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Apr. 27th, 2011 07:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xstarlesscity
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m0rae (moreae.tumblr.com)and xstarlesscity (imgaydidntyouknow.tumblr.com)GUIDELINES:
- you can be anon, but you don't have to be anon. you take full credit for your pervy thoughts if you like, but don't feel pressured.
- one prompt per post, please.
- read over the requests and fill them with fic and art. both are encouraged!
- a post can be filled multiple times. just because someone drew it doesn't mean you can't write it, or draw it again. and again and again and again. the more the merrier.
- absolutely NO hating on other people's kinks. there is a 0% chance that writing or requesting fic or art will hurt anyone, so live and let live.
- pimp us around! most of this fandom isn't on lj, so the more this gets pimped, the more likely it is that your requests will get filled. post the banner on tumblr with a click-through link to this page!
let's get this party started.
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Just For Show 1/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:48 pm (UTC)---
The fluorescent lights were warm and hazy in the smoke added for effect; sending a mysteriously enchanting scent of incense and French perfume around the large ballroom and stage whilst leaving a hint of reminiscent glamour of sweet cigarettes. Hands met ivory and music echoed throughout the area and it reverberated the walls, shaking tables and glasses only slightly but in a soothing manor. Yet those draped blood red curtains remained cruelly closed. The girls behind stage could feel the anticipation growing from the restless audience sitting comfortably in their loveseats and behind candle-lit tables, waiting for the show to begin.
A certain young bartender was anxious too, but his anxiety was for another reason. He stood in the back, parallel from the stage many yards away but with the perfect view to entice it all into one’s senses. He kept himself busy as best as he could by carefully polishing the inside of a glass defiled with smudgy fingerprints for the last ten minutes; hoping to catch a glimpse of the show before heading down to the musky cellar for mandatory inventory. A small smile drew to his lips when he saw Pedro; the always fabulous socialite and tough-love boss of his step around guests, arms on shoulders and clinging to their exposed money like flour to water. He smirked and gave up his mindless task, setting the glass down with a small chink and tossing the dingy towel in. He crossed his arms impatiently and began mindlessly into his habit of inspecting the glossy oak floor, studying the cracks as if they too were fingerprints needed cleaned.
“Lillet Blanc. On the rocks.”
Gaspard looked up and nodded at the order; glad to have a fresh excuse. He grasped a fresh glass off of the mirrored wall and returned to his customer, a man in a tan waist-length coat and dark fedora, eyes on Gaspard making the poison but both minds on the incoming ladies. Being the polite bartender he was taught to be, he shot a quick “You come here often?” at the stranger, knowing very well that the man did. He had seen this gentleman before.
The crisp black fedora covering the man’s eyes feathered upward as he tousled with it; but his face remained lost in the shadows of the light already lost on the stage curtains. “Of course.”
Gaspard hummed along under his breath to the chords from the pianist ringing out and he identified each one with ease; knowing exactly when the player hit an accidental A key when he should’ve hit a B minor. Content with preparing the drink he let his mind wander off, imagining his own boney hands gliding over the keys with ease and precision, producing that same effort into it as he gave into cocktail making. When it came down to the wire, Gaspard’s hands could do nearly anything that he put his mind to, making whatever it was damn near perfect at that. Maybe that was why Pedro had dubbed him “Handjob” out of sheer spite, because all of his jobs at the popular Club Tous Pour Voir revolved around his miraculously smooth fingers. Pedro had plenty of other abusing nicknames for Gaspard too, but that one was the only one that he could really shrug off. He was proud of himself for actually doing something he thought was worthwhile with his life, no matter how much Pedro put him down for it.
In all actuality Gaspard didn’t really know why he was here. In the past year he had had the time of his young life being a combined musician and artist in his dinky little Parisian flat, dwindling days and thoughts away being hypnotized by salty jazz, sweet rock and gooey black metal. In his art entranced state he had designed his first tattoo; a small black triangle with a keyhole in the middle and positioned on his right arm. It was a symbol of what he stood for, who he wanted to be and what he wanted. But that was just it: everything you wanted, craved, lusted for would disappear if you were as broke as the day you were born. Eventually, Gaspard came to the realization that artists couldn’t starve their selves for art forever. Either it was become a prostitute or end up shaking bottles – literally.
Just For Show 2/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:49 pm (UTC)It was especially tasteful when there was one certain person - one non-typical dancer- that he took an oath to always pause and watch regardless of what he was doing or who he was attending to. That one dancer that always seemed to shake him to his core.
And yet, he didn’t even know her name- she was new to the Club and hidden from anyone except Pedro; who had taken quite a liking to this dancer, which was odd for the come-one-come-all policy Club owner. If he choose favorite girls all hell would break loose, so he was definitely playing with fire with that certain dancer.
Gaspard pushed the completed drink to the man, who grunted his thanks. He wiped his hands on his pants and kept his eyes stuck on the stage, heart pounding in his chest as the curtain slowly drifted up to the ceiling and the lights dimmed. The faint aroma of orange peel on his hands and counter from the drink hit the air and tangled with the smoke and it shot a shiver up his spine.
He really loved his job right at this second.
The lights returned and flashed onto three girls, all clad in dark crystal-encrusted gowns that cost more each than Gaspard’s precious limited edition vinyl, apartment and belongings combined. He leaned back onto the counter and searched their faces hungrily, disappointed when the certain girl did not appear on stage with the others. Suddenly they were boring to him – he had acquired a taste for the darker, Vietnamese noname who had a special act when it came to moving her hips.
He leaned off of the counter and sighed to himself, that love for his job draining and turning into dread.
As he approached the first step of the dusty cellar he forced himself to look up again, stunned by the silent entrance of another new girl, this one clad solely in black silk garment that Gaspard couldn’t fully figure out what exactly it was but liked it all the same. She turned around slowly, thighs dusted with enough glitter for a child’s birthday party. With a jolt Gaspard realized that it was the girl, the one he had been so secretly attracted to for weeks. Her hands graced the air, showing off the tiniest arms he had ever seen on a girl before. In fact, he had never seen a girl with such twig-like arms.
He gave her his full attention and balanced his head on the railing, watching from the shadows where no one could see him and everyone could see her. The heads of the crowd disappeared with his intense gaze, making everything feel intimate- like she was performing only for him.
She gripped the microphone in front of her face and flipped the short and wavy black hair cut perfectly around her face back and forth; proving it was not a synthetic saran wig like the others. Noname pressed her full, vividly pink with lip-gloss lips into the microphone. “Tout ce que je demande à ce que vous faites,” she crooned in a deeper voice than expected but still irresistible all the same. It was the first time she was singing for the Club instead of being in the show line.“C'est pourquoi vous devez quitter quand nous avons commence?”
Just For Show 3/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:49 pm (UTC)Then the music stopped and it left silence except for the heavy panting uttering from the girl’s perfect mouth. “So, please.“ She licked her lips after uttering lingering whispers of English and laughed. “Dites-moi pourquoi?” The band jumped back to life for the finale as she belted out the last lines of the short performance, pausing only after singing to jump back into the ending dance routine with the other girls and bowing happily as the crowd erupted into applause at the display. Gaspard surfaced from the shadows and clapped slowly alongside with the other bartenders, keeping a reproachful poker face but dying on the inside from sheer sexual pleasure.
He really needed to find out her name.
“You need to get some sleep.” Bertrand laughed as Gaspard yawned for the sixty millionth time. The club had died down and the staff was cleaning up; faint shrieks of girlish laughter behind stage heard throughout the building. The two were scrubbing down their sides of the bar, stocking up for tomorrow and so forth. It was nearly four in the morning.
Gaspard shook his head wearily. “Pedro will kill me if I leave early, man.” He moved a barstool and looked at his fellow bartender and friend. “Besides, I’ve got someone to talk to.”
Bertrand’s strawberry blonde eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Who, pray tell?”
Gaspard blushed under the mass of brown curls, hearing the knowledgeable humor in Bertrand’s voice. “No one.”
Bertrand clapped his hands at him. “You want to talk to one of the girls!” He exclaimed, hands motioning to backstage. “Pedro’s gonna kill you no matter what you do now.”
Gaspard sighed and regretted his words severely. “I don’t care what Pedro thinks.” He muttered.
“Oh really?” A happy voice boomed from behind Gaspard’s neck and he jumped; whirling around next to Bertrand to find Pedro smiling gleefully at him. “And what exactly should I not care about?”
Bertrand snickered and moved away slowly, using Pedro’s favoritism against him in his full advantage. Pedro had a soft spot for people like Bertrand, hard, diligent workers who always took an extra shift to suck up. It had paid off in the long run for Bertrand but unfortunately, not for Gaspard.
He swallowed. “Uh- we were just saying that-“ Pedro arched his eyebrows at him and kept that smug little smile plastered on his face as he watched his prey squirm. “That you should let me help with security tonight and Bertrand and I had a disagreement over whether or not to ask you.” He gritted his teeth as he lied straight through them. He always was a terrible liar.
Just For Show 4/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:50 pm (UTC)Pedro whipped around and Gaspard moved back instinctively. Putting a hand on his mouth for a second Pedro stood and watched Gaspard as if he was cattle to be decided on slaughter.
“Only this once.” He said quickly, eyes drawn together in a taut line. “Don’t make me regret this,” he warned, and sulked off; leaving Gaspard’s eyes wide open in shock over winning the argument – and that quickly too. Bertrand’s head popped up from the cellar and he grinned at Gaspard’s still figure. “He’s still going to kill you,” he sang in a mock tone; causing Gaspard to throw his towel at him and make Bertrand start laughing.
“Goodnight ladies.”
A group of tired performers murmured back goodbyes to the man politely as they crossed their arms and walked out through the back door of the club; some parting to walk the sidewalks with other bodyguards and others to their streetlight-bathed cars. The orange light cast a creepy glow on the heavily muscular bodyguard that Gaspard was standing next to awkwardly, with his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and unlit package of cigarettes in his jeans. The bodyguard watched another group of girls exit and checked another box on his clipboard. He seemed to be handling ignoring Gaspard standing next to him quite well because conversation with him wasn’t an option.
The cool Parisian air struck Gaspard and he shivered for a moment uncontrollably, eyes peeled for the certain girl in the last herd of beautiful women leaving the red-lit dressing rooms. He was afraid she already left earlier, seeing as there weren’t as many girls left in the club and the bartenders had been excused from their shifts over a half an hour ago. And since they were responsible for light cleaning of the building, the bartenders nearly always were the last to leave.
For a moment, Gaspard worried that Pedro had only positioned him here to look stupid and waste his time and he bit his lip. Almost instantaneously all thoughts were lost as the very girl stuck on his brain descended from the spiral staircase, sling backpack on hip and red beanie on, completely alone. For all he knew, Gaspard realized that it was a very good possibility that there were no more groups and she was last to be escorted, maybe by him at that.
Whatever happened he still found his feet and mouth instantly frozen – but from the cold or the girl he couldn’t be truly sure.
“Hey Paul,” she smiled, husky voice echoing down the corridor as she approached the bodyguard. “Guess it’s just you and me tonight.”
Just For Show 5/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:50 pm (UTC)She turned to Gaspard and noticed him for the first time; smile growing on her face. “Oh- Hi.” She said simply, and stuck out a tiny hand coated in excess sugary glitter. He took it, muttering a quick “Hi” back as he stood searching her face, a crooked grin stuck on her tanned skin. From what Gaspard saw she was now a day and night difference from the dancer he had seen on stage. Although some of her makeup was left on, she had changed into a grey lightweight v-neck covered by some vintage leather jacket and jean combo. Her Adidas high-tops, he noticed, were not unlike a pair Gaspard had in his closet at home. The beanie slipped a little bit down the slide of her face and he could see up close the extremely feminine features of her face but still…something threw him off about her. Something he just couldn’t put his finger on.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” She said briskly to the bodyguard after they dropped their hands. She patted the backpack slung around her slim frame and turned back to Gaspard. “Come on, I don’t live far away.” She beckoned him to walk and Gaspard followed, feeling sort of stupid or like a clingy stray dog.
He hurried up beside her and kept his hands in his pockets and mouth shut as they strolled through the backstreets of Paris. It was almost surreal.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” she said suddenly after they had walked a couple of blocks from the club. She smiled again at Gaspard for some unknown reason and stopped and held out her hand again. “Sorry, but it isn’t a proper greeting if I don’t somewhat introduce myself. I’m Minxie.”
They exchanged hands again and he nodded at her. “Gaspard Augé.”
Her eyes widened as they regained pace. “That’s such a pretty name.”
He snorted. “What, the Augé part? I guess.”
She shook her head as the large, soft brown eyes took in the night scene. “No, the Gaspard part. It’s pretty. I like that name.”
“Oh.” He was at a loss for words and his heart beating in his chest was like a synthetic drum beat that could very well find on his electronic keyboard back home. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
They had approached a crosswalk and they stopped as a few cars flew by, loud rap verses screaming dirty French slang drummed out in the car subwoofers. Something clicked in Gaspard’s mind as he stared at the girl secretly at the crosswalk, repeatedly hearing her voice pronouncing “Minxie” over and over in his head like a record. He somewhat hoped that Minxie was probably just her stage nickname or backstage moniker- who would actually name their daughter Minxie?
“Is Minxie your real name?”
She shot a glance at him, dreamy smile dropped from her beautiful face. “Uh- not exactly.”
He cocked his head. “Then will you tell me it?”
She must’ve been prepared for that response because instantly her expression darkened and even in the silence of the shadows he could tell he had said something wrong. When the crosswalk flashed green she hurried forward, head bent down and arms crossed.
“Hey!”
Just For Show 6/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:51 pm (UTC)She huffed angrily but it only came off to Gaspard as weirdly and strikingly adorable. “You wouldn’t understand.”
He chuckled lightly. “Then just tell me and I will, Miss Minxie.”
“It’s Xavier.”
The words had slipped out so easily and quickly that Gaspard wasn’t sure if his mind had imagined what the girl in the leather jacket and jeans had just said or if it was real. She smiled bashfully, almost sadly. “I lie to everyone else back there.” She was whispering now even though they were completely and utterly alone. “But there’s just something about you that I can’t do it. You’re just too fucking… nice. I’m sorry.”
Her hands yanked off the beanie and the cropped mess returned to vision in the soft orange glow of the corner streetlight. But Gaspard now saw another performer in his eyes, completely different than before.
“I- Well- My name is Xavier de Rosnay and –“ the voice cracked with a watery chuckle. “Oops, I’m a man.”
Gaspard’s face went slack for a moment and he felt a warm blush rise onto his cheeks. “Y-you’re a male?” He felt his head spin for a second.
Xavier gave him a small smile and nodded, head bent ashamedly. “Pedro knows.” He sniffed but his eyes remained dry. “I have no clue how I ended up as an exotic dancer but… here I am. A man in a woman’s profession. Again- I’m so fucking sorry you had to find out this way.”
Gaspard’s mind flurried with thoughts, each one more disturbed and confused than the last. In the dark his face turned from embarrassment to humor to astonishment and all over again as he digested the fact that he had a huge crush on a boy for the longest time but without a single clue.
He winced at himself, lost in the moment in between his thoughts and feelings, which were playing a game of extreme Tug-of-War.
“Say something, please.”
The pleading words shook Gaspard from his trance couldn’t find the right words to say, not at that moment at least. He was a thinker by choice, always evaluating the situation around himself in moments like these instead of jumping into accusations. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water. When he finally did speak it came out in a jumbled rush as several emotions took control.
“It’s funny.” His voice was slightly horse. “Because I too know how it feels to have no idea how I ended up at my job as a bartender. I mean- I do, I asked for the job- but I just don’t know how I became so controlled by it. Min- Xavier, I don’t care that you’re a man. That’s pretty much all I have to say because we all do shit that we’re not proud of and if you want to dance so be it. And for god’s sakes I have no issues with men but…” his voice trailed off and he tried to look into Xavier’s miserable doe eyes the best that he could in the dark. Everything had gotten so serious and complicated all of a sudden and he didn’t like it like this. “I just, well, really like you and this is just a little bit of a shock to me.”
Xavier looked up instantly, his face as bright as a lit candle. He yanked on his hand and Gaspard followed aimlessly, not even bothering to question him when the tiny young man drug him behind an alley to a spot under a buzzing streetlight, pressing their bodies against the gritty brick wall. They could see each other’s faces now and they both blushed at the absurdness of it all; finding themselves even more attracted to each other in the weirdest situation possible.
But even with the minor physical differences it was an eerie notion of like looking at your twin.
Just For Show 7/7
Date: 2011-07-24 09:51 pm (UTC)These said men, relatively the same age (give or take) were both confused with their lives and didn’t have a clue where to put their next foot due to being afraid of change. Even if they didn’t know it yet they would soon enough find out that they loved the same records, were passionate about the same art and both had Metallica merchandise hanging up in their closets. They just clicked.
With anyone else it would have been absurd but just now, it felt whole. Correct.
They exchanged glances and Gaspard began to hear blood rushing his head as he saw the tiny dancer with new eyes. He wasn’t just a cross-dressing exotic performer anymore.
And Xavier looked back, able to breathe easy as he held no lies from this man at his mercy.
All ideas of escorting Xavier to his house safely were abandoned as Xavier held out a single palm for Gaspard to hold so they could keep warm in the chilly air (if that really was the reason.)
“You like me?” Xavier suddenly piped up, nose crinkling at the man as if he were an old friend even though he had just officially met him less than an hour ago. “Even though that I’m a different gender than you thought?”
Gaspard paused and instinctively touched the keyhole on his arm, drawing Xavier’s attention to it immediately. “Why wouldn’t I?” Gaspard asked. “I’ve watched you for weeks,” he added bashfully. “Do you really think that the fact we have the same sex will stop me from liking you?”
They looked hurriedly down at their feet at the word sex and Gaspard shuffled his absentmindedly. “I know this all sounds so quick and strange,” he quipped in the silence. “But it feels like I-“
“Know you? I feel that way too; like we’re connected or something.”
“Exact-” Gaspard’s words were lost in his throat as Xavier impulsively grasped the back of his neck and leaned up on tiptoes so that their lips could meet. Honestly, Gaspard thought he should’ve felt more surprised at this intimate motion between practical strangers but he found himself lost in the swift notion and settled into Xavier, his quick hands around the younger boy’s waist so their bodies could press together. Seconds, moments, hours passed…everything was a triumphant blur of passion until a single rumble of thunder shook the entwined apart and a light drizzle of a summer night’s rain descended upon the two. Xavier looked up into the sky and watched breathlessly as a single crack of lightning lit up the sky like a single white firework. It was as breathtaking as the kiss and truth be told summed it up pretty well too.
“Come on,” Gaspard held his hand and Xavier snapped back to him. “We’ll get poured on if we stay here much longer.” So he took it and off they went, thunder rumbling around them like angry drums. Gaspard had been correct; by the time they had reached Gaspard’s apartment (it happened to actually be closer than Xavier’s) both of them were drenched in the crisp rain.
“You’d better come inside,” shouted Gaspard over the noises of the monsoon. “Hopefully it’ll calm down pretty soon, if not, then…” He blushed but the curly hair mangled in sopping wet ringlets covered his face all the way down to his eyes, making him look something of a wet dog. The hair fell in his eyes annoyingly and he brushed it furiously out of his face even as the rain insisted on pushing it back.
Xavier laughed but most of it was lost in the latest stroke of lightning. He dropped their hands; both of their assorted clothing in heavily wet and weighing down their shoulders and Xavier pushed the mop of wet curls out of Gaspard’s face and laughed again. A sheepish grin grew on Gaspard’s face as they stood on the doorstep of his apartment building, feeling the electricity pulse through their bodies. Xavier leaned in to Gaspard’s ear and still kept his hands in the tangled curly mess. “Pedro’s going to kill you if he finds out I stayed over,” he teased. “I don’t want to put you in a position for you to lose your job.”
Gaspard smiled warmly as he glimpsed into the performer’s wide-as-dinner-plates eyes, lit up enchantingly blue for a second in the lightning strike. “Then it will have be our little secret.”
Re: Just For Show 7/7
Date: 2011-07-24 10:10 pm (UTC)very very well done, surprised that this has no comments yet
*applause*
Date: 2011-07-25 04:57 am (UTC)Well done, Bravo, Encore, keep writing because you do it so well!
Re: *applause*
Date: 2011-07-26 03:47 am (UTC)You have no idea how much your kind comment means to me! I've literally been reduced to a blubbering mess.
I'm glad to see that someone thinks I've been improving (critiques are always welcome). Thank you so much.
Woah
Date: 2011-07-28 04:23 am (UTC)