f2f 002 ⇆ may 11th.
dancerclarington·:
As Hunter watched Mr. Smythe take a sip of his drink, Hunter felt someone bump into him, making him immediately turn around to glare at whoever it was that invaded his personal space. A younger version of himself would take the situation as a means to start a fight, but lately he only used violence when absolutely necessary and, luckily for him, most of the strip clubs he worked at it wasn’t ever needed. Getting fired for breaking a customer’s hand when his crotch was grabbed at years ago was satisfying for only a brief moment. He would one hundred percent do it again if given the chance, however. Hunter took the short distraction as an opportunity to let his gaze drop down to Sebastian’s legs and gradually take in his boss, all the way up to his face in a manner that wasn’t too obvious but certainty wasn’t subtle.
“You’re forgiven,” Hunter said with a small smile. “But I’m not just anyone,” he added matter-of-factly. Hunter seriously doubted that he was the first dancer his boss had seen in public, and he definitely doubted that he was the first one that showed interest in him. It was well known around Mr. Smythe’s strip club that most of the dancers that were into men thought their boss was incredibly attractive. And yet, unlike other clubs Hunter had been in, his boss never showed interested in his dancers in return. Had Hunter not run into him at a gay bar, he would have no inkling that Mr. Smythe was into men, considering no one he knew had the chance to hook up with him. Hunter would love to be the first, and only. He didn’t like to share.
“What are you drinking?” Hunter asked with another smile before finishing off his drink, with full intention of ordering more whiskey once he got an answer from his boss. “And can I buy you another?”
Sebastian paused in taking his sip as he watched Hunter turn to look at a man who’d accidentally bumped him while walking by, dreading what he’d have to do if he saw one of his dancers getting into a fight off duty. The last thing he needed was for one of his top performers to punch a client on the job.
He had to refrain from rolling his eyes as he noticed Hunter’s eyes moving up his body. If he had any doubts about Hunter’s intentions before, they were certainly gone now. If he wanted to get out of this conversation while maintaining his professionalism, he knew he would have to choose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to give his newest dancer the wrong impression.
“A sidecar,” he answered simply, ignoring Hunter’s earlier comment. He was right; he wasn’t just anybody. He was his newest dancer and all the more reason for this conversation to be over as quickly as possible. “But you don’t need to spend your hard-earned tips on me. I’m sure you have a full night planned for yourself without needing to entertain me,” he insisted, gesturing to the dance floor of men who would gladly want to spend a night with Hunter.











