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Z. Luc Haust // Apollōn (radiantdelphi) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-09-25 14:53:00

take yourself to higher places.. PART ONE?
Who: Luc and Joaquin.
What: Rendezvous at the Spearmint Rhino.
Where: Las Vegas, Nevada.
When: Friday, August 12, 2011. Around 8pm.
Warnings: Well, it is in a strip club.. and it is Luc and Joaquin.. I'm thinking.. boobs and awkward? So far.. Okay, so I said nsfw right? Right.
Notes: PART ONE OF TWO. PART TWO, BECAUSE IJ SAYS IT IS TOO BIG. (That's what she said, duh.) Completed awhile ago, but I just got it edited from the logs I had. Also, cameo appearance from a girl that won't be coming to Pax (at least not for now) after all, but she's fun. lol.

Luc was in a great mood by the time he was done with his 'errands' - though the spot on his right ribcage where he'd gotten his first (and his only, he'd decided after having experienced it) tattoo was still sore, the other stop he'd made afterwards had definitely helped take his mind off it.. and the joint he was smoking as he drove back towards the Las Vegas city limits was helping too. All in all, this was a great way to start his vacation, and he was pretty pleased about it - even if he were returning to Las Vegas with his pockets marginally lighter (wasn't that how it always worked, though?). But Luc had always been an avid practitioner of shopping therapy. And there were lots of things to be bought in Las Vegas - and, well.. the surrounding areas nearest to Las Vegas, when they couldn't be bought in Vegas (and there really was only one thing that you couldn't buy in Las Vegas).

He had already shot Joaquin a text message that said simply, "3344 South Highland Drive, 8pm - meet you there. Get concierge to have someone drive you." Because, honestly, Luc had already started his buzz (not counting the pot he was smoking on top of it) and he was.. well, he wanted to see some tits while he continued his buzz. It wasn't like it was something that he needed every single day of his life (unlike some men he'd met), but tonight? He needed it. Really, it was just so much of a want that he convinced himself he needed it - and so he'd have it. And Joaquin could probably benefit from a good lapdance - after all, who didn't benefit from a good lapdance? Luc had no idea. But maybe it'd loosen Joaquin up. Or something.

Joaquin had spent the afternoon on his own, which suited him just fine. It gave him time to relax, calm himself down. He’d gone out taking photos for a while- sitting around that hotel just made him feel like... well, much too poor to be staying there, anyway.

Once he got out of there, he felt a bit more normal, like he was more in his element. And at least he could think about something other than Luc for a bit. Jesus. After how uncomfortably the morning had started off he wasn’t sure he’d be able to worry about anything else, but he managed, at least until he read a text from the other man. 3344 South Highland Drive. He had no idea what he’d be getting himself into.

After changing into something not quite so casual- he was hardly dressed up, but at least he didn’t look so scruffy- Joaquin found himself in the back of a car being whisked away to... wherever it was he was going. Hopefully something not too crazy, but he honestly didn’t expect Luc to throw him into the deep end... Until they got there.

“3344 South Highland Drive, right? You’re sure this is the right place? Are you here?” Joaquin chewed his lip as he sent the text to Luc, standing awkwardly outside the Spearmint Rhino.

A strip club. A motherfucking strip club. Not even a male strip club!

Luc was just down the street a couple blocks when he got Joaquin's texts. The traffic was bad enough, though, that he didn't want to fuck with texting back when he was so close to being there - so he just tucked his phone in the pocket of his black slacks and guided the Bimmer to the Spearmint Rhino. He was going to stop by an ATM before he got there, but he knew the club had one (even if the charge for using it was outrageous) and it was probably better not to leave Joaquin by himself there any longer than necessary. Luc wasn't that big of a douche.

He valeted his car and headed towards the front entrance, smoothing down the front of his dark purple button-down and straightening the darker purple tie he'd paired with it - wincing a little when the inside of his arm rubbed against the ink on his ribs. Joaquin wasn't hard to spot, and Luc raised a hand over his head in greeting.

"Hey!" he called with a grin, long strides consuming the distance between them effortlessly. "I was right down the street or I would've texted you back." He chuckled a little as he gave the other man a quick once-over, brows quirking ever-so-slightly. "Well, I guess it's my fault for not telling you to suit up," he teased, teeth flashing and nose wrinkling playfully as he swatted gently at Joaquin's shoulder. "But I think it'll do. Anyway, c'mon. I need a drink."

He gave a nod towards the club's entrance as he sauntered that direction, thanking the doorman holding the portal wide as he passed - seemingly confident enough in the fact that Joaquin was going to follow him to not worry about checking behind himself for the other man. Or maybe he was just that eager to get a drink in his hands.

Joaquin ran a hand through his hair as Luc approached, not sure if he was relieved or even more worried now.

“Shit-- so I’m underdressed too? I didn’t think it’d be...” He’d worn a grey button-down, no tie, and his least-scruffy jeans. Hardly formal, but he also hadn’t expected to be taken to anywhere fancy. His mistake. At least he’d changed out of his t-shirt and shorts from earlier, thankfully.

“Um...” Joaquin followed quickly behind Luc as he went through the doorway, beyond nervous. He was going to stick out like a sore thumb in this place, wasn’t he? Underdressed, not to mention probably the only man in the entire building not interested in the dancers who were everywhere...

“This is um-- really the only place we could go to um-- get a drink?” he asked, though he really didn’t think it would help any.

After the metal detector, Luc went right for the ATM, drawing out $500 and tucking all of it but his door fee (and a generous tip for the door girl) in his wallet. Truthfully, Joaquin wasn't underdressed for the venue - it was mostly just that he was underdressed in Luc's opinion (not that Luc's opinion really mattered), but it was neither here nor there.

"Not the only place," Luc replied, smiling despite the yellow flag that the comment raised. "But it's one of the better places." He led the way inside the club itself, picking out the cutest waitress in the lineup (a brunette; Luc had a weakness for them) and allowing her to lead them to a table.

The club was pretty hoppin' - plenty of girls to choose from, several stages running simultaneously; Luc's pale eyes flicked across the crowd, lingering only on any scantily clad female he came upon before moving on to find the next. They hadn't even sat down when a gorgeous redhead in a black minidress with some clearly fake breasts wrapped herself around Luc's arm.

"Where you headed, handsome?" she purred, and Luc forced a smile for her.

"Oh, darling, my friend and I need a drink before we decide on that," he replied, giving her a blatant once-over before extrapolating his limb from her grasp so he could slide into the booth the waitress had designated for them - rather far from the stage, but that was how Luc preferred it. "How about you come back and check on us after we've had a minute?" he suggested, though it was more of a veiled order on his behalf.

The redhead seemed to notice it too and nodded before flitting off to go find some other fool to try and persuade up to the VIP section. As soon as she was out of earshot, Luc glanced over at Joaquin with an amused smirk.

"I hate the ones that jump on your shit as soon as you're in the door," he remarked offhandedly before turning his attention to the waitress - though mostly focusing on the dark green corset she was fitted so perfectly into, and the resulting cleavage.

"I'm gonna need a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and some rocks glasses and to open up a tab," he said, fishing out his wallet to hand over his credit card and ID (he knew this rodeo already).

He pulled out some of the cash he'd withdrawn, handing over $100 with the instructions, "I want eighty of that in ones and just hold onto the rest for yourself." Luc was a firm believer in the fact that tips stood for 'to insure proper service' - and in establishments like this, you always got further giving away money straight out the box. Luc definitely wanted to get pretty far tonight.

"And if you have any girls that you think we might like, send them our way," was Luc's final request before dismissing the waitress, teeth setting into his lower lip to bite back a devilish grin while his eyes lingered on her short skirt as she walked away.

"Oh, Joaquin," he heaved a mocked sigh (insofar as much as he could with Theory of a Deadman's "Bad Girlfriend" blasting on all sides and the DJ promoting an 'Amber' on stage), "we are going to be in so much trouble."

Joaquin stared at Luc, chewing his lip. “A better place for you, maybe,” he chuckled nervously, following the other man into the club, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked around. Girls. Everywhere. In very little clothing. Every other man in the building might’ve been excited about it, but Joaquin certainly wasn’t. He had nothing against women- or strip clubs- or any of this. Women were lovely, but... not in the way that he wanted them to strip for him. In fact, if it were a male strip club he probably wouldn’t have liked it much either. Too... Overt, for his tastes.

“Oh, yeah, uh... that’s uh... Always shitty.” Like he knew anything about girls jumping on him as soon as he got through the door. Hell, he was thankful none of them had come up to him. Maybe they just had better gaydar than Luc apparently did.

He couldn’t help but just be mesmerized at how much money Luc was throwing at this. He was convinced that he really was over his head, by this point. He grimaced and looked over at the other man, chewing his lip.

“I think, um, you are going to be in more trouble than me, but... that’s just a hunch.” He smiled nervously, folding his arms over his chest.

Luc's eyebrow arched at the other man's defensive posture, pouring himself a glass of scotch on the rocks when the waitress brought their bottle - and pouring Joaquin a double, because the dude surely did need it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked pointedly, dismissing the waitress (who opened her mouth to say something, but was smart enough to disappear when Luc motioned for her to) so he could turn his full attention to the other man. "I mean, it's just like any other bar except these girls don't have to be drunk to take their clothes off.."

He snorted a laugh and knocked back the scotch without so much as a flinch - just to pour himself a double, because fuck the dumb shit, he needed to get drunk.

"Here, drink."

He pushed the glass towards the other man, eyes flicking down to the amber liquid and back to Joaquin's face. He was about to say something else when the waitress approached again, this time accompanied by a stacked little blonde with a bevy of tattooing across her frame - and Luc's attention was snagged quickly by the little purple bikini the dancer had on.

"Oh, and look - she brought a friend. Good girl," he smiled benevolently, motioning for the blonde to sit down next to Joaquin. She wasn't really Luc's type (he just didn't really get into blondes, nevermind blondes with a lot of tattoos), but she was still beautiful - and clearly, Joaquin needed the attention far more than he did.

"I'm Tink," the blonde said brightly, and it was clear that that wasn't her real name, but Luc knew the game.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Tinkerbell," Luc said playfully, charm turned to eleven as he shook her hand. "I'm Luc, and this is my friend Joaquin. We've been waiting for you all night. Look, we even match," he added, indicating his shirt and the shade of her swimwear.

She giggled at that, pink shellaced fingers coming up to stifle it a bit. "You're good," she replied good-naturedly, giving him a wink as she curled some of her blonde strands around a finger. "You guys from outta town?"

Joaquin shook his head, feeling embarrassed more than anything now. “Nothing, um...” How the hell was he supposed to explain to Luc that he didn’t really like naked women, or mostly naked women. He didn’t even vaguely like them. He didn’t want to be around them or spend money on them either.

“Thanks.” Joaquin gladly took the scotch, downing it without a second thought. He was going to really need it this time.

Oh. Before he even realized it there was a very scantily-clad blonde sitting next to him, much too close for his liking. At least she had nice tattoos? God, maybe at least he could pretend he was staring at her body and not the art on them and look at least sort-of straight. He chewed his lip again, sitting up a little straighter.

“Yeah, um, just in for the weekend.” Joaquin forces a small smile.

Tink's eyebrows perked at the mention of the weekend stay, because she did love tourists - being from out of town herself, it always gave her something to talk about for awhile, and she was very good at talking. Of course, she was very good at lots of things.

"Where you guys from?" she asked while Luc poured her a shot of scotch after she'd waved off the ice he'd offered - and Luc couldn't help but appreciate a woman who could handle her liquor.

"Los Angeles," he replied amicably, passing off her drink so he could nurse his own more readily. "Well, sorta. Lookin' to have a good time while we're here," he added casually, a devilish smirk playing across his mouth.

"I like to have a good time," Tink remarked, taking her shot to punctuate the statement. She cast a glance in Joaquin's direction. "How about I give your friend a dance?"

Joaquin sort of zoned out for a moment, mostly trying to keep himself from making an ass of himself or making it very obvious that he was just... well. Not interested in any of this, for one thing. The last thing he wanted to do was offend Luc, so he just kept quiet, half-listening to the conversation they seemed to be having around him. It all seemed so fake to him- these girls knew what they were doing. The art of bullshitting, really.

A dance. Oh shit. A dance.

“Me? Uh, that’s... No, that’s alright, um, I...”

Shit. What kind of guy turned down a lap dance anyway? He felt like all of his blood was rushing to his head, and he had no idea what to say.

It wasn't lost on Luc that Joaquin had just said no - at least not completely. But, being a natural blonde that was working on getting to his third drink as quickly as possible, he wasn't really thinking too deeply about the implications either.

"Oh, come on," he said goodnaturedly, shooting a none-too-subtle glance between Tink and Joaquin, raising and lowering his eyebrows in a playfully liscentious manner. "She's a beautiful girl. I'm buying," he added, killing off his glass. "And, y'know what? I think you should," he said to her, grinning as he slid himself up out of his seat.

"I've gotta make a run to the little boys room," he informed them, leaving his glass on the table as he sauntered off, shamelessly taking in the scenery (which was mostly women, to be honest) while he made his way to the restroom.

"Looks like it's just you and me, baby," Tink smirked, grayish eyes taking in the brunet. She wasn't shy about letting a hand smooth down the line of Joaquin's collar, manicured fingertips following down the front a little before stopping on his chest.

"And you heard what head dick in charge said," she added with a giggle, swigging back the whiskey in one gulp. She nodded towards the direction Luc had went off in. "I think he'll be gone long enough."

Of course, she could tell that Joaquin was uncomfortable (it was pretty obvious - but she was significantly more sober, and practiced at observation, than Luc was) - she just wasn't entirely sure in what capacity he was uncomfortable. Some guys were just shy, after all, and Tink knew exactly how to handle shy. She could definitely be confident enough for the both of them; this definitely wasn't her first rodeo. Well. It was tonight.

Joaquin could only stare as Luc wandered off, now completely alone with this woman- yes, she was gorgeous, but that didn’t mean he wanted her climbing all over him.

“Yeah, um, looks like.” Biting his bottom lip, he watched as she let her hand slide over his collar, down the front before stopping against his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if she could feel his heart pounding- and again wonder how she’d interpret that. A nervous little virgin who’d never been this close to a woman before? Well- not that it wasn’t true, unfortunately for him, but he also wasn’t interested in women, either.

“Look--” he managed to get out, placing a hand over the one Tink rested against his chest and gently pulling it away. “You’re- um- lovely, and beautiful, and everything but um- can we just... uh, not and say we did? It’s nothing against you, honestly, um, I just...”

Tink cocked her head to the side a little, quirking a defined eyebrow as her gaze followed Joaquin moving her hand away from him. She pursed her lips ever so slightly in a vain attempt to conceal the smile that threatened to take them over - because it would make it seem like she didn't take him seriously, and that wasn't the case. It was more that she found it amusing how awkward Joaquin seemed to be about the whole.. girl with boobs wanting to get in his lap for $20 a song situation. Of course, she always thought it was all kinds of hilariously cute any time she got a customer like this - although this was somehow.. different.

"Oh, I'm sure it isn't me," she said with an understanding smile, disentangling her hand from Joaquin's to slide it up his forearm - a much less forward contact than the one she had previously initated (she was a touchy-feely person by nature; it couldn't be helped, really). "And, well - it's Joaquin isn't it? Well, Joaquin, your - uhm - friend said that he wanted me to give you a dance.. and, see - I'm here to make some money," she added matter-of-factly, cutting all the bullshit aside. This didn't seem like a situation where she needed to tapdance the issues. "So let's not and say we did." She arched an eyebrow suggestively to the brunet. "I'll keep track of the songs while he's gone, and however many that play - that's how many dances we're saying I gave you." She gave his arm a little reassuring squeeze. "We both win?"

Her smile was genuine as she studied Joaquin's countenance to gauge for a reaction to her proposition.

“It’s um, very very much not you. Trust me.” Joaquin couldn’t help but smile a little once he realized that she was going to be more understanding about this than he expected. The last thing he needed to do was offend her and have Luc come back to the ensuing disaster. What a great way to start the weekend that would have been.

“Seeing as um- he’s decided he’s paying for this- that sounds just great to me.” He leaned his head back to heave a sigh of relief before sitting up straight again. At least something seemed to be going in his favor today, even if he was still at a strip club. “Thanks a ton. Really. This trip is just... um, not going the way I thought it would.”

"Good, because I really need the money." She flashed a him bright grin that reached the corners of her eyes. "So you're welcome. And thank you."

Tink leaned against him in the booth, coiling a tattooed arm through and around Joaquin's own that was closest to her, eyes flicking to observe the main stage as she continued to speak to him; it was always easier for her to talk to strangers when she wasn't looking them in the face, for some reason.

"He said you guys were from Los Angeles, right? That's where I'm going. I'm not from here either. Jersey, actually." She actually turned to look at him then, a rare thing (not that Joaquin would know it) - as she did an something even more unusual for herself. "My name's actually Britt. Brittanica. Y'know, like the encyclopedia." Her nose crinkled with her laugh, a light and genuine sound. "But don't tell anyone that." Her index finger pressed into her lips, shushing as much as she could over the bass. "It's a secret. But you should tell me about Los Angeles. I'm so, so super excited about it!"

Britt's face lit up like Christmas when she said it, eyes dancing over Joaquin's face in the dim lighting. "What's it like? And - um.. d'you mind if I have another?" She never just took things; she always asked first, and she indicated her empty glass and the scotch sitting on the table.

“He’s got more of it than I think he knows how to deal with, um, if you ask me. So I really don’t see any trouble in it.” Joaquin chuckled, relaxing a lot more once Tink just had her arm around his. That sort of thing he could deal with, and at least he knew she wasn’t going to do much more. He didn’t really know where to look in this place- watch dancers, he supposed, but he didn’t have much interest in them.

“Yeah, well, um, Newport Beach. He works right in L.A, I don’t. But uh, I’m not really from there either. Alaska. Kinda out of the way.” He watched her for a moment as she turned toward him, smiling a little.

“Our secret.” One of them, anyway. “Uh... It’s not my favourite place, really. I’m not, um... a city person. But if you are then I’m sure you’ll like it.” Glancing toward the scotch, he nodded. “Go ahead.”

Britt tried not to show too much interest in the comment of Luc having more money then he knew what to do with - but made a mental note of it, because those were things a girl liked to hear. Especially if it was easy money - the kind where she literally didn't have to do anything for it. And, hell, she hadn't even gotten the chance to work any of her magic on Luc himself yet. She could walk away from this with enough money to get to Los Angeles sooner than she thought, if she played her cards right. And Britt liked to play cards.

She poured herself another glass (a little heavier than the one Luc had poured, but she intended to sip on this one) and settled back into Joaquin's side comfortably, brushing some of her long blonde hair (extensions) out of the way.

"Oh, I'm an everywhere person," she replied, one corner of her lips tugging despite herself; she hadn't had a good time with a customer (well, unless you counted the old figurative good time - and she didn't) in longer than she could remember if she was honest with herself. Of course, she hadn't really enjoyed what she did in even longer, but it was a living. And a pretty decent one so far. Hell, it'd gotten her almost all the way across the country.

"I would love to see Alaska. Just to say I've been there. I want to go.. everywhere." She laughed. "I know it sounds crazy, but, like, I really do. Of course, I'm also crazy.." She trailed off into another little chuckle, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head at herself. "But, y'know. Aren't we all?"

She shrugged a shoulder and took a sip of the whiskey, wincing a little because good God she hated scotch, but she wanted to get fucked up tonight - so she worked with what she had. Maybe when Luc got back she'd talk him into buying a bottle of something else..

"So how do you two know each other? I take it you aren't brothers.." she jested, because if that wasn't obvious she didn't know what was. "And why's he dragging you here?" That was the more pointed question on her mind, because.. well. She couldn't quite figure out this situation just yet. And she so desperately needed to.

Luc had made it to the bathroom successfully, no problem. Of course, he had to stop and tip the girl on stage before he went (a minor distraction) - and that two dollars turned into five and before he knew it, ten (hey, he respected her talent) before he finally pulled himself away and made it to the men's room. And then the bathroom attendant complimented him on his tie, and that was a little distraction when Luc had to tell him where he got it, make some polite small talk, and then tip the man five bucks.

By the time he made it out, he realized he needed another drink - and that Joaquin had probably only been back there time enough for one dance. It wasn't in Luc's nature to cockblock (oh, if only he knew), so he stopped by the bar on his way back to the table to grab himself a shot. It was while he was up there that a stunning brunette in a champagne-colored minidress approached him - and in her seven-inch heels, she could actually look him in the eye. And that? Was a huge turn-on for Luc Haust.

"Oh, hello," he said as he turned his full attention towards her, leaning his back and elbows against the bar with his scotch in his hand. His pale eyes darted down the length of her legs (and back up again a little slower because Luc couldn't resist) - and.. what was this? Was this.. oh, God.

Luc had to clear his throat to regain his composure briefly as it dawned on him that he was actually.. Jesus H. he was actually teetering on the edge of almost-drunk and somewhat.. aroused. And it was such a bizarre feeling to actually have experienced it so suddenly and so strongly that it took him a second for it to actually register what, exactly, he was feeling.

She offered him a hand, which he shook - and, as he recovered himself, leaned down to kiss it lightly. "I'm Monica," she purred, dark eyes appraising him carefully as she beamed at him when he introduced himself in turn. "What's a guy as handsome as you doing all by yourself?" she asked him.

Luc let her hand drop and motioned to the bartender to get Monica whatever she wanted - which the bartender seemed to already know and began preparing her drink without even having to ask.

"Oh, well - you know," Luc responded casually, taking a sip of his drink as he scoped her out over the rim of the glass. "Enjoying a night out with a friend. But.." He trailed off and let her take a sip of the drink she'd just been handed. "He's kinda busy right now.." He smirked knowingly at her. "You could keep me some company."

Monica had a beautiful smile, Luc had to admit (of course, she probably wasn't as much of a knockout when he was sober and she was in real lighting - but why kill the illusion?). "You wanna get a dance?" she asked as nonchalantly as a stripper could ask a customer if he wanted a table dance.

Luc paused (for effect) as if he were turning the proposition over in his mind a few times - like it was some serious decision with far-reaching consequences (even though it wasn't, he liked her to think it was). "I think I do."

Monica had no problem taking the lead from there.

Once Britt was done pouring herself a drink, Joaquin leaned forward and poured one for himself, figuring that at some point in the night, he was going to need it. Taking a long sip, he nodded.

“I’m um, kind of an everywhere person too. Kinda stationary for the time being, though.” Except for spur-of-the-moment horrible terrible road trips to Vegas with near-strangers, apparently. “Alaska’s nice. I’d go in the summer, though. But um- I totally get you. I love travelling. I should probably still be doing it.” Instead of getting into messes like this one.

“Honestly? I barely even know him. He’s, um... Okay. I’m a painter, right, and he came to my art show and decided he wanted me to paint L.A and Vegas for him, which is great for me because um, he’s throwing tons of money at it. Anyway, um... So I was going to come here alone to take some pictures of the city, right? And... Then he decides it’d be great if he came along- and um, by came along I mean he decided to drive and pay for the hotel- which is huge.” Shaking his head, Joaquin continued, more talkative than he’d been in ages but he just needed to vent to someone. “And this whole time, right, he’s been flirting with me constantly. And then... he takes me here. So I’ve got no idea what to make of it.”

Britt was well-versed in keeping surprise off her face, though her internal eyebrows shot up to the sky - because that explained a lot. At least about Joaquin. Though it threw a very strange shade of somethings on Luc, because now she didn't know what to make of him. Aside from the fact that he was ridiculously gorgeous.

"So - like.. he's paying you to paint for him?" Good God, Luc did have too much money. She'd known a lot of people with a lot of change, but this.. was a new one for her. It'd definitely be going in the book. She quirked a brow slightly, gray eyes meeting Joaquin's. "And are you sure he's flirting with you? Maybe he's just.. friendly?"

Her lips twisted a little because she herself wasn't entirely convinced of that herself - but she always had to play devil's advocate in the sense that she liked to evaluate situations from all angles.

"I dunno. Maybe he's.. just.. not with it?" Another shrug, a helpless offhanded flourish of tattooed knuckles as she brought her drink to her lips. "Or he could be one of those guys that's super in-denial about it..?" Her expression went slightly conspiratorial, because she was pretty sure the plot was going to thicken. "And I'm guessing you haven't said anything to him about any of this.. or - well, like, asked. Asking is probably better."

“Yeah, um, I guess he liked my work and... Who am I to say no to a huge amount of money for my work, right?” Joaquin sipped a bit more scotch before shrugging. “If he’s not, um... That’d be really, really friendly for a guy to be towards another guy, um, if you ask me. Like... I just have no idea what he’s thinking. I dunno if he’s... into me or if he’s just kinda weird or what.”

Tipping his glass back, Joaquin finished it off, then set it on the table. “I haven’t um, asked or said anything. Figured that... Might just make things even more awkward. And I’m not exactly the... confronting kind.” To say the least.

Joaquin was thankful that at least Luc seemed to be taking his time coming back- giving him some time to go on about the whole situation to someone who didn’t know either of them.

"Right!" Brittanica giggled, a high and happy sound as she clinked their glasses together. "I can drink to that. I love a man who has his priorities straight," she approved with a nod, taking a sip of her scotch. "I'd think you were crazy if you had said no to an exhorbitant amount of money for your work. Hell - I've never said no to money."

It was more true than Joaquin would ever probably know, but that was a story for another time. The waitress came by the table then to check and see if they needed anything, but Britt waved her off with a tattooed hand and turned her attention back to Joaquin.

"Well," she started, shifting her weight a little to pull her long, bare legs underneath her frame, adjusting her hips so her six inch stilettos didn't gouge into the flesh there, "you could always.. y'know. Ask."

She grinned at the obvious statement, knowing fully well that Joaquin probably wouldn't have the guts to do so. "Or, y'know.. I could ask for you.." she trailed off, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she twirled a lock of blonde hair around an index finger innocently - well, as innocently as she could, considering she didn't have an innocent bone in her body. "Worst he can say is he isn't interested, and you're no worse off. And you got his money up front right? As long as the check clears, who gives a fuck? Besides - he's super hot," she tacked on, as if that would make all the difference.

"I think you should go for it. If nothing else, at least you could say you got him in the sack." Ah, well, she was always known for her class. "Everyone loves a good notch on the old bedpost." She gave him a little nudge with the arm that was still coiled around his. "B'sides, I think a little action might loosen you up a little. If y'know what I mean."

She laughed again, because it was all in good fun - and she wasn't trying to be mean or anything. She was just speaking the truths she knew. "But if you don't wanna go for it.. I might have to." Britt was never one to let a hot guy go to waste like that. Waste not, want not. And Britt was never left wanting as long as she had a say in it.

“Yeah - me neither. I don’t have enough money to say no to money. Maybe one day.” Joaquin laughed a little. He found himself oddly talkative and open - both things he usually was not, not in the least.

“Ask? I’m not... Really the forward type, you know? I mean um, I’m guessing that’s kind of obvious.” He smiled faintly, but it faded soon after. “Ask for me? Um, and how d’you think you’d do that? I mean... Jesus. I’ve got half his money now - which is a lot, but - still.” Joaquin figured that pointing out that he was pretty new to all of this stuff was pointless. As if it’s not completely obvious.

“I dunno, I mean, um, I want to go for it - obviously. He’s fucking gorgeous and charming and... I need another drink.” Pouring himself another scotch, he sighed. Here he was in Vegas, spilling his damn guts to a stripper. Really?

"Oh, sweetie, I always get my money up front," Brittanica said as her eyes went wide for a moment when Joaquin said he only had half the money - but she guessed it was a different trade, and therefore a different game with different rules. "Not that, uh, we're necessarily providing the same services.. but.. y'know.."

She trailed off then, because that was half a step away from admitting she turned tricks, and she just didn't know Joaquin that well. Of course, it would have been different if he'd been into girls.. not that she was passsing judgment, it was just that if he were.. well, she probably would have propositioned him for a lot more than a lapdance - but, then again, he also would have gotten the initial lapdance. And here they were.

The surprise that had managed to take over her expression was quickly replaced by laughter and another bright smile, and she disengaged herself from Joaquin long enough to top off her glass (which was a little less than half full still) before settling back against him - comfortable as all hell with this guy she'd just met, though she couldn't even begin to fathom why. It probably had more than a little to do with the warm tingly sensation spreading from her gut through her extremities and up to her brain as she took another gulp of whiskey.

"Well - I would like to think I have some tact when it comes to.. these kinds of things." These kinds of things really meaning 'getting people laid.' Even if she wasn't going to do the job (pun intended) herself, she knew how to get it handled still. "You just gotta have a little faith in Tinkerbell," she giggled at Luc's use of her name, because it wasn't something she was often called - few guys she met professionally (that being a loose term) had the presence of mind to even bother with the reference. "I promise I won't roll you under the bus in the process.. and, who knows? Maybe magic will happen." She pulled away far enough to make spirit fingers and cackle, nose wrinkled playfully as she gauged the brunet.

Luc had been dragged off to one of the private dance rooms (that he didn't know they had, but hey - good to know) by Monica - though to say dragged would be to imply that he hadn't gone willingly. And oh, he so had. She wasted no time in pushing his liquor-loose frame down onto the sofa, spilling the little of the scotch he had left - but that didn't matter, because then she was straddling his hips, gyrating them to the beat of "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails (and Luc couldn't help thinking to himself how every girl would probably be richer if they got a dollar every time this song was played in a titty bar).

He couldn't help himself when his now empty hands (he'd almost instantly abandoned the glass, which rolled to the floor) found her hips, sliding over the tan skin of her ass as her minidress rode up from her position astride him. Next thing he knew, she'd pulled down the top of the article of clothing to bury his face in what he could only assume (from what he could actually see) were magnificent (albeit artificial) breasts. It didn't take long for him to get hard at that point, and that was definitely something he couldn't really help - because if he hadn't been feeling his buzz before, he was feeling it now on top of (or technically underneath) a lot of other things he was now feeling too.

He arched his hips up against her own, the friction of his slacks providing little relief for the ache that had grown between his legs - and then his hands were wandering to cup her breasts and feel them out gently. Part of him wanted to get rougher with them (and with her), but he knew where he was (for now, at least) and he at least had the presence of mind (again, for now) to maintain some degree of composure.

He let out a disappointed little noise from somewhere in his throat when she rose up off his lap, moving to the music (which was now "Titty Dancer" by Dan Diamond - appropriately) between his legs, easing down until he could practically feel her breath against his cock.. if only his pants weren't still on. Fuck. The girl gave damn good dances, that was for fucking sure.

His fingers snarled in her hair while she was down there, and his hips rose up again - almost simulating what he would be doing to her had the circumstances been more private - and he practically came with how she looked up the length of his frame hungrily, like she wanted him to do it. Ugh. Godfuckingdamnitall.

"Mm.. you like that, baby?" she murmured huskily, and Luc could only groan a 'yes' as his head fell back on his shoulders - squeezing his eyes shut so he didn't have to look (because that might be the end of him) when he felt her hand grip his arousal and rub through the material.

"Fuck.." he mumbled, breath hitching in his throat and teeth setting into his lip so he could keep himself as quiet as humanly possible - because quiet (during times like this) were not a natural state of affairs for Luc Haust.

And so this went on for more than a couple songs - he'd lost count at four (quite a feat, because Luc always paid attention to music when he heard it), and he had to ask her to stop not long after that (though it seemed like an eternity) because if she didn't.. well, then he wasn't going to be able to.

He shelled out the last of his cash to her (making a note to stop by the ATM again, because he was so not done - in more ways than one now), for which she gave him a kiss that was almost as erotic as the private dances had been before flouncing off to the dressing room to 'freshen up' with promises to find Luc at his table later. Luc wasn't even sure if he wanted that now, because it would just make him want her then, and he wasn't sure that would be so polite for Joaquin..

"Oh, shit - Joaquin!" Luc exclaimed, because he'd forgotten all about the two of them at the table - and that was just plain rude. He was still half-hard though by the time he headed back towards the bar - stopping by there first, because he needed a shot (or two) to compose himself before he went back to them. Fuck. And now he was actually.. horny. Fuckfuckfuck. Fuck. He was going to have fun explaining why he was going to have to disappear again later..

Joaquin chuckled softly. “Yeah, um, painting’s a little bit different as far as I know. I’m guessing um, the fact that this could take me a while to finish might be part of why I only have half. I mean, it makes sense, but this is the shitty part about um, doing commissions. If I’m just selling stuff I’m already finished... It’s a lot easier.”

Especially when you were Joaquin and your social skills were... lacking. Selling an already-finished painting had a lot less trouble involved with it. Not quite as rewarding as the oh-it’s-perfect reaction he liked to get when he painted something for someone specifically, but... Simpler. He took another long sip of the whiskey, a lot more relaxed than he was when he’d shown up initially. At least he was safe for the time being.

“Probably um, a lot more tact than I have. Um...” He couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, shaking his head. “Alright. Fuck it. I’ve got faith.” He smiled, downing the rest of his drink. This was going to be an awful night and he knew it. Glancing up toward the bar, he raised his eyebrows. “I think Luc’s back. Ish.”

Brittanica glanced over towards the bar, and it wasn't like Luc was hard to miss - especially as he slammed back a double with gusto. Like he'd needed that shot.

"Mmhm," she said skeptically, eyeing the blonde male as he waved over at them when he realized he'd been spotted. He lingered at the bar only for a moment longer before striding over back towards the table, and Brittanica whispered, "I got this," to Joaquin before Luc reached them.

"Hey, we missed you!" she greeted him, biting coyly into her bottom lip as she looked up at him from hooded (fake) lashes.

When Luc settled into the booth on the other side of Joaquin, she didn't hesitate to slide herself over Joaquin and into Luc's lap. She positioned one knee on either side of his thighs, raising her weight up onto them as she snarled her tattooed fingers in Luc's golden hair, bringing her breasts up to brush his face lightly before she settled herself down into his lap properly - or, well, improperly in this case.

"So me and Joaquin had a really good time.." she murmured, words hot and breathy close to Luc's ear when she leaned in to say it, shooting Joaquin a glance. It wasn't a lie - she had had a really good time.. just not that kind of good time. "And so, I was thinkin'.. since you already bought this bottle and all.."

Her fingers ran through his hair then to slide down the back of his neck to his shoulders, pressing her body more flush against his. "Maybe we can go to VIP?"

Luc was in no position to be even making decisions at that point - especially not with another sexy little number in his lap and all of this pent-up testosterone and scotch running rampant through his body. Brittanica's breasts made it even harder to argue, and Luc's hands found their natural position resting on her hips - it was one of his other favorite body parts, really.

"Oh yeah?" he replied, and he sounded probably about as dazed as he was feeling then (what with no more blood in his brain at the moment). "And what would we do up there when we seem to be one short?" he asked, like he didn't already have a million and one ideas for what could potentially happen.

And he really didn't think they were necessarily one short.. hell, Luc was actually pretty sure there were just enough people for the party, if he had his way - which he probably wouldn't, and there was no way in hell Joaquin was going to agree to this anyway.

"We are not one short, handsome," Britt leaned back to reply, arching an eyebrow as she let one hand wander over to pull Joaquin a little more towards her - like she was going to have him too. "It's gonna take both of you to handle me."

Joaquin didn’t even get a word in before Britt was sliding herself over him and into Luc’s lap. He scooted away just a smidge to give her - and himself - a bit more room, unable to do a thing but just stare at the two of them. What was VIP and what the fuck were they going to do there, if they went there? Did he even want to know?

A moment ago he’d felt totally relaxed, and now he was just back to being worried about the whole situation. She’d said to just have faith, she had this, but... Yeah, he had no idea what to do now.

One short? For what? Before he knew it Britt was pulling him towards her, finding himself staring up at the blonde seated in Luc’s lap.

“W-What?” he mumbled, wondering what the hell she had in mind when she’d told him to have a little faith in her. Um...

Britt's last words nearly sent Luc off the edge with how ridiculously hot the whole evening (and day, really - thanks to his earlier activities) had him running. And it had been sofuckinglong since he had felt this kind of unbridled desire for anyone - and it wasn't even necessarily Britt that had him so keyed-up, it was honestly just Luc himself repressing every urge he'd had since Nate had died. And even before then, really.

So with as little effort as it took from a man his size, he picked Britt up so he could slide out from under her and out of the booth, tangling his fingers in hers to help her to her feet as well - and Britt wasn't exactly letting go of Joaquin's shirt either. This was the Vegas he remembered.

The waitress had run over to them, seeing that they were interested in taking the party elsewhere - and Britt gave her their usual nodded signal that they were going to VIP, giving her partner in crime (as they would both be making a pretty penny off of this, they knew) the green light to lead the way to the upstairs area.

Luc was better about keeping his hands to himself than he would have been had Britt not been clutching at his fingers - he wasn't one to really give a fuck about what people thought about him in places like this; hell, he could outbid the entire room on whatever the fuck they were getting if he were so inclined. Truthfully, he was king shit around this pile of dog crap.

Britt gave a tug to Joaquin's shirt before letting it go, her arm curling around Luc's waist as she matched his strides up the stairwell - all the way to the back of the separated (and very, very secluded) dark rooms they had set up for people who had the right kind of money to spend. The rooms had curtains, but no doors - even though neither Luc nor Britt entirely gave a fuck either way.

The room itself was cozily dark with a long, red velour couch against one wall and a table with a dimly lit candle on it against the opposite wall - which the waitress (who was damn good at her job and had the foresight to grab their bottle and glasses) set their liquor on before dipping out with only a knowing smile.

Britt gave Luc a firm push down onto the couch, climbing into his lap again in no time to start a dance that she had absolutely no intentions of finishing - it was all just part of her master plan, even as she pulled the triangle pieces of material that her top consisted of to either side of her breasts. While she let her hips do a slow grind against Luc's own, she beckoned Joaquin towards her with one finger, shooting him a sly look as Luc was occupied by the picturesque rack now positioned perfectly bare in his face.

"Nnngh," Luc groaned into them, head falling back a little - except that the hand that Britt wasn't using to signal Joaquin had tangled in his blonde hair, keeping his face where it needed to be so he couldn't catch on to her schemes.

Swearing under his breath, Joaquin lurched forward as Britt tugged on his shirt, sliding out of the booth to follow the other two up the stairs. He was definitely having his doubts about all of this, wondering if it wouldn’t be better to just call a cab now and go back to the damn hotel for the night. Spend the night with the television, why not? Luc seemed properly... entertained without him, anyway.

He kept his distance once Britt was on top of Luc again on the couch, swallowing hard. Once she gestured him to come toward her, though, he shot her a confused look before coming closer, mouthing a silent ‘what?’, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

His idea of a good time didn’t really involve watching a guy he was interested in have a pair of tits shoved in his face, but maybe that was just him. Why the fuck am I here?

As soon as Joaquin was within striking distance for her, Brittania let her fingers curl around the material at the stomach of his shirt, locking them in a vice grip as she continued to shift her weight in rhythm to the music on top of Luc. She ducked her head down to brush her lips lightly against Luc's own, tugging slightly in an effort to get the brunet to make himself comfortable on the couch beside the two of them - though she was beginning to wonder just how successful this endeavor might prove (not) to be.

"Y'know what would get me really hot?" she mumbled against Luc's lips, smearing some of her cherry-flavored lipgloss across the bottom one as she kissed him gently.

Luc groaned a little as her hips shifted down against what was proving to be a nearly painful erection he was sporting - and could barely get out a coherent, "Wha's that?"

That last shot he'd had really had done him in more than either of the other two present would know - and this was just starting to get a little out of hand, really. Only Luc really had no idea.

Britt gave Joaquin's shirt another little tug, shooting him another one of 'those' looks before returning her attention to Luc, a smouldering look crossing over her features.

"I've never gotten to watch two guys make out before.." she whispered it oh-so-near Luc's ear, tongue darting out to flick over the lobe. As if it were some sort of sordid confession she'd never made to anyone but Luc (and vicariously Joaquin), when it was really all a part of the hustle she was running.

Luc's brows shot up and the eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed opened about halfway, fixing on Britt's gray ones. "Really?" he asked, and it wasn't with disgust or objection - but more out of picqued curiosity. Keenly picqued curiosity, for someone who was so intoxicated actually.

He let one hand detach itself from her hip as he remained silently studying her, coming up to twirl some of her hair between his fingers. He was suddenly having a hard time picking through all the thoughts rushing through his head when all of the blood was (once again, goddamnit all) gone from his brain. His first thought was that she was lying, but that was neither here nor there - the second one he managed to glean from the jumble was that Joaquin.. well, he wasn't a bad catch at all, really.

And while Luc had to admit to himself that it had been really nice being close to girls again.. he missed certain things about - well, truthfully, about Nate, considering that was the only guy he'd ever been with, even if they'd never actually had sex there was just.. there was a lot he missed about Nate. On a lot of levels, and only every day he woke up.

Not that Joaquin and Nate were at all alike, there were similar parallels that had initially drawn Luc to him that he couldn't deny. And it was that longing - that want, that need - to have something even close to Nate again that eventually drove him able to tear his gaze away from Brittanica's face and over to Joaquin's, brow furrowed with reluctance and all kinds of warring emotions that riddled his every feature.

Britt didn't even say anything, just darted her eyes over to Joaquin and gave him a slightly coaxing tug of his shirt - because Luc probably wasn't going to say no at that point, but she had a feeling that he was thinking about things too hard to initiate anything himself.

Joaquin sat down on the couch, feeling much too close to the other two but at the same time, he wanted to see where exactly Britt was going to take this. At the very least this was going to be... One of the most interesting nights he’d had in quite a long time.

He felt like he was going to swallow his tongue when he heard what Britt whispered into Luc’s ear, and he wasn’t sure if he loved her or hated her right at that moment. Whether Luc’s reaction was a positive one or not, he couldn’t really tell, much to his distress, but fuck, she kept tugging at his shirt and he knew exactly what that was supposed to mean, just a little push to go for it for once...

You know what? Fuck it. Joaquin wasn’t exactly drunk but he wasn’t sober either, and even if he wasn’t drunk enough to do something this stupid he could always pretend.

Glancing at Britt for a moment, he then turned toward Luc, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Fuck it. Just fucking go for it. Joaquin raised a hand to cup Luc’s face, pulling the other man closer as he pressed his lips against his, a million thoughts running through his brain about whether he was going to get shoved away or whether he’d think he was a bad kisser or... He tried to block them out and just enjoy it.

Ohmyfuckingsweetjesushchrist, Luc thought as he felt the crush of Joaquin's mouth against his own. His brain fractured the moment their lips touched, enough that Luc didn't even realize when he brought his hands up to snarl in the dark brown locks on either side of Joaquin's head, pulling the other man impossibly close as he let himself kiss back with a fervor from all the things he'd kept pent up for sofuckinglong.. and, oh, God - he missed this.

He had been man enough to admit to himself that he missed the intimate contact with another human being - but he hadn't been man enough to admit that he'd really missed being with another man more than he could have ever missed being with a girl. Of course, in his mind, it was just that he missed being with Nate - and that was a truth he would hold fast to for probably a lot longer than he should.

"Jesus H," came out on the breath that whispered into their kiss, teeth scraping across Joaquin's bottom lip when he came back ever-so-slightly for air - and only for a split second before he closed his lips over where his teeth had edged into Joaquin's flesh.

He let his fingers flex in the strands of Joaquin's hair, afraid that if he let go it would break the spell of just how amazing everything felt right in that moment. Like the sparks would die out and everything would go back to that awkwardness that had been each other's company until that point - and Luc didn't want that right now. No fucking way, not when he had this - this taste of whiskey and Joaquin's tongue and desire, fucking desire that he hadn't felt in so long it made his groin ache just thinking about it.

Britt couldn't help but smile as she sat back, observing the scene before her - because this? This was hot. She couldn't give a fuck what anyone said about it - she just loved watching people want each other like this. It wasn't even a sexual thing for her, but it did give her immense satisfaction.

She eased her way off the blonde male's lap, giving Joaquin a final tug of his shirt to indicate he should take her place - and then vacated to stand guard at the doorway, peeking down the hallway from behind the curtain to make sure everything was clear - and also to give the two of them a little space. Luc had long limbs, after all.

Joaquin, at some point, was going to have to make this up to Britt. Apparently confiding in strippers was a really good thing and she was like, the fairy godmother of Las Vegas or something. He didn’t care anymore, not about how unprofessional this was or his inexperience or whether he’d regret this later or anything.

What he cared about was the man now closer to him than ever, hands tangled in his hair, the ridiculousness of the situation a brief thought in his head before he went back to just focusing on Luc.

Silently thanking Britt as she slipped away and tugged on his shirt, Joaquin found himself climbing into the other man’s lap. Huh. Not something he’d done before, honestly, which at his age he felt was more than a little embarrassing - he hadn’t meant for things to go that way, it just seemed like suddenly he was twenty-five and had sort of forgotten about the whole sex and romance thing. One hand stayed where it was, his thumb brushing against Luc’s cheek, the other coming to rest against his shoulder, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

Ohgod. Ohgodohgodohgod - was all Luc could even process at the moment, because ohGod it felt sofuckinggood to have Joaquin that close to him. Although the shift in weight reminded him painfully of that tattoo against his ribs, the pain was what ended up being his anchor right then - and he needed one pretty badly. Why? Because his fingers were sliding out of Joaquin's hair of their own volition, moving down lower to grasp at the front of the brunet's collar tightly for a moment before frantically fumbling for buttons - desperate to find flesh beneath the material as his lips explored to taste the line of Joaquin's jaw.

Jesus. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Christ has risen, it was so, so good - all of it.

He let his teeth drag across Joaquin's skin, not hard enough to hurt him but definitely with intent, finding his way down to lay open-mouthed kisses along the brunet's pulse. His breath was hitching in his chest, fingers shaking with desperation and increasing desire, and he shifted his weight underneath the other man ever-so-slightly - at first. But once he felt the friction of his hips against Joaquin's, he let them arch more insistently the second time - and his slacks were no good at hiding just how aroused he was by all of this. Drunk on whiskey and the taste of Joaquin's skin, he'd even forgotten Britt was in the room (not that she was exactly trying to make her presence noticeable).

He had given up on the buttons of Joaquin's shirt after only having undone the first couple. His fingers abandoned their post there in search of the angles of the brunet's hipbones - and using the purchase they found there for leverage to pull the other man's weight down against his hardness firmly, rocking up to meet the action perfectly.

Goddamnit, he'd missed this feeling - this wasn't something he could get with a girl, no matter how hard he'd tried. And, believe it, he'd tried. He couldn't even begin to think about just what he was doing in that moment - because if he actually had thought about it? He probably would have had an aneurysm. Thank God for Johnnie Walker.

Joaquin was admittedly becoming less and less worried about anything at all, but part of him still wondered if maybe he should stop. After all, this really - wasn’t something he should be doing, especially not here, but...

He could feel Luc’s teeth graze his skin, kissing along his jaw, and he helped as the man fumbled with his buttons, unbuttoning a few more and finding his hands were a lot more steady than the other man’s - though he had no idea how that was possible. Blue eyes fluttered closed as he ground down against the bulge he could feel in Luc’s slacks, a soft groan escaping his throat.

He knew he should stop now, this was a terrible idea for so many different reasons, but he couldn’t let himself. Not yet. Somehow he’d weaseled his way out of his usual cage of shyness and shame and he didn’t want to give that up just yet, not when it felt this good. He’d never done anything like this before, never just went for exactly what he wanted and didn’t back out. Crashing his lips against Luc’s again, his hands tugged clumsily at the man’s tie, hips still pressing down as he felt his jeans grow tighter.