Send "Strip" and I'll give you my muse's reaction to seeing yours dancing at a strip club.
So Marius was finally getting married. Grantaire couldn't say he was surprised, really. The man had practically hung stars in his eyes the moment he met Cosette, and every moment past had just been a practicality. They were made for each other, at least as much as any two people could be, Grantaire reasoned. After all, he wasn't really one to believe in fate or destiny. He did like Cosette, though, and that was enough.
Tonight was the man's bachelor party. It seemed completely unfitting to hold it in a strip club, as Marius blushed even thinking about anyone but his beloved. But Bahorel had insisted, Feuilly agreed, and eventually the lot of them decided to drag the groom-to-be round the corner anyway. Even Cosette was behind the idea.
Grantaire himself didn't much care for strip clubs. Random hook-ups, sure. Casual sex, of course. But watching people dance, knowing that it was purely one sided and the only thing they wanted from him was his money...it didn't turn him on, really. For Grantaire, sex had to be mutual to be sexy, even if the mutual feeling was one of vague interest. But it was Marius' bachelor party, and these were his friends, so here he was. He was just downing his third drink when he noticed Feuilly grinning, stuffing a dollar bill into a toned man's boxers. It was the hair that drew his attention. It almost looked just like--
"Enjolras?" Grantaire asked, feeling the color drain from his cheeks and the drink churn in his stomach. He stood, stepping closer to the dancer, just to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. When he was close enough, he looked up at the boy with a mix of shame and disbelief. "What the fuck?"
