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The club is bustling with patrons and Will is grateful to slip into the crowd. He takes up a seat at the bar and doesn’t make eye contact with the man behind it when he orders a whiskey on the rocks. When the drink is slid across the bar to him he nods his head toward the bartender, drops some cash on the counter, and takes a sip of the smooth liquor. It burns a bit going down but not as much as the cheap booze he keeps at home. He enjoys it, and with his free hand yanks up his hoody a bit to shade his face.
A few men and women throughout the evening try to talk to him. One woman in particular sidles up to him, brushing up against his leg. She leans in to say something suggestive that doesn’t even register. He shakes his head at her and politely shoos her away before he orders another drink and turns his eyes to the crowd.
He should be at home resting, his throbbing shoulder reminds him of that, but instead he stays firmly planted in his seat. Will takes another drink of whiskey and watches as people dance with each other, a couple of the strippers weaving in-between them. The alcohol dulls his gift, makes it easier for him to look at a room without knowing something about the people in it. It is a nice break from working on the police force and being dragged to crime scenes even though he’s still healing from a gunshot wound to the shoulder.
It gives his brain a much needed break, so he finishes his second glass and orders another. The warmth settles into his chest and moves outward as he starts into the third and he is comfortably fuzzy. He decides it will be the last one before he leaves and goes home to his dogs, so he savors every sip.
I’ve got a bad boy and that’s alright with me; his dirty laundry is nothing that I can’t keep clean. And when he needs an alibi, he can use me all night.
The song gets his attention and his gaze is drawn to the stage. One of the strippers he’d noticed earlier, a smaller man with thick black hair and a distinct face, currently works the center of the stage. No one really seems to be paying attention to him and Will almost redirects his attention, until he realizes he can’t. There’s something about the way the music moves through the man on the stage that draws him in and traps him.
Ooooh, what’s the fun in playing it safe? Oooh, I think I’d rather misbehave. Your way.
He’s seen this particular stripper before, but never like this. Not even the few dozen people watching seem to phase him as he moves to the music. Will watches as the man’s hips move, his ass revealed by the tight black thong he’s wearing. There’s a light sheen of sweat and a beautiful flush to his skin as he dances and Will swallows hard when he realizes the effect it is having. His gaze travels up along the man’s side, watching as his ribs expand with every breath as he dances and moves.
I’m just a bad girl, that’s why we get along. Won’t make excuses for anything I’m doing wrong. I’ll pull the trigger in a flash. Watch out honey, step back.
When Will’s gaze finally lands on the performer’s face he finds that his eyes are closed and he’s lost in the music. There’s something appealing about how oblivious he is to the rest of the world. The music fades away in his mind and all he can see is the man on the stage. He sees long night spent alone after finishing up at the club. The man doesn’t drink, which is surprising because all of his compatriots do, but there’s something about it that keeps him sober at all times. There’s an insecurity there that Will picks up, but he understands that when this particular song plays the insecurity is bearable and he can just dance.
He’s staring long after the song is over and another stripper has taken to the stage. The only thing that jogs him out of his thoughts is the gentle tap on the bar from the bartender asking if he wants another one.
“No, thanks,” Will replies quickly and pushes his empty glass to the man. He leave a tip and stands to leave before he turns and finally makes eye contact with the bartender. The other man almost looks surprised by the direct attention. “What was that stripper’s name? The one before this one.”
“Frederick,” the bartender’s maroon eyes shine curiously in the dim lighting of the bar, “did you take a shining to him? He really is magnificent when that song plays.”
“Uh,” Will hesitates and shrugs, “I was just curious, nothing more than that. Thanks for the drinks.”
He heads for the back, in the direction he knows the dressing rooms are, but hesitates at the hallway. Of course he can’t just walk down there and try to find the other man. It doesn’t make any sense. With a sigh he rubs his forehead and decides it is time to just go home. He walks toward the back door and exits the club, breathing in the chilling night air. However, something to his left makes him jump and he turns quickly, the hood falling off of his head.
Standing against the wall is the stripper from earlier, Frederick, staring at a pack of cigarettes thoughtfully. Frederick looks up when he hears Will and gives him a curious look before a blush spreads across his face and he shoves the pack of cigarettes into his jacket pocket.
“I’m trying to quit,” he explains without really needing to and Will just nods and glances at the ground before back up at Frederick, “I’m not doing a very good job.”
“I have an off and on relationship with cigarettes,” Will admits as he takes a hesitant step closer to the other man, “I’m, ah, Will. I saw you dancing.”
Frederick blushes even more, if that is possible. He’s got a pair of jeans on now, and a t-shirt, all concealed beneath a black jacket. Will is only an inch or so taller but somehow the other man seems so much smaller than he was on the stage.
“Frederick. I’m not a very good dancer.”
“That’s not true,” Will blurts out and his cheeks heat with his own blush as he takes in the look of surprise on the other man’s face.
“Well, I’m glad you think so, I guess.”
“You really like that song.”
“Yeah,” Frederick looks at Will curiously, “yeah, I do. There’s something about it that makes everything a little easier.”
The other man looks like he’s trying to figure out if there is something he should be doing other than talking. Will wonders how a man like the one in front of him got into this business.
“Do you want, uh, something, extra?” Frederick grimaces and looks away.
“You’re not a prostitute,” Will points out gently, “so no. I just, wanted to let you know that you danced really well. I’m a cop, anyway.”
“That doesn’t stop many cops,” Frederick replies and finally makes eye contact again, “but you’re right. I’m not a prostitute.”
They stand quietly for a few moments, the sounds of Baltimore drifting by and filling the space between them. Will takes another step forward anyway and Frederick watches him.
“I’m drunk,” Will admits, though he’s more heavily buzzed than drunk. It is an easy excuse for what he wants to do, “so I’m not exactly thinking straight.”
“It is okay,” Frederick replies and steps forward enough to grab the front of Will’s jacket and pull him closer, “I’m really happy someone liked my dance.”
“You should have seen the way the crowd was watching,” Will breaths, uncertain as to why exactly he’s responding this way to a man he’s never really paid attention to before, but all he knows is he wants to kiss him. Something he understood about Frederick while watching him dance sank into his bones and left him with a strange, unfamiliar yearning.
“I try not to think about the crowd.”
“I’m going to do something stupid,” Will admits after a beat of silence.
“That’s okay, I do stupid things all the time.”
“Good.”
Will leans in and presses their lips together. At first, Frederick is a bit stiff and awkward beneath his attentions. So Will wraps his arms around the other man’s waist beneath his jacket and pushes his hands under his shirt to touch heated skin. Just like that, Frederick melts. His body relaxes forward into Will’s and his lips part as a needy sound escapes them. Will presses forward, pushes Frederick up against the wall as his tongue licks into the other man’s mouth. He knows he tastes like alcohol, but Frederick tastes like cinnamon and he groans as he rolls their hips together.
The other man’s hands move to Will’s hair, fingertips buried in the curls as they kiss. There’s something exciting about kissing a complete stranger, especially one as receptive as Frederick, and Will hopes he doesn’t feel like a moron in the morning. He draws his fingertips up along Frederick’s spine as far as they will go before the man’s shirt keeps him from touching more. Their hips grind together again and then Frederick breaks the kiss and tilts his head back with a soft gasp that’s music to Will’s ears.
“I don’t normally do this,” Will mumbles against skin as he kisses hungrily at Frederick’s jaw and down his neck.
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that,” Frederick replies breathlessly, though Will understands it is a tease as the other man’s fingers drift down to rest against the back of his neck.
Will presses his face into the curve of Frederick’s neck and inhales, the scent of a pleasant aftershave filling his nose. He smells like a creek, damp and earthy as it runs through an old growth forest. It is a smell Will could get lost in and almost does, until Frederick touches his shoulder and a sharp pain courses through him. He flinches away instinctively and Frederick looks panicked when they make eye contact again.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Will answers and shivers a bit when Frederick gently strokes his fingertips along the side of his neck.
“You’re hurt,” Frederick observes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Will glances back at the man and sees a strange compassion he doesn’t understand. So he leans in and steals another kiss, which Frederick moans softly into as he winds one of Will’s curls around his finger.
“I should get back inside.”
“Probably.”
“I’m going to have to go finish up my shift,” Frederick hesitates, “you should come back sometime.”
“Yeah, I should,” Will answers as he takes another kiss before he steps away and wonders if it is just the alcohol that’s making him lightheaded or something more.
“Bye Will,” Frederick says and lingers for a moment before he walks over to the door, punches in a code, and disappears.
Will stands and breathes for what seems like the first time in ages.