Poison (Frerard)

Hotel Rooms

"What can I do for ya?" Gerard asked alluringly, biting his lip.

"How 'bout a lap dance?" the dark-haired man replied, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Anything you want, sugar," Gerard whispered, winking before seating himself on the man's lap. He slowly grinded against him, his ass firmly pressed against the slight bulge in the man's pants.

"I watched you suck that guy off, earlier," the man said breathlessly, bucking his hips involuntarily.

"Like what you see?" Gerard teased, rolling his hips before standing and turning around, palming the man through his pants as he maintained eye-contact.

"You're practically walking porn, if I'm quite honest," the man said in reply, his breathing faltering as Gerard dropped to his knees. He quickly gestured for Gerard to get back his feet, the stripper giving him a confused look.

"Fucking imbeciles..." the man muttered to himself before addressing Gerard, pointing to the Bluetooth in his ear to explain his frustration. "Unfortunately, I've got to run. Maybe you'd like to make a little extra in tips tonight?"

"What do you have in mind?" Gerard asked, though he would've agreed to anything this man had wanted.

"Meet me at the Hampton after your shift," the man offered confidently, flashing a few bills to entice the stripper. "The room will be under Frank."

Gerard expressed his agreement with a simple nod, his body tingling at the prospect of getting this alluring stranger--presumably named Frank--out of his clothes.

As Frank headed towards the exit, Gerard made his way back to the bar. He didn't need anymore tips tonight due to Frank's offer, so he didn't care to continue making rounds.

"Taking a break so soon, G?" Ray teased, assuming the stripper would want more alcohol and pouring him a shot.

"I suppose you could call it that,"Gerard replied with an amused smirk, absentmindedly moving his finger around the rim of his shot glass.

"You're going home with somebody, aren't you?" Ray asked with a chuckle.

"Something like that," Gerard said cheekily, grinning at the bartender.

"You're such a whore," Ray said amusedly, shaking his head and grinning.

"That's kind of in the job description, Ray," Gerard replied, smiling wryly.

Gerard stayed near the bar for the rest of his shift, periodically pretending to work in case Pete was monitoring. The club closed at 1:00, the majority of the customers clearing out by midnight. Gerard helped with cleaning up; he was in no rush to get to the hotel, since Frank had only vaguely requested they meet after his shift was over. Ray was finishing up polishing and shelving the glasses when Gerard told him goodbye, his heels clicking as he headed backstage to his dressing room.

He ditched the corset portion of his lingerie in the laundry bin, it's tightness causing the seams to leave faint red lines on his sides. He pulled on his casual clothes over top, the feeling of wearing thigh-highs under jeans surprisingly very hot. He fixed his eyeliner before strutting back out to the main area, grabbing his keys from his pocket and locking up the place.

------

He pulled up to the Hampton a little after 1:30. He hoped that Frank was already there; he'd feel quite awkward waiting around in a hotel room being paid for by a rich guy just wanting a good fuck.

He stayed in his car for a few minutes, his mind straying to the one thing that always bothered him about these sexual exploits: what he was supposed to do after they fucked. Some clients simply paid him and said he could shower but not stay the night. Some let him stay, a few even wishing to hold him as if they were a couple. Some others would kick him out immediately, shoving money and his clothes at him before pushing him out the door. He knew nothing about Frank other than the few hints of arrogance he saw in the club, so Gerard was clueless as to what would happen to him later tonight. Soon, impatient excitement overtook the slight trepidation he felt, pushing those thoughts from his mind and replacing them with little fantasies about the dark-haired man.