Because, Brett... [BxB]

Chapter 13: Long Arm of the Law

We pull up on the opposite side of the road to the club. I'm working tonight and Seth just wouldn't take no for an answer when he offered to give me a lift in. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I wouldn't tell him what I did for a living on our date last week. Even the morning after he was prying when I said that I couldn't stick around all day because I had work. Still, I refused to tell him then. It's only now, at the end of date number three, that I've given in. It's too much hassle to keep it from him and if he runs for the hills, then so be it.

"So, where is it you work?" He looks down the street, eyeing a few restaurants and cafes, a few office buildings. He doesn't even notice the presence of a strip club. Not until I'm staring right at it and he follows my gaze. "Oh," is all he says.

"Yep," I smile and lean across the handbrake to place a chaste kiss on his lips, simultaneously already beginning to push the car door open, "see you soon."

The smile falls when I slam the door closed and turn my back to him so he can no longer see me. Yep. I said, Yep. I run a hand through my hair, clutching my jacket close around me as I shake my head in exasperation, not believing that I'd just acted like I wasn't going to go and dance half-naked for the money of crusty old men.

Just as I reach the paving on the other side of the road, I hear the faint beep that I associate with Seth's car locking and a moment later, his arm falls over my shoulders. Elijah is the first thought that comes to mind, this action -- arm over my shoulders and pulling me into his side -- it reminds me of what Elijah would do when he walks me to and from the station. Seth's scent though, it overpowers my wandering mind and I'm drawn back into reality.

"It's okay if I come in right? It's only right for me to be a good, supportive date. Anything else would be neglectful don't you think?"

"You'll have to pay," I tell him.

He nods happily nonetheless, before adding, "Will I be able to come in the back and see you get ready?"

"I don't see why not. It doesn't open for another half hour or so anyway."

Leading him through the side door of the club, there's no one there to pay us any attention, which I'm extremely thankful for. I don't need anyone finding out about my dating life currently, and especially not colleagues. They're the type to want all the juicy details. I suppose you wouldn't really work at a strip club unless you were comfortable with the concept of sex and thinking about sex and discussing sex. Then again, I work here too. In my opinion, the things Seth and I do behind the safety of thick walls and closed doors should very much stay that way.

We come to a stop beside my dressing table. All the guys get the same, a table, a mirror, a few draws to keep costumes and a few tubs of makeup. The times we use those are very few and far between though, used mostly to cover up hickeys that the customers definitely don't need to see. It's needless to say that after date number two a couple of days ago, I will be using makeup tonight. And just like that, I start to strip.

Seth takes a step to the side to allow me room and I keep going until I'm left only in the jockstrap I wore today. It's prefered to boxer briefs and honestly, I can't see myself in a thong, so jockstrap it is. A heat covers my skin, red, hot blush as I feel Seth's eyes glide over me. Not the only set of eyes though.

"Brett!"

I peer over my shoulder to see Elijah step through the stage door. He's already dressed in his costume, tonight's theme is Long Arm of the Law -- euphemism intended -- so we're going for the whole policeman look. There are slight variations between how we dress and an actual police officer would dress though. For example, Elijah wears leather trousers which are one hundred percent too tight, his shirt buttons are undone displaying his abs and I'm fairly sure that if you squeezed his baton, it would squeak.

He strides over, ruffling a hand in my hair until I shove him away laughing a little and attempting to fix the mess he's made. We've become a lot closer lately and despite his occasional shortcomings, I'd consider him a close friend. He's the only person I can confide in about R.

"How've you been?" He asks.

"Not too bad," I reply, not really wanting to divulge that I'd felt ocean-cold eyes following me home from the gym yesterday in front of Seth who just stands watching the interaction. I do keep catching him glaring at Elijah though before his eyes flit back to my body, a forced smile on his lips.

"You should get dressed," Seth says casually but I can see the tension in his jaw, "you'll catch a cold."

How he's going to cope when I'm standing like this on a stage in front of a crowd, I don't know.

Anyhow, I heed his advice, pulling on some short shorts -- my thing -- and tug a shirt over my shoulders, tying the bottom of it in a knot over my stomach. The last addition is the hat which Elijah picks up from my table and pushes firmly on my head, though ensuring not to flatten my hair which I'd fumbled over tirelessly this morning to give it some volume.

"Stunning," Elijah states, hand on his chin and smirking, "the crowd'll go wild, 'specially with the new dance you've choreographed."

"He's right, you look great," Seth adds.

Then Elijah turns to him, "I'm sorry, but who are you and why the fuck are you backstage?"

Shifting my attention away from the mirror and towards Elijah, I can already see the rage brewing in his eyes. Seth's eyes match his, the warm hazel turning a cold and hard I didn't even know it could as he grits his teeth in frustration with Elijah.

"He's with me," I explain, "You've met, remember? At Starbucks."

"Friends aren't allowed backstage. If the other boys caught a whiff of this there'd be trouble."

"You exaggerate, plus, no one else is here," I try to reason.

Seth's hand hooks around my waist and he tugs me towards him, he presses a kiss to my cheek and my face burns deep crimson. Elijah's going to be fucking pissed. "It's okay," Seth says, "the club's almost open anyway. I'll go round and grab myself a drink." He leans closer to whisper the next bit in my ear, "I expect a lap dance later though," he nips my lobe," I won't take no for an answer."

With that, he bids his goodbye to a distraught Elijah and leaves through the door we came in.