Author's Note: This is my second try at a Webgott fic! Just like with my other story, I mean no disrespect to Joseph Liebgott, David Webster, or any of the other men of Easy Company. This is a work of fiction based on the characters portrayed by Ross McCall and Eion Bailey in Band of Brothers.

Also, this is a story remade from a previous one with the same plot. It has come to my attention that the original work (in which I was not the author) is no longer available, so this is my take on the idea. Credit for the prompt goes to the original author.

I own nothing!

The Great Depression had hit everyone hard across the country. Well, the less fortunate, anyway.

For the elite few, lavish get-togethers were still organized. The Ritz was still filled with the usual glamorous inhabitants donning pearls and drinking the finest liquor with Elsa Maxwell and Barbara Hutton.

David Kenyon Webster was amongst these few. A renowned author, Webster has made quite a living for himself, residing in a white limestone manor, which was pretty much isolated by surrounding greenery. The New York manor boasted three stories, with up to twenty rooms, decorated with fine art details on every surface. A majority of the furniture and decorations—including the mahogany desk in his study and the chandelier in the main hall—were imported from all around the globe. The extra rooms were occupied by friends or family members of his that visited, but other than that, he lived alone.

While the economy was recovering, Webster's biggest concern was finding a new butler. His former butler, Robert Crest, was found dead in an alley way, a block from a local jeweler's shop. It turns out, he had robbed the place in hopes of scrounging some valuables to sell so he could get money to feed his wife and ailing mother.

David Webster sighed and recounted the day he had gone to the city. People in tattered clothes were starting fires on the sidewalk, digging for scraps in the garbage pails for any bit of morsel to eat... Children held up signs, begging for someone to employ their parents.

A small boy aimed his green eyes at Webster's long coat and polished shoes. He held the hand of a little girl in a stained, gray dress.

Webster looked at the blueberry scone he had just bought for breakfast. Fresh from the oven.

The children were now reading Webster's face, as if to determine his next action.

The wavy-haired man got on his knee to their level and broke the pastry in half, offering the pieces to the little ones.

The look on their faces chipped at his heart: their eyes were wide, skeptical of this act of kindness. One of their stomachs roared. God knows when their last meal was, Webster thought sympathetically.

Before skipping towards the opposite direction from which they came, they gleefully said something to Webster in another language; one that he wasn't familiar with.

Once they were out of sight, he smiled and stood up, dusting off the gravel that had gathered at the hem of his coat.

The boy and girl ran back to an older man in his twenties.

"Yaron! Zara! Where have you been?" he put a hand to his forehead, running it over his brown coif. "You know Ma doesn't want you running off like that again!"

"Joseph? Joseph, what is going on out there?" an old woman's voice came from inside the run down house.

"Yaron and Zara are back," Joseph called back.

The old woman came out and hugged the two kids to her chest. "I was so worried!"

Joseph noticed the two pieces of scone in their hands hanging to their sides.

"Where did you get that?" he wondered.

The last thing they needed was to have someone knocking on their door again to complain about the mischievous children.

Zara, with her rosy cheeks pointed to a tall man wearing a long, black coat and a paisley scarf lighting a cigarette and looking aimlessly at the decrepit buildings with his mouth hung slightly open before checking his watch.

A sense of hatred built up inside Joseph. Who did this snobby, Ivy League-looking guy think he was just coming into an area like theirs and giving out free things? In his eyes, this stranger was just like the rest of the ones up there: parading around the hungry, feigning sympathy in his lavish clothes and material items. He probably gave Joseph's siblings food, convincing himself that he's not one of those people—the ones who don't need to worry about cutting back on their spending or work a day in their life.

He would have confronted the guy, if he didn't feel so tired after helping his father at the barber shop all day and keeping his brothers and sisters under control.

Their shop wasn't big like the one they owned in San Francisco, but they got more clients, so it wasn't all that bad. The only trouble was having five children packed in the same space who have trouble staying on task. Such as the time Yaron and the third oldest son, Henry, used the brooms as swords and "dueled" behind the line of chairs, instead of sweeping up the hair on the floor like they were instructed. Not to mention, the occasional fighting that occurred, mainly between the boys and girls.

Joseph put his cigarette out and glared at the sharp-dressed man before leading his brother and sister inside for supper.

Little did he know that he would end up working for him in the coming week.

"Joseph?" Webster called from his bedroom.

Joseph Liebgott makes his way down the hallway and into the room. "Yes, Mr. Webster?"

David turned his back to his desk and held up a stock of white, lined paper.

"What is this?" he set his icy blue eyes on Liebgott, a neutral expression in his face.

The new butler gulped and tightened his grip on the handle of the soap bucket he was holding. "It's paper, sir."

He watched as his big hand tossed the pile of papers haphazardly on the edge of the desk. "Did I not tell you to pick up my stationary from the paper mill today?"

Again, another gulp.

"Yes Mr. Webster, but—"

"Ah ah ah...," David put his hand up to cut Lieb off. "You don't want to get fired over this, do you?"

"N-No, sir," Liebgott shook his head calmly.

However, inside, he panicked. Not only because he'll have to find another job (most likely one that doesn't pay as well as this), but because he wanted to keep the accommodations he was provided. Since Webster's manor was outside the city, he had arranged to stay in one of the guest bedrooms for the whole week and was granted a day off on Saturdays.

Webster crossed his arms over his chest and gave Joseph a half-smile. "Good. You know I must write my novels on only the finest paper."

It only has gold lines and your dumb initials on the corner, Lieb wanted to say.

"I will pick retrieve them momentarily," he promised, holding up the bucket to remind Webster of the unfinished duty he interrupted.

"Splendid," the taller man opened his desk drawer and pulled a slip of paper out. "And before I forget, I'm hosting a dinner with two friends of mine. I have a list of things I'd like you to get while you're in the city."

Lieb took the list with his gloved hand and looked it over. There were a bunch of food ingredients scrawled on the left margin and instructions to wrapping gifts on the right, along with two recipients: Donald Hoobler and Robert Leckie.

"I'll get it all done today, Mr. Webster," he looked up at David and slipped the list in his waistcoat pocket.

He didn't need to know when the party was, as he was usually notified one or two days in advance of such events. Additionally, the sooner he completed his errands, the more time he could have to himself. Only then could he write a brief letter to his family at home and send them his paycheck.

"Just make sure you leave through the backdoor once you've mopped the main hall," Webster sat back down in his chair and started writing again.

So for the rest of the day, Liebgott cleaned up the rest of the house and prepared the meals for the night, as well as tomorrow's.

It wasn't long until Joseph Liebgott realized he was taking a liking to David Webster. Sure, he was pretentious and very particular about how things were to be done in his house, but he was also sexy.

Liebgott shuddered to himself as the thought crossed his mind. Some days, he wanted to argue with his boss and just hate him... but others? He wanted to kiss him on that open mouth of his and feel himself being held against that muscular frame.

During the dinner party, he didn't even know what he was talking about, but it was the way he was that was so attractive to Liebgott. When the guests happily devoured their meal and complimented it, Webster gladly told them that his new butler had cooked it. Soon after, he added that Liebgott was a very good chef, prompting Joseph to blush and bite his lip from behind the kitchen door.

Liebgott loved how Webster threw his head back slightly as he laughed at their jokes. A strand of his dark locks hung over his forehead and Lieb just wanted to sit next to him and brush it back against his hairline and get lost in his ocean blue eyes.

Over the course of several months, he had grown to love Webster, as the more he was around, it seemed Webster was gradually getting softer and more lenient on Joe, granting him more time off and even getting to know him better instead of eagerly sending him away.

Unfortunately, even Joseph knew that they would never be. What could a guy like the critically acclaimed David Webster see in him? He had nothing to his name. Despite looking like one of Webster's kind, he would only see Liebgott as his servant. Nothing more.

That is, until one night when Liebgott passed Webster's room.

"Web, do you need anyth—"

He stopped when he peeped through the narrow space between the door and the frame.

Webster having returned from one of his meetings, was rubbing his neck in exhaustion. He slipped the cufflinks through the hole on his sleeves and removed his watch.

Something about this hypnotised Liebgott. He continued watching Webster as the latter was now undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

Liebgott licked his lips.

The clinking off a belt being unbuckled, along with it gliding out of the loops of the slacks nearly stopped Lieb's breathing, which—in a way—helped, so he wouldn't get caught peeping.

With Webster's pants off, Liebgott felt his own getting tighter. This wasn't right, yet Joseph could not stop admiring David's tight behind, knowing that the white briefs he had on was the only thing that prevented him from seeing the most intimate parts of a man. Specifically, the man he had fallen in love with.

But it only felt unfair, since Webster had not personally chose to bear all for him. In a way, it was akin to stealing; witnessing something so intimate without his master's knowledge.

Liebgott was about to head back to his bedroom down the hall, when his eyes widened.

With his back still turned to the door, the white dress shirt he had on slipped off his arms, revealing the sexiest back muscles Liebgott had ever seen. His big frame looked infinitely better unclothed.

Though he didn't know what, Liebgott could've sworn that he had done something to draw attention to himself, because Webster looked back.

"Lieb?" he called.

"Oh shit!" the butler frantically thought.

He was looking at Webster's face now so he knows he wasn't just imagining it. He was so fucking fired.

He ran through every excuse he could conjure up: he was checking on him, he had to relay a message to him, he wanted to say goodnight... anything.

Webster picked up his red, silk robe with gold lining and put it on before walking to his door. He swung it open enough just to fit his whole body between the space.

He didn't look angry, just suspicious.

"How long have you been standing there?" he glared questioningly at Liebgott.

But before he could receive an answer, Webster spotted the tent forming in Liebgott's pants.

"Okay now I'm fucked," Liebgott gulped.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to cross his legs or cover his crotch with his hands.

He suddenly felt himself being pulled by the collar of his vest into Webster's room.

Webster pushed Lieb onto his bed and crossed his arms. "I'm waiting, Joseph. Explain yourself."

Lieb closed his eyes and exhaled.

"Please don't fire me," he begged under his breath.

"Lieb," Webster began in a surprisingly calm voice.

He opened his eyes and saw that Webster was now seated next to him. He was too close for Liebgott's liking.

"I know you liked that," he smirked.

"Um, yeah, Web, can't you see I'm fucking hard?" Liebgott scoffed.

He was about to be let go, so no point in being professional anymore.

Webster slithered his hand up Lieb's thigh. "That's not how you talk to your boss."

Shocked, Liebgott looked up from his lap. "So I'm not fired?"

"Truth be told," Webster's hand was now stroking Lieb's bulge very slowly. "I know you love me. And how can I let go of someone like that?"

This can't be happening. Surely, this was a dream.

Liebgott jerked back a little. "Wait... I don't want this."

"You don't?" Web removed his hand, looking disappointed.

This was possible confirmation that what Lieb believed of Webster's motive was false. He couldn't be happier.

"I mean... I don't want to be your whore," his brown eyes met the blue in front of him.

"Lieb, I love you too," Webster blurted out. "I loved you ever since you started here and... I hired you partly because you're easy on the eyes."

Liebgott's cheeks turned pink. He was rarely told this by anyone.

He grabbed the back of Webster's head and pulled him in for a kiss, his fingers raked into his hair.

Webster didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, his hands returning to Liebgott's crotch.

Pulling away for air, Lieb untied the sash of Webster's robe, revealing his hairy chest. His mouth was against Web again before pushing him down and getting on top of him. He kissed his neck before moving down below his abs, taking his length between his lips.

"Oh fuck, Lieb," Webster gasped and held his upper body up with his elbows.

He watched Liebgott bob his head up and down his cock while playing with his balls, causing Webster's jaw to drop.

"Okay, now I'm glad I paid you extra this week," Web teasingly said as he pushed Lieb's hair back.

"You paid me extra?" Lieb looked up skeptically.

"I thought it was time you got a raise," Webster traced Lieb's bottom lip with his thumb.

Now Liebgott stood up and stripped naked in front of a jerking off Webster, who'd slipped out of robe completely and tossed it to the side. Their eyes never diverted from each others'.

He lied back against the big fluffy pillows on the bed, opening himself up to be pleasured.

Web wrapped his open mouth around Lieb's cock, sucking and stroking just as Lieb had done to him. After taking him whole, he moved his lips up focus on the head. He swirled his tongue around the tip, making Lieb moan.

Crawling back up to Liebgott, Webster planted another long kiss on his lips.

"I'm gonna thank you for all your hard work," he murmured against Lieb's ear.

With Lieb's legs far apart, Web lubricated his asshole with his saliva before entering him.

"Shit..." Lieb hissed as he we being filled inch by inch.

He was so tight that Webster's teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, taking extra care to not go in too fast.

Soon, the tensed grimace on Lieb's face turned to a more relaxed and pleased expression.

"Is that good?" Web asked, picking up the pace a little while Lieb jerked himself off.

Breathing heavily now, Liebgott moaned louder. "Fuck, it's so big, Web!"

His gripped onto the top of the headboard tighter the faster he went.

"I'm... I'm gonna cum, Lieb!" he closed his eyes and took in the different sensations he felt throughout his body as well as his partner's.

"Lemme taste it," Lieb stared at Webster with a devious glint in his eyes.

Webster got up on his bed, stroking himself until he came in Lieb's open mouth. "Fuck, fuck... fuuuuuck!"

This only heightened Liebgott's arousal, resulting in him reaching his climax, cumming all over himself.

Tired and glowing, Webster got back down. He licked Lieb clean and lay next to him.

"I love you, Liebgott," he smiled big.

"Love you too, Webster," Lieb cuddled against his chest.