Author's Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile.
"Alright, now this is what I'm talking about!" Dean cheers as he steps out of the party bus and onto the street, his arms wide open as he looks up excitedly at the neon sign flashing the words 'The South Pole'. "Ha-ha!" He claps his hands and rubs his palms together with a huge smile on his face.
Turning around, he watches his little brother Sam step out of the bus as he looks over the building with slight dislike. "Dude, seriously?"
"Yes!" Dean answers, grabbing his taller brother's shoulders and shaking a little. "It's your twenty-first birthday, Sammy! Loosen up and have some fun!"
"You should probably listen to him, man," Sam's friend Ash tells him, pounding down the rest of his PBR can before crushing it in his hand. "He'll force you into having fun anyways. Easier to just go with it and enjoy the beautiful women willing to take their clothes off for our money."
"They are just trying to earn a living after all," Brady pipes in as he pats Sam on the shoulder as he disembarks from the bus with loud, thumping music and strobe lights flashing. "Think of it this way; you could be supporting the future doctors of America just looking to pay off some loans."
"I'm sure that's the case for most of them," Sam bitches right back before turning back to his older brother. "Look, this is way more your scene than mine, Dean…"
"You turn twenty-one once…" Dean starts to excuse but Sam keeps going.
"And I'm sure Jess would love to know where I went on my birthday," Sam points out.
"Sam!" Dean scolds loudly and looks at Sam like he's insane as the rest of their group, about twelve deep, joins them on the sidewalk. "You just met the girl! Two dates! Calm the fuck down and live a little!"
"And this has nothing at all to do with Lisa leaving you last week?" Sam challenges.
Dean shoots him one pissed off look. "No. It has nothing to do with Lisa."
"You sure?"
"Sam! I cheated on her! I deserved to get my ass dumped!" Dean reminds him. "I'm not a relationship kinda guy. I know that. I'm a strip club kinda guy. My best dates end when I've run outta singles." With a grin he pulls a stack of dollar bills out of his back pocket. "And I've got longevity tonight. Suck it up and let your girly-ass hair down, Sammy. It's time to get drunk and ogle naked women!"
Dean shouts out this last part and raises his fist in the air, making the entire pack of young men cheer. He set this whole thing up, having an itch to get out and do some damage in town. Yes, the break up with Lisa sucked but, like he said, he deserved it. He shouldn't have messed around with her sister, he knows that, so fuck it. He wasn't in love anyways. Dean's happy without that mess in his life.
Sam sighs and makes a face.
"China just heard that eye roll, you little bitch," Dean says to Sam and shoves him at the front door of the club. "You loosen up and I promise you'll have fun."
"Fine," Sam gives in as he knows it's easier not to fight his brother. It's always far too exhausting going up against that force of stubborn nature.
With an arm around Sam's shoulder, the move awkward with the height difference but Dean doesn't care as he's already half in the bag, they enter the building. From the outside it's seen better days, the brick structure aged and clearly an old warehouse. Inside the place is jumping with movement and excitement. All different color lights illuminate the large open room. Red curtained walls line the place and one main stage is at the center, the flooring smooth and reflective as ice, with a smaller catwalk to each side.
"Welcome, gentlemen!" the skimpily clad hostess immediately greets when she sees the group. Her eyes light up as she no doubt can see dollar signs across her vision with the herd of young men.
"Ah, hello!" Dean shouts right back. "This here is my little brother Sam." Dean pats Sam hard in the chest twice. "And it's his birthday. Treat him right."
"Well, hello Sam," the girl says to him and grabs his hand. "Why don't I set you and your friends up in a nice cozy spot, hm?"
"I love this lady already!" Garth laughs out, the man quite drunk as he leans against Ash for stability.
The pack follows the hostess to a section off to the side of the main stage right in front of one of the smaller catwalks. They take their seats in the gold upholstered chairs.
"So what can I get for all you fine gentlemen tonight?" the hostess asks as she stands behind Sam, her hands starting at his shoulders and drifting downward until her breasts are resting on the top of his head.
"A lap dance for the birthday boy from the hottest chick you got," Dean answers quickly. "And a round of whiskey shots and beers."
"I'll have a server get you those drinks," the woman tells them, her chest still on Sam. "And when you decide which girl you want just let your server know, sweetie." She winks at Dean before shaking her breasts while still on Sam. The group hollers and she walks away laughing.
"I don't want a lap dance, Dean," Sam warns him.
"Tough titties," Dean comments, not backing down from the promised dance.
Sam shakes his head but Dean ignores it, focusing instead on the girls dancing in the room. As one makes her way down the catwalk in front of them dressed in a police costume he smile so wide it hurts.
"This might be the first time in my life that I've ever respected authority," he comments and reaches for his stack of ones.
Sam's wasted. He's drunk as a God damn skunk and Dean couldn't be more proud.
"How you feeling about this place now, Sammy?" Dean wonders as he looks over at his little brother, grinning like a child.
"It's… awesome," Sam slowly responds as he looks over the topless stripper in his lap, her bra-top now strapped around his head like a party hat as is customary at The South Pole when it's someone birthday.
"Good man," Dean tips his beer bottle at him and takes a sip. Sam's usually wound so tightly that it's great to see him so open and relaxed for once. Sure, his hangover will probably kill him tomorrow but fuck it. He'll survive.
"Hey man," Dean hears Ash call to him and when he looks he sees the guy struggling to keep Garth on his very drunken feet. "I'm gonna head to the bus and let Garthie here sleep it off."
"Sounds like a plan," Dean laughs a little.
"Thiss parrty was… sweeeeet," Garth struggles out, his eyes lulling everywhere.
"Have a good time, Sleeping Beauty," he says right back as Ash nearly drags the shit-faced man out the door.
Dean looks around the club, sighing with contentment. The party is clearly a success and he can feel the pride wash over him.
However, he never found his girl. Usually when at a strip club Dean finds his one, the hottest chick in there to his standards, and hones in. He's already lost half his cash on hand, never got that lap dance for Sam, and never got one for himself either. The girls are hot, don't get him wrong. He doesn't go to clubs with C or even B rate chicks. But tonight he's just… unfulfilled.
Use my body to keep you alive.
Dean nods his head and smiles when he recognizes the song instantly, the guitar riff being very familiar. He used to listen to Rob Zombie all the time as a rebellious kid.
"Haven't heard this song in forever," he says to no one in particular as he turns in his chair to check out the main stage and the stripper that chose this particular song.
His face drops instantly when he gets one look at her. Maybe his prayers are being answered after all.
Her body, slim and perfectly curvy with large, absolutely fake breasts and an ample ass, moves smoothly with sultry heat in just the right way to the hard hitting rock song. The skintight black pleather mini-dress shines in the flashing lights of the club, her toned arms accentuated by the black long sleeves and her bare, so long legs make his mouth water, the short stiletto booties making them look even longer. She bends over, the hem of her dress riding up and revealing a little more of the tattoo she has on her upper, outer thigh and she drags her hands back up her legs slowly. Her thick dark cat-eyeliner makes her big brown eyes smolder, her pale face framed by dark, long, wavy hair. When her red lips stretch into a smile Dean's jeans instantly get tighter.
"Fuck… me," Dean drawls out and stands up from his seat, walking right over to the main stage as if he's a moth headed for the warm glow of flame. He drops down into a seat at the edge of the stage and looks up in sheer awe, dumbstruck by her.
"I think your brother's in love," laughs Brady and looks over to Sam.
"Yeah…" Sam answers absently, not at all paying attention to anything besides the hot stripper in his lap flirting shamelessly with him.
Leaning back against the gold pole in the middle of the stage the dancer looks around at the men sitting in front of her. She sees the one off to the left of her, his eyes glued to her and his face slack with want. Bingo. She found her meal ticket for the night. There's always one.
Locking eyes with the guy, an easy task with how fucking hot he is, she slowly lowers the zipper running down the front of her mini-dress, the tight fabric opening right up as she goes. The guy licks his bottom lip once and she's got him completely hooked. Time to reel him in.
As she peels the black dress off of her body, Dean groans to himself as he sits there. Once it's gone she's left in a bright red bra top and tight red hot shorts, her ass cheeks curving out from the bottom.
With impressive skill the dancer directs her focus on the pole in the center of the stage.
A face of complete desire plastered on, Dean watches her closely as her body contorts while she works the pole, upside down one moment, legs in the air the next, and then climbing back up with ease. She moves with alluring confidence and sexy grace, but it's her details he finds intriguing. The woman is covered in tattoos he can now see since the dress is gone. Her right side is a mural of designs, both her arms covered in full ink sleeves, her right upper thigh is a cascading bouquet of flowers and she has a quite unique red flower on the left side of her neck.
While suspended upside down, her legs wrapped tightly around the pole to keep her in place, the dancer pops open her top and lets it fall down to the stage below her. The room of mostly men hoot for her and she slides slowly downward until she's lying on the shiny stage, her back arched as she eyes Dean over from the floor. She slides her hands down her body, making sure to squeeze her own breasts once while staring the hot customer over before rolling onto her stomach.
She's clearly targeted him and Dean knows it. Sometimes he gets lucky. And when she starts crawling, her body swaying to the music as she does, he knows today is his lucky day. She's headed right for him, beautifully round ass in the air.
His hand in his pocket, Dean pulls a twenty from his stack of cash, knowing he needs to get her attention the best way he knows how. Big money.
She lays down onto her stomach when she reaches him, her feet swinging in the air behind her and her breasts pressed together as she props herself up on her elbows. She eyes the large bill in his hand.
"Big spender." She smiles at him, knowing he's all hers.
"Anything to get a beautiful woman's attention," Dean slickly answers back.
Peering at him for a second, not taking the offered money just yet, the she rolls over onto her back. With her heels on the stage floor she presses her hips up high, her upper back the only part of her touching the ground. She lowers her red shorts to reveal a tiny black thong. She threads her legs through the shorts before rolling back over to face him.
"You are sex incarnate," Dean nearly growls as he looks over the round mounds of her ass that's now full exposed.
"And you're cute," she says with a smirk. She reaches her hand over the edge of the stage and drops the shorts in her hand onto the bar top that lines the stage directly in front of Dean. "I'm gonna want those back. I'll come find you for them later."
She then turns around and sits at the very edge of the stage. She turns her head to look at him.
"Tip me."
"Gladly," Dean answers and tucks the twenty onto the string of her thong. The dancer smiles wide at him and moves on, making her way around the stage to the other men willing to lavish attention and money on her. Dean never once moves, aside from dropping more money on the stage for her exceptionally intense and hot as hell performance, and his eyes are glued to her the entire time until she collects her money on the stage and leaves, winking at him once before she disappears behind the curtains.
Dean sighs with a stupid look plastered on his face. She's amazing. So fucking amazing.
In a daze of sex and desire, Dean gets up and makes his way back to the group of men. He plops down into his seat and looks around at the men, friends of both his and his brother's.
"She looked nice," Ash patronizes from his own seat, now back from putting Garth down for a while.
Dean smirks at him knowingly and pulls the red hot shorts in his hand onto his head like a hat, the red fabric covering one of his eyes.
The group laughs a bit.
"Souvenir?" Brady asks with delight.
"She's coming back for 'em," Dean points to the stripper-wear on his dome. "And I can't fucking wait."
After waiting for far too long (and it could easily have only be ten minutes tops with how anxious Dean is at this point) he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns quickly and looks at the person behind him.
"Nice hat," the gorgeous stripper comments with her hands on her hips as she looks at her red shorts on Dean's head. She's left in her tiny black thong and red bra top only.
"I thought so," Dean grins up to her.
She laughs and looks over the group in front of her. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? Boy's night out?"
"It's my brother's birthday," Dean answers and points to Sam. With a dopey, drunken face Sam eyes the new stripper in his lap, grinding on him.
"I can see he's very well taken care of," she laughs, seeing the man clearly enjoying his time with Jenny, or Arora as she goes by. "What about the rest of you? You looking for anything I can help with?"
The group looks at her with wide eyes.
"Sweetheart, there is plenty you could do for us," Dean tells her with certainty.
She grins at him, liking his overconfident style right away. And now that she has a chance to really see him she's impressed. He's hot, and not in the traditional way either. He's actually quite beautiful yet severely many. It's an odd mix.
"I'm sure I could, big boy," she returns with and lowers herself sideways into his lap. She takes her shorts off of his head and snakes her heels through them, pulling them up her long legs.
"Wait, wait, wait," Dean complains instantly. "I came here to see stripping, not clothes being put on."
"Well how can I take off clothes if I don't have any on to start with?" she points out to him.
"Good point," Dean grins like a kid at her, watching closely as her shorts slide up her skin.
"How would you guys like it if I spent some time over here for a bit?" she asks the group of several men, seeing each one as a beautiful opportunity to line that wallet of hers. "Gave you a good show?"
"We wouldn't mind it at all," Dean assures her.
The next hour went by far too quickly for Dean. The stripper, Lita as he found she goes by, stayed with their group exclusively just as she promised. She took her time visiting each guy, spreading her attention around as equally as she could but she always made sure to glance at Dean and keep that connection there. Every time she looked his eyes had already been on her. That's a very good sign.
Another pole dance for the men in this little corner of the club, all of them having been generous tippers for the attention she paid, and once more she takes a seat in Dean's lap, having found his to be the most comfortable in the group. He seems to be the most on par with her personality anyways. He loves drinking, sex, and letting go of all reservations in order to have a good time. That's her kind of guy.
"You're awesome," Dean tells her and hands her another shot of whiskey. She takes it, sporting a pretty decent buzz from the very giving men around her buying far too many drinks, and prepares to get flat out drunk. She never does that, gets drunk on the job, but she's comfortable with them and with Dean specifically so why the hell not? If they're going to spend money in her club then fuck it, she's contributing by keeping them going.
"You're not too bad yourself, Dean," she smiles and takes down the shot with him. The haze settles over her, the tipsy state just too damn fun. She loves drinking.
Lita takes the glasses out of their hands and places them on the small table in the middle of the group. She then moves to straddle him and places her hands on either side of his neck. Leaning into him, her red lips up to his ear and her body pressed against his, she asks in a husky voice, "You wanna take this somewhere more private?"
Dean swallows hard before sighing.
"I want to show you what I can do," she says to him with confidence. "And you seem like you can afford me."
Closing his eyes as he feels her tongue outline his ear, he answers quickly. "Let's go."
She grins wide at him as she climbs off his lap. Grabbing his hand she pulls him up and leads him to a back room, ruffling Sam's hair as she passes. "Happy birthday, Sammy," she jokes to the now passed out man. It's rare that she sees a man blackout like that in her club but she's getting the feeling this wasn't the norm for him.
Pulling aside a red curtain she brings Dean into a sectioned off area. A large bouncer is seated on a stool by the doorway and he looks up when they enter.
"Hey, Cliff," Lita says and runs her hand over his shoulder. "I'm using the back room. This guy's fine so leave us alone."
"Whatever you say, Lita," he brushes it off, knowing it's best he leave her to her thing. He's learned that Lita can bring in some serious cash if he leaves her to her own devices in the back rooms. And he knows he'll get his cut for leaving her be and shutting his mouth if she's successful. It's a good racket they have going.
"And tell Derek to put on some good music for me. Tell him make it dirty."
Cliff laughs to himself as the walk away. He pulls out his phone to text the DJ.
"Sit down," Lita says to him as she closes the curtain in the small room. Dean listens obediently, having become an absolute puppy dog for her throughout the night. He'd do whatever she says at this point. He can't keep his eyes off of her.
Once settled into the plush, upholstered chair he watches her as she stands in front of him.
"I've been wanting to get you in here all night," Lita tells him, dropping her red hot shorts to the floor quickly.
"Because I have deep pockets?" Dean jests, sights hard on her hands as they unhook and drop her red bra top to the floor, once more giving him the perfect and up close view of her large breasts. His hands claw into the arms of the chair with need to reach out and touch her.
"Honestly, yes," Lita doesn't lie at all as she once more kneels into his lap, a knee to each side of his legs as she runs her hands down the side of his face and neck. "But you're also hot so… it's a little selfish of me in that way too." Lita licks her lips. "What do you want, Dean?"
His voice fails him completely with the question.
"You don't know?" she questions, her hands traveling slowly down his chest as she waits.
"Oh I know," he rediscovers his ability to talk. "I just don't know what you're willing to do."
Lita laughs at this one, her brain churning. "How about this; I'll do all I'm will to do if you've got the means to cover it."
"And what will cover it?"
She evaluates him, her hand landing on the center of his pants. Decent size. Her heart skips a beat.
"Call it an even hundred and I have my way with you," she deals. "I don't do sex at work and I won't be blowing you but trust me, you'll get off and I'll leave you smiling for days."
Slightly disappointed yet slightly excited at the very same time, Dean happily says, "Deal."
"Good boy," Lita answers back, her thumb swiping across his bottom lip when she really looks at how perfect his mouth is. And his lashes are so long, feminine even. And that deep, beautiful green of his eyes…. "You're really pretty."
"Thanks… I think…" Dean says uncomfortably, not having been prepared for such a comment.
"No! It's a compliment," Lita tries to explain. "Trust me. To me pretty is very good. I love the way you look. You're rare."
"Trying to cover up your mistake?" Dean patronizes a bit as he's found she can be sarcastic and rough around the edges… but he likes that. And she can take it as much as she can dish it.
"No," Lita tells him, taking his hands and placing them on her hips. "Just explaining myself."
"Alright then," Dean forgives her as his hands grab hard onto her round hips, having wanted to feel her all night but he's remembered his strip club decorum. No touching the strippers unless given the green light.
Lita bites her red-painted bottom lip and runs her thumb across his again. "Normally I don't kiss clients at work but… I'm intrigued." She stares at his mouth. "Can I?"
Dean doesn't verbally answer this question. Instead he brings a hand to the side of her face and pulls her in. This has to be bad idea number one in the book of man code. Don't make out with strippers. This can't be smart but luckily Dean's based his life on not-a-good-idea for the most part so what's one more stupid and reckless decision?
Kissing her cautiously as he does the first time he's ever with a woman he's unfamiliar with, he quickly finds that caution is not how Lita plays her game.
She takes full control of the kiss right away, her lips dominating his as she attacks. He just looked like too much fun to make out with to not give him a solid push. Biting down on Dean's bottom lip as a test, she waits to see his reaction.
He groans deep in his throat and he pushes his hips upwards once with the feeling. Bingo.
"You like it a little rough, Dean?" Lita confidently asks, punctuating the sentence by licking his open-with-awe mouth.
"I like whatever you've got," Dean answers back as he tries to keep his brain in a working place. She's threatening to break it with her intensity already.
Kissing him once more, nearly devouring his mouth as she feels something deep within her stirring, Lita finds herself truly enjoying her job tonight. She usually finds it fun as hell when on the stage but the real money maker is the private dances and those can be quite awful sometimes. Creepy and ugly men just love to come to strip clubs when they have some cash saved up. But Dean is neither creepy nor ugly. He's fucking hot, no two ways about it. And even with him being so hot she never assumed when she brought this guy back behind the curtains that she'd be getting this turned on by simply kissing. Bonus for her.
After some time she realizes how far too wrapped up in his mouth she is when she thinks of the time he's paying well for that she's wasting on him with just kissing. Separating their mouths with a smile so she can move on, she gives him an excited look as she brings her legs down between his knees. She slides down his body slowly, keeping pressured contact with him the whole time, until she's kneeling on the floor. Reaching for his belt she quickly gets the buckle open. She's already decided that this will be no quick thing with simply unzipped pants and a dick pulled free. She wants to see him. The pants are coming off tonight.
A few deep breaths once he finishes and Dean opens his eyes to the sound of the sexiest little giggle he's ever heard.
"You got me good," she says with a bright smile.
Dean looks her over and realizes her stomach and right breast are painted with white.
Lita then laughs hardily as she holds up her right hand, it looking not much different.
"I guess I really used my money well then," Dean says once his heart starts to slow, laughing a little himself.
"And I guess it was worth my staying late tonight," she returns with, not getting off of him as she reaches to the floor for her red hot shorts.
"You're shift's over?" Dean questions her.
"It was at midnight," she answers, using the shorts to clean herself up.
"And you stayed?" he asks her with surprise and gets a look of disbelief in return.
"You and your friends just paid off my share of next month's rent. Of course I stayed," she laughs a little and sits still once she's clean. "And I'd say it was totally worth it."
They share a moment, just looking at one another as they both feel a certain connection now. Lust is a hell of a thing, making them take their physical need further than either expected.
"Since I probably emptied your bank account tonight… can I buy you a drink?" Lita asks, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Dean gives her a shocked expression. "No stripper has ever offered to buy me a drink."
"Probably because you call them strippers," Lita jokes and pats his cheek a couples times as she stands up. "We're dancers."
The grin she gives him makes him nod. She's funny. She's sarcastic. She's hot as all fucking hell. Oh, no.
"I'm gonna go change into my normal, non-stripper clothes," Lita tells him as she pulls her thong on. "I can meet you back with your crew."
"Ok," Dean answers, his voice nervous now as he watches her move. She puts on her red top and grabs her shorts, every movement graceful and somehow beautiful.
"And I'll be expecting my payment then," she winks at him and tosses him his jeans and boxer-briefs before leaving the room.
Dean sits back and sighs, feeling something shift inside his chest before getting redressed.