POISON

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Watching the other dancers on stage had been a habit he'd formed the day he'd began working at Nerve. He hadn't been experienced in the slightest, but the manager had liked him enough to hire him on the spot. So, to better his dances and the way he moved, he'd observed how the others danced and practiced.

None of the dancers he'd known back then worked here now, all having left to start at other clubs or quit this type of work. Even though he'd been the youngest, he'd stayed the longest.

And even though Gerard didn't like him in the slightest, he had to admit, Sacha was pretty damn good. He knew more tricks on the pole than Gerard did, so he made a mental note to improve in that particular area soon.

At the moment, he was waiting for his turn on stage, already dressed to the nines. Leaning back against the counter, he'd spent the past half hour sitting around and observing others. At the bar, he'd been eager to talk to Frank, who had been rather busy for the most part.

Three minutes before he was due to perform, though, Frank found a window of free time and leaned over the counter to place a kiss to Gerard's cheek, successfully garnering his attention.

"Darling," he greeted softly, his breath tickling Gerard's neck as he kept close.

A smile automatically spread across Gerard's face, and he turned his head to face him properly, one hand coming up to lightly grip Frank's chin, drawing him in for a chaste kiss; his lips tasted like alcohol and with the lazily crooked smile he gave him, it was safe to assume he was buzzed. "Hey, sugar. You doin' okay?"

"I'm doin' really good." Frank folded his arms on the counter, moving closer still. "You want a drink?"

"Ah, I can't, I'm on stage in five." He didn't need to heighten the probability of tripping over in the very high heels of the go-go boots he'd recently bought.

"Hmm, can't wait," he hummed, the sound practically travelling through Gerard's bones as he pressed his lips against his skin at his collarbone.

"You're givin' me tingles," he giggled quietly, definitely not complaining.

"You look really fuckin' pretty, you know that?" Frank continued, beginning to place soft kisses to Gerard's neck, encouraging him to tilt his head to the side. He was tempted to close his eyes, simply enjoy it, and ditch work. Though, Sacha's playlist was coming to an end, and he needed the time slot on stage to earn the money to pay his rent this month.

"Thank you," he blushed, still not quite accustomed to how genuine Frank's compliments always sounded. "You look very handsome, and a little drunk."

"I'm a little tipsy, yeah," Frank pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. "Don't mean I don't mean it, you're very pretty. Prettiest guy I know."

The smile wasn't ever going to leave Gerard's face. If the counter hadn't been in the way, he would have pulled him in to press their bodies together; he just wanted to be close. Instead, he settled for taking Frank's hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it.

Earlier, he'd come in and gotten dressed in a rush after seeing how busy it was; he hadn't wanted to miss this crowd. Meaning that he hadn't gotten a proper look at his reflection.

Regardless of whether Frank would have been the best judge right now under the flashing lights – Gerard didn't know how much he'd had to drink, but he had been told by Val that they'd been doing shots during the very slow hours of the night – he asked, "Does my makeup look okay?"

Frank's heavy-lidded eyes studied Gerard's face. "Your lipstick's kinda smudged."

"Get it for me?"

He gently ran his thumb over the edge of Gerard's bottom lip. "Perfect."