Stripper! Hank - Crack RP with Yoshi <3
3 years had changed the eldest son of Venture...there he stood, his blond mop just grazing his slightly more developed shoulders...a small black mask hiding his baby blues as they waited for their cue
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Shore Leave>>>Pfft! No need for formality, there Sampson! But to answer your question - oh good LORD, yes! Let's just say, you've never seen 'em like THIS! BOOM!
Shore leave felt the need to add with a little pelvic thrust. And with that, he stepped into the "Oscar Wild-Life", motioning Brock to follow like a good little soilder.
...where Hank was still rockin' the pole, in nothing but a tiny mask and even skimpier panties.
Luckily, 3 years and a mask had fooled Shore Leave...
Shore Leave took his usual seat fairly close to the stage, and patted the seat next to him for Brock (who probably had the ugliest look on his face, Shore leave wasn't really looking at Brock anymore)
Shore Leave>>> Well, I wasn't lying! And before you get in a tizzy, they DO have lesbian acts from time to time...but in the mean time, have a drink and enjoy the view. I know I will be...hey, Blondie! Swing some of that love my way! BOOM, yummy!
Shore Leave trailed off, already fishing for a 10 for the little, blonde cutie in the banana hammock.
Said little, blonde cutie was too...FIXATED licking and working the pole to catch a good glimpse of who had taken the seats up front. If he had, he wouldn't have "swung his love" anywhere NEAR Brock Sampson.
But he hadn't...so he did.
And unfortunately, that little mask TOTALLY effed up his periferal vision. So even when Hank's crotch was DANGEROUSLY close to his freakin' FATHER figure, he stil had no idea...his eyes were locked on the tipper in the gay sailor suit.
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Brock said following Shore Leave slowly to the front of the stage. He was in no mood to watch any sort of junk rubbin. Espeacially after another shitty day of dead ends and false leads.... but a drink did sound good. He placed himself down beside Shore Leave, watching the small transaction take place in the even smaller bannana hammock. Getting an eyefull of this stripper swinging his butt rhythmically back and forth in front of him and Shore Leave. Than swinging about gracefully, for a stripper, grinded against an invisible pole in front of said gay sailor. Sampson's eyes however trailed up from the bulge in the little blonde's up to his face......
he bit his lip as he continued to gaze up at this young male's moaning face, erotic posture and shiney body. God, could they get enough oil on this kid? He looked so young, a least somewhere around Dean's age. Probably the outcome of some miserable life. Yet, as he starred, he couldn't help but feel as if he'd seen this guy before. Which was ridiculous because Brock would usually never BE in a place like this, but something bugged him. He couldn't place his finger on it as he watched him dance back to the pole, leaning against it, backing into it, and shimmy downwards. The mask was throwing him off. He turned to Shore Leave.
Brock>>> Just order me a bud so I can go. I don't need a friggin lap dance from a 19 year old kid.
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...wasn't it?
Hank mentally shrugged it off and slid down the invisible pole until he was on the stage floor on all fours, looking up at Shore Leave under those isty-bitsy eye slits in fake longing. It wasn't hard to look convincing as soon as he pushed the mystery man out of his mind and pulled Dermott back in it.
Dermott would TOTALLY give him a 20 if he was here for this!
Shore Leave managed to yank his eyes away from the...saucy little, blonde, devil on his knees (boom, yummy!)...so he could roll them Sampson's way.
Shore Leave>>>Oh, puh-lease. You mean after spending all that time with Hunter you're still a walking pile of testosterone? C'mon, you can't even TELL with some of these trannies! I guess there's just no pleasing SOME people...
Shore Leave sighed, digging for his wallet in his own tiny shorts again before standing up...he honestly meant well. He just had know idea what guys like BROCK...liked!
Shore Leave>>>I'll be right back with your "bud"...don't go anywhere...ya got a name, sweet-heart?
Hank, not wanting the man with the wallet to walk AWAY with said wallet, stood up and hooked his thumb into the waistband of his panties seductively.
Hank>>>You can call me the 'Hankinator'...
And that's when Hank made the biggest mistake he could have possibly made. But between the blarring 80's music and the plastic mask, he was practically deaf and blind. Especially to WHO was sitting before him in the front row!
So how was he to know that taking off his mask and tossing it to Shore Leave was the biggest mistake he could have possibly made?
But as soon as he did, and got that eye full of Brock-Mother-Lovin'-Samspon...he knew.
Oh sweet LORD how he knew! Oh God! Oh...oh HELL! OH FUCK!
Hank>>>BROCK?!
Hank stumbled backward, white as "uncle Pete", until he was back on the floor again in a crumpled mess. There was a lump building in his throat. He wanted to cry, but that dumb lump was getting in the way of any sound he could make.
Why, why, why, WHY was Brock Sampson HERE?! Why NOW?! Why not 3 years ago when he NEEDED him?!
His father's stinging words from their last fight echoed in his brain: "If Brock could see you now, he'd leave all over again!"
Hank tried to swallow the lump and budding tears down, but he couldn't. He could only sit on the floor and wait for ANY reaction from his mentor and hero...who had just totally watched him slut-it-up for some quick cash!
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Brock>>> HANK!!!
He stood up like lightening as he watched Hank stumble over onto his kiester and stare up at him with disbeleif. The bulky blonde could of sworn he heard glass shattering through the pulsing 80's music. Mind swarmming with questions. Hank had been here? ALL along? STRIPPING!!? How could he degrade himself, where was he living,? WHAT WAS TO STOP HIM FROM CUTTING EVERY MAN'S THROAT IN HERE WHO GAWKED AND HOLLERED AT HIS TIMID LITTLE NAKEDNESS!?!? Unfortenatley, Brock didn't want to admit it, but timid was the last thing Hank was.... espeacially now.... And nothing proved that like being the main attraction at a strip joint. He shook his head, trying to kill any questions he'd be asking himself and directed all of his attetion towards Hank, back to full body guard mode. And objecive number 1, guard Hank's body from the hungry eyes of horny drunken men.
Brock>>> Hank, c'mon! We're leave'n!
He said standing up and taking off his jacket, knowing Hank would need to look decent.
Well, What else COULD he say??? He sure as fuck wasn't gonna let Hank keep dancing. Not after 3 years of worry, guilt, and some mild depression. FUCK no!
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How could he let Brock SEE him like this?! Why the hell WAS Brock here, seeing him like this?! What was he doing at a gay strip joint anyway- he didn't think that Dean was back there, and this was some kinda "twin act" did he?! Brock was probably so disgusted with him...it was hardly his fault! It was BROCK'S FAULT! Brock was the one who LEFT HIM ALONE all those years ago! How was Hank supposed to become the slick, secret agent without Brock's guidance? WELL?!?!
Hank was barely aware that his lips were moving, and he was saying all of these thoughts aloud inbetween broken-hearted sobs and hic-ups.
He couldn't even hug Brock for comfort...it had been too long. He didn't know what would happen. If Brock would let him or...want Hank to touch him at all.
Shore Leave was next to bold out of his chair - watching the Venture kid that his old friend practically RAISED and LOVED like his own, pouring his little heart out before them in his vulnerable state. The smoldering sex in the air was gone just like that.
Needless to say, Shore Leave was completely disgusted with himself. Not "boom yummy"...not in the LEAST!
Shore Leave>>>T-that's little Hanky Venture!? Jesus Christ...Brock I would have never-I didn't...shit, first Hunter now this, I'm so sorry I...I'm gonna get you that drink now...
Shore Leave slinked away, at a complete lost for words for once in his life.
Hank meanwhile, was wiping his soaked face with Brock's sleeve in an ill-attempt to collect himself and not look like such a friggin' BABY in front of his idol...when Brock's words finally penetrated his brain.
Leaving? Going back to- no....NO! Hank had no idea how much Brock knew, but...but he just COULDN'T go crawling back to the Venture Compound!
Hank>>>Brock, please...PLEASE don't take me back to the Compound! You don't understand! I ran away 3 years ago...it's not my home anymore!
Dermott was his home now...he couldn't let Brock drag him away from Dermott to go back to being kidnapped, tortured and neglected!
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He took Hank under his arm, leading him out the door and pushing anyone who had anything to say about it out of the way. No.. he wouldn't take Hank back there.
Brock>>> Hank I'm not take'n you back there, just outta here!
Hank hiccupped...then nodded. He believed him...he believed in Brock. 3 years didn't change that at all, apparently
But, that's when the bearish looking bouncer ran after them
Bouncer>>>Hey, hey, HEY! FRANKEN-MULLET! Where the FUCK do you think you're DOING?! This guy givin' you any trouble, Hankinator?
At last he had pulled Hank out of the strip club, a few stray dollars falling behind them, that is until he heard the loud footsteps of.... Ho, shit THIS guy again!???
He spun around breathing angrily threw his nostrils, letting go of Hank to crack his knuckles in his fist.
A vain angrily twitching in his neck as he landed a punch straight into the guy's jaw.
Hank managed to collect himself before Brock did any more damage to his...well, OTHER body-guard in a way. Kenny had pushed some drunk and hand handsy fellows around for Hank’s sake before…
Hank>>>Wait, Brock stop! He's cool...Kenny...Kenny, I'm fine, it's COOL! This is my um...this is my father.
He figured "father" would be easier to explain than "ex-body guard"...plus, it just felt more natural to say
Brock stopped wailing on Kenny at the mention of the word.
But he let go of the tight grip he had on the man's shirt and let him go and he stepped back beside Hank.
Hank>>>Look...he's just kinda...tense after seeing me up there...WORKING, ya know? And I gotta leave early...family emergency. You understand right?
It could have been a spur of the moment name Hank come up with to stop the violence... but Brock hoped it wasn’t.
Kenny glared at Brock...he had heard his Hankinator rant about his "pop" before...he sounded like a prick. But he nodded.
Kenny>>>Yeah, that's...that's fine Hank. Hope everything's ok...let me know if you need anything.
Hank paused...well, since he mentioned it
Hank>>>Actually...could you be a lamb and let me borrow your cell-phone? I gotta call Dermott...
Hank looked over to Brock
Hank>>>...you remember Dermott right?
Brock's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.... he wasn't sure what he was more suprised over, the fact that DERMOTT had been fucking lying to him from day 1 when he had gone to his place for leads on Hank, or the fact that Hank referred to the fluffly farm animal as a term of endearment!
...well okay, he could believe Dermott lied to him... but he had to be a man now. And that meant he could kick his fuckin ass for it.
Brock>>> yeah
Brock>>> Yeah I remember
Hank>>>Well...do I really need to do the whole "coming out" thing after my performance tonight?
Hank coughed...even though he guessed Brock had it figured out...it was still uncomfortable to lay out on the table
Brock... shook his head. Oh. So that’s how it was. Hank and Dermott were....
Brock>>> Uh, no... No Hank.
Hank>>>...ok then.
He ran a thick hand threw his hair, trying to think of what Hank was going to say to his.... boyfriend.
God...
Hank coughed again, before plucking the phone out of the equally uncomfortable Kenny's hand.
And he dialed the number and waited for the familiar gruff (but sweet...to HIM anyway) voice to pick up on the other line.
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