For edana_ni_emer
For edana_ni_emer, her requested fic:
Title: Of Dirty Words, Male Strippers, and Jealous Wizards
Pairing: Bob/Harry, of course….I’ve been ruined for writing all other couples
Rating: NC-17...I don’t believe in lower ratings *evil smile*
Warnings: A couple of equally jealous wizards, the usual language and smut I always write…oh, and Dom!Harry! Some lipbite!kink for those of us who love it. And as usual, not beta’d.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine! I just make them go to gay bars and get felt up by male strippers and drag queens.
Author’s Note: The third of ten requested fics. The inspiration for this comes from an actual gay club/bar that I’ve been to a couple of times, so the setting here is very, very similar to this place. So trust me when I say that there is a second story that balconies over the first story, and the second floor holds another bar and a smaller room where they have male strip shows and drag queen acts. *grins* It’s a helluva lotta fun, and I highly recommend going to a gay bar at least once in your life. And yes, the strippers are a bit…eager, like the one here. The queen and stripper I mention were actually there that night, did look like that, and one of the drag queens did grab me (like what happens to Bob in the story) from behind. It made me giggle.
Here’s the request edana_ni_emer gave me for her fic:
Bob/Harry, NC-17, a first time for something. :-) Not necessarily sex, just a first time for *something*. I hope this is along the lines of what she wanted!
Harry slammed the shot glass down on the table, the thump of the disco beat playing in the small room creating an echo that sounded in his ears. It probably didn’t help that he’d already downed four shots and that while Bob’s eyes were fixed on the drag queen, his hand was roaming below the table, out of sight. The room was dim; red, blue and white spot lights were focused on the red-haired, hooked nose drag queen that was prancing around the stage. It was some 70s disco song that Harry recognized but didn’t know the name of.
Bob’s hand running slowly over his crotch drove all thought of the drag queen from Harry’s mind, the song just white noise in his ears as his eyes locked with Bob‘s. The older man leered at him, before a pale hand brought his glass of brandy to his lips. He took a sip, rubbing a rebellious drop of the amber liquid that spilled from the glass between his lips. He ran a pink tongue over his mouth, hand squeezing Harry’s cock.
“Stop that,” Harry whispered as he leaned to his left, putting his lips against Bob’s ear. “We’re supposed to be up here for the show. Our first time in a gay dance club and you‘re horny after only twenty minutes.”
“Look around you, Harry,” Bob growled in his ear. “We’re surrounded by gay men, strippers, drag queens, and a few straight people. Everyone is watching that ridiculous queen prance around on stage. They don’t care about the gay couple in the corner that’s whispering to each other.” His eyes snaked around the room, flitting across the faces of the people seated around them. “And if they do see us, the gay men will be jealous because I’m the older man with his hand on the younger man’s cock, and the straight women will think we’re sexy and then later fantasize about me fucking you.”
The drag queen did a high kick, showing off long legs and knee-high leather boots under her dress, which earned her some wolf whistles and dollar bills tossed on the stage. She picked the money up with a naughty smile, then spun around, stuffing the bills into the front of her dress and throwing her arms up as the song ended. Applause sounded, and she grabbed the microphone that was on the side of the stage.
“I’m gonna go have myself a drink at the bar,” she purred, tossing a manicured hand toward the bartender, who winked back. “And any of you lovely people are welcome to join me, but while I’m having a cosmo, you all enjoy the beautiful and oh-so-buff Michael!”
More cheers and applause proceeded a tan, obviously well-built young man who stepped up on the stage. The dark-haired twenty-something wore a three-piece, pinstripe black suit, no shoes, and carried a silver-tipped cane. He stood, head down with the cane in front of him, and the beat of a hard club song came through the speakers hidden behind the stage curtains. His cane tapped out the beginning rhythm of the song, and then the song suddenly picked up, the pace and bass heavier. He brought his head up, grinned at the crowd, and did some nifty toss with his cane that Harry barely followed.
What Bob had just said dawned on him and he grabbed the older man by the neck, trying to not to arch into Bob’s hand as he squeezed again, making Harry hiss. “And just why would the straight women imagine it’s you fucking me?” he murmured into Bob’s ear, his tongue flicking out and his teeth catching Bob’s earlobe.
The hand underneath the table tightened its grip, making Harry squirm, and Bob tipped on his chair slightly so he could duck his head under Harry’s chin to nip at his neck. The scent of Harry’s skin always drove him wild; the younger wizard smelled like wood smoke from the stove in his kitchen and the herbs he often worked with, but tonight, he also smelled of the whiskey he was drinking and the slight musk of his obvious arousal. “Because I’m clearly the older, more dominant male.”
Harry pulled back and looked at him, reaching up to run his fingers through Bob’s white hair. “You’re the more dominant male because you say so?”
Bob chuckled, biting his bottom lip just a little as Harry’s fingers wove through his hair. “No, I’m the more dominant male because you’re always the first to beg, Harry. And you begging always makes me want you even more.“ His voice dropped even lower than normal, and it took on the same tone he used in the bedroom…or in the lab, or on the kitchen table, depending on what kind of mood they were in. “And that’s when I wind up saying something akin to, “God, Harry, fuck, please.”
The last few words came out as a rumble, and Harry closed his eyes as Bob ran his hand one last time over his swiftly hardening cock then pulled back completely, grabbing Harry’s hand and putting their joined hands on the table for all to see. Harry looked at him questioningly, and Bob, ever so slightly, moved his head in the direction of a young man sitting just a few tables over from them. The blonde youth was eyeing them both, his gaze hungry. When he saw their joined hands, he smiled slightly, as if acknowledging the signal he was being sent. He stood anyways, tossing a few bills on the stage at the stripper, who was slowly peeling off each part of his suit, much to the pleasure of the audience. Money scattered the floor of the stage, and he would bend over provocatively every now and then and grab the bills close to him. He’d already tossed his jacket and vest off, leaving him in his white button-down shirt and pinstriped pants, and he started a complicated and sensual dance routine that involved rather interesting moves that paired him with his cane.
The young man approached them on his way out the door, leaning over Harry just long enough to say, “I’m not a jealous person, but I so envy you. Lucky bitch like you gets an older guy, and I’m left still single and alone.” He winked at Bob, who smiled back, and the man walked out of the room.
“Do I need to remind you of who the dominant male in this relationship is, Harry?”
Harry shoved at his shoulder, which earned him a dark laugh. “Fine, fine. Gloat all you want, but I’m going to go see if Michael the stripper wants my money.” He stood, reaching for his wallet, and with one last, rather naughty look at Bob, Harry pulled a few dollar bills out and approached the stage.
Michael still had his cane but somewhere, in the last few minutes, he had tossed his shirt aside, showing off perfect abs and pectoral muscles, not to mention rather impressive arms. He saw Harry come near and with a deviously clever flick of his wrist, looped the hooked part of the cane around Harry’s neck and drug him forward. More cheers and whistles sounded from the audience as Michael snatched the money from Harry’s hand, stuffing it in the waistband of his pants before grabbing the nearby microphone, cane still around Harry’s neck. “Everybody see this incredibly handsome man I’ve got right in front of me?” A chorus of acknowledgments sounded, and Michael chuckled. “I saw you over there with that older man. You two looked pretty cozy.”
Michael loosed the cane from around Harry’s neck, but instead of moving it completely away from Harry’s body, allowed the hook to trail down Harry’s shoulder and arm before he flipped the cane away and allowed it to rest again on the floor. “You got a name, cutie?”
“Harry,” he replied, in the same drawl he knew drove Bob nuts. He glanced just slightly across the room, catching the unnaturally calm expression on Bob’s face. Gotcha, you son of a bitch. Let‘s see how jealous I can make you.
“How about I give you that dance you paid for?” Michael asked before putting the microphone back on its stand, the movement of his hips swaying with the rhythm of the song. Michael snuck up to him, almost as tall as Harry was, and laced his arms around Harry’s neck. He bent his knees and rubbed up against Harry, who responded by running his hands over the muscles in Michaels’s arms and moving his hips along with the other man’s.
Someone from the back of the room shouted, “Yeah, baby, do that again!” Both Harry and Michael turned to look at the slightly tipsy young woman who was standing up and waving at them.
“Think she likes the show?” Michael growled in his ear just before he pulled Harry’s head down for a quick kiss, pressing against him even harder. Harry nearly lost his balance against the force of the stripper’s body, and Michael grabbed his ass, supposedly to keep Harry from toppling over. He turned quickly in Harry’s arms, rubbing his ass against Harry’s groin. He smiled over at Bob, whose face was still unreadable, and crooked a finger at him. “You’re welcome to join us, sweetie,” he called out to the older man as he popped the button on his pants, letting them slide down his legs to reveal a pair of tiny black bikini underwear that left little to the imagination.
Michael instantly knew why this guy, Harry, whom he had trapped on the stage was with the white-haired man. The instant their eyes locked, Michael felt an undeniable pull toward him, heat racing through him at the sheer sexuality in the man’s gaze, and his fingers suddenly itched to run through his hair and see if was really as soft as it looked.
The song was slowly winding down, but Bob stood and came to the stage anyways, much to the appreciate of the audience, who was going wild at the show before them. Even the red-haired drag queen was sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes fixed on the stage. Bob stepped up on stage, the movement effortlessly graceful, and extended a hand to Michael, who kicked away his pants and took the offered hand eagerly.
Instead of pulling Bob toward him, Michael allowed himself to be pulled toward Bob, who spun the stripper around a few times before grabbing his hips and slamming up against him. Bob’s hips ground into Michael’s and he leaned in to run his tongue along the other man’s damp neck. The stripper shivered, back arching, and he reached behind him for Harry. But before Harry could respond, Bob pulled back, a wicked smile on his face, and he handed Michael the fifty dollar bill the seemed to magically appear in his hand. With a suggestive uplift of his eyebrows to Harry, Bob bowed slightly at Michael before leaving the stage amidst the raucous cries of the crowd. He sat back down, and after a stunned moment, Harry followed him back to the table, stopping smile at Michael, who seemed frozen on the stage.
“Well, that was-” Michael blew out a breath into the microphone after he’d regained his senses. “I’m going to go--hell, I’m going to have a drink and try to cool down after that hottness. Everyone give a big hand to the two beautiful gentlemen who were just up on stage with me.” He had enough sense to save face by winking over at Harry and Bob before picking up the remaining bills littering the stage and sauntering over to the bar, a slightly dazed look still on his face.
“You’re horrid,” Harry said to Bob as he helped him into his coat. “You always have to one-up me.”
Bob turned, running his hands over Harry’s face. “I couldn’t have just wanted to join you onstage?”
Harry shook his head, marveling at the innocent expression on his partner’s face. “You’re still horrid.”
“And you love me for it,” Bob replied, tilting his head up to kiss Harry briefly. “Let’s go home.”
They made their way hand in hand out of the overcrowded room, receiving whistles and enthusiastic cries from the other people seated around the stage. One girl abandoned her seat to dart in front of them, grabbing them both and kissing them full on the mouth before blushing slightly and dashing back to her table, where she was greeted by high-fives and shouts of approval from her friends.
“I don’t think I’ve been kissed by so many people in one night before,” Harry said in Bob’s ear as they navigated through the sea of bodies.
Bob chuckled. “And I’ve never run my tongue up a stripper’s neck before. I say we both have items to cross off our ‘Things To Do Before We Die’ lists.”
They had just reached the open entrance when Bob felt someone pull him backwards. He spun on his heel to see the red-haired drag queen from earlier smiling at him. “I just had to feel those delicious hips before you left,” she said, her smile bright. “You two have to come back soon. You got everyone in here all riled up and they’re throwing more money at the stage than they normally do.”
Harry looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “Please don’t give him any more reasons to gloat tonight. He’s already got a horrible ego.”
She winked saucily at him. “He’s got good reason to, honey.” She slinked over to Harry and put her hands on his arms. “But so do you, sweetness.” She glanced over at Bob, who was fighting to keep a smile off of his face. “I’d say you both made out rather well.” She wiggled her thin eyebrows and ambled off into the crowd, hips swaying.
Harry and Bob exchanged a glance before they both starting laughing. They stayed close to each other as they made their way downstairs and through writhing, half naked bodies of the mostly male crowd on the dance floor. They got a few appreciative looks as they walked through. It was mostly because of the picture they made, two very different but equally attractive men walking hand in hand and talking in each other’s ears, the love and lust on their faces the same as they made a path to the exit.
Once outside and away from the building and seeing eyes, Harry pulled a fast move on Bob, pushing him up against the wall of one of the buildings in the nearby alley. “You’re horrid,” he drawled, pulling Bob in for a kiss that, after a few minutes, left them both flushed and panting.
Bob licked his lips, the taste of Harry on his mouth nearly making him moan. “I love it when you talk dirty,” he retorted, running anxious hands over Harry’s shoulders and down his arms.
Harry shivered, bringing his body against Bob’s, pressing him into the cold brick behind him. “We need to get home, now, before I fuck you in this alley.” He pulled back and grinned. “How’s that for dirty talk?”
Bob reached into the pocket of Harry’s long wool coat, shaking fingers fumbling for the car keys. “I’m driving.”
Harry shrugged. “Just don’t get us pulled over. ‘Yes, officer, here’s my license and registration, and no, that bump in the front of my pants isn’t a gun, it’s just a giant boner because my boyfriend’s horny and I tried to jump him in an alley .’ ”
Bob exhaled, a shuddering breath that set Harry’s nerves on fire. “You dirty tease. God, you’re going to kill me, Harry.”
Harry pushed back from the wall and let Bob go in front of him, giving Harry a chance to swat Bob’s ass. “That’s the idea, sweetie,” he replied, mocking Michael’s pet name for Bob as they reached their car.
“He was cute,” Bob said as he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the engine of Harry’s Jeep over.
“He was,” Harry agreed, smirking. “But he doesn’t have what I do.”
Bob raised a pale eyebrow at him. “And that would be?”
Harry tipped his head forward, lips running along Bob’s jawline. “Remember how you said that me begging just makes you want me more?”
Bob nodded, not trusting the stability of his voice as Harry’s tongue touched the frantically beating pulse in his neck.
“You may want me when I beg, but we both know, and I quote directly from you for this, that it’s my ‘enormously large cock’ that you love. And we both know that Michael the stripper doesn‘t have as many bragging rights as I do.”
Bob moaned as Harry’s teeth pulled on a bit of skin before the tip of his tongue touched the same spot. He shoved at Harry’s shoulder, making him sit back in the passenger seat as Bob wrapped one sweaty hand around the steering wheel. “We’re going home. Now.”
The lust dripping from Bob’s voice sent a thrill up Harry’s spine, so he put on his seat belt and leaned back in the seat, watching Bob fight for control as his hand crept over the tent in Bob’s pants.
“You can’t possibly think that I’m capable of backing this vehicle out of its parking spot while you’ve got your hand on my cock, Harry. Be reasonable. Do you want to get home so that we can fuck like rabbits until the wee hours of the morning in the privacy of our bedroom, or do you want to fuck in the parking lot where we’re sure to attract an audience?”
Harry withdrew his hand slowly with a uttered, “Get going, then.”
Bob peeled the Jeep out of the parking space and onto the street, whipping through a yellow light and silently cursing the 25 mile per hours speed limit. Harry had taught him how to drive a few months ago, and had made note that the police in the Chicago suburbs were notorious for setting speed traps. So he obeyed the speed limit until they got outside the city limits, and then he punched the accelerator, speeding along the highway back to Chicago. Harry’s hand moved toward him again, but Bob’s withering stare had Harry retreating once more as he silently vowed to make Bob scream his name the minute they got home.
The drive seemed to take longer than normal, and while Harry was whispering dirty suggestions in Bob’s ear, the older man managed, somehow, to park Harry’s Jeep in front of their apartment. They were already peeling out of their coats, hands grabbing at each other by the time they’d crossed the street and had reached Harry’s door.
Harry gave up on his keys after a minute, muttering a spell to unlock the door and one more to activate the protective wards. He hastily tossed his coat on the floor and hauled Bob inside by the sleeve of his coat, quickly pulling Bob free of the black wool.
Bob found himself roughly slammed up against the far brick wall of Harry’s office, knees buckling as Harry rubbed up against him and ravished his mouth, tongue sliding along Bob’s bottom lip before slipping it inside the other man’s mouth. Bob’s eyes rolled back in his head at all the delicious sensations he was experiencing; the feel of Harry’s hot, tight body against him, the dark, musky smell of him, and the whiskey he could still taste on Harry’s lips. It had him nearly undone. He dove his hands into Harry’s hair as his hips thrust forward to meet the younger man’s.
“You need me,” Harry growled into his mouth as he yanked on Bob’s hair. He was rewarded with a deep moan, which only spurred Harry on. “Say it, Bob. I want to hear you say you need me.”
Bob bit his bottom lip again, a habit Harry loved, and said quietly, “You know I need you, Harry. I always do.” Their dark eyes met, and Bob couldn’t help but shiver at the blatant desire on Harry’s face and in his eyes.
“What do you want, Bob? Say it. I won’t do anything more than press you against this wall and kiss you until you’re breathless and whimpering unless you say it.”
Harry’s teeth bit down on Bob’s earlobe, earning Harry another moan. Harry’s hands roamed over Bob’s black dress shirt, pinching both his nipples before moving lower and coming to rest on his belt buckle. “Say it.” The command came out as a snarl, a sound Bob had never heard Harry make.
“Harry, fuck me, please,” Bob cried, hips jerking as Harry forcefully grabbed his erection.
“Upstairs, now,” Harry ordered, snatching Bob away from the wall and shoving him rather unceremoniously toward the stairs. He came up behind Bob, hands grabbing his ass and worming their way around his hips as he put his lips on the older man’s ear. “Tonight, I’m on top, and it’s you crying my name. Understood?”
Bob swallowed hard, secretly thrilled to the core at this demanding side of Harry. “I suppose I get no choice in the matter?”
“I believe, ‘Harry, fuck me, please’ is all the reason I need.” He nipped at Bob’s neck before guiding them up the stairs. “You’re horrid and I’m a dirty tease. We make the perfect couple.”
The reached the landing and Bob nearly rushed over to the bed, thinking Harry was following right behind. When he realized that Harry wasn’t there, he turned and saw Harry watching him. “I thought you wanted to fuck me,” he said, a smirk on his face.
“I do,” Harry said quietly, moving toward Bob as if stalking him. “Strip. Now.”
Title: Of Dirty Words, Male Strippers, and Jealous Wizards
Pairing: Bob/Harry, of course….I’ve been ruined for writing all other couples
Rating: NC-17...I don’t believe in lower ratings *evil smile*
Warnings: A couple of equally jealous wizards, the usual language and smut I always write…oh, and Dom!Harry! Some lipbite!kink for those of us who love it. And as usual, not beta’d.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine! I just make them go to gay bars and get felt up by male strippers and drag queens.
Author’s Note: The third of ten requested fics. The inspiration for this comes from an actual gay club/bar that I’ve been to a couple of times, so the setting here is very, very similar to this place. So trust me when I say that there is a second story that balconies over the first story, and the second floor holds another bar and a smaller room where they have male strip shows and drag queen acts. *grins* It’s a helluva lotta fun, and I highly recommend going to a gay bar at least once in your life. And yes, the strippers are a bit…eager, like the one here. The queen and stripper I mention were actually there that night, did look like that, and one of the drag queens did grab me (like what happens to Bob in the story) from behind. It made me giggle.
Here’s the request edana_ni_emer gave me for her fic:
Bob/Harry, NC-17, a first time for something. :-) Not necessarily sex, just a first time for *something*. I hope this is along the lines of what she wanted!
Harry slammed the shot glass down on the table, the thump of the disco beat playing in the small room creating an echo that sounded in his ears. It probably didn’t help that he’d already downed four shots and that while Bob’s eyes were fixed on the drag queen, his hand was roaming below the table, out of sight. The room was dim; red, blue and white spot lights were focused on the red-haired, hooked nose drag queen that was prancing around the stage. It was some 70s disco song that Harry recognized but didn’t know the name of.
Bob’s hand running slowly over his crotch drove all thought of the drag queen from Harry’s mind, the song just white noise in his ears as his eyes locked with Bob‘s. The older man leered at him, before a pale hand brought his glass of brandy to his lips. He took a sip, rubbing a rebellious drop of the amber liquid that spilled from the glass between his lips. He ran a pink tongue over his mouth, hand squeezing Harry’s cock.
“Stop that,” Harry whispered as he leaned to his left, putting his lips against Bob’s ear. “We’re supposed to be up here for the show. Our first time in a gay dance club and you‘re horny after only twenty minutes.”
“Look around you, Harry,” Bob growled in his ear. “We’re surrounded by gay men, strippers, drag queens, and a few straight people. Everyone is watching that ridiculous queen prance around on stage. They don’t care about the gay couple in the corner that’s whispering to each other.” His eyes snaked around the room, flitting across the faces of the people seated around them. “And if they do see us, the gay men will be jealous because I’m the older man with his hand on the younger man’s cock, and the straight women will think we’re sexy and then later fantasize about me fucking you.”
The drag queen did a high kick, showing off long legs and knee-high leather boots under her dress, which earned her some wolf whistles and dollar bills tossed on the stage. She picked the money up with a naughty smile, then spun around, stuffing the bills into the front of her dress and throwing her arms up as the song ended. Applause sounded, and she grabbed the microphone that was on the side of the stage.
“I’m gonna go have myself a drink at the bar,” she purred, tossing a manicured hand toward the bartender, who winked back. “And any of you lovely people are welcome to join me, but while I’m having a cosmo, you all enjoy the beautiful and oh-so-buff Michael!”
More cheers and applause proceeded a tan, obviously well-built young man who stepped up on the stage. The dark-haired twenty-something wore a three-piece, pinstripe black suit, no shoes, and carried a silver-tipped cane. He stood, head down with the cane in front of him, and the beat of a hard club song came through the speakers hidden behind the stage curtains. His cane tapped out the beginning rhythm of the song, and then the song suddenly picked up, the pace and bass heavier. He brought his head up, grinned at the crowd, and did some nifty toss with his cane that Harry barely followed.
What Bob had just said dawned on him and he grabbed the older man by the neck, trying to not to arch into Bob’s hand as he squeezed again, making Harry hiss. “And just why would the straight women imagine it’s you fucking me?” he murmured into Bob’s ear, his tongue flicking out and his teeth catching Bob’s earlobe.
The hand underneath the table tightened its grip, making Harry squirm, and Bob tipped on his chair slightly so he could duck his head under Harry’s chin to nip at his neck. The scent of Harry’s skin always drove him wild; the younger wizard smelled like wood smoke from the stove in his kitchen and the herbs he often worked with, but tonight, he also smelled of the whiskey he was drinking and the slight musk of his obvious arousal. “Because I’m clearly the older, more dominant male.”
Harry pulled back and looked at him, reaching up to run his fingers through Bob’s white hair. “You’re the more dominant male because you say so?”
Bob chuckled, biting his bottom lip just a little as Harry’s fingers wove through his hair. “No, I’m the more dominant male because you’re always the first to beg, Harry. And you begging always makes me want you even more.“ His voice dropped even lower than normal, and it took on the same tone he used in the bedroom…or in the lab, or on the kitchen table, depending on what kind of mood they were in. “And that’s when I wind up saying something akin to, “God, Harry, fuck, please.”
The last few words came out as a rumble, and Harry closed his eyes as Bob ran his hand one last time over his swiftly hardening cock then pulled back completely, grabbing Harry’s hand and putting their joined hands on the table for all to see. Harry looked at him questioningly, and Bob, ever so slightly, moved his head in the direction of a young man sitting just a few tables over from them. The blonde youth was eyeing them both, his gaze hungry. When he saw their joined hands, he smiled slightly, as if acknowledging the signal he was being sent. He stood anyways, tossing a few bills on the stage at the stripper, who was slowly peeling off each part of his suit, much to the pleasure of the audience. Money scattered the floor of the stage, and he would bend over provocatively every now and then and grab the bills close to him. He’d already tossed his jacket and vest off, leaving him in his white button-down shirt and pinstriped pants, and he started a complicated and sensual dance routine that involved rather interesting moves that paired him with his cane.
The young man approached them on his way out the door, leaning over Harry just long enough to say, “I’m not a jealous person, but I so envy you. Lucky bitch like you gets an older guy, and I’m left still single and alone.” He winked at Bob, who smiled back, and the man walked out of the room.
“Do I need to remind you of who the dominant male in this relationship is, Harry?”
Harry shoved at his shoulder, which earned him a dark laugh. “Fine, fine. Gloat all you want, but I’m going to go see if Michael the stripper wants my money.” He stood, reaching for his wallet, and with one last, rather naughty look at Bob, Harry pulled a few dollar bills out and approached the stage.
Michael still had his cane but somewhere, in the last few minutes, he had tossed his shirt aside, showing off perfect abs and pectoral muscles, not to mention rather impressive arms. He saw Harry come near and with a deviously clever flick of his wrist, looped the hooked part of the cane around Harry’s neck and drug him forward. More cheers and whistles sounded from the audience as Michael snatched the money from Harry’s hand, stuffing it in the waistband of his pants before grabbing the nearby microphone, cane still around Harry’s neck. “Everybody see this incredibly handsome man I’ve got right in front of me?” A chorus of acknowledgments sounded, and Michael chuckled. “I saw you over there with that older man. You two looked pretty cozy.”
Michael loosed the cane from around Harry’s neck, but instead of moving it completely away from Harry’s body, allowed the hook to trail down Harry’s shoulder and arm before he flipped the cane away and allowed it to rest again on the floor. “You got a name, cutie?”
“Harry,” he replied, in the same drawl he knew drove Bob nuts. He glanced just slightly across the room, catching the unnaturally calm expression on Bob’s face. Gotcha, you son of a bitch. Let‘s see how jealous I can make you.
“How about I give you that dance you paid for?” Michael asked before putting the microphone back on its stand, the movement of his hips swaying with the rhythm of the song. Michael snuck up to him, almost as tall as Harry was, and laced his arms around Harry’s neck. He bent his knees and rubbed up against Harry, who responded by running his hands over the muscles in Michaels’s arms and moving his hips along with the other man’s.
Someone from the back of the room shouted, “Yeah, baby, do that again!” Both Harry and Michael turned to look at the slightly tipsy young woman who was standing up and waving at them.
“Think she likes the show?” Michael growled in his ear just before he pulled Harry’s head down for a quick kiss, pressing against him even harder. Harry nearly lost his balance against the force of the stripper’s body, and Michael grabbed his ass, supposedly to keep Harry from toppling over. He turned quickly in Harry’s arms, rubbing his ass against Harry’s groin. He smiled over at Bob, whose face was still unreadable, and crooked a finger at him. “You’re welcome to join us, sweetie,” he called out to the older man as he popped the button on his pants, letting them slide down his legs to reveal a pair of tiny black bikini underwear that left little to the imagination.
Michael instantly knew why this guy, Harry, whom he had trapped on the stage was with the white-haired man. The instant their eyes locked, Michael felt an undeniable pull toward him, heat racing through him at the sheer sexuality in the man’s gaze, and his fingers suddenly itched to run through his hair and see if was really as soft as it looked.
The song was slowly winding down, but Bob stood and came to the stage anyways, much to the appreciate of the audience, who was going wild at the show before them. Even the red-haired drag queen was sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes fixed on the stage. Bob stepped up on stage, the movement effortlessly graceful, and extended a hand to Michael, who kicked away his pants and took the offered hand eagerly.
Instead of pulling Bob toward him, Michael allowed himself to be pulled toward Bob, who spun the stripper around a few times before grabbing his hips and slamming up against him. Bob’s hips ground into Michael’s and he leaned in to run his tongue along the other man’s damp neck. The stripper shivered, back arching, and he reached behind him for Harry. But before Harry could respond, Bob pulled back, a wicked smile on his face, and he handed Michael the fifty dollar bill the seemed to magically appear in his hand. With a suggestive uplift of his eyebrows to Harry, Bob bowed slightly at Michael before leaving the stage amidst the raucous cries of the crowd. He sat back down, and after a stunned moment, Harry followed him back to the table, stopping smile at Michael, who seemed frozen on the stage.
“Well, that was-” Michael blew out a breath into the microphone after he’d regained his senses. “I’m going to go--hell, I’m going to have a drink and try to cool down after that hottness. Everyone give a big hand to the two beautiful gentlemen who were just up on stage with me.” He had enough sense to save face by winking over at Harry and Bob before picking up the remaining bills littering the stage and sauntering over to the bar, a slightly dazed look still on his face.
“You’re horrid,” Harry said to Bob as he helped him into his coat. “You always have to one-up me.”
Bob turned, running his hands over Harry’s face. “I couldn’t have just wanted to join you onstage?”
Harry shook his head, marveling at the innocent expression on his partner’s face. “You’re still horrid.”
“And you love me for it,” Bob replied, tilting his head up to kiss Harry briefly. “Let’s go home.”
They made their way hand in hand out of the overcrowded room, receiving whistles and enthusiastic cries from the other people seated around the stage. One girl abandoned her seat to dart in front of them, grabbing them both and kissing them full on the mouth before blushing slightly and dashing back to her table, where she was greeted by high-fives and shouts of approval from her friends.
“I don’t think I’ve been kissed by so many people in one night before,” Harry said in Bob’s ear as they navigated through the sea of bodies.
Bob chuckled. “And I’ve never run my tongue up a stripper’s neck before. I say we both have items to cross off our ‘Things To Do Before We Die’ lists.”
They had just reached the open entrance when Bob felt someone pull him backwards. He spun on his heel to see the red-haired drag queen from earlier smiling at him. “I just had to feel those delicious hips before you left,” she said, her smile bright. “You two have to come back soon. You got everyone in here all riled up and they’re throwing more money at the stage than they normally do.”
Harry looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “Please don’t give him any more reasons to gloat tonight. He’s already got a horrible ego.”
She winked saucily at him. “He’s got good reason to, honey.” She slinked over to Harry and put her hands on his arms. “But so do you, sweetness.” She glanced over at Bob, who was fighting to keep a smile off of his face. “I’d say you both made out rather well.” She wiggled her thin eyebrows and ambled off into the crowd, hips swaying.
Harry and Bob exchanged a glance before they both starting laughing. They stayed close to each other as they made their way downstairs and through writhing, half naked bodies of the mostly male crowd on the dance floor. They got a few appreciative looks as they walked through. It was mostly because of the picture they made, two very different but equally attractive men walking hand in hand and talking in each other’s ears, the love and lust on their faces the same as they made a path to the exit.
Once outside and away from the building and seeing eyes, Harry pulled a fast move on Bob, pushing him up against the wall of one of the buildings in the nearby alley. “You’re horrid,” he drawled, pulling Bob in for a kiss that, after a few minutes, left them both flushed and panting.
Bob licked his lips, the taste of Harry on his mouth nearly making him moan. “I love it when you talk dirty,” he retorted, running anxious hands over Harry’s shoulders and down his arms.
Harry shivered, bringing his body against Bob’s, pressing him into the cold brick behind him. “We need to get home, now, before I fuck you in this alley.” He pulled back and grinned. “How’s that for dirty talk?”
Bob reached into the pocket of Harry’s long wool coat, shaking fingers fumbling for the car keys. “I’m driving.”
Harry shrugged. “Just don’t get us pulled over. ‘Yes, officer, here’s my license and registration, and no, that bump in the front of my pants isn’t a gun, it’s just a giant boner because my boyfriend’s horny and I tried to jump him in an alley .’ ”
Bob exhaled, a shuddering breath that set Harry’s nerves on fire. “You dirty tease. God, you’re going to kill me, Harry.”
Harry pushed back from the wall and let Bob go in front of him, giving Harry a chance to swat Bob’s ass. “That’s the idea, sweetie,” he replied, mocking Michael’s pet name for Bob as they reached their car.
“He was cute,” Bob said as he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the engine of Harry’s Jeep over.
“He was,” Harry agreed, smirking. “But he doesn’t have what I do.”
Bob raised a pale eyebrow at him. “And that would be?”
Harry tipped his head forward, lips running along Bob’s jawline. “Remember how you said that me begging just makes you want me more?”
Bob nodded, not trusting the stability of his voice as Harry’s tongue touched the frantically beating pulse in his neck.
“You may want me when I beg, but we both know, and I quote directly from you for this, that it’s my ‘enormously large cock’ that you love. And we both know that Michael the stripper doesn‘t have as many bragging rights as I do.”
Bob moaned as Harry’s teeth pulled on a bit of skin before the tip of his tongue touched the same spot. He shoved at Harry’s shoulder, making him sit back in the passenger seat as Bob wrapped one sweaty hand around the steering wheel. “We’re going home. Now.”
The lust dripping from Bob’s voice sent a thrill up Harry’s spine, so he put on his seat belt and leaned back in the seat, watching Bob fight for control as his hand crept over the tent in Bob’s pants.
“You can’t possibly think that I’m capable of backing this vehicle out of its parking spot while you’ve got your hand on my cock, Harry. Be reasonable. Do you want to get home so that we can fuck like rabbits until the wee hours of the morning in the privacy of our bedroom, or do you want to fuck in the parking lot where we’re sure to attract an audience?”
Harry withdrew his hand slowly with a uttered, “Get going, then.”
Bob peeled the Jeep out of the parking space and onto the street, whipping through a yellow light and silently cursing the 25 mile per hours speed limit. Harry had taught him how to drive a few months ago, and had made note that the police in the Chicago suburbs were notorious for setting speed traps. So he obeyed the speed limit until they got outside the city limits, and then he punched the accelerator, speeding along the highway back to Chicago. Harry’s hand moved toward him again, but Bob’s withering stare had Harry retreating once more as he silently vowed to make Bob scream his name the minute they got home.
The drive seemed to take longer than normal, and while Harry was whispering dirty suggestions in Bob’s ear, the older man managed, somehow, to park Harry’s Jeep in front of their apartment. They were already peeling out of their coats, hands grabbing at each other by the time they’d crossed the street and had reached Harry’s door.
Harry gave up on his keys after a minute, muttering a spell to unlock the door and one more to activate the protective wards. He hastily tossed his coat on the floor and hauled Bob inside by the sleeve of his coat, quickly pulling Bob free of the black wool.
Bob found himself roughly slammed up against the far brick wall of Harry’s office, knees buckling as Harry rubbed up against him and ravished his mouth, tongue sliding along Bob’s bottom lip before slipping it inside the other man’s mouth. Bob’s eyes rolled back in his head at all the delicious sensations he was experiencing; the feel of Harry’s hot, tight body against him, the dark, musky smell of him, and the whiskey he could still taste on Harry’s lips. It had him nearly undone. He dove his hands into Harry’s hair as his hips thrust forward to meet the younger man’s.
“You need me,” Harry growled into his mouth as he yanked on Bob’s hair. He was rewarded with a deep moan, which only spurred Harry on. “Say it, Bob. I want to hear you say you need me.”
Bob bit his bottom lip again, a habit Harry loved, and said quietly, “You know I need you, Harry. I always do.” Their dark eyes met, and Bob couldn’t help but shiver at the blatant desire on Harry’s face and in his eyes.
“What do you want, Bob? Say it. I won’t do anything more than press you against this wall and kiss you until you’re breathless and whimpering unless you say it.”
Harry’s teeth bit down on Bob’s earlobe, earning Harry another moan. Harry’s hands roamed over Bob’s black dress shirt, pinching both his nipples before moving lower and coming to rest on his belt buckle. “Say it.” The command came out as a snarl, a sound Bob had never heard Harry make.
“Harry, fuck me, please,” Bob cried, hips jerking as Harry forcefully grabbed his erection.
“Upstairs, now,” Harry ordered, snatching Bob away from the wall and shoving him rather unceremoniously toward the stairs. He came up behind Bob, hands grabbing his ass and worming their way around his hips as he put his lips on the older man’s ear. “Tonight, I’m on top, and it’s you crying my name. Understood?”
Bob swallowed hard, secretly thrilled to the core at this demanding side of Harry. “I suppose I get no choice in the matter?”
“I believe, ‘Harry, fuck me, please’ is all the reason I need.” He nipped at Bob’s neck before guiding them up the stairs. “You’re horrid and I’m a dirty tease. We make the perfect couple.”
The reached the landing and Bob nearly rushed over to the bed, thinking Harry was following right behind. When he realized that Harry wasn’t there, he turned and saw Harry watching him. “I thought you wanted to fuck me,” he said, a smirk on his face.
“I do,” Harry said quietly, moving toward Bob as if stalking him. “Strip. Now.”