Marco and Nicolas walked into the club, and straight away, Marco's ears twitched and his eyes squinted. He almost forgot the one reason he'd always avoided going to the club with Nicolas, and here he was, remembering every little detail.
The red light. The way skin paraded about. And the sweat. He hated those three words together; they managed to pierce deep into his brain and tug at a memory he would love to forget.
Just when Marco was about to be drawn into the world of nostalgia and worry, his best friend nudged him.
"Hey! Are you good?" he asked.
Marco shook his head, dispelling any bad spell away from him, and nodded at Nicolas. "I'm cool. Not that you can help solve anything."
"What do you mean? I'm about solving something now," Nicolas said with a sheepish smile, his teeth flashing.
Marco shook his head with an irritated expression as Nicolas added, "Your sex life. Like, get a lady or a guy… whichever. Get laid, and you might not have to consider dying your hair."
"Harsh," Marco muttered, shaking his head. And just then, he felt something.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he felt uneasy. He turned toward the direction that feeling came from.
"What? Why did you suddenly go quiet?" Nicolas asked, brows arched in confusion.
But instead of replying, Marco raised his hand and placed a finger on his lips. "Don't distract me. I feel like someone is spying on me."
"Oh, come on," Nicolas rolled his eyes. "So you think one of your cases just decided to follow you to the club, the first time you've come here, or what?"
"I don't know, just shut up," Marco said, frustrated. His eyes finally managed to focus once Nicolas had gone quiet.
His gaze trailed over the many people, then stopped on one standing alone. The guy's eyes met his and quickly looked away.
"What?" Nicolas said, coming closer to Marco and leaning on his shoulder. He followed Marco's gaze, and a bright grin spread across his face.
"Eh… that chocolate is the one spying on you?" he muttered, staring at Luis from afar.
Marco nudged Nicolas off him and hissed lightly. "I thought wrong. Harmless."
"Do you like him? Should I get him for you?" Nicolas teased, his eyes trailing over Luis, trying to get a better look at his face as he'd just turned his back when he came to meet Marco.
"No, why would I like him?" Marco said with an irritated face. "I wonder how you think."
"I get, I get. You like girls. Then I'll find a chocolate one for you," Nicolas said firmly, already scanning the room.
Marco stared at him, barely stopping himself from knocking his fist on Nicolas's head because, truly, he was annoying him. He looked around the club and spotted the sitting area, the sofa he remembered being reserved for exclusives.
"Hey," he called to his silly friend, and Nicolas looked at him. "Would you follow me and go sit down, or would you keep sniffing around like a cat?"
Nicolas looked around and snickered. "Me? Sniffing around like a cat?"
Marco didn't respond. He just left Nicolas standing there and walked toward the seat. As he got there, he sat down comfortably, and then, raising his head, a great view was before him.
Nicolas joined him, and his eyes also set on the view. Before them were gay strippers. With only the third leg between their legs hidden by condom boxers, their oil-slicked bodies glistened under the club light as they danced on the pole, twisting gracefully.
Nicolas smiled and turned to Marco. "And yet you say you don't like men. What is this view?"
"A mistake. I already sat down before noticing," Marco replied plainly.
"I see. Well, suits me," Nicolas said as he sat beside Marco.
He looked around and spotted one of the club servers, and soon their table was filled with different wines, liquor, roasted steak, and peppered turkey.
Nicolas sat there with wine in hand and a lady on his lap, stuffing peppered turkey into his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his hand buried between her fair thighs, wine following each bite.
Marco, on the other hand, was dry. Just wine in hand, gulping as time passed. His eyes stayed within his reach.
Then, something happened. Suddenly, Marco felt the same feeling he had earlier, as though someone was watching him with interest. He turned in that direction.
And there stood Elias.
Elias had just stepped onto the stage where the pole stood. The other strippers had left, and now it was just him. His upper and lower body were bare, with only his dick covered.
Tattoos masked his chest, but not as much as one would expect while looking at his hands—thete were only lines and written words. His lap bore the drawing of a rose and winding twines.
He had a slender waist, taut thighs, and a well-chiseled chest. Elias stood there under the light, and Marco's eyes couldn't help but stay on him.
His eyes twinkled as he stared at this fair, redheaded boy standing before him. He watched as Elias walked in heels and moved toward the pole.
Their eyes met, and it felt as though Marco was hooked there. His gaze sank into Elias's deep blue eyes, in awe of the exquisite specimen before him.
A smirk curled on Elias's lips as he moved his body seductively around the pole, his leg sliding onto it, his body wrapping around it like a serpent. The redhead danced gracefully, and Marco followed every movement, his eyes fixed.
Meanwhile, Nicolas sat right beside him, watching everything. He stared hard at his friend, amusement visible, and just as the dance ended, he snapped his fingers before Marco. Marco's head jerked toward him.
Marco looked dazed, his brows furrowing. "What is wrong?" he asked.
Nicolas turned his head toward Elias. Elias was off the stage now, busy dabbing his body with a towel. When he noticed Nicolas's gaze, he smiled and licked his lips seductively.
"He's your type?"
Marco was just about to shake his head, but Nicolas's voice cut through: "Don't even think about refuting."
Marco wiped his face with his hand, clearly frustrated. Nicolas was getting on his nerves. Did he really think Marco didn't realize this was a problem?
That he'd been entertained by a boy on a pole? That his attention had been caught for that moment? Marco found it more annoying than all the cases he'd been working on since the start of the year.
He turned to Nicolas and said, "And what if I somehow have a bit of interest in him?"
"No, you don't have a bit of interest—you have a big interest in him," Nicolas laughed.
He gulped his wine and added, "Just go for him. From where I'm sitting, it looks like he feels you too. Who knows? You guys could get it off."
Marco looked toward Elias as he listened to Nicolas's words, and somehow, his lips couldn't help but part slightly before he shook his head softly at the thought that lingered in his mind.
How would it feel pinning him down in my room, under those red lights I'd sworn never to use again? How would it feel if I reenacted that day?
His thoughts ran wild as he pictured it vividly in his mind.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice who had come to stand before him. Elias was done cleaning his body and had changed into shorts, leaving his upper body bare. Now, he walked slowly toward Marco.
There, he saw the man clearly. Elias nodded in greeting to Nicolas, then tapped the one lost in thought.
Marco felt a hand on him and looked up.
Behold—it was his pole boy.