Whatever it takes

Just a city boy

Summary:Lance just moved into his first apartment and is in desperate need of a job, an actual Iife, and everything that has to do with Takashi Shirogane. Now completely smitten with Shiro, Lance discovers that his newest crush works at a burlesque club in downtown Chicago, and falls completely in love with the life of the dancers on stage. Lance will settle for nothing less than to be on that stage with the beautiful, black-haired beauty named Keith.

Keith, a former stripper and now a burlesque dancer, fell in love and has yet to recover from it. His relationship with Shiro was cut short after an incident at Keith's previous workplace, which led him to seek a job out at Downtown Daibazaal. Shiro's strict rules on not dating coworkers makes working with Shiro difficult, if not intolerable. With no other place to go to, Keith is forced to work through his feelings, or risk leaving the club for another unsafe work environment. It definitely doesn't help this new dancer manages to sweep Shiro off his feet without even trying.

While Lance swoons over Keith's incredible dance routines, Keith can't help but loathe every part of Lance for winning Shiro over.

Chapter 1

Lance couldn't deny that he was, in fact, a lightweight. Nights like these tended to highlight his not-so-perfect qualities, which included (but was not limited by) his inability to say the word "no."

It started out as a sad night, which turned into a "fun" night, which ultimately spiraled back to a sad very-early-morning. Two in the morning was not an ideal time to leave the club, especially if he didn't want the company that came with it. One of the guys he'd been hopelessly flirting with followed him out after a trip to the restroom. Lance's breath still tasted like Altoid-covered, post-alcohol-regurgitation.

Lance was barely a concrete block away from the entrance when someone's arm fell over his shoulder and nearly face-planted him into the sidewalk. "Thought you could ditch me, huh? Where you headed next?" the guy asked, breathing the words into Lance's hair.

He suppressed a shudder as best he could, but it just caused his feet to stagger when the heel of his boot caught in a sidewalk crack.

"I'm just... waitin' for my friend to pick me up," he lied, checking the ridiculous time on his phone. It was treading dangerously close to three in the morning now.

"Mind if I wait with you?" the guy asked. "It gets stuffy in there and I'd much prefer hanging out here with you. What's your name again?"

"Lance," he all but squeaked. "And really, aren't your friends worried about where you are?"

"I'm out alone tonight. Could use the company though." Lance squirmed and tried to duck out from under the guy's arm, but he only squeezed tighter around Lance's neck.

Lance leaned away as far as he could. The man's breath made him want to pray to the porcelain throne again. "Uh...I'm--"

"His ride is here."

The voice came from behind them. Lance glanced over his shoulder, and the breath he took in was enough to warrant a sigh of relief. One look and Lance's semi-intoxicated brain was panting, "I'll take that ride."

Lance's eyes dragged down to where Shiro's shoes shined in the streetlights, and caught the glare of the neon bar lights. His tight-fitted black jeans left... little to the imagination (not that Lance was complaining). His legs led all the way up to a narrow waist and an amazingly broad chest (Lance was going to climb this man like tree if someone didn't stop him ASAP).

Those shoulders (hot damn), those lips (perfection), that perfect white quiff (drool-worthy), which led up to short black hair that Lance wanted to card his fingers through, and see mused up in the morning after one beautiful night to heaven.