A New Kind of Denial

“So where exactly are we going?” I asked Ianto as we took a couple turns down roads I haven’t been down yet. He was sort of vague when he told me he had something he wanted to show me tonight, and as we made our way through what seemed to be the sketchy part of town, I really started to wonder what was going on and where we were headed.

“Jason and I both decided that you should see this. We know it’s going to come as a shock to you, but we think it’s best,”

“You’re really not telling me much here Ianto,”

“It’s better that you take it all in at once,” he said, turning down a road that seemed to lead to nowhere until we started passing tattoo shops and liquor stores. “Plus, we’re almost there.”

“Where are we going? ‘Sleazy’s Tattoo Joint’?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he chuckled. “It’s called the ‘Peacock’s Nest’.”

“Yeah, because that’s so much better, I scoffed.

“Well, either way, here we are,” he said, pulling into a parking lot outside of a seedy looking bar. There weren’t any windows, so I couldn’t see into the place anywhere except through the front door.

“What exactly is ‘here’?” I asked, giving the place a very skeptical look, still wondering what the hell we were doing here.

“You should see for yourself. Just go in and ask for Night,”

“You’re not going to tell me who Night is, are you?”

“You need to find out yourself,”

“Alright, whatever,” I shrugged. Then I realized something he said. “Wait, you’re not coming in with me?”

“No; you need to see this on your own. I'm not going to hold your hand through this. Yeah, it might be rough to see, and you probably won’t want to see it, but you need to see it. And however much you might want to, don’t come back out here. I'm going to call you when I think you’ve seen what you need to see, alright?”

“Um, I guess, yeah,” I agreed hesitantly. I was slightly worried about what I was supposed to be seeing and why I might not want to see it, but I figured that if Jason and Ianto thought that I needed to see it, then it was probably for the best.

“So go on and I'll see you in a little bit, yeah?”

“Okay,” I sighed, opening the passenger door and stepping out onto the cracking pavement. I closed the door, took a deep breath and got ready to see whatever it was those two wanted me to see. The front door opened into a dimly lit lobby-of-sorts, where several couples were occupying the benches lining the area. I stepped past them and entered a place I never thought I’d step foot in. There was a bar lining one wall and a stage lining another. On the stage were three separate poles spaced equally apart, with people dancing erotically on them. Aside from the bar and the stage, there were booths and tables scattered across the floor, people sitting at them and drinking, gambling, receiving lap dances, celebrating bachelor parties too, probably.

I shook my head, failing to take in everything properly, and walked towards the bar. The bar tender walked over to me almost immediately, leaning over the bar and smirking at me seductively. “What can I do for you, sweets?” she asked, looking me up and down under her large, overly done eyelashes.

“Uh, can you point me towards Night?” I asked, slightly unsure of how to ask for whoever I was even asking for.

“Oh damn, you’re one of his.” Her face fell a bit. “Yeah, he’s on the stage right now; center pole I think.”

One of his? What? Oh, screw it.

“Thanks,” I nodded, turning towards the stage and walking that way. I still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what to expect, other than the fact that it was going to be a male dancer, obviously. But I think what I saw was the last thing I ever would have ever expected. ‘Night’ apparently meant ‘Mason’ in stripper language.

That’s what the bar tender meant by ‘one of his’. She was upset because I was there to see him, therefore meaning I'm gay. And shit, seeing him up there, doing what he was doing, really made me doubt whether or not I actually did like women at all. They way he twisted his body around that pole, the way his smooth brown hair fell around his shoulders as he moved, the way his…no, I'm not going to go there. He was so good at what he was doing that it took a while for it to sink in that it was actually him doing it.

That’s when I knew what he was talking about when he said that thing about Carson and him switching work days. Their boss didn’t care who is up on that pole as long as someone’s up there. That kind of pissed me off a bit at the thought of it. I could only imagine what kind of sleaze-ball boss they had and how much of a creep he probably was. And then there’s just the fact that they have to have this job, because I'm sure they don’t do this because they want to. The Mason I knew wouldn’t submit himself to this if he didn’t have to. I didn’t know about Carson because I hadn’t met him before, but my Mason wouldn’t ever do it if it wasn’t his only option. Since Mason and Carson are twins, I wouldn’t expect Carson would either. I don’t see why anybody would so this if they didn’t have to, let alone two seventeen year old boys.

I was starting to wonder when Ianto would call me to tell me that I could leave, because I really didn’t want to see very much more. I guess I didn’t really realize what time it was when I got there or how long I was actually standing there, because before I noticed it, there was what seemed like I shift change, or at least a set change. A lot of people around me started moving away from the stage and soon after that ‘Night’ was making his way off stage. There was no backstage, so the ‘dancers’ had to go through the crowd to get to what I guessed were their dressing rooms. I saw the first one leave and walk through the throng of people to a doorway guarded by a very threatening looking man. Mason walked off after that woman and I’d caught up to him even before I decide I wanted to confront him.

“Hey, Night!” I yelled out, touching my hand to his shoulder to get his attention.

“Look, I don’t do – oh my fuck,”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,”

“Can we talk somewhere else?” he asked, shifting his feet awkwardly as if he was uncomfortable standing there in only a tight fitting pair of underwear. It’s not as if I haven’t seen him nearly-naked before, though, so I didn’t exactly understand why he felt so weird in front of me.

“Whatever you’d like,” I said, adding on shrewdly, “Night.”

He cringed a bit at the bitterness in my voice, but led me to the doorway the intimidating man was in front of. He looked down and saw that it was Mason, so he stepped aside and let us through. Down a short corridor and to the right was a door that Mason opened to reveal a little room that seemed like a closet transformed sloppily into a dressing room. He flipped the light on and ushered me in. I took a seat on the tiny couch shoved in the room and watched as he hastily threw on a white wife beater tank top and a pair of black and red basketball shorts.

“I am so sorry you had to find out like this,” he sighed, taking a seat in the vanity chair, spinning it to face me.

“Why did I have to find out like this, Night?”

“I was afraid you’d be ashamed of me,”

“Well, Night, that’s just too bad,”

“Would you stop that?” he snapped, groaning exasperatedly.

“Stop what, Night?” I asked sassily, raising an eyebrow at him.

“That! Stop calling me Night!”

“Well, it’s your name, right? At least while you’re working here, at the ‘Peacock’s Nest’,”

“Do you think I don’t know that? I hate this place; I hate working here and I hate that name,”

“If you hate it so much then why do you still work here?” I asked incredulously.

“Because it’s the only job I can get!” he exclaimed, his eyes getting wide and looking at me as if I was an idiot. “You should know me, Gavin! I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to do it!”

“Good,” I sighed. “I was hoping that was the case.”

“Then why are you taunting me so much about this?”

“Because I am a bit ashamed of you, Mason. At the very least, I'm disappointed. I understand that this is the only job you can get, but why does it have to be so demeaning? Why couldn’t you be a waiter or something instead of a pole dancer?”

“There you go; you sound just like him! Jesus Christ, I'm sick of that term. And no, I couldn’t do anything else. Our boss is a creepy-ass douche and says that our bodies are too good to not be pole dancers,” he scowled, shaking his head at the thought.

“Who do I sound like?”

“Jason! He’s constantly on us about this job, constantly nagging us to quit, constantly bitching to us about it. And he never fucking fails to call it demeaning,”

“It’s because it is demeaning!”

“Again! Do you think I don’t know this?”

“I know you know it. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I hate seeing you do this because you have to!”

“Well I hate that I have to do it, so don’t feel so bad,”

“I can’t help it, Mason,”

“Why not?”

“Because I care for you. I care a whole hell of a lot and I don’t like you going through this. I just wished there is something I could do,”

“I know what you mean,” he sighed, standing up and walking over to me and sitting next to me. He placed his hand on my thigh and gently massaged it as he said, “I care a whole hell of a lot for you too, and I wouldn’t want to see you go through anything like this either. And I hate that you even had to see that.”

“Well, to be honest,” I started, chuckling as I moved on top of him, straddling him and laying my arms on his shoulders. “Seeing you up there was really, really hot,” I whispered, enunciating the second ‘really’ for an added effect.

“Oh was it?” he smirked, holding onto my hips.

“Mhm,” I nodded, smiling and lowering my head to his. Our lips met softly and I couldn’t help but envision Mason back up on that pole. However much I didn’t like that he did that, I loved what he did.