Bree's Journey Pt. 02

"Ah! You've hit on a touchy subject. My folks want me to go to grad school. I've been accepted at Rutgers."

"Where is that?"

"New Jersey."

"Oh, wow! That's really far away. Don't they have a program here?"

"They do. My folks think Rutgers is a more prestigious name to have on my resume."

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to go to grad school. I'm kind of burned out on school right now. I want to get a real job, have a real car payment, and pay real rent."

He was mocking what I'd said the night before.

"I'm just teasing you. I do want those things, though. As fun as all this looks to you, it just gets old."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, exactly. Last summer, I interned at an agricultural company. I liked that, okay. Near the end, I started learning some of their software and kind of dabbled in programming. I really liked doing that."

"Dallas has a great job market for that field. You'd have no problem finding a job."

"The thing is, I've only taken the introductory computer programming class, I'd need to get some kind of training."

"You're a smart guy, I'm sure you'll figure it out. There are tons of IT training centers around Dallas. I'm friends with a guy in our IT department. He's going to classes all the time."

"You trying to get me to move to Dallas?"

My cheeks flushed. "No! I was just...giving examples. I'm sure they have the same thing in Austin, or Oklahoma City."

Kieran elbowed me and grinned. "I'm just teasing you. You're right, Dallas does have a lot of IT vocational schools. I've already checked them out."

I was relieved that he didn't think I was trying to start anything with him. I really was just pointing out what I knew, not suggesting that he take it literally.

"I remember you telling me that you were a project manager. Do you like that?"

I shrugged. "Not particularly. I sort of fell into the role the last time the company reorganized. I started as an intern doing copyediting. My thought was to get my foot in the door so I could move up to copywriting, maybe become a full-time staff writer. But with all the layoffs, they've cut back on their in-house writers, using freelancers, instead. I got slotted in a project manager role. It's not what I want to do, but at least I still get a paycheck."

"You survived the layoff."

"Yeah, well, so far, anyway. Rumor has it we're about to go through more layoffs this month. My workload has suddenly dropped off, so I'm a little worried I'm not going to survive this round."

"What will you do if that happens?"

"I don't know. I've sort of been in denial about it, I guess. I don't have much debt, though, and I'm renting a house for dirt cheap. I'll do what I have to. If that means waiting tables, then so be it. I'm not really a work snob."

Kieran took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. He appeared to want to say something, but then changed his mind.

"What?" He shook his head. "What were you going to say? Tell me."

"I, uh...well, just that I know what you mean about doing whatever it takes to make money."

"How do you know? How could someone as wealthy as you, know what I mean?"

"My parents both make a good living. And yeah, they pay for my education, and room and board. But when it comes to all the extra living expenses, I have to foot the bill for those."

"How do you do that?"

Kieran shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable with telling me. "I work at a nightclub."

I waited for him to continue. I knew there was more to it than that. Lots of college kids tend bar and wait tables.

"I'm a dancer."

"A stripper?"

"Yeah."

"No shit?"

Kieran shook his head and dropped it forward in mock shame.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. I bet it's good money. Women love to throw money at half-naked men. Shit, I bet you get tons of dates."

I checked his expression. It looked like he'd been injured by what I'd said. I didn't think I said anything offensive. I was trying to be supportive so he wouldn't be all embarrassed about something so trivial.

"What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's a normal assumption. My clientele isn't usually women. I work in a gay club."

My lips formed an "o" as I processed what he was saying.

I suddenly remembered that I'd asked him how he met Daniel and Bryan. He told me that he'd met them at a club. He'd probably been working, and they came in for the show.

"Oh, wow. I get the connection now; how you know my brother and all. So, you're...?"

"I'm bi."

"So, you like both men and women?" Kieran nodded. "How does that work, exactly?"

Kieran chuckled. "Not very well. I'm single most of the time."

"I'd think just the opposite would be true. I mean, you've doubled the available dating pool by opening up your choices."

"It's a matter of preference. I would prefer a relationship with a woman. It just doesn't seem to work out for me. I mean, once they find out how I am, and what I do, they usually don't want anything to do with me."

"That's so judgmental. I don't care that you're a stripper in a gay club. Or that you're bi-sexual."

"Yeah, but, we're not dating. Imagine if we'd been dating for a while, maybe had sex, and then I sprung this on you."

"Hm. Yeah, that might be a little different. But only because, as a group, we women are so insecure. I'd be wondering how I stacked up in bed against a guy. It opens up a whole world of insecurities. You know what I mean?"

"I do. I've heard it all. Firsthand."

The pieces of Kieran were starting to fit together. It all made sense...why my brother didn't want me to get involved with him, why Kieran was so standoffish at first. It also explained that rockin' body of his.

I was seeing him in a whole new light. Where I thought he was meticulous, he was actually just reserved around women. And for a good reason. I'm sure he's been burned many times.

It felt like a huge, heavy cloak was lifted from on top of us. I didn't know everything about Kieran, but with this new information, I felt like I at least understood more about what made him tick. And I liked it.

"Do your parents know?"

Kieran shook his head. "They think I tend bar. That's what I told them. It nearly backfired on me last year when one of their friends asked me to make them an 'Old Fashioned'. I had no idea what the hell that was."

"What did you do?"

"I told them that I worked in a college town. I knew how to pour beer and wine, and garnish a margarita, and that was about it."

"Smooth."

"My parents taught me how to think on my feet like that. I'm sure they never intended for me to use it to lie to them."

"Do you feel bad, lying about what you do to your parents?"

Kieran shrugged. "Kind of, yeah. I mean, they don't deserve that from me. On the other hand, I look at it as sort of a white lie. Harmless. I'm saving them the shock and aggravation."

"I guess that means they don't know you're bi, either."

"No. Hell, no. They'd freak. They're ultra conservative about shit like that. I even try to bring home a girl every once in awhile, just to keep up the appearance of being heterosexual."

"Well, if you ever need a stand-in, let me know. I'd act the part with no strings attached."

"Thanks."

Kieran glanced at his phone and I realized that we'd probably been sitting there for longer than it felt. Time just seemed to fly-by talking to him. "Do you need to get going?"

"Yeah."

His voice sounded disappointed, but I wasn't going to ask him to skip class for me. It would be too presumptuous and risky. "Can you point me in the direction of Daniel's class?"

"I'll do one better. I'll take you to his room. My class is in the same building."

"Great."

Kieran helped me off the ground and we both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. It felt wrong to just start walking after the personal conversation we'd just had, so I reached around his waist and gave him a hug.

He hesitated for a moment before reciprocating. Then we released our tight grip. Kieran turned me toward where we were going to walk, and then led me by the hand through the groupings of bodies sunning themselves beneath a cloudless afternoon sky.

We parted ways a little after 2pm. He said that the instructor never started on time, anyway. I wondered if that wasn't a white lie just so he didn't look like he was stalling to spend more time with me. I'd probably never know.

I found a grouping of furniture at the end of the hall and settled into one of the chairs. It was time for me to reach out to Miles. I couldn't call him, but I could text him. The message was simple: I arrived okay. I need some time. I'll call soon.

I wondered if that last sentence was true. It would've suited me just fine to never face him again. What a coward I'd become.

I pocketed my phone and let my mind shift focus back to more interesting topics. Ones that didn't make me feel bad about myself. Kieran.

What an intriguing person he'd turned out to be. I didn't think much of him when we first met. He was gorgeous, of course, but in every other way, came across as totally bland. I thought he was one of those guys that was all book smart with no street sense. Spent his entire life in a structured bubble, studying for classes, maintaining strict schedules. Maybe he'd grown up that way, but he was far from that lifestyle now.

He was an individual. A tortured one, it seemed. Not poised and perfect, the way he appeared on the outside. That was his mask. His armor. It guarded a very vulnerable person. One who'd been hurt a lot. Maybe even more than me, although it had been so many years since I'd let anyone get close enough to hurt me. Miles had gotten closer than most.

For me, it was one person. My high school sweetheart. He'd hurt me so deeply, I thought I might never recover. Maybe I still haven't.

I wondered if there was one person in Kieran's past that shaped the way he handled all relationships after that. Or was it just a culmination of tiny disappointments, one after the other, slowly crushing his dreams of finding the right one? I hated to think of him hurt like that.

The door to Daniel's classroom opened up and students began filing out. It was a bit earlier than I expected. I scrambled up from the chair and watched for him. There were no other classes going on in this particular hall, so it was going to be pretty easy to spot him.

He glanced both directions when he emerged, spotting me right away. We chatted about his class on the way to his car. When we climbed inside, though, I changed the subject.

"I found out more about Kieran. I think I understand why you don't want me to see him."

"Oh, yeah?"

"At first I thought it was because he was bi. And because he was a stripper and everything. But it just occurred to me that maybe it's really because you're afraid I'm going to hurt him."

Daniel didn't acknowledge or deny my conclusions. He was oddly dispassionate. "The last little bitch he brought around stood on my front lawn and screamed obscenities at him until one of my neighbors called the cops. We almost got kicked out by our landlord the next day."

"I'd never do anything like that."

Daniel glanced sideways at me, and then back at the road. "The one before her didn't make a scene, but told anyone with ears that Kieran was gay. She didn't even know about his job. Imagine what she would've spread about that. I think that one hurt him worse than the scene on the lawn. It was so much more underhanded."

"Women can be vicious."

"They're bitches. No offense."

I shrugged. "Men can be bitches, too. You don't really think I'd do any of those things to Kieran, do you?"

"Not the way things are right now, no. But if you were to fall for him...I think women do crazy things when they're in love."

"And guys panic. But I'm not going to fall in love with Kieran. We're just friends. I like hanging out with him, but I don't see us going any further. And it's not because he's bi-sexual, or because he strips at a gay bar. There just isn't any spark there. For either of us, I'm sure.

"I sure would like to see him work, though. That would really be something, I bet."

Daniel looked over at me to check my expression. "You really want to see him strip?"

"Yeah. I do."

"He works tonight."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Every Tuesday and Thursday night."

"Oh, wow. I guess I just assumed he worked the weekends."

"Nope. They open up the dance floor on the weekends. No room for a show."

"Can we go there tonight? Will you take me?"

Daniel winced as he thought about it. "Not many women there."

"I don't care. I only want to see him dance."

"You're going to see a lot more than that."

"Oh, come on."

"If Bryan wants to go, we'll go."

I clapped my hands like a little girl opening a Christmas gift.

"I'm going to text Kieran if we decide to go, though. No surprises."

"That's cool."

***

Kieran

I got Daniel's text as I was walking to my car to leave for work. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

If I hadn't just spoken with my boss on the phone, I'd have called in sick. As it was, Scott beat me to it. My boss was calling me to let me know that I would need to add an extra set. We ordinarily danced two sets in the evening and spent the rest of the time mingling. Tonight, there'd be less mingling and more performing, due to being short two dancers. It also meant less money. We made our money working the crowd, not on stage.

But now...shit. I wondered if I'd remember my routines. This would be the first time, ever, performing for a girl I knew. I mean, other than the owner's wife, or one of the other dancer's girlfriends. I wasn't the only non-gay dancer. In fact, most of the guys who'd come and gone over the past couple of years were at least bi. Two claimed to be hetero. I questioned that, though. Really?

I'd had such a great time talking with Bree earlier. She was so easy to open up to. I didn't get the slightest hint of judgment from her when I told her about my job and my sexual proclivity. It was really nice to just be able to talk to a girl who already knew two of my darkest secrets, and who wasn't desperately trying to escape my company. I didn't want to ruin this friendship we had.

I'd been hot for her since that kiss, but I sort of blocked it after we started becoming friends. This was new territory for me. I liked her company. Having sex would just ruin everything.

So, I filed her away in the "friend zone" and tried not to think about her luscious tits and curvy hips. Or her plump, pink lips and perfect, white skin. She was a classic beauty. The sort of woman that made guys want to change their wicked ways to marry.

Where the fuck did that come from?

I nervously peeked out from behind the backstage curtain to see if they'd arrived. I didn't see them, but at least a third of the room was hidden from my angled view.

Chad stepped up to the stairs leading on stage. He was about to start. I was last in the lineup, having seniority. I'd been dancing since my sophomore year. Being last meant more money. It always took the crowd a couple of sets to get drunk enough, and horny enough, to start throwing money around.

I backed away from the curtain and slunk back to the dressing room to get ready. If I was going to make it through this, I needed to get into character.

***

Bree

The first two dancers were pretty hot. The third one was down to his little g-string, so he was just about finished. He'd made a little cash. More than the first two, combined, though I couldn't see why. He wasn't nearly as good, I didn't think.

I held my breath as the drum beat of the new song began, and then released it in one huff when I saw that it wasn't Kieran. Daniel had warned me that Kieran was close to last, but that didn't tell me anything. I had no idea how many dancers there would be. The club wasn't that big, so I knew it wouldn't be like a Chippendales lineup, or anything.

I'd been to a few hetero, male strip clubs in my time, so I immediately started to draw comparisons. The most stark contrast was the atmosphere. The crowd was more reserved at this club. It was still early, though.

The dancer that'd just stripped came by our table. He paused, taunting Daniel, but got no response. He frowned and then glanced over at me before moving on. I wondered if I was cramping my brother's style. It hadn't even crossed my mind that my presence might be uncomfortable for him for other reasons. This was such new territory for us.

The club atmosphere was titillating. It was a little uncomfortable being in this kind of environment with my brother, the whole homosexual thing, aside. If these had been women dancers offering my brother a lap dance, I'd be just as unsettled.

I let my eyes follow the dancer who'd just walked past. He was straddling the lap of an older man at the next table. The man's left hand had come to rest on the dancer's lower back, his wedding ring casting a reflection off the stage lights. I wondered if he had a wife at home, and pretended to be heterosexual to his friends and family. How sad his life must be to have to hide this side of himself.

Is that what Kieran has to look forward to? It made me forlorn thinking about it.

I watched the fourth dancer remove his ripped bell bottoms to reveal a gold lamé bikini. The whole theme finally became apparent to me. These guys weren't just being cheesy for no reason, they were all following a seventies theme. That explained the disco music. I sort of giggled to myself for not noticing it right off. I thought they played "YMCA" because it was sung by gay men, and this was a gay club. That probably had something to do with it, but the real reason was that it was a disco song, released in the seventies.

I picked up my beer and realized that I'd hardly taken a sip of it. I was getting into the show a lot more than I wanted to admit, and things were starting to really get going. Guys lined up around the stage to shove bills in the dancer's g-string while he thrust his hips to show off his bulge. It was a little more vulgar than what I'd seen at strip clubs before. The dancers I'd seen were more subtle and teasing. They undressed a lot slower, sometimes taking two songs to get down to their g-string, which was always hidden beneath a pair of bikini bottoms. On the flip side, the women were always so frenzied and loud, shaking their tits and running their hands all over the dancer's bare ass.

But somehow, that environment was a whole lot less sexually charged than this one. These guys looked into each other's eyes as if they were fucking each other right there. There were no coy glances, no teasing, no outcries of fake orgasms. This was so much more honest and real. Intimate and raw.

I was watching the lap dance at the next table again. It was getting pretty heated. The man's hands were kneading the flesh of the dancer's bare behind, and the visual sent an unexpected jolt straight down my spine. I'd never seen two guys getting it on before. It was so ... so ... rough. All masculinity, which was not what I was expecting. I mean, I hadn't really thought about it all that much. If I'd known two men having sex looked like that, I would've been choosing different porn to watch this whole time. This was fucking hot.

I barely registered the next song starting. A dull, aching throb had settled between my thighs, and I didn't want to pull my eyes away from the two guys at the next table. Bryan nudged my knee, though, and then nodded at the stage. I looked up just in time to catch Kieran's eye before he spun into his next move.

It was a very different feeling, knowing the person on stage. I felt my hands go clammy as I panted through bated breaths. It might as well have been me on that stage twisting and turning, gyrating to the beat of Prince's song, "I Wanna Be Your Lover".