Chapter Text
The vast expanse of inky blackness darkened as the night went on. The sun rays had long disappeared over the horizon to be replaced with thousands of stars. A light breezed rustled the leaves. As Thomas looked up through the tree branches, it was easy to believe it was endless, that it went on forever. Unfortunately, the peace that Thomas had felt at that moment soon wore off when he heard Minho's voice echo through his mind, snapping him back to reality. "Come on Thomas! They're waiting for us in here." The thick, heavily muscled Asian guy folded his arms as he nudged his head towards a building with flashing lights.
Thomas gulped and felt his pulse quicken. "Is this the place where Alby asked for his stag night to be held at? A strip club?" Thomas asked mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. He did not feel very comfortable around strip clubs, in fact, he was feeling rather anxious now. Minho shrugged and threw his arms around Thomas' shoulders and said, "Well that shank is getting married tomorrow after all. Consider it as his last request." He chuckled and seeing the uneasy expression that was on Thomas' face, he added, "Anyways, you swing for a different team but you still play ball, don't you Thomas boy?"
Thomas elbowed Minho in the stomach playfully, who he had his face scrunched up in pain. Thomas clapped his best friend on the back, who muttered, "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you." He smiled nervously at the entrance to the club. From the outside, Thomas couldn't see much through the glass doors or the tinted windows. He felt his dinner churn in his stomach. Thomas turned to face Minho, "Dude, I'm gonna have to sit out of this. My stomach doesn't feel too good and-" He was cut off when Minho slapped him on the back, causing him to lunge forward. "Thomas, slim it and try to have a good time with me and the rest of the boys."
Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. He knew he shouldn't give in to the pressure, but he decided that he was just going to hang out at the bar for the night. Plain and simple. Not nerve-wracking at all. Thomas sighed in defeat, "Fine. Don't try to force me into anything though." Minho grinned at him and guided him inside. A wave of cold air greeted them as they stepped into the smokey room. When Thomas' vision cleared, he saw that the smoke was artificial and was spewing out of two machines in front of a raised platform shaped like the letter 'T'. There was a metal pole in the middle of the platform, and leather love seats were around it.
Thomas heard a shout and moved his gaze from the platform to whoever that was shouting at the two of them. He saw a dark-skinned boy that was sitting at a table waving at them with a big grin on his face, saying, "Oi! Thomas, Minho, over here!" Minho gave Thomas a glance, probably checking to see if had passed out on the spot yet. Thomas faked a big grin and feeling satisfied, Minho and Thomas walked towards Alby and the rest of their friends. After greeting each other, Thomas spaced out as he studied his surroundings. There were waitresses walking around, carrying trays of beer while the group seated the nearest to them were dressed in business suits. Thomas wondered what they could be here for until he realises where he actually was at that moment.
Thomas heard Minho and the others erupt in laughter as Winston told a joke, and he felt a hand a hand on his back, the laughter slowly dying down. Thomas twisted his body back to the group, who was getting out of their seats. His face scrunched up in confusion as Minho pressed a glass full of beer into his hand. Thomas questioned, "Wait- where are you guys going?"
Minho winked at him and said in a tone that was meant to reassure him, but failed miserably, "Don't worry, Thomas boy. We're going to check out some ladies over there." He nodded his head towards another raised platform a few meters away from the one they were the closet too. "You can stay here if you want. If that makes you feel better." Thomas gave an anxious grin and held up his glass of beer, "Yeah, I'll be fine." Minho gave him a final smile before he walked off to the others.
Thomas sighed and sipped his beer. He knew he won't be able to get through the night without at least a couple of drinks, or something to distract him. Thomas ran his fingers through his hair, noticing people taking their seats around the 'T' shaped platform. He sat up straight, maybe there was going to be a stand-up comedian to tell them jokes or something. He glanced around, then looked up when the lights dimmed. Thomas took a big gulp of his beer, he was already getting fidgety and it wasn't even half an hour yet.
Suddenly, an announcement boomed out through the club, "Introducing the special act of the night: The Glue."
Thomas narrowed his eyes and took another gulp of his beer. The fuck kind of stripper name is that, he thought, clearly not amused and clearly very nervous. Even though he felt anxious, he was still curious, even though he expected a stick of glue to walk out in some skimpy g-string. Thomas shuffled around on his seat when the spotlights pointed towards the stage entrance, and he saw the special act steps out. Thomas had almost dropped his drink, but thankfully his other hand was fast enough to catch it. He thanked his fast reflexes from running at that second.
First, that stripper was a guy. Second, that guy had blonde hair, and he looked like an angel. He was dressed in some sort of get-up, which involved a very tight fitting tank top and equally tight pants. Thomas shakily took another sip of his beer, before putting it down on the table totally, trying and failing horribly to take his eyes away from the Glue, who was walking down the stage. His hands reached for his drink again, and he took a gulp before setting it back down, doing all of that without his eyes leaving the Glue who was circling around the pole int he center of the stage.
Thomas did not have much experience in the stripper department, but he could easily tell that the guy was different from the ones that Minho and the others were watching. And it wasn't just about his gender. Thomas watched as the stripper removes his tank top he's wearing slowly, almost tauntingly as his eyes flicker to meet Thomas', causing the latter to flush red in the dark room. Thomas looked away at first when the guy finally had his top off, then he remembers he's at a strip club and you're supposedly meant to look them. When he turned his eyes back to the stage, the stripper was taking the metal pole in one of his small hands and circling around it a few times, glazing his eyes over everyone before looking back at Thomas. In the spotlights that were shining on the stage every few seconds, Thomas saw a small smirk forming on the Glue's lips.
Thomas felt his face turning redder by the minute, and he reached over to take a big gulp of his beer. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy and his jeans felt far too tight at that moment. Thomas watched as the Glue slid around the pole, performing the act he's clearly recited many times prior to tonight. Thomas continued to fidget in his seat, especially when he noticed that his glass was empty, his hand conveniently covering his crotch. And at that moment, Minho came back carrying more drinks and noticed that his friend was way different than he was at the start of the night, more laid-back and casual. He narrowed his eyes and tapped on Thomas' shoulder, hoping that he did not get the wrong guy. Thomas turned around, and when Minho noticed the position his hand is at and how red his face is, he averted his eyes, but not without letting a small laugh slip, "I knew you'd have a good time."
Seeing Minho, Thomas turned back towards the stage and shushed his best friend, holding his hand out to grab the drink. He lets his eyes run over the Glue's thin frame that was glowing under the club's spotlights as he continued to work the pole. Thomas' lips felt dry and his heart was pounding fast. He turned his head back towards Minho, who was still standing there. Thomas sees Minho gesture towards the stage and he frowned, not sure about what he means. Thomas turned his eyes back to the stage and motioned for Minho to talk, and he does, "Come on, Thomas. Get closer and stop ogling from afar because we came here to enjoy ourselves. Treat yourself."
"You know what, Minho?"
"What?"
"You're right."
Thomas got up from his seat and walked slowly into the light until he was stood behind the crowd of people surrounding the Glue on stage. By this time, Thomas had abandoned his drink totally and he can just see him through the spaces between people, but it wasn't enough. He glanced around and managed to take a spot which was slightly further away from the stage, but he still at least could see the guy work on the pole with a clear view. Thomas' heart skipped a beat when the Glue stopped his pole work to make eye contact with him again. He felt his face go red again and for the next few minutes, the Glue glanced at him a few more times.
Thomas' heart was beating fast and hard. In fact, if someone managed to hook speakers up to his heartbeat, he was pretty sure that the whole world would be able to hear it. Thomas saw the light go back to its usual brightness again, and then the Glue winking at him before hopping off the stage. His heart fell and he ran his fingers through his hair. Thomas closed his eyes for a while and opened them again to see Minho standing in front of him, speaking rapidly, "Dude, we need to go. Gally's puking everywhere and-"
Thomas blurted out, "No!" stopping Minho mid-sentence. He blinked at him for a few seconds before stepping back, "Five minutes then."
"Make it ten." A British accent filled Thomas' ears, making Thomas turn to look around at the Glue who was obscenely close and unbelievably gorgeous.