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The letters boldly flashed out above him, as if drawing the reluctant bodyguard closer to the building. In bright neon pink over the door, they spelled a single word. 'PARADISE'. Tucked away within the maze of alleyways that made up Heimdallr's lower quarter, it was rumoured even nobles could be seen slipping in and out of this particular club. And after hours of trawling through the Vermillion Capital, a particular rumour had caught the Vander's ear. A blonde male with a rose and a lute causing quite the scene at one of the city's most famous watering holes.
“Olivier, make no mistake. This time, I really am going to kill you.”
The prince had brought the idea up before of the two visiting the establishment. Mueller's response had been frank. “Not even if you paid me to come with you.” After that, Olivier had fallen silent on the issue. That should have prompted the major's suspicions in hindsight. Well, at least he wouldn't have to scour any further for his companion. Even for a man of the military, traipsing across the capital had been tiresome on his feet. Mueller approached the door, raising his fist to knock, then noticed it was slightly ajar. He heard the sounds of laughter echoing from within, and pushed the door open to walk in.
Rich velvet covered the walls and ceilings. The stairs too, which he began to descend. It was as if he was lowering himself into a portion of Gehenna itself, where the laws and rules of the continent above didn't apply. Emerging into what he assumed was the main area of the club, he spotted the bar to the side, several plush looking chairs and sofas around circular black tables, and a group of spectators crowded near what seemed to be a stage. There was a long metal pole in the centre of the stage, with a catwalk connecting it to the red curtains that presumably led to the backstage. The voices of the audience sounded feverish, excited almost. Mueller could only assume he had arrived in-between acts. A perfect chance to find Olivier, drag him out by the scruff of his neck and proceed to take his fury out on the blonde, whether that be verbally or physically.
The lights began to dim. Mueller felt his throat begin to dry. He had to find that wayward fool at once. He moved between furniture and patrons, certain he'd find Olivier in the throng of that crowd. As he drew near the stage, spotlights began to converge upon the curtains. He quickly pushed his way through the mass, looking and listening for an idiot making a spectacle of himself. Given that so many were now cheering at the edge of the stage, this had become very difficult very swiftly.
As the spotlights merged into one, a leg teasingly slid out from behind the curtain to the whistling crowd. A long, black leather boot came up to the knee of the leg, and strapped to the otherwise bare thigh was a familiar black pistol.
“Oh. Aidios. No. Please no.”
A hand emerged over the leg, seizing the curtain and throwing it aside. There, basking in the gleaming lights from above, was the very moron he had come here seeking.
“Olivier...?!”
He was almost completely undressed. His torso was naked for all to see, the light reflecting over his lithe, smooth chest and abs. He wore purple trunks covered in sequins, like a swimsuit model on display, with a crimson rose tucked between his hip and the gear. His sleek blonde hair was tied in its usual ponytail, and the male relished in the attention the crowd lavished on him as he tilted his head back. Then he plucked the band from his hair, letting it flow freely behind him with a slow, seductive wink to his new fans.
Mueller stared, his mouth agape, caught between anger and shocked. What in the seven hells had he walked into...?
Olivier's hand slid down his body, his fingers dancing sensually from his chest, down his abs and over his trunks to rest on his pistol. Taking it from the holster and raising it overhead, the man fired a single shot. As the bang echoed around the club, rose petals started to flutter down over the catwalk as Olivier began his strut down to the pole, his hips swaying in a tantalising manner for all to see. Mueller found his gaze drifting without even realising, the major caught in the rhythm of the blonde's hips as they shook side to side.
Once he reached the pole, his routine began to the delight of the audience. Olivier took it in one hand as he pressed his back to it, dragging up one leg slowly behind him before proceeding to slide slowly down. He gave a sultry smile to the spectators and motioned a kiss with his lips before hitting the floor with his knees. Turning himself to face the pole while remaining kneeled, one leg hooked around it as he arched the other high into the air, rubbing it against the cold steel teasingly. Mueller stared, captivated by the beautiful smoothness of the idiot's leg.
Grabbing the steel with both hands, Olivier began to stand back up. With impressive strength and flexibility, he lifted his feet off the ground and suspended them into the air, spreading his legs for an especially pleasing move as the crowd wolf-whistled hard. It baffled Mueller. How was this imbecile such a natural performer? He knew every way to excite the audience, to grab their attention and make sure their eyes never lingered elsewhere. His bodyguard included. He couldn't bring himself to look away, as wrong as it all felt.
Olivier settled himself back onto the ground, nestling the pole between his legs as he leaned his head back. He gave a roll of his neck, his hair flowing, with a playful wink to the audience. Trailing his fingers gradually down the side of his body, Olivier reached the rose resting at the hip of his trunks and tugged it free. The man brought it to his lips and kissed the petals softly, before raising his eyebrows suggestively to the crowd. As they cheered, he tossed it forth towards the audience, eager hands immediately shooting up to snatch it for themselves.
Mueller found himself reaching up before he knew what he was doing. He felt the stems touch his fingers, and he instinctively closed them. Bringing his arm back, he saw the very rose Olivier had thrown held in his hand. The audience glanced at him with yells and cheers of approval as Olivier swung his leg around the pole, hanging off it as he indicated Mueller with his index finger. Then he bent it to him, his message clear to the major lucky enough to receive his gift. “Join me on stage.”
Mueller felt his breath hitch. “No.” He shook his head, but the people around him were already forcing him forward. He felt several hands pushing against his back, pressing him reluctantly to the stage. He reached the edge and was made to step up, Olivier beckoning him closer. Captivated in the moment, Mueller found himself stepping closer. Now that he was right up against him, he saw the subtle beads of sweat forming along Olivier's bare skin. The way the light glistened over his sleek body, giving him an almost angelic glow.
Olivier brought a hand over the major's chest, feeling the heavy breaths he was taking. He smiled, pinning Mueller between his hand and the pole as he pressed his body against his guardian's. “Well well, Major Vander.” Olivier spoke, his voice like a gentle melody. “Fancy meeting you here. I didn't think this was how you liked to spend your spare time~”
That familiar, trouble-making tone was what made Mueller's anger rise back to the surface past his confusion. “What the hell is this, Olivier?” He hissed.
“Well, I have such a delectable body, blessed by Aidios herself.” Olivier teased, twisting himself so his back now rested against Mueller as he gyrated his hips against the major, the audience cheering him on. “It's only fair that I share it with the world, is it not?”
Mueller scowled, trying to ignore the pleasure being sent from his lower body to the rest of himself through Olivier's motions, the thrusts and bucking of his hips eliciting a groan from his bodyguard. “Olivier...you're in for the punishment of a lifetime when this is over, you realise that?” While his fury was clear, there was a hint of enjoyment that slipped from his lips as well.
“Why, Mueller dear!” The blonde glanced back with half open eyes, an aroused blushed creeping onto his face. “Are you saying I'm going to get a spanking after this?~”
His guardian grinned as he wrapped his broad, muscular arms around the hips of the svelte blonde. He moved his lips to the ear of the pole dancer, his breath tickling him and making Olivier shudder with excitement.
“You're going to wish you'd gotten one, when I'm finished with you.”