Fandom: XF (M/K)
Rated NC-17 m/m sexual situations and bad language
Archive: Allslash, Archive X, TER/MA, All Things Rat. Anywhere
else, please ask me, first.
Web page: http://members.tripod.com/~ter_ma/aries/aries.htm
Summary: So I'm hard at work, greening the damned baskets for
Easter, talking with my buddy Nela, and for some reason she brings
up the time we went to go see the Chippendale's dancers. We drooled,
we giggled, we ignored the dirty looks cast our way...then she
goes and does me in by saying, I should write a story with Alex
as a stripper....I swear, I'm gonna tape her mouth shut one of
these days.
Disclaimer: But...but....they *feel* like they're mine. Doesn't
that count?
Endless thanks to Nic, Orithain and Sue, for marvelous beta and
squidge. As always, big hugs to the lovely Pat for continuing
to put up with my lunacy. Love you all!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Private Dancer
by Aries
The air reeked of cheap beer and cigarette smoke. The dim lighting
revealed a sparsely populated room. Third Saturday in a row. Curious.
Mulder moved amongst the tables and dropped down into a chair
next to the man who'd befriended him since he started coming to
this place five months ago.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Dead again."
"Yup." The man turned to him. "And it's about to
have two less patrons."
"What d'you mean?"
"I found out why business is dropping off."
"Yeah?"
"Uh huh." The man leaned forward, not wanting any of
the remaining regulars to hear. "The place across town has
a new feature dancer. Word is he's worth the thirty buck cover
charge and then some."
"Thirty?"
"Yeah. I hear that he doesn't fake anything, if you know
what I mean. Come, man. Let's go see what all the buzz is about."
"I don't know, Ray."
"Come *on*! I waited here purposely for you. You *gotta*
go with me. He only dances on Saturday night." The man rose
from his chair, coaxing his companion to do the same.
Mulder sighed. "All right, all right. Let's go see what's
so special about this guy."
His friend gave him the address, and they left in separate vehicles.
Mulder drove in silence to the club, as usual, preferring his
own depressing thoughts to the sound of the radio...
It had been eight months since the fall of the Consortium. Many
of those involved disappeared without a trace; some were found
dead under the most suspicious of circumstances...one showed up
at his apartment three nights later.
Mulder let him in, not knowing what else to do.
He said he'd come to say goodbye and congratulate Mulder on his
well-earned victory. How they ended up naked, with Mulder trying
to fuck him through the living room wall, was beyond either of
them. Not long after, he pulled the still-recovering Mulder into
the bedroom, threw him down onto the bed, and proceeded to give
him the ride of his life.
Sometime in the very early morning, when sheer exhaustion finally
forced them to stop, the two men dropped onto their backs, side
by side, covered in sweat, chests heaving.
Several minutes passed before the companionable silence turned
uncomfortable.
The other rose unsteadily to his feet and began to get dressed.
Mulder asked him where he was going.
"Places to go, a life to find," was the soft answer.
Mulder lay quietly, watching him dress, searching for something
to say, but ultimately remained silent.
He hesitated briefly, said a soft goodbye, then slipped out of
the room, and the apartment.
Eight months later, Mulder hadn't laid eyes on him, hadn't spoken
to him...wasn't even sure he was still in the country...or still
alive, for that matter. And the wondering drove him crazy.
The memory of that night stayed vividly clear in Mulder's mind.
The smell of him. The taste of his skin...the feel of him so deep
inside haunted him night after night. But he'd left, making it
clear that his desires went no further than those few hours.
And now Mulder was left to deal with the aftermath. No help. No
comfort. Certainly no explanation. Not even work offered him any
solace. After the dissolution of the Consortium, there was nothing
left but the usual assortment of mutants, apparitions, and UFO
sightings. Where things such as these had held a tremendous amount
of interest for him at one time, they were simply just another
case for him now.
He began to seek extracurricular distraction, frequenting gay
bars and strip clubs, always in search of that something he seemed
to be missing, but never quite finding it. He settled on one club,
The Blue Moon, and was soon befriended by Ray...the man who was
now dragging him clear across the city to see the new feature
dancer that everybody and his grandfather was talking about. And
the thing that killed him was...he was going.
//Jesus Christ, is your life *so* pathetic?//
He turned into the full parking lot.
//Well...no open spots. Just go home.//
He drove out of the lot and around the corner. There, on the street,
was a space large enough for him to back into.
//Ah, fuck. I guess your life *is* that pathetic.//
He parked the car and walked up to the club. Ray waved at him
from the doorway.
"Jesus, when I saw you drive out of the parking lot, I thought
you'd changed your mind."
"I almost did."
"But?"
Mulder shrugged. "I figured, what the hell? I drove all this
way, I might as well go in and have a drink, at least."
Ray grinned and stepped aside, allowing him to enter first.
The place was nice. Much nicer than The Blue Moon. Bigger. More
seating, but as the place was standing room only, it didn't much
matter.
The two men moved to a spot by the bar, ordered their drinks,
and looked around. They recognized a good number of faces from
their regular haunt, but many more were strangers to them. Mulder
attracted a good deal of attention but ignored the stares and
attempts at conversation.
The buzz in the room grew to a deafening pitch as the clock approached
ten. The excitement took on an almost physical quality, and then
as the stage fell into darkness, the noise stopped. A soft voice,
speaking just a bit above the sensuous thrum of the music, announced
the evening's featured dancer.
"What did he say the guy's name was, Ray?"
Mulder's companion gave no answer. His eyes were glued to the
stage, now just barely lit to reveal a large, wrought iron bed
and nothing more.
Mulder shook his head, smiling at his friend, and turned his attention
to the stage. The lights came up a bit more, and now an object
could be seen resting atop the pillows. As Mulder squinted, trying
to determine what it was, movement out of the left corner of his
eye distracted him.
A man, still drenched in shadow, prowled onto the stage.
Tall. Dark. Not the usual stripper's attire he was used to. This
man looked like he'd just parked his motorcycle outside and walked
in off the street. There was an arrogance to his demeanor that
sent a surge of electricity straight through the middle of Mulder's
body, hardening him to the point of discomfort. The reaction shocked
him. He hadn't felt a charge like that since *him*.
//Shit, and he hasn't even done anything yet. Okay, so maybe he
*will* be worth the cover charge.//
Slowly, the stage came into focus, and Mulder's attention was
drawn away from the man, back to the bed and the object which
was now clearer. His eyebrows drew down into a distinct frown
as he realized that the object was a stuffed fox. Not a cheap,
dimestore toy but a finely crafted, as-real-looking-as-you-can-get,
stuffed fox. Mulder's eyes darted back to the man who was now
beside the bed, moving in time to the music, sliding his hands
over his body and up through the hair that was longer than Mulder
remembered it.
//Alex.//
His lips hadn't moved...he was sure that no sound had left his
throat, yet the name resonated in his head as though he had screamed
it. He stood motionless, watching as the man on stage slipped
out of his black leather jacket and let it drop to the floor.
He moved to the bed, lifting one leg and kneeling on the mattress.
He grasped the wrought iron footboard and thrust his hips forward,
rubbing and grinding his crotch against the bar. The pale spotlight
fell across his writhing body and face, that beautiful, beautiful
face, contorted in near-orgasmic pleasure.
Mulder's cock throbbed in his pants, matching the rhythm of the
pounding in his head. His breath caught and held in his throat
as the performer spun onto the bed, lying on his back with his
head toward the foot of the bed. He spread his legs, straddling
the pillows atop which sat the fox. He writhed and arched his
back, taking hold of the crew collar of the black t-shirt. His
fingers tightened in the material, then pulled, ripping the shirt
down the front. His hands roamed over his bared chest and on down,
moving to the prominent bulge in his skin-tight jeans. He stroked
himself through the denim, then rose to his knees in front of
the fox. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, undoing the
button and drawing the zipper down. Slowly, he did away with the
jeans and the rest of his clothing, then turned and lay back against
the pillows, his head nestled next to the stuffed animal. He teased
himself and the crowd, bringing one hand to a hard nipple, pulling
and squeezing, while the other stroked his rigid cock.
The audience held its collective breath as his movements became
more frantic and loud gasps could be heard above the music. Faster,
his hand pumped the long shaft, and the gasps became cries as
he arched off the bed and came, shooting up over his fist and
stomach.
Mulder watched entranced as the fatigued man collapsed back onto
the mattress. He rolled onto his side, winding his arm around
the fox and burying his face into its side, as the stage faded
into blackness, and the audience erupted into thunderous applause.
"Ho-ly shit," Ray shouted, whistling and clapping enthusiastically.
He glanced over at his companion, who stood stunned, staring at
the black stage.
"Hey!"
Mulder blinked and turned around to face his friend.
Ray laughed. "Guess you're glad now that you came, huh? He's
incredible, isn't he? No wonder everybody is down *here* on Saturdays.
But I wonder what the deal is with the stuffed animal?"
"Don't know," the bartender heard and responded. "But
it's in every set with him. It's got *some* meaning, but he never
says what."
Mulder finally found his voice. "Do you...do you do private
dances here?"
"Oh, yeah. There are rooms upstairs."
"Does he do them?"
"Who? Alex?"
"Yeah...Alex."
"Yeah. But he don't come cheap. And there's always a list
a mile long for 'im."
Mulder chewed his bottom lip. "What's he going for?"
"Are you shittin' me?" Ray roared. "You're actually
thinking about doing this?"
Mulder looked from Ray to the bartender. "So?"
"Seventy-five bucks for ten minutes. That's just for a dance.
*Extras* go for a hundred and ten. Rooms range from twenty-five
to two hundred an hour."
"Thanks."
"Hey!" Ray called after the retreating man. "Where
are you going?"
"I'll catch you later, Ray."
Mulder exited the club, only to return half an hour later. He
walked up to the bar and asked to see the owner. The bartender
pointed him to the middle-aged man in the blue suit, speaking
with a couple of waiters. He approached and waited politely while
the man finished giving his instructions to the pair. When they
walked away, he stepped forward.
"Excuse me."
The man turned in Mulder's direction and looked him up and down.
A wide smile curved his mouth. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like to arrange for a private dance."
"Sure! Anybody in particular?"
"Alex."
The man laughed. "I don't even know why I asked. He gets
ninety-five percent of the business, and the other five percent
take other guys because they're too horny to wait. Uh...I can
put you on the list. Might be a few days..."
"Not good enough. I want him tonight."
"Yeah, you and everybody else in this joint."
"What's your price?"
"Alex goes for..."
"I know what he goes for. I want him for two hours..."
"*Two* hours?"
"....and I want your best room. Tonight."
"You're talking seventeen hundred, normally. If you *gotta*
have him tonight, I'm going to have to double that. At *least*.
You know the amount of people this is going to piss off?"
Mulder counted off five thousand dollars and left it on the table
beside them. "Do you care?"
"Uh..." The owner looked down at the pile. "Not
really." He pulled a card out of his pocket. "Take this.
Show it to the guy at the top of the stairs, and he'll show you
to your room. I'll have Alex in to you soon. Have a good time,
and just keep one thing in mind. He doesn't like to be touched."
Mulder took the card, nodded to the man, and proceeded up the
stairs. Minutes later, he was sipping a glass of wine in the largest
and most elaborately furnished of the four rooms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Forget it, Howard," Alex lounged in the comfort of
his dressing room, his hand absently petting the stuffed fox that
rested on top of the back of the sofa.
"What d'you mean, forget it? This guy dished out some major
green for you, Alex. He's waiting upstairs."
"Nobody but fat, greasy businessmen from out of town throw
out the big bucks. And for two fucking hours? I'm sure as hell
not going to be dancing all that time." He gave a slow shake
of his sable head. "No way. You remember the last time? I
told you I wouldn't let any of them touch me again, and I meant
it. Now, if you have a problem with that, I'll just walk right
now..."
"No. No, no. You don't understand. This ain't no fat, greasy
businessman. Believe me, I've learned my lesson. It's a miracle
we didn't get sued for what you did to that guy. This one's young.
Your age, maybe. Fucking gorgeous. You just might enjoy it."
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed softly. "Okay.
But I'm telling you, Howard, if he so much as lays a hand on me..."
Howard grinned. "That's my boy."
Alex rose from the sofa and walked to the closet, pulling out
a pair of black pants and a black silk shirt. "I'm not your
boy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mulder sat quietly in the sparsely lit room. His eyes rose to
the door as it swung open. The man entered, eyes cast downward.
He closed the door behind him and walked directly over to the
CD player.
"How about some sound?"
No answer.
"Okay, I'll just take that as a yes." He loaded a few
disks, and almost immediately, the air was filled with soft music.
He closed his eyes, immersing himself in seductive rhythm. His
body began to sway ever so slightly, and he took a long, deep
breath and released it. "What do you want me to do for you?"
"I don't know," the soft monotone startled Alex. "What
does five grand get me?"
Alex whirled around to face the owner of the voice he'd recognize
anywhere. His eyes registered his shock. "What...what are
you doing here?"
"Friend of mine told me about this dancer. Spectacular,"
he said. So I came down to check it out. His eyes slid over Alex's
body. "He was right. You were magnificent. So magnificent
that I just had to have a private performance."
Alex shook his head. "What do you really want, Mulder?"
The seated man shrugged. "I told you. I want you to dance
for me. I want to see all those sexy moves up close." He
raised his glass. "Come on. I want your best performance.
I've certainly paid enough for it."
"Mulder..."
"Hmm?"
"Go home. I'll ask Howard to refund your money."
"Oh, no. No way. You're bought and paid for, for two hours."
"You don't want to do this."
"Yeah...I do. Come on. Show me what scores of horny men are
waiting in line for."
Alex stared down at him, restrained anger and hurt glittering
in his eyes. He backed up a step and began to dance, never taking
his eyes off of Mulder's. The fingers of one hand went to his
shirt, slowly undoing the buttons, while the other raked through
his hair. When the shirt hung open, he turned his back to his
one man audience, jerking the shirt down, leaving it to hang from
his forearms, curving just below his waist.
Mulder watched every move...every flex of every muscle in that
nicely sculpted back as his dancer gave him a show he'd tuck away
in his memory, right beside that one night they'd spent together
so many months ago.
Alex spun back to face him, hand dropping to the waistband of
his pants, slowly undoing the button and pulling the zipper down,
as he stalked toward Mulder. He stopped inches away from the seated
man's spread legs and turned again, slithering out of the black
pants.
Mulder sucked in a quick breath, fighting against the urge to
reach out and touch the tight, tanned ass that moved so enticingly
before him. Just before he lost the battle, Alex turned around
again and pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his shirt, whipping
the garment at Mulder's face. The shirt dropped in a heap to his
lap, and he made no move to touch it. His eyes remained glued
on the pools of glimmering green as Alex danced before him now,
clad only in a black g-string.
Alex closed his eyes, unable to meet Mulder's heated gaze, as
he launched into the next part of his performance. Starting at
his shoulder, he licked a long, steady path down his arm, ending
with the back of his hand. The hand slid away from his mouth,
across his jaw, turned, and continued down his throat, chest and
belly, then brushed against the bulge which was barely covered
by the scrap of black velvet. He moved forward, straddling Mulder's
lap, and holding on to the back of the chair with one hand, he
began a lewd bump and grind, just inches from his audience's face.
Mulder looked up, seeing a tiny sliver of green beneath the veil
of thick lashes. The perfectly bowed lips were pulled back in
a sensuous snarl, making visible the sparkling white teeth behind
them. Mulder's eyes dropped shut for a moment as he remembered
the feel of those teeth clamped on his flesh...
He focused again on the man in front of him, who now had his hand
inside the black velvet, stroking and squeezing himself.
That was it.
He shoved Alex away and toppled the chair as he rose out of it.
He reached out, circling the stunned man's wrist, and jerked him
forward against his chest.
"What?" Alex panted, only millimeters from the other
man's mouth. "Had enough?"
"Oh, no," Mulder threw back. "This isn't even close
to being over. I don't mind paying top dollar, but I do want my
money's worth. Every. Cent."
"Then let me go so I can continue."
"Answer a question for me first...why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you out here doing this?"
Alex shrugged. "I used to come in here quite a bit. Had a
few drinks, danced with a few guys...Howard came up to me one
day and said he liked my look. He liked the way I moved, and he
asked me if I ever thought about making a career out of it. I
figured, what the hell? Might be good for a few kicks...wasn't
like I had any better offers."
Mulder's jaw repeatedly tightened and relaxed.
Alex rocked his hips from side to side, brushing his cock against
the crisp material of Mulder's pants. "Come on, you're fucking
up the mood..."
"Kicks? You're telling me that you do this for kicks."
"Yeah...and you know...the money ain't bad."
Mulder eyed him intently. "Looked like you were enjoying
the hell out of yourself, earlier. You always so into it?"
"Yeah. I guess."
"Tell me what it is you get off on. What do you think about
when you're up there?"
He saw the slight change in Alex's expression.
"I don't know..."
"You must know. Are you thinking about how every eye in the
place is on you? Does it make you hot to know that those men would
kill each other for a piece of you?" Mulder's hand slid over
the hard curve of Alex's ass. "Or is it the thought of just
one man that gets you so hard?"
Alex's gaze dropped to the point between them where skin met cocoa
brown shirt. "Didn't Howard tell you the rule? No touching."
Mulder's fingers dug into the tight muscle. "Yeah, he told
me. But it doesn't really apply to me, does it?"
No answer.
"Come on, Alex. Tell me. I want to hear you say that it's
me you're jerking off for, every time you're up there."
Alex continued to avoid his eyes. "Can't say that."
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't you."
"No?"
"Nope."
"Fucking liar. That fox you have with you in every performance
is more than a little obvious."
Alex spat out a harsh laugh. "Get over yourself, Mulder."
"Why? Apparently, *you* haven't gotten over me."
"It was one damn night," Alex argued. "What was
to get over?"
"It affected you the same way it did me," Mulder whispered,
brushing his mouth against Alex's cheek. We were both just too
stupid to admit it."
Alex pushed away from him. "God, are *you* way off track."
He glanced at the small clock on the table in one corner of the
room. "You've got a little more than an hour left,"
he said softly, then walked over to the bed. He seated himself
at the edge, then slid back against the pillows. One hand swept
down his chest, pausing to brush slowly over a nipple. "Come
over here and let me give you your money's worth. Just don't tell
Howard. If word gets out, the customers'll all expect the same."
Mulder stood with his back to the man on the bed. He stared down
at the floor for long moments, then shook his head. "Get
dressed."
Alex cocked his head, not quite sure he'd heard correctly. "What?"
"Get dressed. It's my time, and I'll decide how to spend
it."
Alex heaved himself off the bed, bumping Mulder's arm with his
own as he brushed past him.
Mulder turned, nonchalantly shuffling though the CDs, while Alex
put his clothes on. Once fully dressed, he moved quietly toward
the door.
"Where are you going?"
The younger man looked at him, anger dissolving into confusion.
"I thought..."
"Don't think, okay?" He removed the CD that Alex had
put in the player and replaced it. "Just come over here."
Alex approached, stopping at least two feet in front of the other
man. Mulder curled his fingers in the front of the black shirt,
and pulled him forward. When their bodies were touching, Mulder's
arms slipped around his waist.
"You've danced for me," he moaned against Alex's lips,
"now how about you dance *with* me."
Tentatively, Alex's arms circled around his neck, and they began
to move together, one body fitting perfectly to the other.
One of Mulder's hands slid down a few inches, rubbing and gently
squeezing Alex's ass, pulling him against the solid heat of his
groin. They rocked together with flawless precision, each man
holding the other captive with his eyes. Somehow, Alex managed
to gather enough composure to ask a question.
"What is this?"
Mulder's eyelids drooped as he drew a long breath and let it out.
"What's what?"
"This. One minute you want me to give you everything I've
got, then the next, you tell me to get dressed, and we're here
doing what we could be doing downstairs...and it wouldn't be costing
you five grand."
"I just...I suddenly realized that I don't want to fuck you
in the upstairs room of a strip joint, leave a fat tip under the
pillow, then go home and leave you *here*."
"You make it sound like I *live* here. I don't, you know,
I have an apartment. A very nice one."
"I didn't mean...I just...." Mulder's head dropped forward
so that their foreheads rested together. "Alex, I'm sorry.
I was just so pissed at you for leaving that night. When I saw
you here, I didn't know how to react. That fox really knocked
me for a loop. I thought all this time I was the only one thinking
about what had happened. I got pissed again when I realized that
you apparently had some feeling for me, you knew damn well where
to find me, yet you chose to stay away..."
Alex bowed his head. "I thought I should. I mean...I don't
hang around if I'm not asked to."
"I know. I should have opened my mouth. I tried, but nothing
would come out. I screwed up. And now I'm here, screwing up again."
"How?"
"I should never have gone about it this way. I just should've
gone to you and asked to talk. I didn't mean to hurt you by *paying*
for your time."
"You didn't hurt me."
Mulder gave him a dubious stare.
"Okay, maybe you hurt me a little. It's okay." Alex
rubbed his cheek against Mulder's. "You fixed it."
Mulder shook his head. "Not yet. Let me make it up to you."
"It's all right, Mulder..."
"Fox."
"What?"
"I'd like it if you called me Fox."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"All right..." Alex brushed his lips across the other
man's. "...Fox..." His mouth opened, prompting Fox to
sweep inside, stroking and probing the soft interior.
Fox moaned into Alex's mouth. Eight months later, he was amazed
at how his body remembered the taste of this man. His tongue sought
out its willing partner, tangling with it, then drawing back,
allowing it access to his own warm interior.
Alex explored Fox's mouth at a leisurely pace, drinking in many
a whimper. His hands began to move, one tangling in his hair,
and the other gently caressing the length of his back. Their bodies
continued to sway together as Alex slowly backed him to the bed.
Fox pulled away from the demanding mouth. "No. Alex, wait."
Alex stopped moving. "What....Fox...you want me, don't you?"
"*God*, yes. But *not* here. Come home with me, Alex."
He took a quick breath. "And I don't mean just for tonight."
Alex frowned slightly, cocking his head. "For how long?"
"As long as you want to be there."
Alex studied him for a moment. "What about this?"
"What about it?"
"What if I want to keep dancing?"
"Do you?"
".....No. After the first night, I realized I was just doing
it to let off steam. I was so fucking frustrated."
"I know. I went to shows for the same reason."
"Didn't help, did it?"
Fox shook his head. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here."
Alex looked over at the clock and grinned. "Your time isn't
up yet."
Fox followed his gaze. "That's okay. It's bad enough we've
wasted an hour and forty minutes." He took Alex by the hand
and led him to the door.
"Your place or mine?"
Hazel eyes glittered with anticipation. "Which is closer?"
"Mine."
"Yours it is."
The two men descended the steps, fingers intertwined. Alex led
the way through the crowd, drawing the attention of every man
in sight. Seemingly oblivious, he pulled Fox toward his dressing
room.
"What are we doing here?" Fox asked, once they were
inside.
"Just got to get a few things, then we can go see Howard."
"He's going to be upset. You're his star."
Alex gathered up his jacket, a few objects from the dressing table,
and his stuffed fox. He walked up to the man standing by the door,
pressing their bodies together. He rubbed his head against the
underside of Fox's jaw. "Don't want to be *his* star."
Fox kissed the top of his head. "Let's go."
They exited the room, having to wind their way through the crowd
that had assembled near the door. Alex kept moving, holding on
to Fox's hand, keeping him close behind.
No one touched him. They knew the rule and adhered to it. Touching
Alex would get the offender banned from the club for a month or
more, depending on the severity of the transgression, and no one
was about to take that chance.
Alex spotted Howard at the other end of the club near the bar
and made his way toward him.
"Howard.....Howard!"
The man turned around. Spotting Alex, he checked his watch. "What
are you doing down here already?" His eyes fell to the stuffed
fox. "And why are you carrying that thing around?"
Alex pulled Fox up beside him. "Uh...Howard...I gotta talk
to you."
Howard looked from one man to the other. "Alex, what did
you...sir, do you have a complaint?"
Fox burst into laughter, then wrapped an arm around Alex's waist,
pulling him back against his chest. "My only complaint at
the moment is that this is taking too damn long. Let's go,"
he growled into the back of Alex's neck.
"Okay, okay," Alex whispered. "Uh, Howard.....I
quit."
Howard broke into laughter, then began to choke when he realized
that Alex wasn't kidding.
"You...you can't! Alex, please! What the hell happened in
the last two hours to make you decide..." His gaze flicked
to the man who had wrapped himself around his star performer.
"Oh. Oh, shit. Listen, Alex, whatever he's offered you, I'll
double it. I'll build you a bigger dressing room...anything you
want, only please don't leave me."
"Howard, listen. It's not what you think. I'm not leaving
you for another club." Alex shrugged. "I'm retiring."
"*Retiring*? Alex, what the hell went *on* up there?"
Howard turned his irritation on Fox. "What did you do to
him?"
"Nothing."
"*Nothing*? You come in here, throw five grand down and tell
me you *need* to have Alex tonight. I graciously oblige you, and
*this* is what happens?"
"Howard, shut up a minute, would you? Let me explain."
"Explain? What's to explain? My star is quitting on me...my
business is toast...my life is over..."
"A new dancer comes along every day. You'll find one better."
"Yeah...right."
"Howard, you know how you're always bugging me to tell you
why I'm always so unhappy and dissatisfied?"
"Yeah..."
"It was because of him." Alex motioned with his head
to the man behind him. "We were separated, and it drove me
crazy."
"So you knew each other."
"Howard.....this is Fox."
"And this should mean something to me?"
Alex shook his head. "Are you that dense?"
"Shit!" The bartender heard and understood. "Fox,
Howard....*Fox*."
"Christ, is that really your..." Howard glanced down
at the stuffed animal that Alex hugged to his chest. "Shit!
Oh, shit!"
"Took you long enough."
"Do you know how long people have been speculating on the
significance of that thing? Jesus." He went back to whining.
"Okay, I'm glad you're back together. Take a weekend off...go
away together and have a great time on me, but...Alex....*please*....why
do you have to quit?"
"It was never something I felt comfortable with in the first
place."
"You could have fooled me...and everybody else in this place."
"I gotta go, Howard."
"Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God..."
"Breathe, Howard, breathe. It'll be okay. I'll see you around."
Over the span of that five-minute conversation, news of Alex's
retirement had spread like wildfire, as did the resolution of
the 'fox' mystery. A sea of disappointed faces lined their path
as they left, some graciously wishing him well, others simply
displaying desolate stares as the men walked toward the back door.
"Hey!" A lone voice sounded in the crowd, turning a
number of heads.
Fox stopped, pulling Alex back to his side. "Ray!"
As the other man wound his way through the mass, his eyes opened
wider, and his jaw dropped lower. "Shit!" He looked
from his friend to the man who had held him entranced not more
than three hours before. "Hey, man, I just heard..."
he looked again at Alex who was now standing pressed against Fox,
cheek resting on his shoulder, hand stroking up and down his arm.
"....holy shit...."
"Ray. Listen, buddy, I gotta thank you for making me come
here."
"Yeah...uh....you're welcome....I guess."
"I don't know if I'll see you again, so..." Fox held
his hand out. Ray grasped it limply, and they shook.
"Listen...man...I gotta ask you something. Can we..."
Fox allowed himself to be led a couple of feet away from his lover.
He looked back, holding his index finger up. Alex nodded, his
attention never wandering from Fox, despite the attempts from
members of the crowd to get him to look their way.
"So...it's you? This whole fox thing?''
"Apparently."
"All this time and I never even knew your first name. Damn."
Ray shook his head. "So, let me get this straight. You two
were involved at one time?"
"Yeah. We...lost touch."
"How the fuck could you lose touch with *that*? Were you
on medication or something?"
"It's a long, complicated story, Ray. Just suffice it to
say, we're back together, and it's due in large part to you."
"And that's it? He's quitting, and the two of you are just
going to ride off into the sunset?"
"It's night time. But, yes, we're out of here. Going to see
if we can get it right this time."
"God. Okay, well, good luck. I wish you the best, buddy,
I really do." Ray laughed. "You know, this is the first
time I've ever seen you looking happy."
Fox nodded. "I gotta go."
"Oh...yeah...by all means. I wouldn't want to keep him waiting,
either."
Fox gave his friend another nod and a smile, then turned and made
his way back to Alex. Once he reached his destination, he pulled
the younger man up against his body, and laid a long, hungry kiss
on his lips.
"Ready?"
Alex ground his crotch against Fox's hip. What do *you* think?"
"I think it'll be a miracle if we make it out of the parking
lot," the older man muttered under his breath. "Let's
go."
Once outside, they made straight for Alex's car and stopped at
the driver's side. Alex unlocked the door, and stored the items
he carried inside. He turned to the man who stood quietly beside
him, eyeing him with restrained hunger. "Where's your car?"
"I couldn't find a space in the lot, so I had to park around
the corner."
"Well, come on, I'll take you to it."
Fox folded himself into the sportscar, complaining good naturedly.
"Jesus Christ, Alex, is this thing small enough?"
"Yeah, I know. But it's so cool..."
Alex pulled out of the back lot reserved for employees and drove
around the corner to Fox's car. The other man reached across the
seat and slowly ran his hand from Alex's jaw, down to the very
warm bulge in his pants. He kneaded Alex's cock gently, heard
the soft moan, then gave him an evil grin and moved from one car
to the other.
Waiting until Fox started to pull away from the curb, Alex drove
off, leading the way to his apartment, which turned out to be
less than ten minutes away. He parked his car, and as he was getting
out, the Ford sedan pulled up alongside.
Fox killed the engine and stepped out of the car. The minute the
door was closed, he found himself pressed up against it and a
solid heat pushing against his ass. A warm, moist tongue feathered
the back of his neck.
"Keep that up," he murmured, "and we're not going
to make it up to your apartment.
Alex pressed rhythmically against his backside in turn, pushing
him into the door.
"Alex..."
"Hmm?"
"Wouldn't you rather be doing this while we were both naked?"
"Sure. I'll take my clothes off if you take yours off..."
"I meant upstairs."
"Oh. Yeah, I suppose." He pushed against Fox once more...hard,
then grasped his hand and led him to the elevator. They spent
the forty-five second ride kissing hungrily and groping each other.
As soon as the door opened, Alex pulled Fox out and down the hall
to his door. He shoved the key in the lock, threw the door open,
and yanked the other man inside.
"Nice," Fox murmured, wandering through the living room,
looking around.
"Yeah. How about a tour?" Alex grabbed Fox by the front
of his shirt and headed out of the room. "Let's start with
the bedroom." He hauled Fox in through the open door and
shoved him back onto the bed. In a heartbeat Alex was on him,
sprawled over his chest, feeding voraciously on his mouth.
Fox reached up, tugging at the buttons on Alex's shirt. Alex began
to reciprocate, but at the third button, changed his mind. He
pulled away from his lover's mouth and grinned down at him. There
was evil on his mind, Fox had no doubt of that.
"*What*?"
Alex rolled to his feet, pulling the other man up after him. He
left Fox standing by the bed while he loaded the portable CD player
that he kept on his dresser. As soon as the room filled with soft
music, he came back to Fox, planting a fast, fierce kiss on his
lips, then he leapt onto the bed. Settling back against a stack
of pillows, he reached into his back pocket, pulling his wallet
out.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Alex smirked at him, pulling a bill out and tossing it at him.
"Take it off, baby."
"What?" Then he realized. "Oh, no. You're out of
your mind."
"Why?"
"I'm not dancing for you."
Alex pulled out another bill and tossed it in his direction. "Come
on..."
"Alex, I don't dance."
"Bullshit. You were moving pretty damn well at the club.
Gave me a hard-on the size of all outdoors. Now, let's see what
you got."
A five fluttered past Fox's face. "Alex...."
Still seated on the bed, Alex swayed in time to the music. "Let's
see how you work that ass, baby."
Like a charmed cobra, Fox began to unconsciously mimic Alex's
movements. "I'm not going to do it."
"Yes, you will," Alex's voice lowered to a throaty purr.
"Let me see what you see when you watch me. Come on, do it
for me."
Fox took a slow, deep breath, and as he released it, his eyes
closed and he began to move.
A smile curved Alex's lips. Mesmerized, he watched the sensuous
ebb and flow of muscle beneath his lover's clothing as he glided
around the room, undoing first one cuff of his shirt, then the
other. He spun, facing the bed, and slowly rotating his hips,
raised his hands to the button that Alex had stopped at. He held
his lover's eyes as he started to slip the small disk through
the hole, then paused. Another bill floated his way, and he gripped
the material, jerking his hands in opposite directions. There
was a brief tinkling sound as buttons flew everywhere, hitting
the dresser, the wall, and finally the floor.
Alex clapped and whistled softly, encouraging Fox to continue.
And he did, ripping the shirt from his body, and tossing it away.
He backed up to the end of the bed, kicking off his shoes, then
going to work on his pants. The top button gave quickly, but he
inched the zipper down at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping and
starting...drawing it halfway back up after he'd had it all the
way down. Finally, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband, and
shimmied the material down his lean hips at the same infuriating
pace at which he'd done his zipper.
Alex's cock pounded in his jeans, and he fought to keep his respiration
even. He wondered if this was what all those men felt...if it
was what Fox felt tonight, when he was on stage, performing. He
refocused on his lover, who was now standing with his back to
the bed, slipping his pants and socks off, giving Alex a very
nice view of his ass, still encased in a pair of black boxer-briefs.
Fox straightened up and turned to face Alex once again. His arms
crossed loosely behind his neck, and his body rocked and swayed
in time to the music, earning another flurry of cash. His hands
slid along the base of his neck, to his chest, and on down, thumbs
circling his nipples briefly, before continuing down and breaking
away just before they reached the impressive bulge in his underwear.
He kneeled at the end of the bed, then dropped to his hands, crawling
forward as Alex enticed him with a twenty, dangling from his thumb
and forefinger. When he got close enough to take it, Alex quickly
stuffed the bill down the front of his already unbuttoned jeans.
Fox gave the other man a wicked grin, then lowered his head, grasping
the zipper in his teeth. He pulled, and tugged, and worked the
small piece of metal along the track, until it reached the end.
He nosed his way past the worn material, stopping to nuzzle the
soft scrap of velvet that barely covered Alex's erection. He stopped,
hearing the soft moans of pleasure, and clamped his teeth onto
the bill. He pulled it out and dropped it to the mattress beside
the younger man's leg. In a series of fluid movements, he was
on his back, head nestled against Alex's cock, and was writhing
out of his underwear.
Alex took a number of deep, steadying breaths, trying desperately
not to touch Fox, to let him set the pace, but his resolve was
compromised a bit more with every twist...every thrust of his
hips.
Fox sensed Alex's difficulty and lifted himself away, turning
again to lay on his belly beside the younger man. He grasped a
pillow, folding it in two and stuffing it under his hips.
Alex stared, slack-jawed, as Fox proceeded to rock and thrust
into the pillow. He raised his upper body, supporting himself
on his hands, and bore down again and again.
"Jesus Christ," was all the stunned younger man could
whisper as he watched Fox literally fuck his pillow. When he could
take no more, he yanked his clothing off, then pulled the pillow
from beneath Fox's hips. "You want to do that," he gasped
and lay flat on the mattress, "do it to me."
With little more than a clipped growl, Fox fell on him and positioned
himself.
"Wait..wait."
"For *what*?"
Alex tangled his fingers in the golden-brown hair. "I want
it hard, and I want it fast...we need lube." He reached across
the short distance to his nightstand drawer and pulled from it
a long white tube. He quickly unscrewed the cap, squeezed a large
amount into his hand, and pulled Fox up far enough to reach his
cock. He applied the gel, ignoring the faint moans, then threw
the tube back into the drawer. "Okay, baby. Do it."
Fox guided his cock to the small opening and inched inside. Alex
gasped with every thrust, and once he was completely embedded
in the tight heat, he began to move, doing it just the way Alex
had asked him to. He held his lover's hips in a bruising grip
and rammed into him again and again.
Alex's head pressed back into the pillows, and he cried out in
pain and pleasure. His fingers wrapped around his own cock and
began to milk it frantically, knowing from Fox's own anguished
moans, that he was just seconds from orgasm.
Fox pounded furiously into his lover until he felt the explosion
take him over. He fell onto Alex's chest, screaming and gasping
for air. He felt Alex's hand still moving between their bodies,
then the warm gush of fluid, as his choked cries filled the room.
As soon as Fox gathered the strength to move, he rolled off of
Alex, taking his place beside his lover's warm, satiated body.
Alex kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and smiled
wearily at him.
"I'm going to call Howard tomorrow."
"Huh?"
Alex laughed softly, reaching over to his wallet and pulling the
remaining bills from it. He tossed them into the air, letting
them float down over Fox's perspiration-covered body. "I've
found my replacement."
Fox smiled and tucked himself into Alex's side. "Shut up."
"I'm serious. You'd make a killing...can I be your manager?"
Tired sigh. "Yeah...sure. Whatever you want."
Alex kissed him again and yawned. "One thing, though....no
private dances."
"No?"
"Uh-uh." He wrapped an arm around Fox, pulling him closer.
"That card is permanently filled."
END