A Case of Strippers and Stalkers
A/N: I can haz all the clichés? Yes, here I am AGAIN and got another idea. While keeping you guys sated with blatant SMUT every chapter in Unexpected Kingdoms, I came up with this idea for a crossover. It contains all the cliché characters that I can come up with:
Gay Strip/Drag Club Owner Shinji
"Straight" Ichigo as a performer who isn't really straight
Stalker bad guy
Undercover John and Sherlock
Eventual kidnapping of Ichigo by his stalker
So yeah, all the cliché, and all been done, but what the heck? Not like I write for you people! Okay, yes I do, but whatevers.
Warnings: Only on the first chapter, so read it well. Torture (sexual and otherwise), language, strippers, lemons, smutty smut, voyeurism, yaoi (slash), yuri (femslash), het, non-consensual stuffs, and….might add more later.
Constructive critic accepted (gladly, unless it is about it being cliché, and then I say I warned you!). Flames shall be used to roast chickens for the after party.
As usual, I don't own Sherlock or Bleach, and I sure don't get paid for this! (I wish, I'd write all damn day if I did).
Setting: Takes place in the Sherlock universe in London. The club is a Japanese themed strip/drag club in London. Takes place sometime after The Sign of Three. Small adjustments to timeline.
Pairings: Eventual SherlockXIchigo Pairing!
Contains: BAMF!John, BAMF!Shinji, Abused!Ichigo, Asexual!Ichigo, Asexual!Sherlock, Ichigo and Sherlock WHUMP. :)
A/N: MAJOR CHANGE! Setting has been changed to post The Sign of Three in Sherlock S3! This means that John is married, so I have officially changed it to an unrequited love between John and Sherlock, and Sherlock/Ichigo romance.
Chapter One
New Interesting Client at 221B
"John!" came Mary's sleep fuzzed voice beside him. He sighed, drawing himself out of a rather comfortable sleep, something rare for the man riddled with nightmares after coming home from Afghanistan. He groaned and saw his wife holding his mobile in front of him. "John, it's Sherlock."
"John!" came the excited voice on the other end.
"What is it, Sherlock?" he said with a bleary fuzz to his voice. Dammit, the night before Sherlock had kept him and Mary up late with that stupid sonic experiment before he left, and now, he groaned, as he saw that it was half an hour until eight of the morning. He'd had about five hours sleep all told. Life with Sherlock was never boring. Even when he wasn't even living with bloody Sherlock anymore.
"We have a client coming in at eight! I got a message from the website from an old friend of mine, and he's coming by in…" He paused. "In thirty minutes so get dressed and get over here! Quickly, John! We're going to his club with him!"
John groaned. "I'm not going without my tea, first," he grumbled, slamming the phone to the side table and headed to the shower, leaving his wife chuckling to herself in the bed.
"Have fun, he sounds excited!" she said with a smile to her voice.
Less than twenty minutes later, he was in Baker St and had just started making tea when there was a knock at the door. Sherlock answered it and led someone upstairs and when they got there he took a double take. John had to wonder where Sherlock knew this person from…
The man was tall and thin, though shorter than Sherlock. He had straight blonde hair with bangs cut at an angle across his forehead nearly concealing one eye and cropped below his jawline. He had a wide smile. His clothes, however, were what drew attention. He wore a pair of tight leather pants with sparkling glitter in the material and a tight black t-shirt with a stylized skull on the front. And he wore heeled boots, stiletto heeled boots, and carried a bright pink messenger bag across his body.
"Sherly! Been too long," he said and planted a kiss on Sherlock's cheek. "Missed ya," he smiled and sat down on the couch, crossing his legs at the ankles and sitting up straight. Dancer? John came into the room and sat in his chair with his tea.
Sherlock grinned at John. "Dr. John Watson, this is my friend Shinji Hirako. He runs the club called Las Noches downtown. And he messaged me that he has a little problem at his club. Want to tell me about it?" Sherlock asked, sitting beside him.
"Of course, Sherly. I have a lot of talent, straight and not, of course, and some of my boys who claim to be straight, aren't. Some of my girls too. One of those is a boy I just hired about six months ago named Ichigo Kurosaki. Ichi-berry is one of those so deep in the closet he can't reach the doorway but damn does he make an amazing stripper and drag queen," Shinji said with a smile. "He claims to do it because it's fun, and he really isn't interested in romance at all."
"Wait, what kind of club is this?" John asked, putting the cup in the saucer carefully.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously a gay strip club, John, really, weren't you listening?"
John cleared his throat and sipped his tea again as though discussing a gay strip club was a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday morning. "Oh, carry on."
Shinji winked at him and grinned again. "Well, the problem is, I think he's got a stalker. He tries to tell me it's nothing, but it is enough that some of the others came to me telling me they were worried for him. Mysterious text messages when he has a private mobile, letters and gifts showing up in his room at the club and his house, seemingly star struck obsession, I know, but I worry because he isn't."
"So you want me to investigate?" Sherlock asked, his grin widened. He hadn't had a good stalker case in a while.
"It would mean going undercover again, my dear," Shinji said with a smile. "You did such a good job last time…I figured it didn't hurt to ask. Besides, I miss seeing that tight ass of yours in the leather I bought you."
"Wait, what?" John said. "You went undercover at a gay club?"
Sherlock nodded. "There was a strange amount of alcohol going missing. Found out someone was selling out the back. Rooted them out after a while."
Shinji stood. "I'll take you there; will your boyfriend be coming?"
"I'm not his boyfriend," John said automatically, standing up. Sherlock didn't comment. "Not gay! In fact, married." John insisted.
Shinji eyed him and smirked. "Okay, honey. Sure. Well, Sherly, can you take a bartending spot and then I'll give a bouncer spot to John-boy? It won't seem suspicious, I need both. Maybe I can tempt you on stage again…you know they loved it when you danced for them."
"Yes, well, we'll see. Should I change or is the club empty this time of day?" Sherlock asked, standing. "I mean, I have nothing right now…except the clothes we bought when I did this before…"
Shinji shook his head. "My head bouncer is there waiting on us, and that's it, and we can go in the back. I brought my car, love. Come on, there doctor Johnny…" he said, winking at John.
John shook his head and followed Sherlock and Shinji down and out the door to a bright red sporty car. John ambled into the small backseat and was glad, for once, of his height. Shinji hopped in and they headed off. Luckily, Shinji was a good driver, despite the fact that most Londoners were completely insane drivers. Before long they pulled into a spot in an alley in one of the downtown areas, he thought Camden Court was nearby if he wasn't mistaken. They got out and went in the back door to find themselves in the typical back area of a club. Cases of alcohol, bar foods, and glassware were stacked on shelves. They headed into the front and it was huge. Open dance floor on one side, the other had a stage with a runway and stripper pole at the end of it, and all around the stripper stage were tables and chairs set up. They walked up to the door beside the stage and headed back to what appeared to be the dressing area for the stage.
"Grimmy!" called Shinji.
"What is it, Shin?" came a gruff reply high above them.
"That detective is here, want to talk to him, hot stuff?" he yelled.
"Yeah, let me get the wiring on this security camera finished."
John followed the voice and saw movement up in the rafters. Finally he followed the shape to a ladder, where a man in blue jeans and a white t-shirt with the world SECURITY in black across the back came down. He wiped hands on his jeans and came over. He had spiky baby blue hair, making John blink.
"Gods, Grimmy-baby, when you gonna take me out?" Shinji purred, putting an arm around the man's waist. "I'd let you have your way with me…" he purred. "Six ways from Sunday, sugar."
"Grimmy" shook his head. "Um hum, and how would your lifetime lover feel about that? I doubt that Kensei would like us fucking behind his back."
"Oh, sweetheart, I'd have him join us…" Shinji teased as they got to where John and Sherlock were waiting.
"Grimmjow Jagerjaquez," he said, shaking hands with both of them. "Ignore my boss; he's always tryin' ta get in my pants. Unfortunately, I'm taken at the moment."
Shinji put on a pout. "Not my fault you're one sexy bastard. I'll tempt you to the dark side one of these days…"
"Anyway, Shin says that you helped him out before, Sherlock, right?" he asked, looking at the brunette detective.
"Yes, I did."
"You sure you can handle undercover here? I mean, no offense, but you seem a little proper…" Grimmjow said, eyeing Sherlock and then John. "And your boyfriend here looks really out of place."
"Not his boyfriend! Not gay! If anyone cares," John said, exasperated by everyone assuming as such. And with Sherlock not correcting them. For godssakes he was even married now!
Grimmjow laughed. "Sorry, I just assumed if you were with Sherlock here, from what Shinji said about him…I mean, man he was a hot number from what I hear…"
Sherlock shook his head. "I'm very good at acting, Grimmjow. Do not worry. The person that comes to tend bar this evening will be nigh unrecognizable. As will John here. But we're putting him with you on Security, so he won't have to act so out of character. He is, after all, ex-military."
Grimmjow nodded. "Know how to handle yerself?" he asked.
"I was a medic, but I did my tour overseas and had hand to hand training, and more experience than I'd like," John said with a sharp nod of his head to the much taller man.
A few more plans were made, and the pair set off back to Baker Street. John had a black t-shirt with SECURITY in white letters on the back and the club logo on the front. Sherlock headed into his room to figure out what he'd wear to tend the bar that night. John called Mary to let her know what was going on. She wished him luck. He sighed. Leave it to his wife to be fine with him spending the night at a gay strip club.
"You have an alias yet, Sherlock?" John called, digging out a pair of jeans and a pair of combat boots of his own closet and laying them in the bathroom.
"Yes, I'll use the one I used the last time. I figure you can go as John Smith." John snorted. Wasn't that just original, he thought to himself.
"And that would be?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Sherl Compton."
"Isn't that a bit obvious?" John asked.
"That's the point, John. It is so close to my name, no one would suspect it of being me," he said, coming out in his dressing gown carrying an armload of clothes John had never seen. He dropped them on the floor. "I'll have to wash them, I don't think I did after this case the last time, they stink of cigarettes and sweat…" he muttered.
Sherlock kneeled and sorted through the bunch and picked up a pair of black leather pants that John arched a brow at. "Hrm, need to take this to the dry cleaners…" He picked up several other shirts that looked way too small to John and another set of leather looking pants, this one time red. He picked those up and stood up. "I'll be back, John, I'll have to pick up some other things for the look."
John blinked and then went to go through the pile. Sherlock was right, they smelled awful, so he gathered them up and took them to the wash, pausing to glance through them as he went. Plain colored t-shirts, mesh shirts, short vests, and a bunch of different scarves and fabric belts. All of them could be washed, so he put them all in. Sometime later, he brought them up in the basket and folded them. Sherlock came in bearing a couple bags after that.
"What'd you have to get?" he asked, taking the dry cleaning backs and laying them across the couch.
Sherlock sat at the table and unloaded the bags. First he pulled out makeup, khol, pan base, and lip gloss. Then a bunch of hair products, including a highlighting kit. He grinned at John and held it up. "Can you help with this? Last time I did it myself and it didn't turn out well as I would have liked…"
John shook his head. "Yes, what else have you got there?"
Sherlock nodded and continued unloading the wares. Deodorant in a strong scent, a vial of oil, a chained wallet, a black leather choker, and a matching set of cuffs, a card with several earrings on it, and a necklace with a thick ring.
"Well," John said, looking over the stuff and holding up the necklace. "This have some meaning?" he asked.
"Shinji said that they've had quite the BDSM crowd in lately, so I picked that up to entice them to talk to me a bit, in case our stalker happens to be among them," he said with a grin.
"Why does this mean BDSM?" asked John, truly curious. He honestly had no experience in that lifestyle than getting the occasional person in the A&E because of consensual damage. Those were always uncomfortable and it was so hard to sort out what was domestic violence when someone said it was their way.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's an O ring. One of the earliest novels about BDSM is a slim volume called The Story of O. Because of that, it has become symbolic. I'm not advertising as a Dom or sub, that'll be up to them to decide. Last time I dabbled in this group, they assumed me a Dom without any prompting. It kept me from getting hit on, and gave me a chance to ask questions and have them answered."
"So you're playing gay, then?" John asked.
Sherlock arched a brow. "Of course, it's a gay club, John. I have to play the part. Help me apply this stuff, first."
John sighed and played hairdresser for his best friend. He was amazed by the softness under his fingers, though and he smiled subtly as he finished. "There you are, set a timer for half an hour, then wash it out," he told him.
Sherlock nodded. "Now, I've got some research to do before we go, I'll be in my room. We'll leave about three for the club so we can get our new employee orientation."
John shook his head and went about his day. After finishing with the paper, and calling in for a week of personal time from the surgery, he went and cleaned up, amazed by the flood of junk in their previously pristine bathroom. He hoped this case didn't last long. Just as he came out, Sherlock was going in. He looked over John in the t-shirt and jeans and nodded.
"Good, you'll fit in with the bouncers perfectly, John, despite your short stature," he said with a nod before closing the door.
John clenched his fists and shook his head, seating himself with tea before he punched Sherlock and made him more convincing as a member of the BDSM community. Before long, he came out of the bathroom and John couldn't believe his eyes. He looked like a completely different person. He moved over to the table with his normal fluid grace and attached the chain wallet to his belt loop through which he'd tied a red scarf. He was wearing the impossibly tight leather pants, and even so managed to get the wallet into the front pocket. He put on the cuffs and choker with the silver necklace that dipped almost to his navel. His shirt was a very tight fitting t-shirt in deep purple with a deep v that revealed his defined collar bones and the muscles of his pectorals. In truth, there wasn't much hidden because of the tautness of the shirt. He smelled of something…
"Patchouli," Sherlock supplied, pulling the cuffs tight. "Overcomes any other smells surrounding it. Considered erotic by many in the club scene, and hippies."
He'd put on the pan makeup, smoothing out his skin tone even more, and applied thick khol around his eyes, making their light color pop even more. His hair was done with gel and the soft curls were spiked out around his head in a tastefully "just rolled from bed" way. The blonde highlights they'd put in his hair only made it stand out even more than normal. He'd used gloss on his lips, making his defined cupid's bow lips stand out. John blinked rapidly and swallowed. Well, that was an odd reaction to seeing Sherlock like this. And here he was a married and not gay man at all.
"Now, is this sufficient to cover my identity, John?" he asked, arching a brow.
John nodded. "I'd say. Let's go, then. Almost three."
Once outside Sherlock looked at him. "We'll go with the story that we're flatmates, keep your ring on, say that you're married but having difficulties with your wife so you're staying with me for a while if anyone asks questions about it."
"Good enough," John said with a nod.
They hailed a cab with Sherlock's amazing cab summoning ability, and rode in silence. John paid as they pulled up in front and then exited. Sherlock stood stiffly for a second and then closed his eyes and relaxed into a stance completely unlike his normal. He shifted his weight to rest mostly with a hip cocked to the side and when he walked, instead of the fluid grace he held himself normally with, he almost sauntered. John blinked and shook his head, following him into the club.
They entered the front of the club and Shinji squealed loudly. "Sherly!"
He came over and kissed his cheeks with a grin. "I forgot how damn tasty you looked like this, sweetie!" he said. Behind him a well-muscled man with short silvery hair came up.
"Kensei, I told you about when Sherly here worked for me. And this is his…friend…John Smith. Sherly is going to tend bar and John is Grimmy's new pet," he said grinning at the man. "Sherly, this is my boy Kensei, you remember I told you we met not long after you were here last time!" he said, pulling the man next to him into a one armed hug.
Shinji turned around. "Hallibel!" he called and a tall blonde woman came over. "Hal, honey, take Sherly here and get him ready for the bar tonight. Who is it tonight?"
"Mashiro and Rose are working the bar tonight," she said clinically. "Come, Sherl. I will set you up. I hope you haven't forgotten your training from last time."
"Nope, Hal, sugar," he said, and John heard the slight accent he put into his voice. It was strange, hearing his voice altered so drastically. He watched him walk away curiously.
He felt a hand clap his back and looked up to see Grimmjow. "Oi, hey there, John. Ready to meet the rest of the crew?"
John nodded. "Sure thing, Grimmjow."
"Please, just Grimm. You met Kensei already, he handles the security of the strippers and the drag shows inside here. He likes to keep a personal eye on Shin," he said with a wink. Kensei nodded and left.
"Quiet, huh?" John responded.
"That he is, come on," he said, leading toward a room in the back that resembled a break room. Inside there were a bunch of people in the security shirts all lounging around and chatting. They looked up with curiosity as the door opened.
"Guys, this is John, he's starting tonight. John, this is the crew." He pointed to a huge man with spiked black hair. "Kenpachi, but we call him Kenni," he said, pointing to him. Then, to a huge dark skinned man with a bald head. "Zommie," he said. "Kenni and Zommie are both on the line during the first part of the night." Next he pointed to a tall girl with green hair and huge breasts. "Nel, no touchy, though John, because she's Halibel's, the blond that runs the bar." He gestured to a man with light skin but a star shaped afro. "Love," he said. "And hands off him, too. Him and Mashiro are together." He then pointed to an extremely short man with silver spikey hair. "And Toshiro, but don't let his size fool you, boy is deadly dangerous. And finally, Ikkaku, here," he said, gesturing to a built bald guy. "And watch out, his boy strips, Yumichika. So watch the wandering eyes on that one. Ikkaku and Love are on the line the second half of the night."
John and the security crew talked at length for a while, discussing where their experiences came from and what got them into the security gig. He found them all fascinating people and looked forward to actually getting to know some, if not all, of them better. "Now, let me take you to meet the dancers," Grimmjow said with a nod to the others. "You'll be inside, of course, and I've put you on stage duty. Kensei has the backstage, but I want you at the front."
He led him back behind the curtain and there was a flood of cursing and yelling. "Fuck! Fuckin' hell, Uryu where the goddamned hell is the fuckin' outfit for tonight!"
Grimmjow sighed. A dark haired man with glasses came out holding a pile of dark blue material in his pale hands. "I just finished, Ichi. Calm down, such a drama queen!"
A young man with blindingly orange hair came out of the back wearing a pair of low rising jeans that had rips down the sides came out and shook his head. "You know I can't stand to be late, I'm first on tonight!"
"Ichigo, you go on at six. It is not yet five," the dark haired man said softly.
"Well, you shove your cock and balls into a thong and see how long it takes you to tuck and go!" he commented and went back behind the curtain.
"No thanks, I just make the costumes," he commented, rolling his eyes.
"Fuckin' give me more crotch room, then!" he yelled from behind.
"If I did that, you wouldn't be happy either, because then you'd fall out on stage, then where would you be?" he said with a sigh, then looked up to realize they had company.
"Grimm, what's up, who is this pretty boy?" Uryu asked with a grin.
"Uryu, this is our new bouncer, he's working front of the stage tonight. His name's John. This is Uryu, our costume designer. And you met our lovely queen, Ichigo."
"Not fuckin' gay!" came the response from behind the screen.
"Keep telling yourself that, Ichigo," Uryu called back.
"Fuck you, Uryu."
"I would like you to, but that means admitting that you are gay," he responded, his face never changing from the blank expression.
There was a snort from behind the curtain. Uryu shook his head and then groaned as a man with straight pink hair grabbed him from behind.
"Uryu, sweetheart, stop trying to get Ichigo in bed, I'll take you in a heartbeat!" whined said pink haired man.
"Szayel, new bounce, this is John, John, another of the drama queens, Szayel," Grimmjow said, smirking.
The pink haired man waved at him. "Hey, at least I own up to being a drama queen. I am the biggest queen around here! Uryu, you got my outfit for tonight? I love doing the slutty maid shtick," he said, eyes twinkling at the thought.
"Yeah, come back to the office," he said and waved good-bye to the bouncers.
A second later a man with long, wavy blonde hair wandered in in a pair of jeans and no shirt. "Dammit," he muttered.
"Rose, new bouncer, this is John."
Rose looked up and smiled. "Hey, I work the bar, but I dance too, and I've lost my shirt…" he muttered, and wandered away.
A moment later a short blonde woman came storming in. "Ichigo, where is your lazy ass?" she called.
Ichigo came out from behind the screen and glared at her, half dressed. He was wearing a cop outfit tonight, it seemed, and he was working on the shirt now. "What do you want Hiyori, I'm not lazy, I'm dressing, dammit!"
Hiyori shook her head. "Will wonders never cease," she said and looked to see Grimmjow.
"What's this, newbie?" she asked.
Grimmjow nodded. "John, new bouncer, this is Hiyori, she is the woman that runs this place back here with an iron fist. John's on the stage, so I was introducing him to the dancers. He's met Ichigo, Rose, and Szayel so far."
Eventually, he met the rest. Szayel's blond brother, Ilfort, another blonde haired man named Findorr, a short effeminate man named Luppi, a short man with blond hair named Tesla, and a dark haired man with feathered decorations in his hair named Yumichika. Many of them were Japanese, going with the Japanese theme of the place. Of course, there were those off that night he'd meet later.
John really got a look now as the lights were all on before the place opened at six. The walls were deep red and decorated extensively with pictures and posters of Japanese origin. There were couches in the same theme, and the cocktail waiters and waitresses wore kimonos. Granted, they were short, but the influence was still there. The stage was heavily draped with black and red curtains, and even the stripper pole was metallic black instead of silver. He finally headed over to the bar and watched Sherlock. It was odd, seeing him totally pull of the act. Every move confirmed he was nothing more than a gay bartender, his hand motions and tilt of his head and lilt of his voice. He saw John and came over.
"Oh for godssakes I forgot how touchy these people were," he commented in his "Sherlock" voice.
John crinkled his brow. "How are you going to handle that, you aren't keen on having people touch you casually," he said, knowing his friend all too well.
"Part of the act," he muttered, grinning as the pink haired stripper suddenly draped himself around Sherlock's back and frowned with a pout.
"Aw, are you taken, pretty?" he asked, giving Sherlock a lecherous grin.
"John's my flatmate," he said, smiling but John knew it was fake.
Szayel reached down and fiddled with the chain with the O ring. "Hrm, we may have to arrange something, you are quite the hottie," he said, and slapped Sherlock's ass as he walked away.
"Wonderful," he said with a groan and rolling his eyes at John.
John shook his head, amazed at Sherlock's ability to act. "Well, I've got to get in position; they've got me watching the stage. Perfect place to keep an eye on stalkers."
Grimmjow walked up then and handed him a walkie talkie. "Here ya go, man. Channel's open to all the crew, you need help, just let us know."
"You meet the target?" Sherlock asked, looking around.
John snorted. "Yeah, he's…quite the diva from what I can tell."
"But he claims not to be gay," Sherlock said, scanning the room and absorbing everything he could.
"Obviously in denial," John supplied. Sherlock looked at him with an arched brow.
"Is he now?" he asked.
"Of course, you'll see when you meet him, speaking of which," John said as the orange haired stripper came towards him.
"Hey!" he said, waving at him and jogging over. He was dressed in a police uniform with handcuffs and a baton on the waist, both plastic, and a hat sitting crookedly on his head.
"I saw you backstage, but I didn't get to say hi," he said, taking John's hand. "Ichigo, but they call me Strawberry Black on stage," he said rolling his eyes. "My name is a homonym for the Japanese word for Strawberry, so they figured it worked. And first part of my last name is the word for Black, so there ya go. Anyway, your name was John, and you're?" he said, looking at Sherlock.
Sherlock reached his hand out and smiled. "Sherl, working the bar. Worked for Shin a few years ago," he said, shaking Ichigo's hand.
"Ah, well, anyway, I'm first up tonight, so I'll see you guys later," he said, running back to the stage.
John looked at Sherlock for his deductions. Sherlock frowned. "Definitely not gay, in fact, I believe he's asexual, mostly because of a bad experience, but not interested in women at all, if he finds anyone attractive it will be a man. He's scared, quite badly, though, so I think this stalker is getting to him, he just doesn't want to admit it. He enjoys working here, definitely what you would consider the diva of a show, loves to be the center of attention. He's not quite what you'd call an effeminate, and has a black belt of some sort, haven't decided in what. He's lonely, and apparently his family doesn't approve of his job…" Sherlock said finally.
John blinked. "Not even going to ask how you got all that, I'm not surprised though."
Sherlock smiled as Shinji came up. "We're opening in ten, Ichi-berry goes on first, John, so keep an eye on the audience, see if anyone sticks out. If they do, get a description and have Grimm run a check on them immediately. Sherl, honey, keep your ears open at the bar. And remember, Grimm and I are the only two that know why you're here, so let's keep it that way."
Sherlock nodded and headed back to the bar while John headed to the position he would take by the stage. In moments, the door was opened, and people began pouring in, some heading for the bar immediately, others to the tables where the cocktail waiters and waitresses took their orders. A few went to mill in the dance area. It seemed that the strippers danced and between shows, the rest of the club ran like a dance club. Then, the music would change to the stripper's, and people either could watch the show, or continue their dancing in the other area. This meant that there was a wide variety of people in the club, both straight and not.
John sighed, looking around as the area around the stage filled in fast, the strong techno beat in the background already giving him a headache. He hoped they played real music for the strippers…