Charlie wanted. "Everybody behave themselves?"
Don smiled. "Well, it'd get boring if everybody behaved themselves--" and Charlie shoved lightly at his shoulder, huffing a laugh against Don's throat, and Don's smile widened in answer. "It was fine, all under control."
"Mmm," Charlie said, his hand sliding down over Don's ass. "Nobody got grabby with you?"
Don shook his head, burying his smile against Charlie's hair. Charlie had never seemed to notice any irony in being worried about the clientele taking advantage of Don, and Don had never tried to point it out to him. It was weirdly cute.
Charlie's hand tightened and pulled, and Don went where Charlie wanted him, rolling over on top of Charlie, propping himself up on one knee and one elbow so they weren't--quite--in contact.
"Nah," he said, his lips brushing Charlie's cheek. "Smacks but no squeezes, just like the rule book says."
Charlie didn't say anything to that, just slung one arm around Don's neck to pull him down into a proper kiss, while his free hand slid down into Don's shorts and violated pretty much every word of the rule book at once.
When Charlie let him up for air, Don murmured, "What about you, you have a good day at work?"
Charlie had had a few appointments from what Don could remember, but there had been no urgent alerts on the security channel, and here he was in bed, after all. Safe and sound.
Still, Charlie tipped his head back against the pillow, yanked his hand out of Don's underwear to fold his arms behind his head, and sighed gustily.
Don grinned. Whatever had happened during Charlie's shift, he was about to spill; that meant it had only bothered him in an entertaining way. He never told Don when something upset him for real, not in words.
"I," Charlie said. "I spent two and a half hours dressed up as a panda."
Don grinned, ducking his head to rub his cheek against Charlie's. "A panda?"
He could feel Charlie grinning, even if his voice sounded grim. "A panda. Mask and everything."
Don brushed his lips along Charlie's jawline. "Again?"
"Oh my God, Don, it wasn't even the same guy!"
Don buried his laugh against Charlie's skin, knowing Charlie would feel the vibration of it, hearing the answering edge of laughter under his brother's outrage.
"It was a different guy who wanted me to dress up as a fucking panda bear! And you know, they can't see me in the suit, which means somebody just wanted anybody dressed up as a panda bear, and Al said, 'Hey, you know, we can make that happen.' This is my niche, now! This is going to be my job! Pandafuckers!"
Don trailed kisses up Charlie's throat to his ear. "You wouldn't think there would be that many."
Charlie was shaking under Don, laughter breaking through into his voice. "Oh my God, they probably go on the internet and tell all the other pandafuckers--"
"All three of them," Don muttered.
"Three? Are you kidding me?" Charlie arched up under Don, bringing them abruptly into contact. Charlie was hard, and there was nothing between them but Don's underwear as Charlie ground his erection against Don's. "I'm gonna have pandafuckers lining up around the block for a piece of this."
Don slid a hand down to Charlie's hip, holding him still and thrusting against him, the cotton friction a little rough and maddening. "I'm getting this feeling like the whole experience is not as much fun for the panda."
"Well," Charlie said, squirming out of Don's grip and shoving Don's shorts down. "The panda gets paid, so the panda is laughing all the way to the bank."
Charlie's hand closed on Don's cock, and Don jerked into his grip, pressing his face against Charlie's throat.
"But no," Charlie murmured, pushing at Don's shoulder until Don tipped back onto his side. Charlie kept stroking him, his eyes steady on Don's cock and his own hand. Don kept his eyes open against the steady pull of pleasure just to watch the uncomplicated light in Charlie's eyes. "It really doesn't do much for the panda."
Don grinned, fucking Charlie's fist in awkward jerks, giving it up to Charlie just the way Charlie wanted him to.
"How does that even work?" Don asked breathlessly, getting his hand onto the smooth warm skin of Charlie's hip. Charlie gave the head of his cock an (expert) squeeze, twisting his grip in a way that sent pleasure shooting up and down Don's spine. He didn't break his rhythm or twitch away from Don's touch.
Don slid his hand down to Charlie's cock--it had been years but it still felt a little crazy every time, new and wild and unbelievable--and then his hand fell into the rhythm, thumb working just like that and Charlie's dick jerking in his hand as Charlie's eyes brightened and flicked up to meet Don's straight on.
Don tried to remember what he'd been saying. "I mean, is there a hole in the suit or something?"
Charlie's hand stuttered in its motion, and Charlie laughed, really laughed, falling forward against Don. Don rolled onto his back and Charlie moved with him, straddling him and lining their dicks up. He kept laughing as he moved against Don, hard skidding friction of their cocks against each other, his hips jerking in time to the snickers that kept escaping him.
"No," he said as Don got his hand on Charlie's cock again, holding him still for a minute so Don could jerk up against him. "There's--there's no hole."
Charlie dropped almost flat on top of Don, kissing him sloppy and wet, his hips rolling continuously with a little snap at the end of the thrust (they practiced that, Don had seen them, and it was still unbearably hot). The smooth motion and heavy friction and Charlie's mouth sliding breathlessly off his all combined to leave Don feeling giddy, on the verge of breaking into that same wild laughter.
"Pandafrotteur," Charlie murmured. "Just doesn't have the same ring to it."
Don's breath caught and then he was laughing and couldn't stop. He got his hands on Charlie's ass, bucking up into him and laughing into every half-assed kiss until Charlie gave up and moved lower, making ticklish, obscene noises against Don's throat. Don couldn't catch his breath for laughing, writhing under Charlie, half-wrestling with him, trying to push Charlie's mouth away and pull his hips impossibly closer all at once. It was all good, Charlie's body and Charlie snorting against Don's shoulder, almost choking on his own laughter. This was good, this moment, maybe as good as they'd ever had it.
Charlie caught his breath as he came, freezing for just a second--startled, Don thought--and then jerking against Don. Don braced his heels on the bed and arched up into it, gasping and laughing and holding on to Charlie. He came almost before Charlie had finished, and Charlie pushed up and rode him through it, his hand on Don's pulsing cock and his eyes sparkling.
Don let his eyes slide shut and tried to catch his breath, only to have it knocked half out of him when Charlie dropped flat on top of him.
"Hey," Don muttered, poking him in the ribs. "People are trying to breathe here. Pandafucker."
Charlie started laughing again, the sound half-muffled against Don's skin, so that he felt it as much as heard it. He fell asleep with his hand on Charlie's back and a smile on his face.
Previous parts:
Safe and Sound
Clocking Out
At the End of the Day
Morning Lessons
Mr. Wednesday Two O'Clock
Today's Special (violence)
Never Reaching an End
Homeward
Bound (NC-17)
Don and Charlie's Day Off
Stockton
Quiet and Still
Thinking of Jumping
On the Couch
giglet kept iuliamentis kept telling me I could do it, and I myself kept finding this bit way too entertaining, so the other night I finished a story I started a long, long time ago. This fits into the chronology somewhere before all the other stories set in the brothel so far. Brothel AU. Don/Charlie, incest, prostitution, silliness, NC-17.
How was work?
After Hours
The hallway to Don's quarters was night-quiet, the lights dimmed at the end of the busy late shift, but there was a bright line under Don's door. Don smiled and hurried the last few steps to his room, mouth open to ask Charlie how his day had been, but he cut himself off as soon as he got a look inside. The light was still on, but Charlie was curled up naked in bed, facedown on a notebook, pencil in hand.
Don shut the door and logged himself off-duty on the keypad and then walked softly over to the bed. Charlie was totally motionless, barely even seeming to breathe, drooling onto a page full of smudgy penciled scribbles. Don couldn't even tell which side was up, but Charlie was going to be annoyed if his work was all waterlogged in the morning.
Don grabbed the pencil first, tugging gently; Charlie's hand tightened on it and Don had to reach down, brushing his thumb down the inside of Charlie's wrist until he relaxed. Don tucked the pencil behind his ear and reached for the notebook. He had to tilt Charlie's chin up to slide it free, wrinkling his nose at the wet sound of skin separating from paper. Charlie mumbled and shifted, trying to pull it close, and Don risked a quick yank to get the notebook away from him. Charlie sighed and closed his hand on a fold of blanket instead, snuggling back down against the mattress.
Don left the notebook and pencil on Charlie's desk and went into the bathroom to wash up and get undressed. He shut off the lights when he came back out--he'd been living in this little room long enough by now to find his way in the dark. It didn't hurt that Charlie said, "Don?" as he reached the edge of the bed, giving him something to navigate by.
"Hey, buddy," he said, settling in, and Charlie reached out to touch him like he wasn't sure Don was really there, running a hand down his chest to his stomach, letting it slide to his hip as Don turned to face him.
"Where'd my stuff go?" Charlie asked, still sounding sleepy, his hand lying still and heavy on Don's skin, just above his jockeys.
"Gremlins took it," Don replied, letting his hand fall on top of Charlie's and slide up his arm to his shoulder, bridging the distance between them. He wouldn't push closer tonight, not when Charlie was tired. Some nights he didn't want to be touched, and some nights he needed it. Charlie was usually good at making it clear which nights were which--but Charlie was still half asleep and tonight seemed iffy.
"Mmm," Charlie said, and then, "Gremlins, yeah." He sounded more amused than asleep now.
Don smiled in the dark and squeezed Charlie's shoulder. Charlie scooted closer, sliding in under Don's arm and letting his hand shift down across the small of Don's back. Don squirmed around to hold on to Charlie without too much danger of his bottom arm falling asleep on him, and Charlie pressed his face to Don's chest, tucking his head under Don's chin. Don made a low satisfied sound and held on, waiting to see what came next.
"How was work?" Charlie asked, his lips brushing Don's skin, and Don let himself shiver a little, enough of a signal for Charlie to catch if he was looking for one: yes, he was okay with more than a hug and going to sleep tonight, if that was what Charlie wanted. "Everybody behave themselves?"
Don smiled. "Well, it'd get boring if everybody behaved themselves--" and Charlie shoved lightly at his shoulder, huffing a laugh against Don's throat, and Don's smile widened in answer. "It was fine, all under control."
"Mmm," Charlie said, his hand sliding down over Don's ass. "Nobody got grabby with you?"
Don shook his head, burying his smile against Charlie's hair. Charlie had never seemed to notice any irony in being worried about the clientele taking advantage of Don, and Don had never tried to point it out to him. It was weirdly cute.
Charlie's hand tightened and pulled, and Don went where Charlie wanted him, rolling over on top of Charlie, propping himself up on one knee and one elbow so they weren't--quite--in contact.
"Nah," he said, his lips brushing Charlie's cheek. "Smacks but no squeezes, just like the rule book says."
Charlie didn't say anything to that, just slung one arm around Don's neck to pull him down into a proper kiss, while his free hand slid down into Don's shorts and violated pretty much every word of the rule book at once.
When Charlie let him up for air, Don murmured, "What about you, you have a good day at work?"
Charlie had had a few appointments from what Don could remember, but there had been no urgent alerts on the security channel, and here he was in bed, after all. Safe and sound.
Still, Charlie tipped his head back against the pillow, yanked his hand out of Don's underwear to fold his arms behind his head, and sighed gustily.
Don grinned. Whatever had happened during Charlie's shift, he was about to spill; that meant it had only bothered him in an entertaining way. He never told Don when something upset him for real, not in words.
"I," Charlie said. "I spent two and a half hours dressed up as a panda."
Don grinned, ducking his head to rub his cheek against Charlie's. "A panda?"
He could feel Charlie grinning, even if his voice sounded grim. "A panda. Mask and everything."
Don brushed his lips along Charlie's jawline. "Again?"
"Oh my God, Don, it wasn't even the same guy!"
Don buried his laugh against Charlie's skin, knowing Charlie would feel the vibration of it, hearing the answering edge of laughter under his brother's outrage.
"It was a different guy who wanted me to dress up as a fucking panda bear! And you know, they can't see me in the suit, which means somebody just wanted anybody dressed up as a panda bear, and Al said, 'Hey, you know, we can make that happen.' This is my niche, now! This is going to be my job! Pandafuckers!"
Don trailed kisses up Charlie's throat to his ear. "You wouldn't think there would be that many."
Charlie was shaking under Don, laughter breaking through into his voice. "Oh my God, they probably go on the internet and tell all the other pandafuckers--"
"All three of them," Don muttered.
"Three? Are you kidding me?" Charlie arched up under Don, bringing them abruptly into contact. Charlie was hard, and there was nothing between them but Don's underwear as Charlie ground his erection against Don's. "I'm gonna have pandafuckers lining up around the block for a piece of this."
Don slid a hand down to Charlie's hip, holding him still and thrusting against him, the cotton friction a little rough and maddening. "I'm getting this feeling like the whole experience is not as much fun for the panda."
"Well," Charlie said, squirming out of Don's grip and shoving Don's shorts down. "The panda gets paid, so the panda is laughing all the way to the bank."
Charlie's hand closed on Don's cock, and Don jerked into his grip, pressing his face against Charlie's throat.
"But no," Charlie murmured, pushing at Don's shoulder until Don tipped back onto his side. Charlie kept stroking him, his eyes steady on Don's cock and his own hand. Don kept his eyes open against the steady pull of pleasure just to watch the uncomplicated light in Charlie's eyes. "It really doesn't do much for the panda."
Don grinned, fucking Charlie's fist in awkward jerks, giving it up to Charlie just the way Charlie wanted him to.
"How does that even work?" Don asked breathlessly, getting his hand onto the smooth warm skin of Charlie's hip. Charlie gave the head of his cock an (expert) squeeze, twisting his grip in a way that sent pleasure shooting up and down Don's spine. He didn't break his rhythm or twitch away from Don's touch.
Don slid his hand down to Charlie's cock--it had been years but it still felt a little crazy every time, new and wild and unbelievable--and then his hand fell into the rhythm, thumb working just like that and Charlie's dick jerking in his hand as Charlie's eyes brightened and flicked up to meet Don's straight on.
Don tried to remember what he'd been saying. "I mean, is there a hole in the suit or something?"
Charlie's hand stuttered in its motion, and Charlie laughed, really laughed, falling forward against Don. Don rolled onto his back and Charlie moved with him, straddling him and lining their dicks up. He kept laughing as he moved against Don, hard skidding friction of their cocks against each other, his hips jerking in time to the snickers that kept escaping him.
"No," he said as Don got his hand on Charlie's cock again, holding him still for a minute so Don could jerk up against him. "There's--there's no hole."
Charlie dropped almost flat on top of Don, kissing him sloppy and wet, his hips rolling continuously with a little snap at the end of the thrust (they practiced that, Don had seen them, and it was still unbearably hot). The smooth motion and heavy friction and Charlie's mouth sliding breathlessly off his all combined to leave Don feeling giddy, on the verge of breaking into that same wild laughter.
"Pandafrotteur," Charlie murmured. "Just doesn't have the same ring to it."
Don's breath caught and then he was laughing and couldn't stop. He got his hands on Charlie's ass, bucking up into him and laughing into every half-assed kiss until Charlie gave up and moved lower, making ticklish, obscene noises against Don's throat. Don couldn't catch his breath for laughing, writhing under Charlie, half-wrestling with him, trying to push Charlie's mouth away and pull his hips impossibly closer all at once. It was all good, Charlie's body and Charlie snorting against Don's shoulder, almost choking on his own laughter. This was good, this moment, maybe as good as they'd ever had it.
Charlie caught his breath as he came, freezing for just a second--startled, Don thought--and then jerking against Don. Don braced his heels on the bed and arched up into it, gasping and laughing and holding on to Charlie. He came almost before Charlie had finished, and Charlie pushed up and rode him through it, his hand on Don's pulsing cock and his eyes sparkling.
Don let his eyes slide shut and tried to catch his breath, only to have it knocked half out of him when Charlie dropped flat on top of him.
"Hey," Don muttered, poking him in the ribs. "People are trying to breathe here. Pandafucker."
Charlie started laughing again, the sound half-muffled against Don's skin, so that he felt it as much as heard it. He fell asleep with his hand on Charlie's back and a smile on his face.
Previous parts:
Safe and Sound
Clocking Out
At the End of the Day
Morning Lessons
Mr. Wednesday Two O'Clock
Today's Special (violence)
Never Reaching an End
Homeward
Bound (NC-17)
Don and Charlie's Day Off
Stockton
Quiet and Still
Thinking of Jumping
On the Couch