Dean turned away from the mirror, as the door to the men's locker room slammed open to reveal the smaller of the twin dancers, Billy Ryan. Mentally he shook his head at the number of people who seemingly got off on the idea of twins; but who was he to judge considering the number of times his fantasies had been filled with images of his baby brother on his knees. Shaking his head to dislodge those images before they could take hold, Dean raised an eyebrow at Billy's obvious enthusiasm. "Dude, you know where your bro's liner is?"
Billy Ryan stood in the doorway to the men's locker room allowing his eyes to roam over Dean's body taking in the outfit he'd chosen for the night. Nodding his head in silent approval, he strode over to his brother's open locker and dug through his bag until he found the black liner Dean had asked for. "Here, but make it quick. There's someone in the back room who Greg says you're up to dance for." Watching as Dean produced a Zippo from somewhere; Billy could never figure out where the other man kept it hid, and softened the pencil as he turned towards the mirror to line his eyes. When Dean didn't comment, Billy went on, "Look, I usually dance for him, the guy is always really nice and tips well, but Greg's right – you fit the description of what he's looking for better than I do. I know you don't like the private stuff, but . . . I don't know - just try it?"
Casually turning from the mirror, a cocky smile in place, he rolled his eyes; he'd be so happy when he had the cash to get the Impala back on the road and leave this place behind. Why his baby had decided that she needed to throw a rod within 20 minutes of his little brother's apartment he'd never understand. Being this close to his brother had posed another problem, making money without drawing the attention of the law and possibly drawing Sam back into the life he'd left behind. The only thing he'd miss, were the friends, and occasional lovers, he'd found in Eliot and Billy Ryan.
Finally, he tossed the liner back into Eliot's locker and shook his head as he strode toward the door, pausing to pat Billy on the shoulder, "Man I got it. Just make sure the DJ knows to play 'Beautiful Dangerous'. I am SO not dancing to one of your blues tunes tonight, dude." Then he was through the door, shifting into his 'professional' persona; leaving Billy to pass the message to the DJ while he made his way through the throngs of people to the back room. Pausing here and there to do a little bump and grind with someone to drum up tips.
Once he reached the backroom he stepped through the door and allowed it to shut behind him, blocking out the noise from the main club. Standing in the shadows, Dean let his eyes take in the scene. He hated this room; there weren't any good exit points, outside of the one he'd entered through. Yet he immediately noticed that the chair had been moved. Usually the client was sitting in the middle of the flood light center of the room, but the chair was now situated so that the person's actual face and upper torso were shadowed. However, the long legs encased in worn denim stretched out into the hazy circle of light, slightly spread, and feet wrapped in functional boots leaving him plenty of room to dance in the light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam sat in the crushed red velvet chair just outside of the hazy circle of light, his legs slightly spread as the heavy base line began to pound. He could hear the vibration of the drums begin to shake the room, even before they were audible to him, the guitar's entrance echoing around the room. In the shadows he could make out the silhouetted figure of the dancer, and could see the defused light reflecting off of the muted leather and heavy buckles on the man's boots.
As the music began to escalate he could make out the body beginning to move, a gentle sway of the hips to the beat, moving the dancer closer to the circle of light in front of him. Arms rising, dirty blond head thrown back in abandon, it was as though the body in front of him was one with the music. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the view, so focused on the leather encased crotch; that when the first strong guitar and drum sounded in sink and that crotch thrust itself into the center of the light, dragging the rest of the body with it, he jerked back in his seat.
The vocals began to become actual words and the dancer allowed the rest of their body to enjoy the glow of the light encasing him, yet keeping his back to Sam. The way the muscles moved and bunched, the skin sliding like silk over them, the thin line of scares that broke the spans of ivory as the man danced mesmerized Sam. Involuntarily his heart began to beat faster; his breathing began to speed up-as though the body before him was dragging his climax from him without having ever been physically touched. Black leather hugged the perfectly rounded ass, accentuating the bowed legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. As the dancer turned to face him Sam's breath caught in his throat. Standing before him, in painted on black leather pants, heavy black boots, wide black leather wrist cuffs against his pale skin and what looked to be black kohl around his eyes, bringing their deep forest green color to emerald-was his older brother.
Unconsciously, Sam pushed himself deeper into the chair wanting to make sure that if Dean happened to open his eyes the darkness would obscure his futures. Sam found he needed to make room for his rapidly swelling cock; shifting he spread his legs a bit further apart. Rarely sense finding club 'Mingle' did he allow himself to indulge in this kind of activity, ditching his friends and coming to the club that catered to both men and woman with dancers with varying specialties, discreetly paying for a private dance from someone who fit his older brother's basic description.
Now, as the singer screeched their way through the 1st verse finishing with the guttural sounding 'beautiful dangerous' Sam could think of no better way to describe his brother at this very moment. Turning his full attention back to Dean, Sam noticed the sweat that had begun to run down his body causing it to glisten in the hazy light.
Dean peered through his lashes at what he could see of the person he was dancing for. He could tell that it was a dude, and from the way he was sitting with his legs spread it looked as though he was enjoying the show. Timing his movements with the beat of the song, he moved towards the guy, exaggerating a thrust of his hips at one loud cord, and then straddling his legs as the music headed on. His hands reached out to rest on the large cotton clad shoulders of the man beneath him. As the 2nd verse began to work its way into a crescendo he ground down onto the man's well endowed cock; simulating the fucking that the man obviously wanted to give him.
Sam rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, trying to keep from making a sound as his big brother rolled and ground against him. The heat from his skin was bleeding through Sam's clothes where they touched, sending flames licking along his nerves. Finally, Sam's need to touch won out over the possible loss of the agonizing torture that was Dean wreathing in his lap – Sam's hands found their way to Dean's hips, pulling him down as he thrust up to the grinding beat of the music. Sam watched with hooded eyes as his brother arched his back, arms out, head thrown back, his back bowed to the extent Sam's impulse was to rest a hand there to steady him. Dean was beautiful in his abandon to the music, as his own erection fought the confines of the butter soft leather he wore, hips bucking and grinding against Sam.
Part of Sam's brain wanted to comment that Dean had been holding out on him, while the other just wanted to put Dean over his shoulder and carry him out of the club, away from all of these people who had been looking at, and lusting after his body. Jealousy began to bubble up in him as he pull Dean down onto his denim encased cock harder, grinding up into him on each thrust. As the song drew into its final coda with the singer singing the words 'beautiful dangerous' once again –Sam brought Dean's hips down to meet him as he savagely thrust up and came, spilling his seed inside of his jeans. His climax ripping the pained hiss of his brother's name from between his lips; feeling Dean begin to shift away from him, he wrapped a long arm around Dean using it to hold him close, the other reaching out to cup his cheek holding him still – hazel eyes meeting emerald green just before their lips met for the first time.