(WIP/Editing) Lè Oneshots

Frerard: Gerard Being a Total Slut on Stage

Ship: Frerard

August 9, 2016

Also Vaguely NSFW

AU: Stripper Gerard

Frank walked into the dark club. It smelled heavily of shame and perfume. "Go to the No Fun Club" they had said. "It'll be fun" they had said.

Well, he was going: the review said it was a strip club. Didn't the people he worked with, on a daily basis, know he just wasn't into chicks? He coughed and sat down at the bar. Maybe he'd get good and drunk so he could enjoy the show. "What'll you have, sweetheart?" The barista asked from behind the counter.

"Uh, I don't know..."

A man from a couple seats down looked at him. "I suggest the daiquiri."

"Okay... I guess I'll have that."

The barista went about making his drink and Frank noticed something off about her. Or him. Frank turned to the man who suggested him the drink. "Hey... What kind of strip joint is this?"

The man laughed, apparently he'd heard this before. "Oh man! You were expecting chicks, weren't you? These are guys. But damn, do they look good."

"Oh." Frank laughed weakly. Maybe they did know him better than he thought. He downed his drink before moving closer to stage.

Frank's eyes widened as the next person sashayed out. Their dark makeup contrasted against a pale face, framed by bright red hair.

They wore a fur coat, which was discarded almost as soon as they got on stage, revealing an almost crimson red costume. "Oh damn." Frank whispered when they swung around the pole, dropping to the ground.

They turned their head, winking at Frank. "Call me Poison." Frank nodded, mouth hanging open slightly.

Poison continued their routine and Frank watched on in awe. He had to admit, Poison was hot. But that was the point of strippers. When Poison was finished, they sashayed off stage, grabbing various articles of clothing that were shed during the performance.

Frank went back to the bar, ready to spend his money. "Can I get another one of that first thing I had? The daiquiri?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Poison made their way over to Frank. "You're new here."

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"I'd remember a face like that." The barista set the drink down. "This one's on me."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to buy a lap dance."

"Oh. Sure... I guess."

Frank followed Poison to a back room. It was more private and had booths and tables. It kind of reminded Frank of a restaurant. Except with strippers.

Poison pushed Frank softly down into a booth. They started the show they had done more than a hundred times over, with a little more passion than usual. "You're lucky."

"Why?"

"This is my favourite song."

They danced, hardly thinking about their movement or the money being tucked away almost carelessly.

When the third song ended Poison warned Frank, as was the policy. "Anymore songs and it'll be extra."

"I'm damn near broke so I'll have to pass... But you are the best stripper I've ever seen."

They laughed. "I prefer the term exotic dancer, but thanks. 'Stripper' is so... gendered."

Frank nodded, "I'll remember that." He walked out of the club into the cold night air and back into reality. He shivered and took the note out of his shirt pocket. He was glad he ended up going out and he'd have to thank whoever it was that suggested it to him

A/N I really wasn't sure what I wanted to do with this one. I hope it's good.

Any suggestions, comments, random shit?

Thanks!