Love Stoned by Justin Timberlake bombed throughout Gedeon’s. The club was packed as ever, one for it being one the stripper’s birthday’s who shockingly wanted to work on his birthday. Deimos was watching him, ready to jump in case he fell.
“I know I’m not working today, but mind if I join in on the fun friendo?” Deimos looked down at his left side to see a messy sight of brunette and blond plush locks bouncing up and down. Erien was smiling at him, dancing to the music. Deimos chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair,” You came so you can do the dance thing with him, didn’t you?”
“Well duh! Come on,” Erien looked over at the stage seeing one of his co-worker’s dancing to the music, the skirt he wore swaying to the beat.
“I promised him we’d danced to one of the Justin Timberlake songs together. Get Trap and Cuntboy back,” Erien cooed with his tongue sticking out. Deimos frowned at the name that he and the other one gave each other no thanks to the customers coming to them and calling them that the last time they were on stage together.
“I really wish you two didn’t agree to those names. Sometimes it seems they are just disrespecting you two. Slurs and slang whatever.”
Erien scoffed at Deimos’s concern and smiled. A reassuring smile that was.
“We both agreed to it because it makes us feel, actually, pretty empowered. As much as it may be a slur and whatever, you can’t have it used against you in disrespect if you use that name to empower you. Some slur names, maybe not. But you can’t let people take you down to their level. Nu-uh. Got that?”
Deimos knew he just got schooled by a nineteen-year-old. Ha! An almost twenty-two-year-old getting schooled by a nineteen-year-old. Sad!
“As long as you feel good and feel like nothing is wrong with it, both of you, then okay. Just let me know.” Erien nodded happily before swaying to the music. The boy bobbing up and down and then darting off to the dressing room once it was time. It was just a birthday present Suntrap wanted. Pfft, Suntrap, what a stage name, but it was cute.
The music had changed to Rock Your Body, Sun and Erien popping up in nearly matching outfits. Devil and Angel, ironic if you think about it. Though, Deimos watched the crowd sing along to the music as Sun and Erien danced around on stage, hands clasped to the metal pole in the centre.
Erien dressed in the black, red, and dark purple Angel outfit, the flip making it more look devilish. His black lolita shoes tapping against the tiled flooring. Suntrap flipped the white and pink tutu that went along with the Devil outfit that was made to look angel-like.
“Erien is really the Devil who is really the kind angel. Why in the world would he disagree even with rejecting the Devil outfit made to look like an angel? Tsk.” Deimos lit a cigarette, the smoke blurry his vision a bit. His thoughts dizzying some with only the annoying thoughts of what if him and that Salvatore guy getting closer.
“I can speak as much as I want. But I am not God. Nor am I Satan. I do not make choices. I am just a mere watcher.” Deimos looked over that the stage again, smiling a bit to himself,” I am just a worshiper. Probably of neither.”
➼
Sun and Erien hugged each other good-bye before Suntrap exited the building. Erien was still sitting at the dressing room mirrors, sitting in black leather mini shorts and back full body harness accessory. The little wings flipped back and forth as Erien rolled in the plush seat.
“Why not wear the Devil outfit that Suntrap wore tonight? You do have it in your size. I know you have it at home after you asked me to order you it.” Deimos was leaning on the dressing room door frame, smiling a bit half drunk. Erien rolled his eyes and he unclicked the harness and wings and placed them into his duffel bag. He slid on his hoodie and clean thigh highs before tying on his sneakers,” Look Deimos, I have my reasons. Maybe one day I will. But I have to have the right time.”
“Right time?”
Erien gave out his famous giggled chuckle and jumped to his feet, duffel bag flung over his shoulder,” Don’t you remember? Worshipper complex! I would feel silly wearing something like that outfit on a wrong day. It has to be the right day for it. And for a good reason. That’s how the best shows work out you know. You have to feel the moment, the outfit, the music, the atmosphere, all of it.”
Deimos stepped out of the way for Erien as he crossed the dining floor as other staff flipped chairs up onto the tables. Deimos followed Erien out to the front door, ready to lock it.
“Nothing is worth it if you can’t take a risk,” Deimos reminded the small boy in front of him. Compared to Deimos’s height of six foot five inches, Erien’s five foot three inches seemed ant-like.
Erien pivoted on his heel, a soft sad glance placed with a simple smile. He only nodded before waving Deimos off and ran down the cracked ruined sidewalk.
“Stubborn. You are so stubborn. But we all are. That’s why we all stick together and rely on one another. We help each other out. So, please listen to my words soon.” Deimos locked the doors and headed back inside the closed strip club.
“Damnit, I need a drink. Hopefully my dumbass will stop trying to be the father of this damn group so they can all grow up.”
➼
“Get out.”
“Come on, let’s talk about this?” shaggy black and gold hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail as it swayed from the walking movement. Beer bottle-green eyes eyed the thin male’s body as he was trapped between the front door and the larger and leaner male.
Brown eyes shifted down a bit, wishing that his apartment door swung outward. The same green eyes grew only darker as his tattooed hands snatched at Erien’s arm and yanked him up. The once homey cigarette and light boozy smell from his friends and work was now intoxicating and suffocating scary from this one person.
“You know when to get the fuck up. Don’t play dumb with me. Let’s spend the night together. Why don’t we, like old times, eh?” The silky-smooth taunt was uncomfortable and claustrophobic. But as much as the inside hated it, wanting to scream and attack, fight or flight kicked in and his mind and body chose nothing. Knowing that even if they choose, it’s host would be in trouble no matter what the definite manner.
“Okay, Cassius...okay.”
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