Luis Romero

“Don’t you want me like I want you, baby?”

[thesuperstripper]

[ brandon larracuente, bisexual, cisgender male + he/him/his, none ] luis romero is a regular 24 year old go-go boy at a discrete, superhumans only nightclub. best known for giving a lapdance to a prominent superhero and prominent supervillain in the same night. their friends and family adore them for being confident & playful while those who don’t enjoy their company would say they’re reckless & attention-seeking. if you asked them about these miracles and calamities, they’d say indifferent to superhumans, but i don’t blame them. and they might not be in the limelight like those heroes and villains, but i still want to be their friend since i heard that an interaction with a radiation based superhuman left them with an extremely sensitive chest!

[thesuperstripper]

The moment he spotted them backstage, he smiled slow and knowing.

“Well,” he hummed, shutting the door behind him, “either security’s getting sloppy… or you came looking for me.”

Neon light caught against the sheen of sweat on his skin as he stepped closer, close enough now for his cologne to linger between them.

“You know,” he said softly, fingers hooking beneath the chain around his neck, “most people have to pay for a private show.”

His gaze dipped briefly to their lips before returning upward again.

“But maybe I’m feeling generous tonight.”

[matterofsurvival]

Things were… complicated. Not in a there-is-no-solution aspect but enough to give Alistair a slight headache and a need for distraction. With Hive gone, other villain groups were attempting to climb the power ladder. Unruly members of the False Mask had either left or abandoned the faction - but then again, Alistair did not care. Gone with the weak. Cull those fuckers and let them rot for all he cared. Now, the leadership sort of fell into his lap. Unwanted and unnecessary. He was always the power behind the curtain. The one pulling strings and making people dance to his tune. Maybe a rebranding would be needed after he dealt with the Gossamer aspect? It mattered not. Alistair did not give two flying fucks about those sorts of problems now. Not when he was in a dire mood for a distraction. Sure, the club was more focused on empowered individuals ( which he was ) but his identity as Smoke was a very, very well-guarded secret. For now, just a lonesome politician seeking entertainment for the night. Definitely beat calling some escort service… He had Bunny but the blasted guy simply left after the whole invasion thing. Was he alive? Dead? Maybe he should search for him to make sure JJ was at the very least alive… but then again, he merely left. Why should he care? "Ye' want me to pay for a private?" Head tilts to the side, Scottish accent thick past his lips as Alistair gives the other man a quick head-to-toe look, almost as if considering the option of actually entertaining the thought of paying for this. He had the same treatment at Smoke && Mirrors and he didn't have to pay a dime… so why do it here? "Are ye' really that talented that ye'd make me open my wallet? Lots of guys talk the talk, luv… not many can walk the walk."

[thesuperstripper]

he couldn't help but chuckle, the other man actually had the cheek to challenge him. well, if it was a challenge he wanted, it was a challenge he was going to get. "sweetheart, you do realise you're not at smoke & mirrors right now, don't you?" he begins, voice dripping with seduction as he looks the other up and down - he already knew who smoke was, he might look like a dumb himbo, but he could read just about any person and know exactly what their deal was - spending a lot of time naked around heroes and villains would train him well for moments like these... and he knew exactly what he could do to rile him up and entertain him, as well as ease his troubles. "as much as i've wanted to work there, for some reason, I never caught your eye..." he walked over to his dressing table, pulling out a box and getting out a rather expensive looking cuban cigar. "it's a shame really..." he began, gently pushing the other into a chair, popping the cigar into the other's mouth and gently lighting it with the lighter pushed into the valley of his ample chest. "that's a party trick I learned really early on, in hopes of getting your attention..." as he flung his shirt to the sides, a satisfied smirk danced across his lips, if that doesn't get the interest of the other - nothing will. "there's plenty more where that came from, papi...but the man with the cold hard cash gets to call the shots."

[thesuperstripper]

The moment he spotted them backstage, he smiled slow and knowing.

“Well,” he hummed, shutting the door behind him, “either security’s getting sloppy… or you came looking for me.”

Neon light caught against the sheen of sweat on his skin as he stepped closer, close enough now for his cologne to linger between them.

“You know,” he said softly, fingers hooking beneath the chain around his neck, “most people have to pay for a private show.”

His gaze dipped briefly to their lips before returning upward again.

“But maybe I’m feeling generous tonight.”