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Hipster Brothel

By:K.A. Merikan

ted between dark stubble and a smooth face, and he was kind of jealous of Mr. B's beard-growing capacity. If he had a beard like that, he'd be playing with it constantly. "Exactly. There are plenty of fish in the sea."

Like me. The one fish that you don't know is actually not only edible but also delicious when prepared in the right way.

Jo was such a goner. And when meeting Mr. B's pale eyes from up close, he couldn't help but think of the soft-looking lips that now tasted of the moonshine and cherry tobacco.

Mr. B shook his head. "I don't even know if I want a relationship now. I'm so tired of all the bullshit Mr. A's put me through. You know what?" Mr. B clinked his jar against Jo's. "I'm actually happy it's over. I can only go up from here. I've got all this furniture from my brother's junkyard, and I've been meaning to upcycle it for ages, but with the job and living at Mr. A's I could never find the time."

Jo quickly took a big gulp of the sharp alcohol, surprised by its fruity undertone. This was some new creation. "Preach. You don't need that old goat. If anything, he was holding you back all this time."

Mr. B pulled on Jo's bun, nodding. "Right? I've got so much potential. Even this booze? It's fucking delicious, and I made it myself. I have this place, I have ideas, I have a lot going for me. His boring-ass furniture store can go suck it. I think it's becoming too mainstream anyway."




"Right?" asked Jo, quickly downing his makeshift cup of the delicious liquor that warmed his throat and chest instantly. "Selling tree stumps as stools for 200 bucks? I never said it, because I thought you'd be angry, but I always thought he had no creativity whatsoever. Your furniture and designs have always been so much more original. I can feel the thought you put into them. You know, like when you have basil ice cream, and it works, even though you felt like it shouldn't."

Jo's heart fluttered when Mr. B's lips spread into a wide smile. "Mmm … basil ice cream."

"I know, right? We need to have some again," said Jo and poured himself some more booze. "But, you know. Like this thing. Imagine jams that taste like this. Adult preserves. You could make that."

Mr. B nodded quickly and looked inside his jar. "Hell yeah I could make that. 'Boozy jams'. 'Preseviquers'-" He frowned. "No, that one doesn't sound good. 'Mr. B's beer jams'?"

Jo bit into one of the red velvet cookies. "Frooze? Moonjam?"

Mr. B laughed out loud, already flushed on the cheeks, which only made Jo wonder if it was how he looked when he was aroused. "I love Moonjam. Keep 'em coming! Jo, this could totally be my new thing. Why not? I need a new outlet."

"Exactly. You know how pricy artisanal products can be. It could be a great business for you, especially with your family owning that farm. You'd buy your produce from them. All 100 percent organic."

Mr. B leaned over and left a big smooch on Jo's cheek. "That's good thinking right there! I'll show Mr. A I'm more than fine on my own." He rose and picked up his pipe. "I'm twenty-eight, I do Crossfit, I have talents. I'm in the prime of my life! He can go fuck himself."

The kiss burned Jo's cheek, so he changed the topic, feeling so hot he wished he could just pull off his top. "How much investment money can you hope for?"

Mr. B licked his lips and stared at Jo in silence, only making the temperature in the room rise. "I gotta save up." Instead of lighting the pipe right away, he pulled the yellow sweater off, revealing that he was wearing one of Jo's favorite shirts, gray plaid that fit Mr. B just right around the big tattooed arms and chest.

Jo nodded, painstakingly keeping his gaze on the rosy cheeks and glazed-over eyes. "You know... if you needed any help, I will be there. You know my job isn't all that, and it's not full-time anyway."

Mr. B mulled over that for a moment as he lit his pipe, instantly filling the space with more cherry smoke. "If you have some spare time and a bit of cash, we could partner up, do the business together." He poured Jo more liquor, seeming slightly dazed himself. "We could name the brand after both of us, you know, connecting the names. Jornard?"

Jo exhaled and instantly drank some more, watching Mr. B with the burn of the kiss still present on his cheek. He'd written enough pieces on Brangelina to know what 'Jornard' suggested. "That makes it sound like we're married. Besides, I don't have that much cash. I could offer my time for shares. We could do some kind of crowdfunding for the money, maybe?"

Mr. B nodded, looking serious with that pipe in his mouth. Or absolutely ridiculous. Jo wasn't sure which one it was. "This is good. I like this." He pulled out a notepad and sat back next to Jo, thigh to thigh. "So I'll need to make some money quick. What assets do I have?"

"Yourself. Me. This train car," said Jo and offered him a cookie. He was glad to see the gloom gone from Mr. B's face.

With one hand busy with the pipe and the other with the notepad, instead of taking the cookie, Mr. B bit into it straight from Jo's hand. Without thinking, Jo pushed the rest of it into his own mouth, gaze focused on Mr. B.

"Yeah. I haven't had much time to deck this place out, but I've got all this stuff from the junkyard. If I pimp out the train cars, make them all stylish, maybe I could rent them out," Mr. B said and put the pen behind his ear.

Jo nodded fervently and unclogged his mouth with more booze. "You could make an experience out of it. You look the part. You could teach people how to chop lumber and make simple furniture."

Mr. B laughed and opened his mouth for Jo to feed him a piece of another cookie as he made some notes. "Oh, man. That's so true! If I just frame it right, get a sleek website, professional photos, I could sell this as 'The Lumberjack Experience'." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Jo grinned and sipped some more of the frui

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