#t: 002 | draikoeques

[thesilverfullcr]

plotted starter for @draikoeques

The problem with letting Emmanellain plan anything was...well, everything.

Haurchefant knew this already, and yet he had let Emma plan Artoirel's bachelor party. Somehow, the wires had gotten crossed, and here they were, with the entire wedding party, with reservations for the night, with no other venues ready or willing to accept such a big party, at a gay strip club. For Artoirel, who was marrying a woman. And somehow, no one had realized it until they were there.

“Well,” Haurchefant said, clapping each of his brothers on the back with a wide grin, “we're already here, right? Let's just make the best of it. It's not like we're all straight, now, is it? Besides, they'll have drinks, and that's what we really want!”

And so, inside they went. There was a large table in front of the stage saved for them, and Haurchefant studiously did not look at the stage. That felt a little...well, he knew very well that these people were just doing their job, just looking for a paycheck, but it felt like he should not be looking at these scantily clad men hanging off the stripper pole. He just wanted a drink.

Artoirel was busily telling the waiter about the mistake his brother had made and how he was not at all gay, which made him sound more than ever like a closeted gay man. Haurchefant sighed and sipped his drink. Emmanellain was trying not to look like he was looking around in some wonder, while the other members of the wedding party were awkwardly joking with each other. This had been...a poor idea, probably.

It was Emmanellain who confronted him about the way he was focused on his drink. “We're here for you, brother, and you're not even watching the stage?”

“Nonesense, we're here for Arotoirel!” Haurchefant insisted, only to get a sour look from his elder brother.

“Okay, but you're the bisexual one,” Emma said. “The rest of us are straight – ”

Haurchefant snorted.

“I am, that thing with Francel doesn't count.”

“You should ask Francel if he thinks it 'didn't count.'”

“Anyway, you should be watching! These are performers, and they're performing for your gaze!” Emma insisted.

“I don't know, it just seems a little demeaning is all,” Haurchefant admitted. “Like I'm disrespecting them by looking, you know?”

“Haurche, this is a strip club. They're dancing like that on purpose, because they want to entertain us – you. They want to entertain you, specifically. Look, that one is looking right at you.”

Haurchefant looked up against his better judgment. There was a lavender skinned beauty upside down on the pole, and sure enough, he was looking at Haurchefant. It was everything he could do to will himself not to blush at the wink he received when their eyes met. He gave a half hearted smile to the dancer and then forced himself to look back at Emmanellain.

“It just feels bad,” he said insistently, spreading his hands out.

Emma rolled his eyes and went back to his drink. “At least one of us should enjoy himself.”

[thesilverfullcr]

Haurchefant chuckled at what he assumed was a joke about broken noses. It was not the most tasteful joke, for sure, just reminding him how terrible some men could be. Fortunately, Rothelion would receive none of that from Haurchefant or anyone from his table, as Ro had accurately guessed. Mostly straight men, indeed.

“Nice to meet you, Ro,” Haurchefant said with a nod. “I'm Haurchefant, and that one you are thoroughly embarrassing is Emmanellain. Our brother who is to be wed tomorrow is Artoirel, and you are right, his bride-to-be will definitely be happier knowing our little mistake tonight.” He laughed. Artoirel was much like his father, but Haurchefant's very existence would probably be enough to put him off of cheating.

Emmanellain was pushing past his embarrassment and cleared his throat. “You'll probably want to flirt with him more, because I'm not gay,” he stated, pointing at Haurchefant.

“You wouldn't be so embarrassed right now if you were straight,” Haurchefant teased, not bothering to deny the truth.

“M'not embarrassed for myself – I'm embarrassed for him, who is flirting with the wrong guy,” Emma insisted, folding his arms over his chest.

There was the reaction he was looking for; he could not help but smile as the man stammered and reddened severe enough to be seen even in the dim club. He laughed, casting an arm over the shoulders of the poor man he was quite literally torturing. His eyes, though, once more landed upon the silver-haired man.

"Didn't realize?" He tuts, shaking his head and chuckling. He shifted forward, resting forearms upon the table and leaning. "Well, your brother's wife-to-be may be much more relieved to know her very straight fiance had a party here and not with a place full of pretty women. Although given the look of him, I couldn't imagine him straying. Lucky lady," he said, winking at Artoirel. He hummed, turning his body so that he faced the one brave and steady enough to speak in fluent sentences. He lifted an arm, propping his chin upon the palm of his hand as he eyed him.

"Mostly straight men?" he teased, smiling. "Hey, this makes my job easier. Some of the more handsy patrons are here tonight, and I've already reached my allocated limit of broken noses, you'll save me from getting another sit-down with my manager," he added with a laugh. It may come off as a joke, but Rothalion is very much serious. He hummed, tilting his head.

"What's your name then, sweetie?" he asked, pausing a moment ere he added, "I'm Rothalion, but feel free to call me Ro. I don't care to use a stage name, it feels a little silly."

[thesilverfullcr]

The dancer that Haurchefant had noticed soon joined them at their table, dismissing the previous man attending them. Artoirel was, at last, drinking the wine he had ordered, and Emmanellain was sipping at his cocktail and rolling his eyes at Haurchefant.

To his own purposes, Haurchefant was taking it easy on the drinks. He wasn't in the wedding itself – that would not be proper for a bastard son, even though his stepmother was long gone – but he was the Master of Ceremonies, which was much more involved than simply standing at the front of the chapel and looking nice. He had a lot to do tomorrow to make sure everything ran smoothly, and he intended to do it.

Tonight wasn't going exactly as planned. But Emmanellain would inevitably take the fall for that one, and the boys did seem to be loosening up a little bit.

When the dancer from earlier wedged himself between Haurchefant and Emmanellain, he was a little surprised. But the dancer had gone for the weakest looking link, it seemed, because he was nearly on poor Emma's lap. Emmanellain had gone very red in the face and was stammering out something about his brother getting married.

Well, Haurchefant could be nice to him once in a while.

“Our brother, Artoirel, is getting married tomorrow,” he said, gesturing to the groom-to-be. He made sure to only look at the dancer's face, not wanting to ogle him, despite the fact that he was very handsome. “To a woman. Poor dear Emmanellain here didn't realize this was a gay bar when he booked the venue. Needless to say, you're stuck with a bunch of mostly straight men tonight.”

Regardless of what their clientele was, Rothalion knew well he had to put on a show. Luckily for him it was the dancing that he loved the most, the looks a bonus when he otherwise had little to support the little crumbs of self-esteem he had left.

Coloured light dances off glitter of soft blues, violets and pinks as he stepped onto the stage, bright green eyes flicking to eye the crowd. Hmm. There were more than usual and from a scant glance he knew well many of those in the small party were confused if not completely uncomfortable. A few even glanced his way, ducking their heads swiftly if only to make it out to be curiosity if caught at all. Rothalion chuckled, fingers curling around the pole.

The dance was routine, Ro rarely diverting from a routine that always pleased those who watched with bated breath. His body glided about the pole, arms tensing as he pulled himself up higher and flipped his body. Every movement he made was effortless and smooth as if gravity did not affect him, as if he did naught more than lift a pencil. It was as he flipped upside down that his eyes flicked and met those of one man, someone he had noticed prior refused to look up. He smiled, winking playfully and uttering an amused chuckle as the man looked away swiftly. That one looked far more interested than the rest, he wondered why he didn't stare like the rest of the patrons he experienced regularly. Rothalion shifted a hand, grip tightening as he swung his body right side up and gracefully slipped down the pole in a brief spiral. That one, he decided, was who he wished to approach most.

When his session on the stage was over he returned to the back, ruffling fingers through his hair and counting the bills he had received from his display. Thank the gods his manager cared little about pooling tips, he thought, stuffing the wad of cash into his bag ere he touched up the glitter upon his body, fiddled with a strap of his particularly revealing ensemble, and stepped back out onto the floor.

"Tell the boys to leave that one for me," he called to the bartender, flashing a smile as he gestured towards the tall man still avoiding glancing at anything but his drink. "They might scare the poor thing away."

The bartender rolled his eyes and waved him off, but despite the nonchalance it was likely he would do as asked.

Rothalion strut his way to the table of newcomers, not a single man in the party recognized making them stick out like a sore thumb. There was already one of his coworkers listening to what looked to be the groom still going on about the circumstances... or maybe he was making a point to tell everyone? The dancer he spoke to feigned interest and concern but Rothalion knew he wanted nothing more than to end the day and go home.

"Pierrot, dear, take a rest in the back. Your shift is almost over, yes?" he said, smiling warmly. The other man, Pierrot, looked immensely relieved to be given some manner of break, nodding and moving away. Rothalion idly ran fingers through his own hair, eyes swivelling to peer at each face at the table. "So, I hear we have a mistake, hmm?"

Despite words it is clear he is to show no more than light sympathy, drawing closer and leaning over their table.

"Unfortunately the owner doesn't like doing refunds, so for now you're a little stuck with us, no? At least enjoy your time, even if you are approached none of the other men will do anything you don't want. The drinks are good, at least." Rothalion smiled, a mischievous glint within eyes as he sat down between the long-haired, evidently lost puppy of a man and the handsome silver-haired man he had caught looking earlier. He shifted, although just yet he wasn't about to intimidate the man he was most interested in; instead, he shifted so he was nearly within Emmanellain's lap. "What's the occasion, dear? Someone getting married?"

Even as he speaks, his eyes flick over to the silver-haired man. Close-up he could see the other man's eyes far more clearly, the colour evidently a deep azure. Cute.