rag doll - maylor

hot tramp, daddy's little cutie

(a/n ^^^^MY FUCKING DADS I'M GOING INTO SHOCK CALL THE AMBULANCE!!)

brian may sat in the corner of the nightclub dressing room with a blond boy in his arms, stroking his hair, waiting for him to wake up.

he had watched his performances for several evenings now, enthralled in how gracefully he moved and how easily he danced, occasionally throwing wads of bills at him, though he was sure the boy could get by on his own, judging by all the money that was tossed at him.

brian had watched him walk off of the stage into the crowd, watched a strange man call him a slur and try to hit him. he of course stepped in and "accidentally" knocked the dude out cold. he gently carried the boy to what he assumed was the dressing room and laid him down on a sofa littered with clothes.

peeling the stacks of money out of his small hands, the taller man placed them on the ground beside him, making sure not to tamper or take any of his hard earned dollar bills.

he continued toying with the blond boy's locks, admiring how cute he looks when he slept, when the pole dancer's eyelashes fluttered briefly, before shockingly blue eyes were exposed to the other and the short boy sat up and ruffled his hair, a look of sheer confusion on his face.

- - - -

roger startled awake and all that had happened briefly rushed through his mind before he realized that he was not alone in small dressing room. hazel eyes met his own, and it took him a few seconds to realize just who he was staring at.

the man who saved me.

roger sat up and realized he had been laying in the taller man's arms. how late was it? was his shift over? who was the man? why was he here? all these questions caused his head so swirl so he layed back down and started with a simple question.

roger cleared his throat "who are you?"

"my name is brian may. but you can call me bri. are you alright love?"

roger blushed at the impromptu nickname. something about this particular man was making him blush an awful lot. "i'm fine. thank you for rescuing me?"

brian looked down at him. "anything for a beautiful boy like you."

roger was still flustered from his previous encounter and all brian's flirting did was just fluster him even more. although he was sure his face was bright red, he popped another question.

"h-how did you get in here?"

brian grinned "the door." he answered before leaning over to the side and gently handing roger his hard-earned cash.

upon seeing the money roger's grin widened even more, he cautiously took the money from brian and thanked him before remembering it was still his shift.

"what time is it?"
brian smiled, reached into his pocket, took out his phone and checked the time. "six fifty-five"

"fuck! i've got to get on the floor." roger felt down his clothes, realizing they were soaked in what smelled like red wine and vodka. drinks must have spilled when he fell. "i also need to change."

he walked over to his locker, stuffed his money into it, reaching back in to grab what looked like a spare outfit, walking back to brian and looking up at the tall man "bri i'm afraid you're going to have to leave now, thanks so much for the help."

brian smiled at him before enveloping him in a short embrace, roger smiled into his chest, smelling warm vanilla and new books, feeling protected by the taller man and slightly turned on. he could easily get used to this.

smiling up at him, roger decided to thank him again. "thank you so much for your help dadd-"

oh shit.

roger felt his face flush red again as brian softly chuckled into his hair.

the hug was short lived, brian let go and winked at the smaller boy before walking out the door to find his friends, who were probably quite concerned as to his whereabouts.

roger was due back on the stage in thirty minutes, he quickly slipped on his only remaining outfit, he usually saved this one for special occasions.

first went on the pink thong, making roger realize that he was painfully half-hard.

brian, that bastard.

tough luck, he was going to have to wait a while.

next went on the white blouse and short schoolgirl skirt, followed by knee socks and tightening a tie around his neck, snapping the last hair tie of the pigtails into place just as he heard the announcer call his stage name.

all through his stage routine, dozens of eyes on him once again, roger couldn't take his mind off of the man with the long curly hair and long, slender fingers once intertwined in his hair. distracted, he made a little mistake in his routine by spinning the wrong way, but quickly backtracked and played it off as a tease.

gathering up his money and walking down from the stage, roger went straight to the floor, it was time for him to serve drinks and give seemingly lap dances to nameless men.

well, not all were nameless. one in particular.

-

a bit earlier:

brian has just found his friends. drinking themselves into oblivion, slumping at the barstools, john and freddie were as far gone as could be. he heard a familiar stage name announced before, through clouds of smoke and flashing lights, a familiar short figure on tall ass heels spun around the stripper's pole.

he wanted to get closer to the still-unnamed dancer. nudging his way through the crowd, he was close enough to the stage to see what was going on, but far enough that he was concealed by the shadows. the stripper was doing a new routine, and his clothing, god, brian could have came right then and there.

brian, you see, was generally an extremely kinky guy, as far as guys go. he had heard the blond slip and almost call him daddy back in the dressing room; it had taken everything he had to hold himself back.

currently, he didn't have to hold himself back, letting his imagination run wild. reaching a hand into his pants, past his waistband, he brushed against his half-hard cock, moaning slightly as he wrapped his hand around the tip.

brian imagined the blonde's soft, smaller hands wrapped around his rapidly expanding erection and began stroking, his breathing jagged as he increased the length and pressure of his strokes, closing his eyes from the pleasure.

in his mind's eye, brian saw the smaller boy kneeling at his feet, begging, sobbing for his dick. his breathing became faster as he reached his high.

"f-fuck fuck fuckkk" a wave of pleasure washed over him as he extracted his hand from his pants, grimaced, and made his way back through the crowd to the bathroom to wash up.