#winix

As soon as they walked in, Dick could feel his attention on him; and he’d found it impossible to pull his eyes away from the dancer in turn. It wasn’t just his graceful movements, or the way the body paint highlighted a very defined shirtless frame. There was an intensity to his focus, something electric and intriguing that Dick felt himself pulled in by from the very beginning.

Now he’s in front of him, Harry having slipped a fifty-dollar bill in his pocket and murmured something that made the dancer’s lips twitch before he headed over to Dick, and Dick is three seconds away from passing out.

The man’s mouth stops moving, and Dick is forced to tear his eyes away from his colorful abs when it dawns on him that he completely missed whatever was just said. “Uhh – what?”

“The rules,” reiterates the dancer, a smile creeping across his face, like he knows a secret Dick doesn’t. “You can look, you can talk, you can pay all you like –”

With a sudden, swift movement, the dancer moves between Dick’s legs, and is suddenly just inches away from his face. Dick has to clamp down on the immediate impulse to slam his knees shut – the last thing he wants is to trap the guy there. 

“No touching,” he croons in Dick’s ear, and Dick is sure he dies a bit.

The man begins to sway over him, tight jeans doing everything to show off the curves of his hips as he grinds to the music. This close, Dick can make out the small scar on the dancer’s forehead, not quite hidden by his mess of dark hair. He can get lost in the inky pools of his eyes, the curve of his jaw, the devilish smirk snaking across wry lips…

He’s so close that Dick can feel him breathing, and oh god, he can’t remember the last time he was this intimate with a person. He’s not even touching him, and this is already the most erotic experience he’s had in months.

(”Years, Dick!”

“It hasn’t been years,” Dick protests, though without much inspiration. Ever since his breakup with his last girlfriend, he hasn’t felt very motivated to go looking for romance. Maybe it has been almost a year since he split with DeEtta, but that;s his own choice. If he doesn’t feel the need to get back out there, he doesn’t see why Harry makes such a big deal about it.

His friend does seem to think it’s a big deal, however, because he was intent on doing this tonight. “So, your goal is to get me to have sex again. Why are we at a strip club?”

Harry flashes the same devil-may-care smile that told Dick he would be trouble the first day they met. “Sometimes all you need is a little inspiration.”)

The man in front of him is nothing but inspiration, in its most intense form. He is undiluted heroin, making Dick’s head reel. He is flame, burning every place their skin almost brushes. 

He’s incredible.

“Remember to breathe,” croons the dancer, sounding absolutely delighted with himself. “You’re turning as red as your hair.”

Dick huffs a shuddery breath. “Isn’t that the goal?”

“Cardiac arrest is something we try to avoid during our shows. It’s not a real crowd pleaser.” There’s an undercurrent to the man’s voice, a silvertongued vein of intelligence flowing beneath syrupy seduction. “Besides, I’d be disappointed to lose you this early.”

A jolt of electricity runs through Dick at the thought. When he pulls his eyes back to the dancer’s face, that smirk is still there. He’s teasing him, he realizes, and even though that has to be his job he looks just playful enough that Dick can’t help replying. “Don’t be too concerned. I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when the man breaks his own rule and brushes his fingers over Dick’s jaw – a feather-light touch, lingering just a second too long to be accidental – does it occur to Dick that maybe this isn’t normal. Maybe making small-talk isn’t something he does with all the customers he gets close to. Maybe teasing isn’t  part of the job after all.

Maybe the man is as fascinated with Dick as Dick is with him.

“Can I call you anything?” he asks, because he needs an opening – any chance to learn more about the captivating man standing over him, more gorgeous than any he’s ever met.

The dancer’s lips twitch in another firebrand smirk. “Nix works,” he replies, and Dick feels another current of electricity course over his skin.