Work Text:
“Wow,” Stiles said, considering, as the stripper took off his pants, left only in shiny, gold shorts as he then proceeded to grind against the pole.
“If only this wasn’t a gay strip club,” Lydia sighed from where she sat beside Stiles, giving the stripper a thorough look over.
“There’s a straight one for women right around the corner.” Stiles reminded her.
“Shush, I’m here to be your moral support. You just got through a nasty break-up, and I know I can be mean, but I’m not so cold hearted that I’d leave you high and dry,” Lydia sniffed, looking slightly offended.
“Lydia, you’d be leaving me to all these gorgeous men. It’s okay, seriously."
Lydia contemplated that for a moment before she looked over at Allison, who was still watching the man on stage, who at this point had pulled his gold shorts dangerously low on his front, showing just a peek of the hair that was beneath the shorts.
"Okay, then. Allison, let’s go.” Lydia stood up, then huffed as Allison slowly got up behind her, eyes never leaving the stripper who had now turned his back to the shouting, whistling crowd and had thrown off his shorts, his bubble butt clear in the harsh stage lights. “Bye, Stiles, have fun! I know we will,” Lydia winked over her shoulder, then pulled Allison along, who was waving goodbye in a mournful manner to that beautiful butt.
Stiles stifled a laugh into his drink as he watched his two best friends leave the strip club, looking up at the stage, sad to see the butt disappear back behind the gold shorts, and then stripper turn around with a bow, leaning over to get his discarded clothes.
The loud speaker came on then, a boisterous voice loudly exclaiming the name - the obvious stage name - of the next performer, getting the crowd of men riled up as their favorite left the stage, giving the new stripper coming on stage a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“This man, gentlemen and gentlemen, is ALL muscle, ripped abs, and a face that just won’t quit. You’ll be wanting to be get your mouth all over him once the night is done."
Stiles rolled his eyes at the announcer, didn’t bother looking up from his drink, even when the crowd started whistling and hollering. The last guy had been very good looking, true, and had had gorgeous, bright green eyes, but Stiles just hadn’t been feeling it too much.
But Stiles couldn’t ignore the noise of the crowd as they got louder, starting to stand up from their tables to get nearer the stage, and Stiles had to see what all the fuss was about.
And felt the breath leave his lungs at the sight before him.
Holy motherfucking christ on a cracker.
The man on stage was definitely all the announcer had said and then some.
He was wearing a cops uniform, but he’d taken off the shirt, showing off his rippling abs, his big muscles, his glistening-with-sweat chest, but the tie was still on him, as well as the cop hat. He was gyrating his hips slowly, seductively, hip bones jutting out.
And his face. Fuck, his face. It was...fuck, it was beautiful. Dark stubble perfectly shaved, a thin, straight nose, dark hair that just peaked out from the cop hat, eyes that looked to be green or blue from where he was sitting, he couldn’t quite tell, and Stiles…well, Stiles was transfixed. He couldn’t look away.
The stripper then took off the hat, tossed it into the crowd, and Stiles got a clear look at his face, and with that dark head of hair, he just look all the more beautiful.
Stiles swallowed as the stripper slowly took off the tie, then let his fingers wander down to his pants and tease at the button.
Fuck.
Stiles’ breath was coming fast, was already feeling his pants tighten and boy was Stiles screwed.
But Stiles was truly fucked when the stripper looked up, and somehow, someway, looked through the crowed and locked eyes with Stiles.
Something electric passed between them in that moment, from all the way across the room, and as he walked slowly toward the poll, he didn’t take his eyes off Stiles, and all of the sudden it felt like the man was doing this for Stiles, was strippingjust for Stiles. And those eyes were definitely hazel green, Stiles could see that clearly now.
Yep.
Stiles couldn’t breathe.
When he finally ripped off his cop pants, he threw them into the crowd, right at Stiles.
Stiles’ cheeks burned bright red as he caught them, looked up with wide eyes.
The man only winked, his gaze red hot, sending tingles all over his skin and making him shiver.
He didn’t take his eyes off Stiles through the rest of his act.
Stiles was so fucking done for.