Crossover: Empire/Cliffton - The Bachelor Party
This is what happens when customer!crush Jesse comes in and mentions that every two months they have male dancers in the cages of his dance club, and that he "tries not to be at work, those nights." Krysten had to mention her imagining of him in said cages dancing against the bars. (He probably gets hit on a lot by the gay male dancers because the dude is hot, okay? HOT.)
This then evolved into Savin going YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN STRIPPER!JAZZ WRITE STRIPPER!JAZZ and then I told Sarah about him yelling that in my ear all night and THEN she had to encourage me and well...
Enjoy the first half of what will eventually be shameless smut sorry not sorry
“Mari, no,” Jazz protested, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned back in his chair, a deep frown on his face. “You cannot get Savin a stripper -- no.”
“Aww, but c’mon, Jazz,” Mari cooed, batting her eyelashes at him. “Not even for his bachelor party? Aren’t you getting strippers for your bachelor party?”
“I’m not having a bachelor party,” Jazz grumbled, his frown deepening. “I’m the goddamn Emperor -- the paparazzi would be all over that, if word got out.”
Mari snorted. “Puh-lease. You’re the goddamn Emperor! You should be having the most epic bachelor party ever! Or at least giving your husband-to-be one -- and I know this guy, Wes. His boyfriend’s a stripper.”
“And here I thought you meant female strippers,” Jazz muttered, putting a hand to his head and scratching at his scalp.
Mari laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I thought about it, but -- all of the female strippers I know, they don’t do private parties.”
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Just how many --”
“Plenty of them,” Mari said, giving Jazz a slow, calculated smile. “C’mon, Jazz. Give Savin one night of having another man writhe on his lap --”
“No.” Jazz glowered at her. “And I would be saying no if you got a female stripper, too, so don’t even try that angle.”
“Can you at least hear out my idea, first, before shooting it down entirely?” Mari asked, frowning into her coffee cup. “You won’t even let me get passed the stripper! There’s more to it than that, you know.”
“Let me guess -- drinking, at your apartment, several of his closest friends, the stripper putting on a show, and cake?” Jazz asked, smirking at her. “I mean, Savin doesn’t like big, public things --”
“Says the man who proposed to him in front of the entire Empire -- but go on,” Mari said, giving Jazz a sardonic smile. “Do tell me how to throw your fiance a party.”
Jazz’s face burned and he hid it behind his own coffee mug, glancing around Mari’s small apartment. “Fine. Tell me the whole idea, beginning to end, then.”
“We’re going to use your apartment, for one --”
“I don’t have an apartment. I have the house I’m trying to sell and the Palace -- but please, go on,” Jazz said with a wink.
“Obviously I meant the Palace. Obviously,” Mari said with a laugh. She leaned back in her own chair. “Unless you think the house would be better? I mean, I assume it’s empty and that we could basically turn it into a pretty sweet party pad.”
“I suppose we could... I could always pay for clean up, too,” Jazz said. He frowned into his coffee cup. “So was I just about right, then? Drinks, the stripper, and a small group of friends?”
“Savin’s got more friends than you realize -- the group ain’t gonna be small,” Mari said, smirking. “But that’s it, basically. Except...”
“Except?”
“How do you feel about crossdressing?” Mari asked, dropping her eyes to her own coffee cup. She sipped at it before puckering her lips.
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “As in, for myself, or...?”
“In general -- but I like that you thought I meant you crossdressing,” Mari said, draping one arm over the back of her chair. She examined her nails closely and glanced at Jazz.
“Well, if you want the stripper to crossdress, I guess it’s moot because there won’t be any strippers at Savin’s bachelor’s party,” Jazz said with a shrug. “But otherwise, crossdressing doesn’t really do anything for me, either way.”
“Did you know Savin finds it really, incredibly hot?” Mari asked, keeping her eyes focused elsewhere as she tipped back the coffee cup once again. “I mean, men in skirts is practically a fucking fetish for him.”
“No, begging is practically a fucking fetish for him,” Jazz corrected.
Mari just grinned back at him, shaking her head. “That is a fetish for him. There’s no ‘practically’ about it. Men in skirts and heels, though? He doesn’t need to see that to get off.” She paused and tapped her fingers against her cup. “What if I told you that Devin -- that’s the stripper’s real name, by the way -- what if I told you that Devin was on his way here, right now, so that you could meet him before the party? And that he has several skirts for you to choose from?”
Choking on his coffee, Jazz slammed the cup back down onto the table, banging his chest in order to help clear the coffee from his lungs. “Are you fucking serious?” he coughed. “Mari, I already said n --”
A knock on the door cut him off, and Jazz felt his stomach twist and turn. Mari grinned. “That must be him!” she said, scrambling out of her seat.
Jazz just shook his head, pushing himself out of his seat to follow her to the door. As he did so, he folded his arms over his chest. He watched as Mari swung the door wide, and his jaw nearly fell to the ground as it revealed a tall, beautiful man behind it.
“Oh, fuck no,” he murmured. Mari and Devin both turned to him, their eyebrows raised and his face growing hot as he looked away from them. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mari -- you really can’t be serious. Savin wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off this guy.”
“That’s the entire point.” Mari grinned, ushering Devin inside. He, too, had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Jazz intently, a slight frown on his face. “We want to get Savin all riled up for the second half of the show.”
“Second half?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean, second half? You said there’d only be the one stripper.”
“You assumed there’d only be one stripper,” Mari clarified, shutting the door behind Devin. She pushed Devin toward Jazz. “Devin, this is Emperor Callahan -- or Jazz, as he prefers it.”
“Yo,” Devin said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He then cleared his throat and turned towards Mari. “Need a different name for him, too, if we’re gonna keep shit a secret.”
“I know,” Mari said, smirking. “Though not everyone knows his nickname, either. The media just calls him by his full name and title -- and most of Savin’s friends haven’t actually met Jazz, except the ones who work at the hospital.”
Jazz’s eyes widened, and he put up a hand to stop Mari from continuing. “Wait wait wait -- you’re not -- you’re not thinking of making me the -- the second half, are you?”
Devin and Mari both grinned at him, their lips pulling upward slowly. “Didn’t get to telling him yet, huh?” Devin asked, cackling.
“Nope,” Mari said, laughter filtering through her tone. She closed the gap between herself and Jazz, the twinkle in her eye unnerving him somewhat. “See, I knew you wouldn’t go for giving Savin a stripper for his bachelor party unless you were there to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid -- which, trust me, Savin’s capable of doing some pretty stupid shit, and he might hit on Devin because I mean -- look at him. They don’t call him ‘Princess’ for nothing, but -- he would never cheat on you, either.”
There was a pause as Jazz glanced at Devin, studying the taller, younger -- definitely younger, he realized as his face felt hot once again -- man. How his long, dark hair was pulled back tightly, not a single strand out of place and those piercing, amber eyes. If Jazz were single, he might take a chance hitting on Devin himself.
Might.
And the image of the same man, barely dressed and in a skirt and heels as Mari had advertised, just made his face burn hotter. The train of thought distracted him so much, he hadn’t realized Mari had continued speaking until he noticed her lips had stopped moving. “I’m sorry, say that again?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Devin and focusing on her entirely, once again.
“She wants to dress you up like a chick and have me teach you how to strip,” Devin said, deadpan with the slightest upward quirk of his lips.
Jazz blinked, his mouth dropping open again as the words slowly registered one by one. “You want me to do -- what?”
“We want you to give your fiance the best strip show and lap dance of his life, all while dressed as a scantily clad woman, ” Mari repeated, grinning. “And you’d make one hell of a woman, Jazz. Trust me. I’ve been designing your stripper outfit since Savin told me he wanted me to plan his bachelor party.”
“I --” Jazz shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Mari, this is such an awful idea. What if word gets out that one of the strippers was me? What if there are pictures?” He could just imagine the headlines now. How he’d become the largest joke of the Empire, all in a single night.
“Phones will be confiscated at the beginning of the night and returned only after they’re leaving,” Mari said, giving him a confident look. “Savin’s need for privacy comes first, and the party’ll be small -- they all understand that even being on the list is an honor, at this point. Also, makeup is a wonderful thing. I am also really good at it. Savin’ll recognize you, I’m sure, but -- I doubt anyone else would.”
Jazz bit his lip. “I need to think about this,” he said after a moment, dropping his eyes to the floor. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up, his eyes widening and face burning as he realized it was Devin’s hand.
“Think about it this way, Emperor,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Not like any of ‘em’ll be fucking sober by the time you make your entrance. And Mari said you had a house we could use -- could always get dressed and made-up there before the party gets there, so no one sees you dressed as a girl, either.”
Jazz just bit his lip harder, looking away from them both, eyes narrowed in thought. He imagined himself writhing on Savin’s lap -- imagined Devin in his place -- how Savin would touch him but not Devin. He even tried to imagine Savin’s face as the pieces slipped together, a hesitant, uneasy smile pulling his lips apart as he turned to Mari.
“If you can guarantee that the paparazzi won’t get ahold of any pictures of me --”
“I can,” Mari said, lifting her chin. “Devin can even rig up something that makes their pictures come out all fucked up, if they try.”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t be hard to do,” he said, slipping his hands inside his pockets. He then smirked. “Should warn you that I’m not above making out with you and posing with you for the party. You okay with that?”
Jazz had to hold back a whimper at the mere thought of him and Devin making out, and forced his eyes away from the other man, lip caught underneath his teeth once again. “As long as Savin was okay with it, I guess it’d be alright -- as long as it was just part of the act, I mean.”
Devin and Mari shared a look, one that made Jazz’s face burn hotter than it had all night.
Just what in the world had he gotten himself into?
Part 2
This then evolved into Savin going YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN STRIPPER!JAZZ WRITE STRIPPER!JAZZ and then I told Sarah about him yelling that in my ear all night and THEN she had to encourage me and well...
Enjoy the first half of what will eventually be shameless smut sorry not sorry
“Mari, no,” Jazz protested, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned back in his chair, a deep frown on his face. “You cannot get Savin a stripper -- no.”
“Aww, but c’mon, Jazz,” Mari cooed, batting her eyelashes at him. “Not even for his bachelor party? Aren’t you getting strippers for your bachelor party?”
“I’m not having a bachelor party,” Jazz grumbled, his frown deepening. “I’m the goddamn Emperor -- the paparazzi would be all over that, if word got out.”
Mari snorted. “Puh-lease. You’re the goddamn Emperor! You should be having the most epic bachelor party ever! Or at least giving your husband-to-be one -- and I know this guy, Wes. His boyfriend’s a stripper.”
“And here I thought you meant female strippers,” Jazz muttered, putting a hand to his head and scratching at his scalp.
Mari laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I thought about it, but -- all of the female strippers I know, they don’t do private parties.”
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Just how many --”
“Plenty of them,” Mari said, giving Jazz a slow, calculated smile. “C’mon, Jazz. Give Savin one night of having another man writhe on his lap --”
“No.” Jazz glowered at her. “And I would be saying no if you got a female stripper, too, so don’t even try that angle.”
“Can you at least hear out my idea, first, before shooting it down entirely?” Mari asked, frowning into her coffee cup. “You won’t even let me get passed the stripper! There’s more to it than that, you know.”
“Let me guess -- drinking, at your apartment, several of his closest friends, the stripper putting on a show, and cake?” Jazz asked, smirking at her. “I mean, Savin doesn’t like big, public things --”
“Says the man who proposed to him in front of the entire Empire -- but go on,” Mari said, giving Jazz a sardonic smile. “Do tell me how to throw your fiance a party.”
Jazz’s face burned and he hid it behind his own coffee mug, glancing around Mari’s small apartment. “Fine. Tell me the whole idea, beginning to end, then.”
“We’re going to use your apartment, for one --”
“I don’t have an apartment. I have the house I’m trying to sell and the Palace -- but please, go on,” Jazz said with a wink.
“Obviously I meant the Palace. Obviously,” Mari said with a laugh. She leaned back in her own chair. “Unless you think the house would be better? I mean, I assume it’s empty and that we could basically turn it into a pretty sweet party pad.”
“I suppose we could... I could always pay for clean up, too,” Jazz said. He frowned into his coffee cup. “So was I just about right, then? Drinks, the stripper, and a small group of friends?”
“Savin’s got more friends than you realize -- the group ain’t gonna be small,” Mari said, smirking. “But that’s it, basically. Except...”
“Except?”
“How do you feel about crossdressing?” Mari asked, dropping her eyes to her own coffee cup. She sipped at it before puckering her lips.
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “As in, for myself, or...?”
“In general -- but I like that you thought I meant you crossdressing,” Mari said, draping one arm over the back of her chair. She examined her nails closely and glanced at Jazz.
“Well, if you want the stripper to crossdress, I guess it’s moot because there won’t be any strippers at Savin’s bachelor’s party,” Jazz said with a shrug. “But otherwise, crossdressing doesn’t really do anything for me, either way.”
“Did you know Savin finds it really, incredibly hot?” Mari asked, keeping her eyes focused elsewhere as she tipped back the coffee cup once again. “I mean, men in skirts is practically a fucking fetish for him.”
“No, begging is practically a fucking fetish for him,” Jazz corrected.
Mari just grinned back at him, shaking her head. “That is a fetish for him. There’s no ‘practically’ about it. Men in skirts and heels, though? He doesn’t need to see that to get off.” She paused and tapped her fingers against her cup. “What if I told you that Devin -- that’s the stripper’s real name, by the way -- what if I told you that Devin was on his way here, right now, so that you could meet him before the party? And that he has several skirts for you to choose from?”
Choking on his coffee, Jazz slammed the cup back down onto the table, banging his chest in order to help clear the coffee from his lungs. “Are you fucking serious?” he coughed. “Mari, I already said n --”
A knock on the door cut him off, and Jazz felt his stomach twist and turn. Mari grinned. “That must be him!” she said, scrambling out of her seat.
Jazz just shook his head, pushing himself out of his seat to follow her to the door. As he did so, he folded his arms over his chest. He watched as Mari swung the door wide, and his jaw nearly fell to the ground as it revealed a tall, beautiful man behind it.
“Oh, fuck no,” he murmured. Mari and Devin both turned to him, their eyebrows raised and his face growing hot as he looked away from them. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mari -- you really can’t be serious. Savin wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off this guy.”
“That’s the entire point.” Mari grinned, ushering Devin inside. He, too, had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Jazz intently, a slight frown on his face. “We want to get Savin all riled up for the second half of the show.”
“Second half?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean, second half? You said there’d only be the one stripper.”
“You assumed there’d only be one stripper,” Mari clarified, shutting the door behind Devin. She pushed Devin toward Jazz. “Devin, this is Emperor Callahan -- or Jazz, as he prefers it.”
“Yo,” Devin said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He then cleared his throat and turned towards Mari. “Need a different name for him, too, if we’re gonna keep shit a secret.”
“I know,” Mari said, smirking. “Though not everyone knows his nickname, either. The media just calls him by his full name and title -- and most of Savin’s friends haven’t actually met Jazz, except the ones who work at the hospital.”
Jazz’s eyes widened, and he put up a hand to stop Mari from continuing. “Wait wait wait -- you’re not -- you’re not thinking of making me the -- the second half, are you?”
Devin and Mari both grinned at him, their lips pulling upward slowly. “Didn’t get to telling him yet, huh?” Devin asked, cackling.
“Nope,” Mari said, laughter filtering through her tone. She closed the gap between herself and Jazz, the twinkle in her eye unnerving him somewhat. “See, I knew you wouldn’t go for giving Savin a stripper for his bachelor party unless you were there to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid -- which, trust me, Savin’s capable of doing some pretty stupid shit, and he might hit on Devin because I mean -- look at him. They don’t call him ‘Princess’ for nothing, but -- he would never cheat on you, either.”
There was a pause as Jazz glanced at Devin, studying the taller, younger -- definitely younger, he realized as his face felt hot once again -- man. How his long, dark hair was pulled back tightly, not a single strand out of place and those piercing, amber eyes. If Jazz were single, he might take a chance hitting on Devin himself.
Might.
And the image of the same man, barely dressed and in a skirt and heels as Mari had advertised, just made his face burn hotter. The train of thought distracted him so much, he hadn’t realized Mari had continued speaking until he noticed her lips had stopped moving. “I’m sorry, say that again?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Devin and focusing on her entirely, once again.
“She wants to dress you up like a chick and have me teach you how to strip,” Devin said, deadpan with the slightest upward quirk of his lips.
Jazz blinked, his mouth dropping open again as the words slowly registered one by one. “You want me to do -- what?”
“We want you to give your fiance the best strip show and lap dance of his life, all while dressed as a scantily clad woman, ” Mari repeated, grinning. “And you’d make one hell of a woman, Jazz. Trust me. I’ve been designing your stripper outfit since Savin told me he wanted me to plan his bachelor party.”
“I --” Jazz shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “Mari, this is such an awful idea. What if word gets out that one of the strippers was me? What if there are pictures?” He could just imagine the headlines now. How he’d become the largest joke of the Empire, all in a single night.
“Phones will be confiscated at the beginning of the night and returned only after they’re leaving,” Mari said, giving him a confident look. “Savin’s need for privacy comes first, and the party’ll be small -- they all understand that even being on the list is an honor, at this point. Also, makeup is a wonderful thing. I am also really good at it. Savin’ll recognize you, I’m sure, but -- I doubt anyone else would.”
Jazz bit his lip. “I need to think about this,” he said after a moment, dropping his eyes to the floor. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up, his eyes widening and face burning as he realized it was Devin’s hand.
“Think about it this way, Emperor,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Not like any of ‘em’ll be fucking sober by the time you make your entrance. And Mari said you had a house we could use -- could always get dressed and made-up there before the party gets there, so no one sees you dressed as a girl, either.”
Jazz just bit his lip harder, looking away from them both, eyes narrowed in thought. He imagined himself writhing on Savin’s lap -- imagined Devin in his place -- how Savin would touch him but not Devin. He even tried to imagine Savin’s face as the pieces slipped together, a hesitant, uneasy smile pulling his lips apart as he turned to Mari.
“If you can guarantee that the paparazzi won’t get ahold of any pictures of me --”
“I can,” Mari said, lifting her chin. “Devin can even rig up something that makes their pictures come out all fucked up, if they try.”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t be hard to do,” he said, slipping his hands inside his pockets. He then smirked. “Should warn you that I’m not above making out with you and posing with you for the party. You okay with that?”
Jazz had to hold back a whimper at the mere thought of him and Devin making out, and forced his eyes away from the other man, lip caught underneath his teeth once again. “As long as Savin was okay with it, I guess it’d be alright -- as long as it was just part of the act, I mean.”
Devin and Mari shared a look, one that made Jazz’s face burn hotter than it had all night.
Just what in the world had he gotten himself into?
Part 2