"Senses tellin' me you're lookin, I can feel it in my skin..."
"Salem, Salem, Salem! Just hear me out okay? Just hear me out." Seth grabbed at the other boy's hand to keep him there, and it worked like a charm. "What if we just, you know, like tried something out? Nothing permanent! I mean it could be though, but it doesn't have to be!" He was grasping at straws here, throwing in things he thought the brunette would want to hear. It wasn't working. Salem was already shaking his head and trying to pull away back to the dance floor. "Hey, come on, don't be like that. Why won't you say yes?" The boy's blue eyes tried to break him. Tried to sway him, but it wasn't working.
"Seth, I'm really sorry okay? I just can't for like a million reasons..." Salem tried to make him understand.
"But I really, really like you!" The other continued with his pursuit, yelling over the volume of the music, trying to keep Salem still long enough to hear his side of everything.
"I like you too! But I can't be your boyfriend." He called back over the music, moving out of the way as a couple people pushed past him in the overly crowded area.
"Why not? Is it because of what I do?" He asked. Up until a week ago they had, had the same profession. Until Salem took one step up into stripper. Barely a step up if you asked him though. Everyone still expected you to sleep with them, and it was more of a pain in the ass to have to turn them down than to actually do it as far as he was concerned. They didn't like to take no for an answer, and some assumed it was part of your job, or that you were automatically some kind of a slut that would give it up to every guy who walked in the door. It was frustrating. And it didn't help that former clients came in there more often than he would like. Because they knew him, knew what he did before this, and they weren't willing to let that go so easily.
Every time their hands slid up the inside of his thigh. Every time they grabbed him, touched him, groped him, told him what they thought they knew about him, Salem was even more sure he was never going to be seen for anymore than they saw him for right then. A whore. His eyes had glossed over for just for a second before he snapped out of it, and answered his friend's question.
"You know better than that!" Salem told him, giving him a look before he grabbed his drink. "Come on, lets dance!" He said pulling him out onto the dance floor. A distraction from the interrogation. Temporary. Could last the night, a few nights, an hour, ten minutes who knew. But it bought him time. Time to think up how he would turn the poor guy down next time. Really though where was he getting the idea that the answer would be any different the next time he asked? Salem didn’t understand, and probably never would, not even if it smacked him square in the head.
"Salem?"
"Shhh~" He pulled him closer. "Just dance."
"Seth, I'm really sorry okay? I just can't for like a million reasons..." Salem tried to make him understand.
"But I really, really like you!" The other continued with his pursuit, yelling over the volume of the music, trying to keep Salem still long enough to hear his side of everything.
"I like you too! But I can't be your boyfriend." He called back over the music, moving out of the way as a couple people pushed past him in the overly crowded area.
"Why not? Is it because of what I do?" He asked. Up until a week ago they had, had the same profession. Until Salem took one step up into stripper. Barely a step up if you asked him though. Everyone still expected you to sleep with them, and it was more of a pain in the ass to have to turn them down than to actually do it as far as he was concerned. They didn't like to take no for an answer, and some assumed it was part of your job, or that you were automatically some kind of a slut that would give it up to every guy who walked in the door. It was frustrating. And it didn't help that former clients came in there more often than he would like. Because they knew him, knew what he did before this, and they weren't willing to let that go so easily.
Every time their hands slid up the inside of his thigh. Every time they grabbed him, touched him, groped him, told him what they thought they knew about him, Salem was even more sure he was never going to be seen for anymore than they saw him for right then. A whore. His eyes had glossed over for just for a second before he snapped out of it, and answered his friend's question.
"You know better than that!" Salem told him, giving him a look before he grabbed his drink. "Come on, lets dance!" He said pulling him out onto the dance floor. A distraction from the interrogation. Temporary. Could last the night, a few nights, an hour, ten minutes who knew. But it bought him time. Time to think up how he would turn the poor guy down next time. Really though where was he getting the idea that the answer would be any different the next time he asked? Salem didn’t understand, and probably never would, not even if it smacked him square in the head.
"Salem?"
"Shhh~" He pulled him closer. "Just dance."