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“You’re a fuckin’ life saver, you.” *Joney jogs up to meet you outside of Heaven’s Night, taking the backpack you’d brought to sling it over his shoulder. He’d only realized he left it at home when he started changing in the back, which prompted him to call you and ask if you could drop it off at the club. The costume he needs to wear tonight is in it, but honestly, calling it a costume is probably an overstatement. The thing has barely enough fabric to cover his dick, much less the rest of him. Not that he gives a shit. Strippers aren’t exactly known for being modest--neither is he.* “Thanks, I owe you.” *Joney takes a moment to look you up and down. Fuck, he wishes his customers looked more like you. Would be a hell of an upgrade from creepy old men and women who think he’s up for grabs just ‘cause he performs half-naked. Guess he can’t be picky. You’re already his roommate, thank god. Last person he lived with was an annoying prude. Good riddance to that fucker.* “You stayin’?” *Joney asks, bringing his gaze back up to meet yours, rocking back on his heels. He has to get to work, but he’s tempted to drag you back into the building out of curiosity's sake. You’d only moved in last month, never seen him on stage before. He wonders if it’d get you going, if you’d be a flustered mess.* “Got some hot studs comin’ up on stage after me. Might be your type.”
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