[Advent] Day 11
For: theafterimages
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Zitao/Jackson (got7)
Length: 1100w
Summary: Tao and Jackson as strippers. This is way too fluffy.
It’s always noisy in the club. Even if there aren’t many customers, bass heavy music is continuously pouring through the speakers. There are a few corners where it isn’t overly loud, and that’s where most of the employees huddle if there’s a lull.
There’s no lull tonight. The place is packed with men and women, all eager to see a good performance. Zitao is standing by the bar, a tray in his hand as he waits for it to be filled with drinks. The customers out on the floor are rowdy, but that’s usual for the weekend crowd. The club is near a college campus and with that comes a steady flow of horny just over the drinking limit students with their parents’ money to blow.
Zitao doesn’t dislike his job. Even when the clientele gets handsy, they always back off with a stern look and a playful slap on their hand. It brings in far more money than waiting tables and Zitao gets to show off how damn good he looks at the same time. It’s a win-win.
It’s also great because he gets to watch his boyfriend strutting around in outfits just as small as his, showcasing himself when he dances on stage. Zitao lives it up on the stage, but Jackson - Jackson demands the attention of a room with a single look. Zitao is helpless to the pull even after being exposed to it for so long.
Jackson’s also the only person Zitao knows who could strip to Hotline Bling and actually make it look sexy. He still can’t believe Jackson seriously did it. Zitao had thought he was kidding when Jackson mentioned adding Drake’s newest song to his setlist. But Jackson makes it work and he looks damn good doing it.
Zitao is a little distracted, still concentrating on doing his job - flirting this table of customers out of their money - but also stealing glances at Jackson popping open the buttons on his shirt one by one until it hangs loose off his broad shoulders. Jackson winks at him and Zitao smiles before turning back to the guy now pushing bills into the top of Zitao’s tiny gold shorts.
“Thank you,” Zitao purrs, walking off with a sway in his hips. He doesn’t have to turn around to know every set of eyes at that table is on his ass. Sometimes it’s just too easy.
Jackson lives it up on the stage, on his knees by the edge as patrons lean in eagerly to slide their money into the garters wrapped around each of his thighs. When he stands to walk off the stage, Zitao watches him along with everyone else.
Tonight’s schedule doesn’t leave room for Zitao to steal into the back and press Jackson to the door, kissing him senseless. He’ll have to wait for that for later. As soon as Jackson changes out of his stage outfit - or what’s left of it - and heads out to start waiting tables, it’ll be Zitao’s turn to duck into the dressing rooms to prepare for his own set.
Jackson still manages to catch a moment, Zitao gasping when he’s pulled out of view of the customers. Jackson kisses him just long enough to wipe his strawberry lip balm on Zitao’s lips. Zitao makes sure to smack Jackson’s ass before he leaves, smiling to himself. He really did land a great guy.
There’s always an audience for the dark, mysterious stranger and Zitao is dressed in leather - easily removable leather - when he struts back out onto the stage. Nicki Minaj blares through the speakers and Zitao is in his element. It’s easy enough to play up to an eager group of people who want the unattainable. Zitao gives it to them. He slides his clothes off piece by piece, teasing with his hands and hips before crawling almost near enough for them to touch.
Sometimes Zitao makes his routines more complicated, using the poles mounted on the stage to his advantage, but when he has to go on several times an hour until three in the morning, the simpler routines are the way to go. He learned that the hard way. Losing all energy and having to chase caffeine pills with a hot cup of black coffee isn’t something he wants to do ever again.
When Zitao glances out into the crowd, he sees Jackson sitting on someone’s lap in one of the back booths. But everyone else is oriented on Zitao and he makes it worth their while. He always does.
They spill out the door at almost half past three in the morning. Jackson has an arm around Zitao’s waist and they’re bundled up for the colder weather. It’s been a good night, but Zitao can already feel the adrenaline crash edging on him and he wants to be home when it hits. Jackson is the one who drives, getting them home quickly, which means he was probably speeding.
Their apartment isn’t large; it doesn’t need to be. It’s big enough for the two of them and that suits them both just fine. They’re both covered in makeup and glitter and sweat, but the bed is so tempting that Zitao makes a play for it as soon as they’re inside. He’s still unwinding his scarf when he crawls on the mattress, but Jackson is behind him, pulling him off.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jackson asks.
His mouth is just beneath Zitao’s ear and a shiver races down Zitao’s spine. “To infest your pillow with glitter,” Zitao answers with a smile, turning his head.
Jackson sighs at him and drags Zitao with him toward the bathroom. “Come on, I’ll wash you.”
Well that certainly has an appeal to it. Zitao gets to stand under the spray of almost too hot water while Jackson soaps him down. And then Zitao returns the favor, stealing several long, languid kisses along the way. Jackson still tastes like his lipbalm. Zitao loves it.
It’s too early in the morning to do anything other than fall in bed together, Zitao with his wet hair soaking his pillow and Jackson over him. Zitao’s hands run up and down Jackson’s sides, and he’s content with the press of Jackson’s lips on his own, content with the weight of Jackson settled comfortably between his legs.
This is probably Zitao’s favorite part of the day. It’s still dark outside, but the city will be waking up soon. There’s no demands, no one calling or honking just outside their building. It’s just Zitao and Jackson on their soft bed, kissing and touching and lost in their own little world. This right here is all Zitao needs.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Jackson complains, his face pushed to Zitao’s neck. “I can hear those wheels creaking.”
Zitao pokes Jackson’s side. “Only thinking about you.” Jackson’s nose is wrinkled when he leans up and Zitao laughs at him. “Come here,” he says. “I wasn’t finished kissing you.”
“Only because kissing you is so nice,” Jackson grumbles.
They’ll probably fall asleep just as the sun comes up, their curtains closed to block out the light. Neither of them have work tomorrow to they’ll be able to sleep in. And then maybe Zitao can talk Jackson into staying in bed for a little while longer. Just because.
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Zitao/Jackson (got7)
Length: 1100w
Summary: Tao and Jackson as strippers. This is way too fluffy.
It’s always noisy in the club. Even if there aren’t many customers, bass heavy music is continuously pouring through the speakers. There are a few corners where it isn’t overly loud, and that’s where most of the employees huddle if there’s a lull.
There’s no lull tonight. The place is packed with men and women, all eager to see a good performance. Zitao is standing by the bar, a tray in his hand as he waits for it to be filled with drinks. The customers out on the floor are rowdy, but that’s usual for the weekend crowd. The club is near a college campus and with that comes a steady flow of horny just over the drinking limit students with their parents’ money to blow.
Zitao doesn’t dislike his job. Even when the clientele gets handsy, they always back off with a stern look and a playful slap on their hand. It brings in far more money than waiting tables and Zitao gets to show off how damn good he looks at the same time. It’s a win-win.
It’s also great because he gets to watch his boyfriend strutting around in outfits just as small as his, showcasing himself when he dances on stage. Zitao lives it up on the stage, but Jackson - Jackson demands the attention of a room with a single look. Zitao is helpless to the pull even after being exposed to it for so long.
Jackson’s also the only person Zitao knows who could strip to Hotline Bling and actually make it look sexy. He still can’t believe Jackson seriously did it. Zitao had thought he was kidding when Jackson mentioned adding Drake’s newest song to his setlist. But Jackson makes it work and he looks damn good doing it.
Zitao is a little distracted, still concentrating on doing his job - flirting this table of customers out of their money - but also stealing glances at Jackson popping open the buttons on his shirt one by one until it hangs loose off his broad shoulders. Jackson winks at him and Zitao smiles before turning back to the guy now pushing bills into the top of Zitao’s tiny gold shorts.
“Thank you,” Zitao purrs, walking off with a sway in his hips. He doesn’t have to turn around to know every set of eyes at that table is on his ass. Sometimes it’s just too easy.
Jackson lives it up on the stage, on his knees by the edge as patrons lean in eagerly to slide their money into the garters wrapped around each of his thighs. When he stands to walk off the stage, Zitao watches him along with everyone else.
Tonight’s schedule doesn’t leave room for Zitao to steal into the back and press Jackson to the door, kissing him senseless. He’ll have to wait for that for later. As soon as Jackson changes out of his stage outfit - or what’s left of it - and heads out to start waiting tables, it’ll be Zitao’s turn to duck into the dressing rooms to prepare for his own set.
Jackson still manages to catch a moment, Zitao gasping when he’s pulled out of view of the customers. Jackson kisses him just long enough to wipe his strawberry lip balm on Zitao’s lips. Zitao makes sure to smack Jackson’s ass before he leaves, smiling to himself. He really did land a great guy.
There’s always an audience for the dark, mysterious stranger and Zitao is dressed in leather - easily removable leather - when he struts back out onto the stage. Nicki Minaj blares through the speakers and Zitao is in his element. It’s easy enough to play up to an eager group of people who want the unattainable. Zitao gives it to them. He slides his clothes off piece by piece, teasing with his hands and hips before crawling almost near enough for them to touch.
Sometimes Zitao makes his routines more complicated, using the poles mounted on the stage to his advantage, but when he has to go on several times an hour until three in the morning, the simpler routines are the way to go. He learned that the hard way. Losing all energy and having to chase caffeine pills with a hot cup of black coffee isn’t something he wants to do ever again.
When Zitao glances out into the crowd, he sees Jackson sitting on someone’s lap in one of the back booths. But everyone else is oriented on Zitao and he makes it worth their while. He always does.
They spill out the door at almost half past three in the morning. Jackson has an arm around Zitao’s waist and they’re bundled up for the colder weather. It’s been a good night, but Zitao can already feel the adrenaline crash edging on him and he wants to be home when it hits. Jackson is the one who drives, getting them home quickly, which means he was probably speeding.
Their apartment isn’t large; it doesn’t need to be. It’s big enough for the two of them and that suits them both just fine. They’re both covered in makeup and glitter and sweat, but the bed is so tempting that Zitao makes a play for it as soon as they’re inside. He’s still unwinding his scarf when he crawls on the mattress, but Jackson is behind him, pulling him off.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jackson asks.
His mouth is just beneath Zitao’s ear and a shiver races down Zitao’s spine. “To infest your pillow with glitter,” Zitao answers with a smile, turning his head.
Jackson sighs at him and drags Zitao with him toward the bathroom. “Come on, I’ll wash you.”
Well that certainly has an appeal to it. Zitao gets to stand under the spray of almost too hot water while Jackson soaps him down. And then Zitao returns the favor, stealing several long, languid kisses along the way. Jackson still tastes like his lipbalm. Zitao loves it.
It’s too early in the morning to do anything other than fall in bed together, Zitao with his wet hair soaking his pillow and Jackson over him. Zitao’s hands run up and down Jackson’s sides, and he’s content with the press of Jackson’s lips on his own, content with the weight of Jackson settled comfortably between his legs.
This is probably Zitao’s favorite part of the day. It’s still dark outside, but the city will be waking up soon. There’s no demands, no one calling or honking just outside their building. It’s just Zitao and Jackson on their soft bed, kissing and touching and lost in their own little world. This right here is all Zitao needs.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Jackson complains, his face pushed to Zitao’s neck. “I can hear those wheels creaking.”
Zitao pokes Jackson’s side. “Only thinking about you.” Jackson’s nose is wrinkled when he leans up and Zitao laughs at him. “Come here,” he says. “I wasn’t finished kissing you.”
“Only because kissing you is so nice,” Jackson grumbles.
They’ll probably fall asleep just as the sun comes up, their curtains closed to block out the light. Neither of them have work tomorrow to they’ll be able to sleep in. And then maybe Zitao can talk Jackson into staying in bed for a little while longer. Just because.