Blinding neon lights, incoherent chatter, deafeningly loud dance music, scent of sweat and sex, taste of alcohol in the air. Mindless bodies moving with and against each other, slurred 'I love you's and scattered kisses, liquor-stained breath meets lust-tainted flesh. The uncontrollable primal instinct to hold someone close and dance as one, separate and together at the same time. Joseph can no longer tell if he loves the club for these qualities or hates it. Yet, he finds himself there every single weekend, 10 p.m. to 3 a.m., getting drunk out of his mind and dancing with whoever will dance with him. He's not normally picky, but tonight wasn't normal. His eyes were trained on the man that had just walked in. Out of all the attractive people in the room, he was standing out to Joseph. He didn't know if it were his voluminous blonde hair, his body-complimenting outfit, or the strange marks on his cheeks, but he had Joseph's full attention from the moment he walked in.
"Do you know who that is?"
"Yeah, he's a regular," the bartender, Lisa, said.
"I mean, does he have a name? Do you know him?"
"Oh! His name is Caesar, and I think he's coming over to you right now," she finished, wiggling her eyebrows and walking off to make another patron's drink with a simple, "Have fun, use a condom."
The other regular made his way to the bar, nodding at Joseph.
"I've seen you here a lot," Caesar yells over the music. "You dance well."
"Yeah, I'm here every weekend. Why don't you let me show you some moves?"
"Only if you'll buy drinks."
"Deal."
One drink became three. Three became five, and Caesar decided he was finally ready to dance. Joseph grabbed his hand and led him gently to the dance floor. The once reserved Italian was freed by the alcohol, allowing his lust for the British-American man to shine through. Their bodies moved to the beat, working together to attract one another. Soon, their lips moved in sync, crashing into one another in an attempt to gain dominance. Caesar grinded on Joseph, urging him to do the same. Joseph had had more than enough. Caesar was teasing him relentlessly, and now he wants to take him home. Who wouldn't? It wasn't like Joseph got a chance to be with someone this attractive often. So, like any normal person would do, he grabbed Caesar's hand, led him out of the club as quickly as possible, and hailed a taxi.
The backseat of the cab was overflowing with sexual tension. And not long after the men stepped inside the front door, Caesar was pinned down on his bed, with Joseph preparing to make that night something neither of them could forget. He would be damned if this strange man ever forgot about him.
There was something comforting about Joseph. Caesar felt safe talking to him at the bar, dancing with him on the dance floor, and lying under him while being showered with wet kisses and pillow talk. He even felt safe enough after their rendezvous that he could fall asleep, which was uncommon for him. He actually slept. And if you asked him, he'd tell you it was the best goddamn night of sleep he's ever gotten.
Joseph squinted, groaning. The sun was shining directly into his eyes, and his head hurt like hell. He turned over, hoping to get a small nap in, feeling his phone buzz under him. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize he was not in his own bed, and there wasn't just a couple of pillows next to him, but a half-naked, grown man beside him, sleeping peacefully. Last night was a blur for him. All he remembered was drinking and dancing. Nothing more. He did, however, faintly remember the man's name. Caesar. Though he didn't agree to it, his job was calling him away from the bed. But, hoping to meet him again, he left Caesar a note.
Dear Caesar,
Sorry I had to leave, I had to go to work. If you want to talk sometime, here's my number.
xxx-xxx-xxxx
Thanks for last night :)
Hopefully I'll see you soon,
Joseph Joestar.
