If We Are Forever ✓ [NOW RADISH EXCLUSIVE]

1. the good, the bad, and the dirty

stop adding this book to ur bxb mxm reading lists ❤️

ONE
the good, the bad, and the dirty

"Keep your hands off, sir."

An old man gave Santiago a sour look and reluctantly dropped his outstretched hand back down to his side. He'd been prepared to grab one of the performers, probably by the ass or thigh, because that's what most of them tended to do. They had no sense of respect for the individuals on stage.

Sometimes Santiago hated this job. It was loud, crowded, and filled with old men who were married to women and still in the closet. While that was sad, they shouldn't be cheating on their partners.

         He gripped the wrist of the same old guy from before. Or touching people without their consent. "Last time," Santiago warned, voice low to emphasize his silent threat. "Next time you're getting kicked out."

           The man ripped his hand away and scowled. "I paid money to get in here," he sneered. "I should get to do what I want." He went to reach out again, for the performer closest to the edge of the stage, one of the more popular ones, Kit. Santiago grabbed the old man by the arm and roughly yanked him out of the crowd he was in.

            "Arun," Santiago called to his coworker. The dark-skinned man turned and nodded when he noticed the situation, taking his spot for the time being. Santiago dragged the asshole to the exit, ignoring his constant complaints that consisted of many racist slurs and an order to 'go back to where he came from.'

             "I was born here," Santi stated as he tossed the guy out, not giving a single shit as he almost tumbled onto his ass. "But thanks. I'll take your advice." He slammed the door shut, the guy's faint yelling disappearing as soon as he slipped back into the club.

He patted Arun on the shoulder in thanks, taking his spot back. "We gonna ban that guy anytime soon?" Arun asked, crossing his arms. "We should."

"Agreed," Santi muttered. "But the dancers have to put in complaints before we do. So far none of them have."

"At this point, I think they're used to it," Arun commented, frowning.

"Yeah. It sucks."

Arun eventually left when he was called to the bar to take care of a wasted customer, and Santiago was left alone again. He found himself glancing up at the stage, eyes instantly finding Kit's slender figure among the others, silky black hair damp with sweat and falling into their eyes. Santiago swallowed. They look incredible.

Another reason Santi hated his job. Kit Saito. The person was both a blessing and a curse. They were sickeningly sweet, with a toned body and beautiful features, and a golden personality to match. At the end of every performance, Kit would thank every single one of the guards with a soft smile and a squeeze of the arm. They were known to be an affectionate person, Santiago knew that, but it didn't stop him from crushing. Hard. Like he was in high school again.

             The music stopped, then eased into something else, signalling the end of the performance. Santiago straightened up, watching Kit leave, a sheen of sweat glistening on their bare back. Water, was Santi's first thought. They'll all need water.

          He went to walk away, but stopped when he felt someone tap him. Santiago turned around to find a man he'd never seen before frowning down at him, looking (quite honestly) threatening. His light brown skin was littered with tattoos, the majority decorating his muscled arms. He had sharp edged features, with a hooked nose that held a piercing on the left nostril. His hair was buzzed, and Santiago didn't know someone could look that good with a buzzed head. It suited him, in a scary way.