Roman really wasn't up to fighting or running or anything. He was frozen on the spot. The back door to the club locked automatically to make sure the talent was safe. The irony of it at that moment as the auburn haired stranger slowly made his way down the alley. It was narrow, too narrow to run past him and Roman was exhausted from performing and terrified by what this stranger with wild eyes was capable of.
"P-Please, man, just…" He finally found his voice, still stuck as if those blues had glued him to that very spot. The man's head twitched to the side at Roman's voice as he hovered in closer, the light at the back door decided that would be a perfect moment for flicker on.
If Roman wasn't terrified of this man cutting or stabbing him, he'd find him absolutely gorgeous. Eyes, while terrifying, were a brilliant blue up close, scraggly beard was pretty cute, too. He was a tad disheveled.
He had plenty of opportunity to lunge at Roman and maybe, just maybe if Roman could distract him he could get away.
That thought quickly flickered away as the man drew the blade up, the dim back door light reflecting off of it easily. It was longer than Roman anticipated.
"L-Look, what do you want, huh?" Roman asked, heart sped to rates he didn't think possible as the man gently tilted the blade in his hand and stared at for a moment, as if fascinated by its literal existence. "You want money? Huh? I can fucking give you money, just back off!" He fumbled with his duffle, voice grew louder and that seemed to cause the stranger to jump, but he continued to advance nonetheless.
"Dun't want your money…" A smoky, intimidating rasp filtered out.
Roman was backed up against a wall then, the stranger lifting the knife up to the side of his face. God, why couldn't he just move? Why were his legs like complete jelly? His heart pitter-pattered as the knife was mere inches from his face, slowly moved into the field of his vision until the stranger had an expression of confusion.
"'s not the right knife…" He clipped it shut quickly then, and with a swift movement began rummaging through his jacket pockets, retrieving another one and snapping it open. This one was different from the first, the blade rainbow in color and extra shiny. The stalker stared owlishly at it for a moment, before moving it closer to Roman's face. "…yer so pretty, Clementine…I-I…got this pretty blade and named it after ya."
Jesus Christ.
"'S not as pretty as you at all, but…I-I always was lookin' at it before…" He babbled on, Roman's heart was still in his throat. This man was smiling, going on and on as if he wasn't in a dark alleyway holding a knife to someone's face.
"What do you want?" Roman finally choked out, wetness formed in his dark eyes. "P-Please, I just…wanna go home, just please don't hurt me."
"No, no, no, no!" The man said quickly, laying a finger over Roman's lips, suddenly looking distraught himself. His hands spanned across Roman's head, the drag queen shivered a tad. "Please don't be sad, Clementine…I-I jus' wanted ta…t-to show you…o-oh you're so pretty, I thought you'd like to see a-another pretty thing. 'm s-sorry, so sorry…I-I always w-watch you…e-every night you perform…'s amazing…"
It registered to Roman that maybe this man was…a bit off. But he hadn't attacked him yet. In fact he seemed quite apologetic. He still had his defenses up high, but decided to engage the threatening and handsome, odd man. "You liked my performance tonight?"
"Y-Yeah…very beautiful voice, Clementine, a-and you always look s-so extra pretty in purple…" The stranger flushed. Even in the dim light, Roman could see dimples with that shy smile.
"H-How about we get out of this alleyway, hmm? C-Can I take you for a cup of coffee?" Roman bit his tongue right after because what the fuck. Why did he just say that to this literal stranger who not a moment ago had a knife mere centimeters from his face. Roman almost recanted, but couldn't as soon as he saw the name's face instantly lit up and he grinned. Wow…those dimples were breathtaking.
"R-Really? You'd…like ta sit wit' me? O-Oh, I'd be honored." He backed away slowly, smile never leaving his face.
"There's a coffee shop across the street, why don't we go there, hmm?" Roman let out a small, shaky sigh then. He could maybe bolt for his car and the stranger had put the knives away.
But…part of him was drawn to the strange, scruffy male. Perhaps he was just lonely, but when those blue eyes stared at him like he hung the stars in the sky, how could he possibly say no?
"'m Dean, by the way…." He brushed a nervous hand over his hair, looking rather shy and far less intimidating than before. Roman could work with that.
They really did have a nice time over a cup of coffee, sipping idly at it here and there with a nice conversation. Dean was a flustered mess, constantly apologizing and didn't seem to be capable of calling Roman by his real name, despite that he was very aware of the fact that Clementine was just a stage name.
He spoke about how he was a mechanic that he had seen a flyer for the club months ago and had gone just on a whim and fell in love with Roman's performance. "Momma always said boy's aren't really supposed to like or do pretty things…b-but you make it all seem so nice…'ve always liked nice things. And yer probably the nicest I've seen."
Roman smiled sweetly at that, brushing some hair out of his face. "You sure do know how to sweet talk someone, don't you?" He hadn't noticed he had remnants of makeup on still until a group that vaguely resembles wannabe truckers comes in, instantly targeting him.
"Lookit this here fag…shouldn't you be working the pole across the street, huh?" One of the hicks makes his way over to the table he and Dean are at and Roman rolled his eyes.
"Ah, I just finished my shift, actually." Roman chuckled, glaring at the man. "How do you know we have stripper poles in there, by the way? Unless you've visited yourself."
"Now you shut your goddamn faggot mouth 'fore I…"
"No, you shut it!" Dean shot up from the bench he was at instantly, pinning the man against the front door, the laughs and jeers instantly falling. "Keep ya goddamn scummy hands and face away from Clemmy or I'll be knockin' your teeth down yer throat and out ya ass." The man was pinned viciously, feet not even touching the ground as he was lifted high up by his collar, before Dean let him drop and fall. "C'mon, let's go…dun't need ta be around this trash."
Dean grabbed his hand instantly, taking Roman out of the booth and in that moment, he was smitten. This man, although not quite all there, was a goddamn sweetheart. Kind, sensitive, polite, and handsome to boot. Even if he was a tad strange…
Which is probably why they ended up in the backseat of Roman's shitty car, Dean's tongue down his throat as they kissed heavily. He petted at Roman's sides reverently, cooing and pleading. "So pretty…t-thank ya fer lettin' me touch you…"
"Only because you do it so well." Roman chuckled, a moan following closely as Dean groped at his ass. "Damn, baby…"
"Sorry…jus' feel so nice…"
"Don't be sorry…" Roman locked lips with him again, before trailing kisses down the man's neck, sucking a mark here or there. "…fuck, I wanna touch you…is that okay?"
His auburn locks shifted dramatically as he nodded, eager and wanting, biting on his bottom lip as Roman unzipped his jeans. God, he was already hard, fat and thick and Roman started stroking him with ease. "O-Oh, Clementine…f-feels so nice…"
"Yeah?" Roman chuckled, continuing to lick and suck at the man's neck and hairy chest, getting him more and more debauched. "Got a nice dick you're working with here, love…" He pulled out his throaty, overly sexual tone he often did when singing. "…talk so much about me being pretty, oh, but aren't you a gorgeous one…" He played with the head of Dean's dick, twisting and rubbing as the sweet man cried out.
"Y-Yeah?"
"Yeah, really pretty…could put you in a pretty green dress, maybe some eyeshadow? They'd be screaming and hollering for you at that club." That seemed to be enough for the strange man, Dean spilling over Roman's fist hot and wet, before they claimed one another's lips in a filthy, wet kiss. "There you go, came so good for me…o-oh, Dean, what're you…?"
Despite the limited car space, Dean had slipped down between Roman's knees, tugging his sweatpants down and rubbing at Roman's cockhead, staring up with lustful blue eyes, cock hanging sexy and dripping from his unzipped jeans and pulled down boxers. "Gotta take care of ya, my darlin' Clementine."
