If anyone asked, Evan would say that he was eating ice cream and watching a nature documentary on the couch in his living room.
Evan was not doing that. He was actually listening to a Taylor Swift album, trying not to cry, as he drove towards the nearest strip club.
"Fucking- Fuck! Fuck you- you fucking- you fucking- you- you asshole!" Evan stuttered as he took one hand off the steering wheel to wipe his eyes. "You cheating, lying, fuck- fucking dick!"
Evan's boyfriend had cheated on him. Had been cheating on him. With a woman. With his wife. The man had said he was gay, as gay as a homosexual could get.
But no, the piece of shit was instead very straight and using Evan for his money. He was so straight, he had a fucking wife.
Evan was starting to regret taking the job that got him his entire career.
He pulled his car into the strip club's parking lot. He wiped his tears once more, trying to calm himself down. He blearily looked up at the neon sign proclaiming the name of the club; Jazzie's.
Evan knew the club was open, even though it was late afternoon. The dancers wouldn't be on until six, which was about an hour away, but that was okay. Evan wasn't sure he came here for the dancers.
He got out of the car, after shutting it off. He checked his pockets to make sure he had his wallet before striding to the door and stepping inside.
There were four people in the room. Two women sat at a small booth in the corner, whispering animatedly about something or another. A third person was dressed in a black waistcoat, bare legs peeking out and connecting to a pair of feet clad in black combat boots. The boots were worn and scuffed in places, and the laces were mismatched. The left foot was adorned with a yellow lace that seemed too big for the boot with how the loops dragged on the ground. The right foot had a purple lace that seemed too small; the complete opposite.
Another glance revealed that the person had shoulder length, glossy, brown hair that covered their face as they talked with the bartender.
Evan walked up to the bar and sat a few seats away from the mystery person, and as far from the whispering women as possible. The bartender listened to the low lull of the mystery person's voice for a few moments before walking over to Evan.
"What can I get you?" They asked, their black curls bouncing slightly as they shifted their weight from foot to foot. Their name tag read "X" and nothing more.
"Something strong," Evan muttered as he looked down to avoid the pity in the bartender's eyes.
"Coming right up," X replied as they turned around to grab the liquor.
Evan looked around the room before catching the gaze of the mysterious person on him. He gazed back, noticing that their eyes were blue with brown flecks. They had a tall, thin nose and full lips. They tossed Evan a small smile, and he tried to return it.
He wasn't very successful, apparently, as the mystery person got up and sat on the stool beside Evan.
"I'm Connor," they greeted.
"I'm E- My name is- E-Evan," Evan replied lamely, looking up when X placed down a shot.
Connor watched him drink the shot before they spoke up. "Let me guess, breakup? Or... someone passing away?"
Evan looked at them before gesturing to X for another. "First one. Fuck- Fuck- Damn prick." He grabbed his freshly refilled glass and threw back another shot, once again gesturing for another.
He was about to toss his third shot in a row down his throat when Connor grabbed his wrist.
"Whoa there, Evan. You keep going like that and you'll get alcohol poisoning," they murmured.
Evan shrugged, gently pulling his arm away to toss the shot down.
"But then you'll miss the show," Connor purred.
"It's just- It's only gonna be a bunch of n- a bunch of barely dressed girls. Not- Not quite my type," Evan spoke, letting the world roll off his tongue without a care.
"That's where you're wrong. I'm the main act, sugar."
Evan's eyes quickly darted up to meet Connor's, almost unbelievably.
Connor nodded, pulling open their waistcoat to reveal a black lace corset. Evan wanted to see what they were wearing around their bottom half, but he didn't want to ask.
"That's hot," Evan spit out, immediately gesturing for another shot to drown his embarrassment.
"Mm," Connor hummed, their eyes glittering with glee, "I'm off duty right now, but later I could give you a blowjob. If you want."
Evan shook his head, trying to clear out the thoughts of Connor on his knees, but Connor didn't take it that way.
"Oh, no? Lap dance? Or I could fuck you? Or maybe I could rim you, that'd be nice."
Evan crossed his legs and sent a glare at Connor. "J- J- Connor, shut up."
Connor glanced down at Evan's legs before smirking up at him. "Want me to deal with that?"
Evan grabbed the shot glass that was refilled sometime and threw it back before speaking. "L- Look Connor, I came- I came here to get w- to get drunk, not laid. You're- You're beautiful, and I would prob- I would definitely take you up some other time, but- but not tod- not tonight, okay?"
Connor deflated slightly before stretching out their hand. "Phone."
Evan slowly handed it over, watching them enter themselves into his contacts. They saved themself as "Connie XO."
"Oh, wait- I'm sorry I should have asked before- are- what do you- what pronouns do you use?" Evan stuttered out as he took the phone back.
"Pronouns? They/them," Connor murmured, almost as if they were afraid of the reaction.
"Oh! Cool, cool... I mean I always use they/them pronouns when I don't know someone's actual pronouns so I was already using they/them for you. So now I won't have to switch it up, and I was correctly gendering you! I'm sorry I ramble a lot. My therapist says to try and cut myself off so I am. Right now," Evan rushed out. His stutter was almost gone.
Connor smiled endearingly at Evan. "It's cool. What are your pronouns, Ev?"
Evan sucked in a breath at the nickname. His ex had called him that. "He- He- I use he- hi- hi- hi-"
Evan nodded gratefully.
"Well, Evan," Connor spoke, standing up. "I'm on soon. Call me." They left with a swish of the waistcoat, and a wink tossed over their shoulder.
Evan stared after them in wonder. How could someone be that confident- be that gorgeous?
He gestured for the bartender to come near, before ordering a glass of beer. He was gonna be here a while.
Connor had just gotten offstage. They had scrambled to grab their tips and shoved them down the front of their corset. Now they had to get backstage and put them in their mini safe before going out and doing... physical favors in exchange for money.
Yeah, that's how they were gonna phrase it. Sounds better than "sex work for money."
"Hey, Connie?" One of the minor acts tapped them on the shoulder. "There's a drunk guy asking for you out on the floor."
Connor looked at her with a frown. "Blonde hair, blue eyes? Striped blue shirt?"
She nodded and Connor sighed. "Thanks Cierra," they muttered while rushing to the safe.
After they had safely (ha) deposited their money, Connor rushed out to the bar. There were three things they noticed.
One, the dancer was still doing remarkably well considering the distractions. Two, Evan was leaning over the counter with a frown on his face while he talked with the bartender. Three, the bartender looked ready to throw him out.
Connor quickly stepped up to the pair and spoke, " What's going on here?"
Evan turned to glare at the newcomer, before grinning and hugging Connor. "Connie!" He squealed, drawing out the "n's" so it was a four syllable word.
"They," X gestured to Evan, "asked for another shot and I said no. We don't need a lawsuit on our hands. Again."
Connor sighed, looking down at Evan. "I'll take him home."