Marco gulped at his Redbull, making his way to the bouncer.

The bouncer grinned while handing over the registration clipboard. "Good show as always Bodt."

Marco forced a grin at how extra nice some of the bouncers were to him. "Thanks." He handed back the pen and turned to leave.

"Oh, shower's busted. Dunno why – plumbing issues."

Marco cursed under his breath, then plastered on his default 'every-thing under control' grin. "No worries, I'll just shower at home."

"Ain't your boy gunna find out?" Marco cringed at both the thought of Jean finding out and the bouncer referring to him as 'his boy.' "If you want," the bouncer started after a moment, "you're welcome to come back to my place and shower there. I get off only an hour from now."

Alarm bells blared in Marco's mind, causing him to involuntarily take a step back. "No, no it's fine, I can think of something when I'm home. I wouldn't want to cause you the trouble." With that, he disappeared around the corner to grab his things from his locker and leave before the bouncer responded.

Marco inched open the front door, wincing at the creak. Turning quickly, Marco lightly shut and locked the front door; moving his hand up and down the wall, he felt for the closet. The hall light was off but he used the glow from the television in the living room, directly across from where he stood. Marco didn't dare turn on the light. Feeling the doorknob with his fingertips, Marco eased the door open and slipped the bag off his shoulders. Pushing it deep into the closet, he leant gently on the door until it closed with a soft click.

Wondering about flickering TV, Marco turned around to peer into the living room. It didn't take long to spot Jean curled up and sleeping on the couch. Grinning in slight panic, Marco hurriedly tip-toed down the hall, so Jean wouldn't wake up from feeling watched. Now his shower was more dangerous since Jean wasn't in the bedroom on the other side of the flat but was just down the hallway from the bathroom.

Marco still really needed a shower. He couldn't leave the body paint and glitter on all night; not only would it stain the sheets but if it became too stiff and crusted, scraping it off would be painful. Maybe he could pull off a quick shower, fast enough that it would be over before the sound stirred his sleeping boyfriend. He was used to speedy washes in the club's shower after all.

He slowly ran a hand through his hair; glitter sprinkled out onto the floor. Great. Something else to sneakily deal with; yet another secret. Marco sighed, and slid into the bathroom.

Marco gently closed the door and slipped out of his clothes. Stepping into the shower, he turned it on. Cold, and then hot water poured on him, washing off the pink and gold body glitter and non-toxic paints. Marco gazed down at the rainbow of colors running from him and pooling around his feet. He almost became lost in the steamy heat of the shower, but the noise was risky and his stomach grumbled.

Shutting his eyes, Marco worked his fingers through his hair as he scrubbed out glitter and sweat. Glitter was near impossible to completely remove.

With a sigh, Marco turned the water off and wrapped himself in a large body towel. Rubbing a smaller one through his hair just to keep it from dripping, Marco left it tousled.

Opening the door he smacked right into a heavy-eyed Jean, arms folded. Jean stared at Marco silently for a minute, though it seemed like an hour.

"Marco, when did you get in?"

"I, uh, just-just a bit ago…"

Jean just stood there, watching Marco shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. When he finally spoke, Marco jumped. "This is the third time this week you've snuck in at 2am."

Marco winced, he hoped he'd been more subtle with that. Sucking in air, he held it, mulling over his next few words as carefully as possible. "Well, I know you go to bed so early!" Marco started, waving a hand defensively. "The bar moved me to the night shift."

Jean brushed his fingers through his hair. "Why didn't you just say that before?" Marco couldn't tell if he bought it or not. Jean's face was unreadable.

"I didn't think of it, the change was recent." As Jean nodded, seeming to have bought it, Marco wanted to cringe. He hated lying to anyone but especially Jean. The two of them were together. They should be able to tell each other anything. But Marco couldn't bring himself to tell Jean he was a stripper. He knew what Jean thought of the job: reducing yourself to nothing more than fresh meat for people to gawk at and do whatever they want to.

Marco didn't think this mind-set was very fair. True there were times he felt like all he was doing was putting himself on display, but at the same time that was part of what he liked about it. He was comfortable with his body, the dance moves helped keep him in shape, and it made him feel powerful to reduce people to spectators, only allowed to watch him move in awe, and then pay him for it.

"Alright, just, maybe tell me next time? We need to be able to tell each other things." He sighed before jerking his head in the direction of their bedroom. "C'mon, let's go to bed."

"I'll catch up in a minute, I'm going to eat something quick."

Jean nodded and made his way back to their bedroom.

With the towel wrapped around his waist, Marco headed down the hall after him and into the kitchen. He sleepily made himself a ham and cheese sandwich, and poured a glass of milk. Falling heavily into a chair, Marco sighed. He needed to talk to Jean about his job. He hated keeping secrets, but he just wasn't sure how the other was going to react to hear his boyfriend was a stripper and had lied about working as a bartender.

Marco ate without even tasting his food, trying to think of how he could possibly tell Jean the truth and not lose this relationship. He knew Jean was right. In order for relationships to work, both members needed to be honest with their partners; and Marco wasn't.

Once he finished, and brushed his teeth, Marco passed back through the kitchen to find Jean asleep in their bed. Slipping in beside him, Marco soon was too.

The following morning, Marco stumbled into the kitchen to find Jean adding milk to two mugs. "Morning sleeping beauty." Marco greeted him back with a kiss.

Jean handed a mug of coffee to Marco before sitting down at the table with one himself. "So the bar has you working different shifts now, hm?"

Marco tried not to cough on his coffee. "Yeah." Marco mentally cursed for not being able to say anything else.

"Is there another late one tonight?" Wondering where Jean was going with this, Marco nodded truthfully. "Do they give you any breaks? Maybe I can bring you some dinner."

Shit, shit, shit. "Oh, it's alright, I know the cook there, he usually gives me a free dinner."

"Oh, are you sure? You're always so hungry when you get in."

"The kitchen closes hours before I finish work. Umm, maybe I can ask the cook to make me a sandwich before he goes." Marco felt sick. The lies were piling up. Maybe soon he wouldn't be able to keep track of them all.

"Well, alright then. You've got it all worked out." Jean finished the coffee, and put his mug in the sink. "I'll be home by six if you change your mind. I'd love to have a drink that you serve me." Jean kissed Marco, picked up a file, and left the room. Marco heard the front door open and close.

The day was his. Marco decided to practice his dance routine, then go for a swim. He also needed to buy a sandwich from the deli, so he wouldn't come home starved, or his lies would fall apart. All day, he worried about Jean, and what to say. How could he change his story and not hurt Jean? The day passed in a blur. Just before six, he left for the club.

"Aaaaand, THAT WAS HOT COCOA! THE HOTTEST, SEXIEST CUP OF HOOOOBOY IN THE WOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRLLLLLD!" The emcee screamed into his microphone. The crowd hollered and clapped. A sweaty dancer zipped off the stage, grabbing a few tips from outstretched hands.

"NEXT UP! STARRRRRRR CANNNNNDY! HE'S SWEET AS SUGAR, AND HE GLITTERS LIKE A STAR!"

Marco checked his Velcro pulls one last time, and waited a few more seconds, until some music started to play. "STARRRRR CANNNNNNDY! MAKE A WISH ON THIS SWEET STAR!" The crowd hooted and exploded into applause.

Marco stepped onto the stage, and did a quick spin as the DJ started the first song of his set, "Born this Way". He liked this set. With another spin, he peeled off his vest and tossed it to the back of the stage. The crowd yelled in approval. The next song was slower. Marco undid his zipper, slowly, moving to the music.

By the third song he was in a G-string, and the stage was covered in money. Bending gracefully to collect the cash, Marco smiled and winked at a few customers.

The song ended, the emcee hollered, and Marco grabbed his pieces of costume and vanished into the changing room.

After putting on a robe, Marco asked the bartender for some water. As he drank, one of the bouncers made his way over. It was the same one he'd spoken with the night before.

"Oh great," Marco muttered under his breath. He hated whenever the bouncer approached while the club was open and Marco was on duty, it made it harder to quickly leave.

"Another great show, Bodt."

Marco forced a cheerful smile, stepping a little closer to the bar and out of any shadows. "Thank you."

The bouncer leant against the bar a little too close. "So how did it go last night? Did your boy find out?"

Marco made a point of checking the time. "I, um, no. I better go, I think my next dance is soon."

The bouncer glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the far wall before turning back to Marco. "Nah you've got time. You're not on again until 10. Let me get you a drink."

Marco felt uneasy. The bouncer memorised the times he went up. "Um, no, thank you, but I shouldn't when I still have to go back on stage." Marco looked past the bouncer, pretending to be called by someone. "I'm sorry, I should go." With that he quickly made his way to the other side of the bar, slipping past scantily clad waiters and waitresses.

Leaning against the doorframe to the changing room, Marco let out a slow sigh and brushed a hand through his hair. He hated that bouncer. It was the same every shift. True, the patrons had their fair share of chatty moments, but he was always the most persistent, never taking 'no' for an answer.

While Marco was lost in his thoughts, one of the other dancers approached him. "Hey, Marco, everything alright?" Marco only nodded. "That one bouncer giving you trouble again?" At Marco's second nod the other dancer let out a sigh. "You really need to tell someone about that."

Marco let out a sigh before muttering quietly, "He's not the only thing I need to tell someone about."

The other dancer tilted his head, "What do you mean?" After a moment he continued, "have you still not told Jean about this?" Marco glanced down at his feet. "Marky, you should tell him, it's not fair to either of you to keep this secret. If he truly loves you he won't leave you."

The guilt of keeping this a secret was eating away at Marco. It wasn't perfect, but Marco really did enjoy this job. Maybe he should finally talk to Jean about it.

That night, Marco went over the conversation a few times in his head on the way home. The talk wouldn't happen until morning, but he wanted to be ready.

The shower at the strip club still wasn't working, so Marco quietly showered at home again. This time Jean was in the bedroom.

After his shower, Marco passed through the kitchen and found a cold dinner on the table, wrapped in Saran Wrap.

He couldn't keep lying to Jean about this.

The next morning Jean woke up first, finding Marco sleeping soundly next to him. He watched him for a moment, then reached out and lightly brushed some black strands of hair away from his forehead.

It wasn't long before Marco started to stir. Jean kissed Marco tenderly. "Morning."

"Morning Jean, thank you for the dinner you left out." Marco began bracing himself to finally talk to Jean about his job. "I have something to talk to you about." He trailed off.

Jean sat up, seeming to get that this was serious. He waited for Marco to tell him.

"I, uh, well, you see… I haven't been fully honest lately about my job." Marco took in a breath and let it out slowly. "I don't exactly work at a bar. I really was recently switched to a night shift, that part was fully honest, but it um, it's a strip club." Marco fidgeted nervously with a corner of the blanket.

"A strip club." Jean repeated. He watched Marco quietly, expression unreadable. Marco almost jumped when he finally spoke again. "How long have you been working there?"

Marco hesitated, "A few months before we started dating. Once we did start dating though, I talked to my manager to make sure I was only on the stage and waiting tables. Nothing else."

"You had done other things before though." Marco remained silent. Jean sighed through his nose. "Do you like this job?"

Marco nodded, "It has its issues, but I do."

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth from the start?"

Marco's gaze focused on the corner of the blanket as he pulled and crumpled the edge. "I also really like our relationship and I know what you think of strippers."

Jean reached forward, gently tilting Marco's head back up to him. "I really like our relationship too." He brushed his thumb against Marco's cheek. "We'll figure out how to make this work." Marco's brown eyes widened before he moved forward, embracing Jean tightly. Jean wrapped his own arms back around Marco. "No one's … hurt you or anything there, have they?"

Marco shook his head. "No, the bouncers throw people out if they start getting aggressive." Marco pulled back, looking Jean in the eyes. "There is one bouncer though, he's, well I think he's starting to get stalker-ish. He's memorised my schedule and he keeps trying to buy me drinks and convince me to go home with him." Marco paused. "He scares me. He's the only one, everyone else there is alright. In fact I've become friends with most of the other dancers."

Jean looked ready to kill. "Aren't they doing anything about that?"

Marco winced, "Well, I haven't reported him yet."

"Marco!"

"I made a complaint when it started! But since no real crime has been committed, I know they won't do anything."

"He's stalking you! That can escalate quickly!" Jean huffed, though he didn't yell. Yelling at Marco wouldn't fix the issue. "Right, when you go there next I'll come with you and we'll report him together. I won't leave until he doesn't work there anymore. Maybe I'll replace him."

Marco paused, watching Jean carefully. "…Really?" Marco's whole face lit up at that. The two would finally be on similar schedules which would let them have more time together, and he wouldn't have to walk alone to his car when leaving.

Jean nodded. "Yeah, really."

Marco threw himself into Jean's arms. He should have told Jean sooner, and avoided all of that stress and secrecy. He closed his eyes while Jean brushed his fingers through his black hair. "I love you, Jean."

"I love you too, Marco. Just promise you'll be more truthful with me, yeah?"

"Yeah. I promise."