Stripper {BoyxBoy}

3

It doesn't take long for the strip club to empty out after closing time. After explaining to Josh why I have to stay behind, I wander over to the bar, watching the last of the drunken stragglers stumble towards the exit.

The bartender's still there polishing glasses. He nods as me as I sit down on a bar stool. I nod back, glancing over to where my boss's office is. There's still no sign of him, and I tap my foot anxiously against the ground.

"Waiting for someone?" The bartender asks, cutting through the silence between us.

"Yeah," I reply, "He should be here soon."

"You can leave now, Paul," A voice says behind us, as if on cue.

My boss seems to materialise out of nowhere.

"So that's who you were waiting for," Paul says, winking at me.

He sets down the glass he's polishing, As he leaves, he slaps my boss on the back jokingly.

"Clean up after yourself this time," He says, before leaving.

Soon, it's just me and my boss. I swallow nervously.

"He's an old friend of mine," He smiles at me, "So, do you want a drink?"

I nod and he busies himself around the bar. He seems to know exactly where everything is, and I feel impressed watching his fluid movements.

"I used to work as a bartender before I took over running the club," He explains, noticing me watching.

Soon, I have some kind of cocktail sitting in front of me and I sip it cautiously, wincing as the alcohol burns my throat.

"Do you miss it?" I ask.

He shrugs, "Sometimes. Things were a lot simpler back then. It's difficult running this place. The  paperwork, and complaints..."

He looks deep in thought before he shakes his head, "Anyway, you don't want to hear me talk about work, do you?"

I don't say anything, just take another sip of my cocktail. He finishes making his own drink and sits next to me.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's this about, sir?" I ask.

"Don't call me sir," He says, "Call me Ethan."

"Yes, si-Ethan," I say, correcting myself.

"As for what this is about, I just want to get to know you better," He smiles at me. "So how are you finding things around the club?"

We soon begin a conversation, and maybe it's the alcohol, but I find myself laughing along with what he's saying.

Not only that but I keep staring at his lips. It might be the alcohol, or maybe the stubble lining his jawline or those witty blue eyes, but I keep imagine what kissing them would feel like. But that's wrong, he's my boss, and I try to push those thoughts out of my mind.

After a few more cocktails, my head is beginning to spin. I try to stand up, and my legs feel a bit like jelly.

"I should go home," I say, slurring my words, "It's late."

"I'll walk you," He says, also standing up, "You're drunk."

"Am not," I say stubbornly, which makes him chuckle.

"Come on," He says, and I follow him out of the club.

We head towards my apartment, the walk passing in a comfortable silence. When I glance over at him, he looks deep in thought.

"Are you single?" His unexpected question cuts through the silence between us.

"What?" I reply hesitantly.

"I've seen you with that redhead quite often, and I was just wondering-"

I quickly shake my head, "No, it's nothing like that. We're just friends." I say.

"Oh, okay," Ethan says, seeming pleased.

Soon we're stood outside my rundown apartment building.

"We're here," I say, smiling at him, "Thanks for walking me."

"No problem." He says.

"I should be going," I say, "Goodnight."

I take a few hesitant steps towards my building, but then he grabs my arm.

I turn around, and his lips meet mine. I'm soon kissing back. My hands tangle into his short brown hair and his hands roam my back and under my shirt. Eventually, we break away for air, and he looks at me sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. I shouldn't have done it. You're my employee and-"

"Shut up," I say, leaning in for another kiss.

It's another minute before we separate again.

"I want to take you on a date," He says breathlessly, pushing a dark lock of hair away from my face, "I know a good cafe around here, how about there?"

"Sounds great," I say.

He steps back, straightening out his shirt. It's hard to see in the dim light that the streetlights cast, but I think his cheeks are as red as mine.

"I'll see you soon then," He says, and then he walks off, turning back to look at me a few times.

"Bye," I say quietly, but he's already gone, leaving me with a warm feeling in my chest.