Chapter Text
“ Max! ”
Max jumped in his seat from the sudden intrusion, his hand slipping where he had been applying lipstick and leaving a sharp pink line against the side of his mouth. He groaned loudly as he reached for a makeup wipe and turned in his chair to face the doorway.
“Give a guy some warning next time,” he complained, wiping at the line on his cheek.
Lando shrugged where he stood at the entrance of the dressing room, undeterred by Max’s harsh glare that was burning holes in his head. He sauntered into the room like he hadn’t just given his friend a heart attack and flopped onto the ratty couch behind Max’s seat, spreading his limbs out with a complete lack of care for the revealing clothes he wore. A strap of fabric over his crotch that could barely be considered a thong and basically nothing else, other than a flimsy fake bowtie that looked like it had seen better days. Sure, there was the pair of fishnet stockings that clad his legs but those left nothing to the imagination. Certainly not the hickies on Lando’s inner thighs that stood out like fireworks on his skin.
“Max, you’re not gonna believe this,” Lando continued, shuffling as he pulled various dollar bills from his waistline.
“I better if you ruined my makeup over it,” Max grumbled. He turned his seat back around to face the mirror and continued to wipe away the lipstick. It was a natural pink color with a hint of glitter in it, just enough to make Max sparkle under the right lights.
“That isn’t my fault-”
“It’s completely your fault.”
“-but I digress,” Lando continued, speaking as if Max hadn’t interrupted him. “There’s this cute guy who just sat by your stage who is exactly your type.”
Max finally finished wiping away the faulty line and tossed the crumpled up wipe at Lando.
“I don’t have a type,” he said, puckering his lips as he worked on reapplying the lipstick.
“You totally have a type, mate!” Lando insisted. He threw up his hands dramatically as he sprawled on the couch. “Everyone has a type.”
“Yeah?” Max asked, smacking his lips and setting the tube of makeup aside. “What’s mine then?”
“Pretty boys who would crush you like a grape.”
Max flushed red at the accusation, knowing perfectly well that Lando was correct. He didn’t dignify him with a response and reached for the mascara instead. Lando looked up at his silence and started cackling when he saw Max’s blush.
“Shut the fuck up,” Max grumbled.
Lando continued to laugh, holding his stomach. Max rolled his eyes as he capped the mascara and stood from his seat, making his way to the shelf the employees had dubbed ‘The Wardrobe’. He shuffled through the hangers of various skimpy tops and cursed when he couldn’t find the harness he was looking for.
“Lando have you seen my-”
“It’s under the stack of pink bras.”
Max lifted the stack and sure enough, there it was, black leather standing out with silver buckles.
“Help me put it on.”
Lando stood from the couch at Max’s request.
“I’m serious though,” Lando spoke as he helped Max slip into the leather, buckling the straps on the back. “That guy out there is a ten out of ten piece of ass. If you don’t at least try to tap that I’m going to be very disappointed.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Max scoffed.
“For real!” Lando whined, tugging on a strap of the harness a bit more forceful than necessary. “You gotta take the shot, mate.”
Max finished buckling in the straps around his arms and stepped back to look at himself in the mirror. It was one of his better looks for sure, starting with shiny black heels on his feet and traveling up to a pair of leather boxers covering his ass and crotch. The harness brought out his chest, wrapping tightly around his body in a triangle shape. The silver O rings and buckles attached it to another strip of leather that wrapped around his neck, looking almost like a collar. His makeup was simple enough tonight, with the natural shade of lipstick and a thin layer of blush on his cheeks. He had always been told his eyes were one of his best assets and mascara always brought them out.
“Do you think I even have a shot?” Max asked Lando.
“Mate, look at yourself!” his friend exclaimed. “You’ll have everyone drooling over you in no time.” Lando drove his point home by slapping Max’s ass lightly, making him jump again and glare. Max only turned back to the mirror, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath.
“It’s showtime, I guess,” he muttered.
“Go get em,” Lando encouraged, flopping back down on the couch. “George is on stage three and Logan is doing floor work. I’ll be out there in a minute if you need anything.”
Max steeled himself and exited the dressing room.
-----
If there was one word to describe “Jimmyz Adult Entertainment Club”, it would be loud. Max felt the bass through the floor before getting anywhere close to the main room, the music rumbling through his bones and feeding into the adrenaline starting to course through his blood.
The second thing to hit him was the lighting. As Max pulled aside the curtain he was hit with a beam of red light, making him blink to adjust to the dark atmosphere. As soon as he did, he started walking across the room to his stage. Red lights adorned nearly every surface of the room, from the underside of the bar to around the edges of the stages and the stairs that led to the second floor.
The club was crowded tonight, men and women alike gathered into every corner of the room to drink and gawk at the dancers. Sure enough as Max weaved his way to stage one he passed his coworkers George and Logan, both wrapped into their own little worlds. George was up on stage, hands gripping the pole tightly and swaying to the music. Logan was strewn across some random customer’s lap, laughing at something he had said. As Max passed they met eyes and Logan gave him a small nod, one that Max returned, before they turned back to their respective duties.
Max made his way on stage, taking a glance around to see who he would be catering to tonight. There was nobody unusual, most customers gathered around George, and certainly nobody that could have Lando gushing like that.
Max shook his head as a new song started, and he began to dance.
Maybe Max would consider himself a bit of an attention whore. As the music continued and he danced, more and more people gathered around his stage. He felt the eyes on him, he felt hands reaching out to tuck dollar bills into his underwear, and it made his skin crawl in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.
He enjoyed the attention. He enjoyed the idea of people finding him attractive, of people wanting him so viscerally they were willing to throw money at him aimlessly in an attempt to get Max to notice them. It made his blood sing and it soothed the feral beast inside of him, at least temporarily.
Max’s feet touched the stage after spinning on it and he made sure to sway his hips as he dropped to his knees. The whistles and jeers around him urged him on and he leaned back with a smile, one hand on the pole as he opened his eyes to see who he was giving this show to.
He was met with green eyes focused directly on him, wide and unblinking.
Oh. This must have been who Lando was talking about.
Curly brown hair and eyes locked on Max like nothing else mattered. His mouth slightly parted, one hand supporting his head and the other gripping the arm rest of his seat. Hands connected to arms that looked strong, the dress shirt he was wearing not hiding much else. The red lights cast long shadows across his face but Max didn’t need to see everything to know that Lando had been right about him being Max’s type.
And above all else he was pretty. Max had only seen this man for a few moments and he already felt his heart skipping a beat.
Dammit Lando.
Max nearly slapped himself back to reality and out of his stupor, giving the stranger a smirk and a wink before standing back to his feet. He couldn’t afford to be distracted while he still had money to make.
For the rest of his time on stage the stranger didn’t leave. Eyes bored into Max like daggers the whole time, song after song. Even after Max was out of fancy moves and kept repeating old ones, the pretty man didn’t leave.
It felt familiar and new in entirely different ways. The eyes on him were familiar; taking in their fill of exposed skin, full of hunger that made Max feel like an animal of prey. But he didn’t feel like that now, which made the experience unfamiliar in the strangest of ways. No, these eyes were looking simply just because they could.
Max needed to know more.
-----
Max was almost sad to leave the stage tonight, but at least it gave him time to shove the tips he had received into his bag before making his way back to the floor. His eyes scanned the crowd as he walked out and his heart sunk to see the empty seat where the pretty stranger had sat before.
Which Max chided himself for, because he wasn’t a schoolboy who should be pouting like his dog ran off. So he straightened his posture and found a spot at the far end of the bar instead. He was sure there would be plenty of desperate men to milk for money tonight.
“There’s the man of the hour!”
The voice made Max smile as he got comfy in his seat. If there was someone here he knew he could count on it would always be Daniel.
“There’s my favorite bartender,” he threw back.
“What can I get you? You gotta be thirsty after a show like that,” Daniel offered, setting aside the glass he had been drying.
“A gin and tonic would be great, thanks Danny.”
“Make that two, please.”
Max’s heart jumped to his throat as the pretty stranger sat in the seat next to him, smirking at Max’s surprise.
“Two gin and tonics, coming right up.”
Daniel turned his back and left the two of them on their own.
Up close he was even prettier, if that was even possible. A small knowing smile on perfectly round lips, a face that could convince a nun to sin, green eyes that looked dark in contrast to the red around them. He looked familiar, in a way Max couldn’t place. Maybe he had seen him around his university before?
“That was quite a show,” the stranger said, forearms resting on the bar.
Max blinked back into awareness and out of his thoughts. “Thank you,” he responded, eyes focused on his arms. Veiny arms that could probably hold him down and choke him so perfectly, arms that could-
“I’m Charles,” the man introduced himself.
Max suddenly widened his eyes as his gaze went back to his face. All at once the puzzle pieces slotted into place and it was like the wool had been removed from his eyes.
“Leclerc?” Max asked before he could stop his mouth from moving. He wanted to slap himself; the last thing he wanted was for Charles to think Max was just another weird, obsessed fan.
“Are you a fan?”
Fuck.
“Of Ferrari? Never,” Max teased, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding against his ribs. “I keep up with f1 though. Not much beyond that.”
It was a blatant lie and Max hoped he was hiding it well. He had practically devoted his life to being an f1 fan. Hell, he was studying mechanical engineering in hopes to land a job in working on f1 cars. But Charles didn’t have to know that. To Charles, Max was just another body for hire. It would do him well to remember that.
“Not a Ferrari fan?” Charles asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “What team do you support then?”
“Red bull, all day.”
Daniel came back with their drinks and sent Max a wink before disappearing to help someone else.
“What’s your name?” Charles asked.
Max hesitated before answering, swirling his drink around in the glass and taking a sip. The alcohol burned on its way down in a way it hadn’t before.
“Leo.” A simple stage name, one he gave to all customers. The last thing he needed was weird horny men tracking him down outside of work.
Next to him, Charles scoffed as he drank from his own glass.
“And your real name?”
Max cringed, expecting Charles to be angry. But he wasn’t; he was looking at Max with that same smile that had no right to be so attractive and those eyes that seemed to know too much.
Upon realizing he was being teased, Max dared to lean just a little closer to Charles. This close he could see the freckles on his cheeks, and it suddenly hit Max how good Charles looked in red.
“You can’t afford that, baby,” he purred.
He didn’t think he imagined the way Charles’ pupils dilated. He definitely didn’t imagine the way his lips parted and he let out a breath that tickled Max’s nose. Max smirked and sat back in his seat.
“Fine. Leo,” Charles accepted, his surprise gone and replaced once again with that confidence that made Max weak in the knees. “Why Leo then?”
Max felt himself blush and hoped the red light hid it.
“It’s kind of dumb,” he admitted, his hands gripping his drink like a vice. “But do you know the constellation?”
“The lion, yes?”
“That’s the one,” Max chuckled with a smile. “I had a nickname a long time ago where people called me the lion. Leo just made sense.”
Charles hummed, staring at Max, and suddenly Max felt very exposed. Not for the fact that he was barely wearing any clothes, but for the fact that Charles seemed to be able to read into his soul. Like he could command Max to do something and he would be helpless but to follow. A sheep to the shepherd.
“It suits you.”
Max blushed heavily and looked away, trying to mutter some reply but coming up empty. He heard Charles chuckling next to him.
“Well, pleased to meet you, Leo .”
“You as well, Charles ,” Max answered, saying his name with an exaggerated French accent, drawing out the name on his tongue. He smirked as he saw how Charles’ eyes darted to his mouth before returning to his eyes.
Max was about to mention it when movement caught his eye. From across the bar Daniel was gesturing wildly, making Max furrow his brows. Once Daniel realized Max was watching he grinned, making an O with his fingers and using his other hand to thrust his fingers in and out. Max flushed red and turned back to Charles, but he heard how Daniel laughed.
“Say, want to go somewhere quieter?”
Max watched how Charles smirked against the rim of his glass before setting it back on the bar.
“I think I’d love that.”