Dancing With Strippers (Ianthony)

Like most crazy and humiliating adventures, it began in a gay strip club.

Ian was taking me out to a "surprise location" for our last night together. He liked to call it my last night of freedom. Yes, it was the last time I would sleep in my own room of the Smosh House, because tomorrow, I was moving in with Kalel. Naturally, Ian decided it was his personal duty to take me out to the most laugh-inducing of all places, hence the gay bar.

I already knew he was gay.

He, the reason we were both partially famous, was gay from the moment I met him. He always stared at me a little longer when I was in swimming trunks, or when I stripped down to boxers to sleep. He laughed too hard at homosexual jokes, as though he was trying to cover something up. He even admitted it to me a couple of years ago. None of this ever bothered me.

It never even occurred to me that he may have had the smallest of crushes on me, because, in hindsight, I was always partially blinded by my own love of the bowl haircut that brightened my darkest days. I honestly loved Kalel in the same way, but... That was just it. But.

I didn't know what "but" was. I loved her regularly-dyed hair, the way she laughed at me whenever I got myself into a particularly humorous predicament, the look in her eyes when it was the time of night when we would "get busy". She was absolutely perfect for me, a designed angel from heaven to save me from my own demise.

But.

Wait. When I said I didn't know what "but" was, I was lying. "But" was the way Kalel would never be, or compare to, my Ian. Ian... I really did wish I could honestly say he was my Ian.

Of course, he could never know that.

So, there we were, enjoying our first round of shots as sweaty guys danced around us and on the main stage in their undergarments. Normally, I would've found their lack of clothing quite disturbing, but I was under the influence of Ian's happiness. He was guffawing at the dancers around us and their not-so-expert dancing skills. Of course, his sense of humor got to me and I began giggly quietly. His laughter was contagious, so within a few minutes we were both doubled over, unable to speak over our increasingly loud snorts of amusement. The near-naked men glared at us and began shuffling off to entertain different people, people who wouldn't criticize their sensual moves.

As soon as I was able to speak again, I jokingly punched Ian in the shoulder. "Good job douchebag. You scared 'em off."

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Bitch, please. I could do so much better at being arousing than them."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? You wanna take it to that level, huh." I leaned in over closer to him and whispered, "If you care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now, you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but give the devil his due. I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul to think I'm better than you."

Ian's eyes lit up at the sound of the lyrics from "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" and he excitedly leaned in even closer than I had dared, his breath tickling my skin. "This boy says, 'My name's Ian and it might be a sin, but I take your bet you're gonna regret 'cause I'm the best there's ever been.'"

Now, you may be thinking about what the fuck just happened. Well, it goes back to a time when Ian and I were in the 7th Grade and didn't quite know each other that well just yet. Actually, it was the first time I had ever gone to Ian's house. Anyways, we were trying to work on some project for a class when Ian's mom turned on the radio and "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" happened to be playing. I began absentmindedly singing it since I knew the entire song because my dad always wanted to play it on the fiddle. He'd play it on full volume whenever it was on the radio and taught me the lyrics until I could sing it by myself with no errors for him to correct. Anyhow, when that song came on at Ian's house, I was singing it seemingly by myself until I heard Ian join in with me. It turns out that Ian's mom danced to that song during her wedding and loved it ever since, which meant she played it in front of Ian a lot. We both were ecstatic that we both knew that song and have recited it randomly ever since.

So, if you didn't quite catch the hidden meaning behind the words, we were both taking up a personal challenge to dance like strippers and completely blow the actual strippers out of the water with our moves.

I kicked off the bet by running over to the main stage (which was conveniently only about three meters from our table) and jumping onto it. The lone dancer on the stage was dressed as a firefighter. He shot me a glare, the stalked off (probably to alert his manager). I smiled. The stage was mine, and mine alone. But, as I looked down to the surrounding tables, I noticed that everyone was looking at me expectantly. I gulped. Shit.

Just as I began to freeze up, I felt another body jump onto the stage. I looked to my right. There was Ian, and he was already taking his shirt off.

Well, what the hell.

I began dancing slowly, teasingly, picking at the hem of my shirt. Ian was apparently uncomfortable with being the only shirtless man onstage, so he quickly yanked my shirt over my head for me. I shot him a look of confusion. He had already turned away from me to face the crowd, but that didn't keep me from noticing his obvious blush. I figured I'd get him back for that one...

I kneeled before him and began unzipping his jeans, which he discarded at the instant the bunched at his feet.

The crowd had begun to cheer us on, and I saw them gather at the sides of the stage. Some were waving bills of cash, clutched in their sweaty fists. Oh, this was really getting good.

Especially since it had just come to my attention that there was a pole in the center of the stage.

I ran hurriedly to the pole. I began grinding up against it, trying to find the right beat. When I decided grinding was getting to be boring, I tried doing one of those exotic dances around the post that was common with twenty year-old women. Apparently I was successful because the audience gathering at the rim of the stage had begun to yell out suggestions.

"Take your pants off!"

"Take his pants off!"

"Fuck him in the ass!"

I felt a smile tugging at the edge of my lips at the last suggestion. Oh, I wish... I let go of the pole to give Ian a chance at trying out his pole-dancing skills. As soon as he noticed it was free, he rushed to it and began swaying suggestively around it. At one point, he even wrapped his tongue around the pole. I hoped someday he would use the same technique on me.

I failed to realize how tight my pants were beginning to feel.

I began taking notice of the one suggestion that the audience was cheering that I agreed with.

"Kiss him!"

"I've got a fifty in for you if you give him a little sugar..."

"Kiss, dammit!"

I began making my way over to the pole where Ian was trying out the same movements as I was earlier. I began dancing against the pole on the side opposite him. Ian had a glow in his eyes and a laugh in his throat. Now was the time to take up the audience's offer.

Our lips met simultaneously. I hadn't realized that he had been going in for the kill at the same time as me. But, as I felt his fingers playing around my hips, I pulled away. We were both smiling like maniacs.

I sure hoped I had remembered to put the sheets on my bed.