Club Le Boa

The club didn't look like much on the outside and most would skip over it if they didn't know of its existence. Only a sign in front flashed purple against an otherwise unadorned concrete wall, reading Le Boa in cursive font. Set in the center of the city, all around it sat bright neons, big clubs, and even darker alleys. Inside Le Boa though, people crowded into the small space. Lights lit it in a swath of soft color and the music stayed low, smokey to match the dancers that spun across the center front stage. The beat only changed for special performances and then the occupants would glue their eyes to the dancers.

All sorts of people came here. Men with heels and boas wrapped around their necks or feathers stuck to their eye corners, but also business men and teenagers. Despite the name, most of the customers were the tame sort and even women came around, lost or curious about the gay side of the world. They were all welcome.

Francis tied back his blonde waves as he waited for the customers to show. Early in the evening, they were just opening and the music and lights made the place look like a wonderland without the people. He wore prim clothes and a smile that suited his profession of bartender. His easy, flirtatious nature loosened the customers lips and he loved that most about his job.

"Good evening!" he called as the first people trickled in. He just loved to listen to people. And if some broken-hearted sob wanted to spend the night with him, even better.

He was walking down the streets, looking for a specific place. A coworker had mentioned to him a club that he should try out. Though the look on the man's face when he was telling him made him feel like he was being mocked for something. Whatever it was, he was able to ignore it.

His job was hard and while he should be respected for it, he seemed to always get the worst of it. You would think that people would have a bit more respect for a policeman, but no. At least not the calls he keeps getting called out for. Well, at least not most of them. Some were fine and were easy to handle. The ones he hated was when the person he was trying to help was blaming him for what was wrong.

So, Arthur decided that this weekend, he was going to relax and go to a club for once. Normally, he'd go to a regular bar. But, after getting thrown out of the last one, he needed something different.

He had dug through his closet for a pair of skinny jeans his brother had gotten him but hadn't worn yet and a plain black t-shirt. He pulled them on as well as some boots and headed out.

It took a while, but he eventually found the club and headed inside.

Before long, the club had a fair amount of people inside, mostly dancing. The others lounged on gaudy as hell couches set in the corners and more still crowded around the bar, drowning their misery or flirting with Francis. He flirted back with the same easy energy. The noise of the outside world drifted in for a second as the door opened and closed. A man with short blonde hair walked in alone. He looked a little plain perhaps, but sometimes that was interesting. Maybe there would be a story to hear and as a bartender, that was part of his job. A part that he liked very much.

Leaning far over the bar, Francis let loose one of his most charming smiles. Since the guy didn't seem to walk immediately for the dance floor or the bar, he invited him over. "Hello kind sir. Would you care for a martini or perhaps you're the whiskey type?" he amended after a second of thought. Definitely hard liquor. Francis could judge a person's favorite drink after all.

Arthur noticed the barman was talking to him and took a seat at the bar. Though he inwardly cringed when he heard him. 'Why did he have to be French?' he thought to himself. He wasn't sure he was going to like this club, but still decided to give it a chance.

"A pint of ale." he ordered. He didn't want to order anything to strong to start off with. The night was just beginning, after all. There was always time for that later.

Francis raised an eyebrow at the man's voice. "English then? I'll have that pint out in a minute. Please take a seat," he said, still with his smile. Although he wouldn't say it, an English accent was his biggest kink. He probably shouldn't care for something like that as much as he did, being born and raised in France, but he couldn't deny his love. After he finished off another drink, he set about pouring the ale and handed if off to the Englishman. "Here you are sir. Anything else I can get you? Perhaps my number?" he asked with a wink.

Arthur took the drink with a slight nod in thanks. He immediately took a big gulp of it as the barman kept talking. "Nothing at the moment. Though I'll let you know." he told him. There was no way he was going to take this man's number. Not that he was opposed to dating a man. But because he was a French Frog. But then again, he might be a bit biased being from England and all. All well. He knew the type this man was just from the way he immediately hit on him.

Francis sighed and twirled away. He expected as much, but that never stopped him from trying. The Englishman seemed stodgy, a little too uptight for this sort of place. Or maybe he should say this was the perfect sort of place for that kind of man so he'd learn to loosen up. The music was fun and the dancers were about to put on a performance. Right on cute, the lights lowered as the DJ switched the music to a very different sort of sound. Stage lights flashed on the center as rock music flared. A pale man dressed all in black with bunny ears on his head sauntered out to a pole set at the front of the stage. "Ah my other love that won't give me the time of day!" Francis moaned dramatically.

Arthur turned towards the stage, sipping his drink, when he heard the music change. He choked slightly on the drink when the man came out on stage and started coughing to clear his throat for a moment. He certainly wasn't expecting that. His eyes flickered to the barman when he heard him speak and rolled his eyes. His eyes went back to the man on stage, slightly curious about what was going to happen. Yet at the same time, not wanting to watch. He went to take another drink but stopped when he realized the glass was empty. Sighing quietly to himself he looked back towards the Frenchman. "Another pint." he ordered, still not quite ready for something stronger.

Francis didn't want to pull his eyes away from the dancer even though he'd seen the routine dozens of times before. Glancing over the stage every now and then, he poured another pint and leaned against the bar next to the Englishman to chat and watch the show. "Need any snacks? Don't want to be getting drunk too early in the night," he asked with his eyes still on the stage. It was...interesting to watch. Francis saw strippers dance more times than he could count, since long before he became a bartender. This one man was different though.

'Peter Rabbit' he called himself. No one knew his real name and the way he danced, not even that was normal. Rather than a sultry expression, he flung himself onto the pole like he was the coolest thing in the entire world. All confidence and fun, he looked like he didn't know he was wearing next to nothing and rather like he just loved having eyes on him. And strangely, it worked. He captivated the audience with his unusual charm so that he became the club's main attraction.

Arthur took his drink and shook his head. "Don't need any snacks. It will take a lot to get drunk off ale." He stated, eyes on the stage. It was an interesting performance for sure. But other than that, the guy himself wasn't very interesting to him. Just not his type from what he could tell. Not that he really had much of a type in the first place.

At the other end of the bar, two brothers sat. The two were obviously twins. The one with slightly longer hair was staring transfixed at the stage. His brother next to him wasn't even looking in that direction, drinking the shots before him and talking a mile a minute. He didn't even notice his brother had stopped listening to him.

The night wasn't shaping up to be much fun for Francis. Half the fun of seducing someone was the challenge of it, but he just kept getting brushed off and that wounded his pride. He stalked back to his job and checked on the others at the bar. After refilling a couple drinks, he came to the far end where two youngsters sat. Twins, cute, but too young for his tastes. Francis did have limits and he remembered carding the pair when they first came in and he still didn't quite believe the two were legal. Noting one of them watching the show with unblinking eyes, he waited for 'Peter Rabbit' to finish his act with an overdramatic flourish and for Antonio, the DJ to applaud him and share the stage name with the audience. Then Francis leaned in close and smiled.

"You like that don't you?"

The boy wasn't paying any attention to another other than what was going on on the stage. When the show ended, he was disappointed. But there was no way he was going to let his brother know that. He'd never hear the end of it. As he was turning back in his seat to focus on whatever it was his brother was talking about, he heard the barman speak suddenly and it startled him slightly, having not been expecting that.

"Are you talking to me?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Of course dear," Francis said with a smile. The boy spoke so quietly which was a surprise. He actually had to lean real close to hear him with the noise in the club. The boy next to him had a loud voice, but he supposed that didn't mean they both should. He jerked a thumb back to the stage where the bunny-eared dancer had just made his exit. "I wouldn't expect him to be the type of a gentle looking boy like you, but they do say opposites attract. Would you like to hear some advice from this master here?"

Matthew's eyes went from the barman and flickered to the stage before back to the other. He thought about it for a moment. He knew he would never have the confidence to go and talk to the man. He wasn't Alfred after all. He gave a tiny nod to the man. "Yes please." he told him, happy for any sort of advice that wouldn't come from his brother. He already knew what he would say; "Just go for it". Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

Francis had a very different sort of advice to say though. "If it's just eye candy, you can't go wrong," he said as his voice grew more serious. "That guy's sexy as hell and any of these patrons would pay to go home with him. But if you're interested in more than looking and maybe a little touch, you should just walk away. In all the years I've known him, I've never once seen that guy go home with someone." Whatever Peter Rabbit's deal was, even Francis, who considered himself a friend, didn't know. Honestly, he was beginning to suspect he wasn't gay in the first place and just liked dancing here. Or maybe he had a boyfriend back home. You never knew with these types. Most dancers would give it up for a little fun or cash on the side, but not that guy. Really, Francis was just looking out for this poor meek-looking kid.

"Oh... I see.. Thanks for the advice." He told him, feeling disheartened. He should have know better than to get his hopes up. He'd only been in one relationship before and that didn't last long after they agreed they'd be better off as friends. The guy still kept in touch, so that was nice. He grabbed the last shot sitting before him and his brother and downed it.

At the same moment, Arthur was finishing his drink. He thought for a moment before deciding he wanted something stronger than ale. He looked to see whether the barman was busy or not.

"Sorry kid. You'll find someone nice, I'm sure," Francis said with a pat to his hand before he left the twins to their drinking. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he liked to play cupid. Sometimes cupid had to warn young lovers of poor choices. With that thought in mind, he whirled back to the others seated at the bar, all charming smiles once more. He noted a few empty drinks, but hurried over to the Englishman first.

"And so we meet again! Are you feeling drunk yet? Or perhaps you're ready for something a little stronger," he added as he twirled one strand from his golden ponytail around a finger.

He nodded and turned back to his brother, who was still talking about whatever it was. When Alfred noticed they were out of drinks, they discussed what else they wanted to order.

"I'll talk a glass of whiskey" Arthur ordered. While the ale was good, he definitely was ready for something else. He needed something to help him get over the awful week he just had, after all.

"Sure thing," Francis smiled. He poured the shot and passed it over with a question. "I'm curious. Is there a particular un-fond instance you're drinking to tonight?" The Englishman was starting to look irritated, like he thought of something worth venting about. Even more than Francis usually wanted to listen to other people's stories, he very much wanted to hear the story of this plain, but still enchanting person.

"You're going to have to get me a lot more drunk if you want me to start talking about anything with you." Arthur told him. He took the shot and downed it quickly before motioning for another. He knew that if the barman wanted to talk, he'd have to watch how much he drank as he's been told he talks a lot about anything when drunk. Not a very good thing when you're trying to keep something secret.

Francis raised an eyebrow. No point in putting the bottle away if this guy would keep drinking like this. And he did so like the idea of getting someone drunk to learn all sorts of fun things from their loose mouth. After pouring another shot, he set the bottle down between them. "Want to just buy the whole bottle then?" he challenged. It seemed like this guy would respond well to challenges and therefore get drunk quicker.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the question. That sounded like a challenge. One he could win easily. Things like this is what he and his brothers normally do when they get together. Besides, it didn't matter if he did get drunk. He didn't have to work tomorrow unless called in for an emergency. So with that in mind he nodded. "Of course." he told him, a small smirk on his face.

Francis found himself grinning in response. Of course he was too classy to smirk, but he felt sure that he won. He charged the Englishman for the bottle and pushed it all the way in front of him. "I suppose you think you're a real great drinker. They all say that before they lose their pants in the middle of the dance floor." Been there, done that, got scolded for it. Francis supposed he should be careful because Ms Hedervary, the crazy woman who ran this club, would whip him if another 'incident' occurred. He could almost see her all in black leather with a whip and that should have been very sexy, but it wasn't. She always had it out for him since he tried to hit on her ex-husband, but there was no way Roderick was all straight...and those sexy pianist hands...

He shook his head to clear it. "Shall we play a game since you're so confident?"

Arthur took the bottle and took a drink straight out of it, not even bothering to pour out a shot. "What type of game did you have in mind?" he asked, confident he could win whatever it was. Though he wasn't sure why he was even accepting this. He didn't normally do things like this. Must be the alcohol getting to his head, he thought. There was no way he was actually enjoying talking to the French barman, right?

Francis already had something in mind, but he paused dramatically like he needed to think anyway. "Let's say we take turns asking each other questions. Every time I think you're lying, you get to pour me a shot," he grinned. "I really don't think you can do it. At some point. You're definitely going to lie to me." It may have been unethical and he'd get in trouble for accepting drinks while on duty, but he didn't even know this guy's name. If he needed to make it a game to learn some things, then so be it.