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Summary
The air was thick with smoke, with perfumes, with heat from the sheer amount of people packed into the room as Juno sauntered through it, drawing gazes from everyone as he passed. Men with their ‘lucky charms’ hanging over their shoulders, watched hungrily he sashayed past, his hips swinging with a calculated grace, making his dress ride up just enough to give a teasing glance of his garters as he passed, making mouths water and hearts thud unevenly. The men wanted him and the women? The women were envious, all of them having been in here long enough that their hair was just starting to look frazzled, their make up running and smeared under their eyes, glaring at him as Juno passed, his smokey eyeliner on point and cherry red lipstick, a colour he hated but Nureyev had insisted on, not an inch out of line.
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Just like every good smutfic, there's poker, someone's wearing a dress and they get dirty in an elevator, right?