Love On Display

Jon sank down onto one of the bar stools, fingers curling around the glass of ice-cold water one of the barmen had just handed him. He glanced along the bar, relieved when he didn't see Tom; after the fight they'd had earlier he really didn't want another confrontation with him. He looked up at the clock and smiled to himself. His shift was done in just over 15 minutes. He brought the glass to his lips and was just starting to drink it when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before turning his head to look at Eric.

"Room 3. Asked for you personally."

Jon's heart sank and he glanced up at the clock again. "But…"

"Now."

Jon nodded and slid off the stool, pingping through the curtain and making his way down to the rooms. He really hoped this guy only wanted a dance; it had been a long, hot, Friday night shift and he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. He pushed the door to room 3 open, not even bothering to look at his client was was sitting in the chair waiting for him. He climbed onto the other man's lap, straddling him and wrapping his arms around his neck.

"So, you've already paid for the dance," Jon purred into his ear. "But if you want anything else, just let me know. $50 for a blowjob, $250 if you wanna get fucked and $500 if you want a piece of me." He snaked one hand down the other man's chest to his lap, rubbing his crotch until he felt the swelling of his erection gro aga against his hand.

Richie moaned, arching up into Jon's expert touch, his breathing increasing as his arousal grew. He shook his head and grabbed Jon's hand in a steel grip, stilling it. "Jon, no… Don’t'…" He choked out around another moan.

Jon's eyes widened and he looked up, meeting Richie's eyHe sHe shook his head, face turning pale, starting to hyperventilate as he slid of Richie's lap and grabbed a sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his hips. He sat down heavily on the bed. "What…. What are you doing here, Richie?"

"We need to talk."

Jon shook his head. "I'm not paid to talk," he replied flatly.

"It's my money," Richie pointed out, slamming the bills down on the cupboard next to him. "If I want to talk, we talk."

Jon scowled at him. "Yeah, I notice you've got the money for this, but never any when the band needs it."

"I borrowed the money from my mom. And you obviously care about the band so much that you couldn't even be bothered to turn up to a meeting with studio execs this morning."

The anger drained from Jon and he slumped forward, shaking his head. He sighed heavily and took a deep breath, looking up at Richie. "How could I?" He asked softly. "Not when you all know about…. " He gestured around the room.

"I didn't tell them. As far as they know you just dance."

"Oh." Jon blushed again and broke eye contact, dropping his gaze to his hand. "Thanks. Look, uhmm… my shift's nearly done. I've got a place upstairs, if you really wanna talk. " Richie nodded and Jon smiled weakly. He opened the door and led him through the club to the back wall, pulling a thick curtain away to reveal a flight of narrow steps. "It's just up there. Door's not locked. I'll be up in a bit."

Richie nodded and made his way up to Jon's flat. "K."

Jon sighed softly and let the drapes fall back into place. He leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath before making his way back through the club to the small room where he could clock off and change back into his regular clothes. He made his way back to the entrance to his apartment, his heart feeling lighter; Richie could help him, he was sure of it.