Gerards pov
Fuck what anyone says about strippers not being able to love. I know it's not true. I know because I'm falling for him. And I only ever fall guys I know can love...
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Franks pov
“So, gee, what are we… like friends, boyfriends or what?”
I ask him, looking up at him through my long lashes, hoping he’ll confirm the latter.
The smirk on his lips falters for a second, turning into a slight frown, like he’s contemplating it, but only for a few seconds until his face lights up again and his smile brightens to a huge grin. He flicks his eyes up to meet mine, sparkling with excitement. He bites down on his bottom lip, a blush filtering over his now rosy cheeks. I feel a bubble of excitement and hope inside me. He’s easily the most attractive person I’ve ever seen, and it proves a challenge to keep myself composed as he nods with a shy smile and finishes, “I think it’s safe to say we’re dating.”

When I saw him watching me the other night, I knew he was interested in me in particular, you could tell just by the way he couldn’t even take his eyes off me to blink. Of course, that isn’t exactly unusual for a stripper, so many horny guys looking for some pleasure and something to jerk off to. But, it’s not very often I’m the one undressing them, even if it’s just inside my head. The moment I saw Gerard sitting in the crowd, I felt a sudden new burst of adrenaline, I just wanted to impress him so much. He’s fucking gorgeous, the way he was leant forwards and ran a hand through his shoulder-length red hair, stared at me in awe and bit his lip softly… I couldn’t just let him go, the way he watched in admiration, lust and respect, and if I were to fuck anyone in the room, I’d defiantly choose him.

I really do love doing my job, I don’t understand why some people view it as derogatory to do as part of a living, after all it is just dancing around a pole, loosing a few items of clothing as I do so. It’s someone’s sport, hobby, and a way of expressing themselves.
It just makes me feel a bit dirty sometimes, not the dancing, but after. I don’t even want the quick couch fucks in a strangers house... okay, that’s not all true, it’s fucking amazing at the time it’s happening. But anyway, often enough I’d need a lift home or I’d need money for some smokes and I’d request the help of someone, and that would be my way of paying for it. People just assume because I’m a stripper I’m also a prostitute, which really isn’t my intension. But hey, if I need to show my gratitude, then that’s what I’ll do, like I said, it’s good while it lasts.

And another thing about people assuming that, they think I’m unable to love, so any relationship I’ve attempted they find out I’m a stripper and leave because they just assume I’m fucking random hoes behind their back. I’d never do that, ever. It might also have a few things to do with becoming brutal enemies with one under the name of Bert… but we won’t go into detail about that now. Let’s just say, he had very little trust in me, and I can claim guilty for things getting out of hand on my behalf.

When Gerard pushed me off him and told me ‘my body shouldn’t be used as a toy’, it was like someone had just lifted bricks off my shoulders. I was actually a bit disappointed, because I’d have more than happily fucked Gerard, but at the same time it felt amazing that someone actually has some decency towards strippers, because in all honesty, I’m a fucking hopeless romantic, as much as I try to cover that up.

Yes, a stripper who actually wants romance and not just sex.
Every night I just wish to be curled up with someone. I hate lying on the couch of the stranger's house after fucking, knowing I’ll be sent home in the morning. I just feel really fucking lonely sometimes, and I just wish that there was someone who’d want me for more than one fuck, but also cuddles and watching cheesy movies with, going on dates, sitting in a restaurant and eating a romantic meal with, as we link hands under the table, knowing we’d return home to lie in bed together, just holding each other close. I mean fucking too, of course.

But I want more than that. I want to finish a day of my evening job, doing what I love, knowing there’d be someone watching from the back of the room or behind the stage, admiring me for my talent and the passion I have towards it. Then we’d go home together, singing in the car with the windows rolled down, smoking and chanting lyrics to the songs we love at the top of our lungs, whilst still holding each others hands and every so often taking our eyes off the road to look at each other and realize how in love we are. I want to marry someone, one day. I want kids, I want a pet we can share and look after. I just really want to love someone, and have someone love me, for who I am, for them to trust me and care about my well being.

I know, who’d have thought, ‘the horny teenage stripper at the bar’ can love?

I’m suddenly brought back to my senses when I realize I’ve been in a trance. I shake the thoughts away and lean forwards so that his lips tickle my own, as I press mine against his. They’re warm and soft, better than the first time when we kissed. That was nice, but this actually has meaning behind it, well for me anyway. Maybe that is just because the first time, I was trying to comprehend what he was shouting at me, and maybe it was because I was trying to justify myself, and maybe it was because I was trying to shut him up because he was yelling. Maybe I’m just really desperate to actually feel something and every little detail matters to me. Maybe it’s because he’s really fucking attractive and he just confirmed we’re dating.

I don’t want to push things too far, like I said, I’m not here to whore around. I really want to work something out, and have a real relationship for once in my life. Like a real relationship. I feel excited just thinking about all the possibilities.

I pull away and smirk to myself, unable to contain the splitting grin, trying to spread across my face.

Notes

so sorry, it's really short, i know. i've been so busy, and i totally forgot i was going to London and to a wedding when i agreed to this date (well yesterday, it's late). Better late than never, aye? Apologies for spelling mistakes and grammatical errors, I'm currently in the toilets of a wedding reception trying to get this stupid internet to load, typing this up on my phone. (i was meant to leave my phone at home so i have to hide in here and tell my parents i'm just 'ill', and do it so they don't see me on it.)

anyway, again, really sorry, i'ts only really a filler bc i can't exactly remember what happened previously so i'm just going with what i can remember, i hope it's correct. if someone wants to change anything that's not right, you're more than welcome. i'd look back through it but the internet is so bad i don't have enough connection to look back at previous chapters,(i really hope this uploads now i stg)

-frerardcrap ≧◉◡◉≦