Archive of Our Own ^beta

Goosefat Bill was a man in serious need of some friends, and he knew it.

While that didn't make the situation any prettier or more convenient, Arthur figured that he might drag something out of this whole mess yet. Sure, he had a couple of Blacklegs in his backpocket - and welcome they were to it, provided they kept in mind the difference between looking and touching without payment up front and in full.

Goosefat didn't look rich, but appearances might deceive. Besides, if this whole Resistance thing ever took off, it might not be such a bad thing to have the Blacklegs's third most wanted owe him and the girls one. You really couldn't overrate neutrality.

"Seems the Blacklegs have got themselves a runner," Arthur said. Making conversation, all casual-like.

It'd be two, three minutes before the Blacklegs'd come in through the front door. Plenty of time to cut a deal, make sure everyone got home all nice and alive.

"From the sound of it, right now, they've got nothing at all," Goosefat said. He was bleeding a bit, just enough to get him caught the moment anyone took a second glance at him.

"Be that as it may be, the situation doesn't look too good for you from where I'm standing." Arthur spread his hands, to show he meant no harm. A truth, or nearly so. "So why don't you make me an offer?"

Goosefat stared at him. There were some hurtful feelings in that stare. Condemnation, even.

Nothing Arthur hadn't seen before, but still. Something to keep in mind when the moment came to settle on a price.

"An offer," Goosefat repeated. "Like what?"

At least he wasn't playing dumb. That was good, that was. Arthur might even go so far as to say it gave him hope that maybe Goosefat wasn't as much of an idiot as he seemed to be, being Resistance and getting himself bloodied and everything.

"Money's good," Arthur said. "Money gets you lots of places, around here, and a couple of other things, too."

"I don't have any money," said Goosefat, which sounded like a lie to Arthur's well-developed hearing.

A man of means who was reluctant to admit so, even in a situation where his life was at stake. Small wonder the Resistance was faring so poorly.

'course, it might simply be that he didn't have any money right here, right now. It happened. You forgot which pair of trousers you'd left your purse in, and whoops. Arthur'd seen it happen plenty of times, to all kinds of customers.

"That's all right, mate. We'll work something out."

"A payment plan?" Goosefat sounded amused.

Arthur supposed that he should be glad everyone was having themselves a good time. "If that's what you want to call it, sure. But I'll need a bit of reassurance. Something to let me know that you're serious, that you're truly committed to making sure I get what's mine. You follow me?"

"You're profiting from other people's misery," Goosefat said. "It must be nice, to be so utterly without any conscience or decency."

"Now, there's no call to get insulting, is there?" Arthur shook his head. "Think of me as a businessman. A friend, even. You want me as an enemy, we can do that, no problem. I call in the Blacklegs, they take you away, and that'll be the end of it. Is that what you want? All the same to me, really."

Goosefat clenched his jaw. Arthur smiled at him, to show there were no hard feelings.

"Thought not. So what would you say was a fair price to get you out of here, no muss, no fuss and most important of all, no Blacklegs on your tail?"

"My eternal friendship and goodwill?" Goosefat sounded sarcastic.

"That and two coppers might buy me a beer," said Arthur. "Mind, it'd be very poor stuff. Try again."

The Blacklegs were coming through the door - he heard them. Bad luck, but then, not his fault some people simply didn't seem to know what was good for them.

Goosefat hesitated. Nothing wrong with his ears, at least. "I've hidden some money nearby. I can give you the location. There should be enough to compensate you for any ... inconvenience suffered."

"See?" Arthur grinned. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Goosefat's eyes darted to the entrance to the room, then to the stairways.

"Now, to show what a good friend I am, why don't you pick one of the girls? She'll take you upstairs, make sure you're covered when the Blacklegs come in for a quick look. All nice and easy."

"What about you?" Goosefat asked.

Arthur smirked. "I'm flattered."

Goosefat wasn't too bad-looking, he supposed, discounting the bit where he was bleeding and wanted by the Blacklegs. Details like that rather spoilt any natural charms a man might have.

"I didn't mean - " Goosefat flushed - hard to say whether it was with embarrassment or anger. Bit of both, maybe. Arthur'd seen his type before. Might be fun to crack that haughty exterior and demonstrate that when you came right down to it, a man was a man was a man.

Still, something best left for another time, most likely. Such as never.

"What's the matter?" Arthur asked. "You saying this place isn't good enough for you?"

Goosefat - oh, yes, cracking this one would definitely be fun. This day and age though, who had the time?

"Well, that's just too bad, mate," Arthur said. "Don't see anyone else willing to put their lives on the line to help you out. Do you? Because if so, be my guest."

"Wasn't that the general idea?" said Goosefat, a little snippy.

Snippy was all right, though. Arthur could work with snippy. "That's right, it was. Thanks ever so much for reminding me. Shall we, then?" He gestured towards the stairs. "After you, mate. I insist."

Goosefat's expression didn't come close to happy. He went, though, which was good enough.

"Left," Arthur said. "Second door. It'll be empty."

It was, indeed. Goosefat sat down on the bed, a chair being a luxury these rooms didn't generally provide, unless a customer specifically asked for one. (What they used it for was their business, up to a certain clearly defined degree.)

Arthur considered standing, then decided he'd been on his feet long enough.

"You're a doctor?" Goosefat asked, as Arthur reached for his tunic. It was both torn and bloody, so unlikely to be good for anything but rags, which was a pity.

"No, but if that's what you're into, I can do a fair enough imitation," said Arthur. "C'mon. Off. Let me have a look."

"I'll live," Goosefat said.

"Big words coming from a man wanted by the Blacklegs," said Arthur. "Still, can't fault your optimism. Where's this cache of money, then?"

Goosefat glanced at the door. It was nice and shut, the way Arthur'd have left it if he'd been with an actual customer, rather than some suicidal idiot from the Resistance. "I'll tell you later. After they're gone."

"Don't think so, mate." In a pinch, Arthur imagined he might figure something out - tie Goosefat up or something and get word to Jack to come pick him up, but it'd be a pain in the ass. "You're telling me, now, or you can try telling them, see how far that gets you."

"You really are a bastard, aren't you?" Goosefat's look implied stronger language.

Arthur shrugged. "Can't help the way I was born. How about we stop talking about me, though, and start getting down to business? Need a hand making this look convincing?"

Rather than wait for a reply - or more likely, another hurtful stare, Arthur reached for Goosefat's pants.

"Huh. Guess you don't."

Goosefat glowered. Way too touchy, really, not that that couldn't look good on the right sort of face.

"Now, darling, don't be like that," Arthur said. "You just lie back and think of England, and this'll all be over soon enough."

"I'm not - " Goosefat started, the sound of Blackleg boots hitting the stairs tragically interrupting him before he could get around to saying what, exactly, he wasn't.

Arthur pulled off his own shirt, noticing the way Goosefat's gaze flicked to his chest. He grinned, pushing Goosefat back so that anyone coming in would see little more of him than his legs. "Oh, but I think you are, mate. All those things you say you aren't, all those things you say you don't want, but you and I, we know better than that, don't we?" Goosefat breathed in sharply, and Arthur leaned in a bit closer. "No need to be shy, now. No judgment here, darling. Just tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

He felt Goosefat's body tense under his when someone pulled open the door.

"Jack. Busy with a customer right now. Can this wait?" A bit of a gamble, but then, there was a reason Jack got a nice, fat discount every time he came to visit, and it wasn't so that he'd stand by as other Blacklegs came walking in and might demand a slice of the pie for themselves.

Goosefat moaned. It was - really something. Not good, Arthur didn't think. Any customer pulled that kind of moan on him, he'd tell them to go see a doctor, stat. A real one.

"Five minutes," Jack said, which wasn't generous. He followed it up by closing the door, though - being polite about it, too, not slamming it, so Arthur figured the evening was still proceeding according to plan.

Goosefat moaned again, even louder. Arthur wanted to - he didn't get paid to care, or even like his customers, and if this was what Goosefat was into, then good for him, but - "What the fuck is that?"

"I'm helping you make this look convincing," said Goosefat. The idiot.

"You sound like you're diseased," Arthur said. "Like someone's torturing a dog. An old dog."

Goosefat glared at him. Arthur decided he could really get into seeing that expression on Goosefat's face. A pity Jack would be expecting him in ten minutes - he might stretch it to fifteen, provided he apologized properly, but even fifteen minutes wouldn't nearly be enough to really get to work on Goosefat, give him a hands-on-cock demonstration of what a real moan sounded like.

"Look, I don't have time for this," Arthur said. "Just - I get you off, you get me the money. You don't get me the money, bad things happen."

"You'd need to find me first," said Goosefat. Greatly improving what little trust Arthur had had in his intending to keep up his side of their bargain.

"Trust me, mate. I'll find you."

Goosefat looked doubtful for a few moments, but then Arthur managed to get a proper hold of his cock, which at least managed to make him look like he was beginning to properly enjoy himself here.

"Now, this one time, I'm making this quick," Arthur said. "You come again, with the money, and I'll be taking it nice and slow, yeah? Like you're a real customer, almost, instead of some poor schmuck I'm risking my life for."

Goosefat produced a sound in between a moan and a growl. It was very nearly cute, if you liked that sort of thing.

"There we go," Arthur said. "See? Quick, but good, yeah? You should feel flattered. People pay good money for this, and I mean real money, not money they say they'd hidden under a floorboard somewhere, or behind a rock or whatever."

Goosefat made that weird sound again, so Arthur let him have a little bit more, a bit extra, which happily proved to be just enough to provide a satisfactory ending to the proceedings for at least one of them.

"The money's real," Goosefat panted. "I swear."

Arthur noticed the lack of oath-taking on Goosefat intending to actually deliver said money to him.

"Great. I'll see you around then, shall I?" He patted Goosefat on the ass as he left the room, probably to never set eyes on the moron again, but then, you couldn't win them all.

Anyway, he'd still have the Resistance owning him a favor. That might be worth something, some day.