On a typical Friday evening, George usually chooses to curl up on the sofa with either a good book or a film, maybe even go out with his boyfriend to the cinema if he's feeling up to it, but besides that, George rarely leaves the flat, not really enjoying clubs or bars all that much.

He's reminded of exactly why that is the second he steps into the establishment he's been hovering around for about five minutes, a neon sign spelling out the word Menswear flashing brightly above the small building, which sounds like the name of a clothing store or some shit when in fact it's the exact opposite.

This is George's first time in a strip joint, and he honestly hopes it his last as well. George has to resist the urge to cover his ears as he makes his way to the booth his friends are already ensconced in once he's payed the cover fee, because it's loud in here, not to mention hot, and crowded, and just when George is debating on ducking back outside so he can smoke another cigarette and maybe give himself a chance to acclimate to this new environment change, John's head pops up over the back of his seat, his slender hand waving George over, erasing his chance of a momentary escape entirely.

George doesn't know why he's agreed to show up for this, besides the fact that it's John's bachelor party and his friend all but begged him to go, stating that as a groomsmen he had an obligation to, but still - this isn't George's scene, not at all, but at the time it had sounded more appealing them moping around his flat which is his usual night time activity as of late.

George refuses to think about that right now though, because he's here to have fun, not worry about why his boyfriend's been uncharacteristically absent the past few months. It's not like he doesn't have his suspicions, and deep down, George knows he's cheating, but he's still trying to convince himself that Kyle's actually at the office and not off with some other man.

Maybe that's why George decided to go out, sort of like an act of defiance that Kyle probably won't even notice since he's rarely at home. It's a step toward admitting his relationship is falling apart - a small one, but George has to start somewhere if he's ever going to break free from the iron grip Kyle somehow still has on him.

George should just leave him - even if he isn't actually cheating, he's not happy, and he hasn't been for quite a while if he's being honest with himself. He's tired of coming home to silence and crappy television reruns instead of his boyfriend, and the whispered apologies and promises to be better that fall from Kyle's suspiciously swollen lips when he is around aren't soothing the ache in George's heart as well as they used to.

"Here," John yells loudly to be heard over the pounding bass that's causing George's bone to vibrate under his skin, "you look like you need this." John pushes a drink into his lax palm and George takes it without asking what's in it, hoping that the alcohol will allow him to loosen up and banish all thoughts of Kyle from his mind for a few hours at least.

George sends John a grateful nod as he slips into the open seat next to him, forcing his face into a semblance of a smile that seems to satisfy John for the time being.

His friend isn't clueless about George's situation, but with his pending marriage to Ross drawing steadily nearer, George has refrained from dragging him down with updates on his dismal relationship, vicariously living through John's happiness while secretly praying that one day he'll find someone who loves him as much as Ross so obviously adores John.

The lights in the place begin to flicker then, briefly plunging the colorful room into a state of darkness before the stage is illuminated with a harsh pink glow, drawing everyone's attention to the small platform where George assumes that a performance is about to begin.

His friends lean back in their seats, their eyes trained on the curtain obscuring the dancers - strippers from view. Their shadowy forms are visible as they strike random poses that George thinks look a bit ridiculous, but by the cheers already erupting from the other tables, he's alone in that aspect.

George doesn't really know how he feels about this, because even though he has nothing against eyeballing a pretty boy on the street, this is different, and it makes him feel oddly filthy, but he's going to try and avoid spoiling the evening with his bad attitude, and at least this club doesn't do full nudity, that would be a bit too much for George to handle.

George sips on his drink idly as the first man appears. He's shirtless, but his bare chest is covered by a feathered boa that George doesn't find sexy at all. He quickly grows bored with the parade of boys, about ten in all George thinks, and just when he's tempted to pull out his phone discreetly, the music starts, the upbeat tempo startling him so much he almost knocks over John's cup which is resting close to his elbow.

George sighs loudly as the men begin to twist and writhe, the sound covered up entirely by the song pouring from the speakers. He's regretting this whole ordeal, and even though he knows he would be just as miserable at home, George still wishes he had faked an illness or something similar so he wouldn't have had to suffer through this.

George's eyes wander across the stage briefly, noticing the traditional poles scattered about. Some of the dancers immediately gravitate toward them, contorting their bodies around them in the cliché fashion that George had envisioned when John had said he wanted to go here for their night out.

It's barely two minutes into the set and George's head is already pounding, the flashing lights and overbearing beats not mixing well with very little sleep and the slight buzz he's starting to get. George has to force himself not to bury his face in his hands to block out the overwhelming stimuli, but he can't stop himself from checking his watch every few seconds, hoping that time will magically speed up even though it seems to be dragging out instead.

The men on stage are doing solo dances now, taking off the few articles of clothing they came out in, earning hoots and hollers from their rapt audience. George watches since he has nothing better to do, attempting to ignore the way one dancer's slicked-back hair reminds him of Kyle although it's not even the same color.

Then a new performer takes center stage, one that George hadn't noticed before during the initial reveal, and much to his surprise, George's boredom evaporates as soon as he sees the curly-haired man, his colorful tattoos and slender build snaring his attention so quickly that George is almost frightened by it.

His name is announced as he begins to sway from side to side, his hips gyrating and his arms skimming his sides, showing off the leather pants that seem to be glued to his body, but George misses it thanks to the rowdy bunch behind him who haven't stopped yelling, although he thinks it's something that starts with a 'M'.

The boy's moves are a bit more awkward than the others, less sexual maybe, and he completely ignores the long pole situated directly behind him for the time being, but George finds it appealing, endearing even. His hair continuously flops over his eyes as he throws himself around the small space, causing him to run his hands through it often, and George finds himself wondering what the wiry texture would feel like against his own skin.

George shakes his head roughly, trying to displace the unwanted images that are suddenly playing across his brain without his consent, because he did not come here to fantasy about another man - he's not a cheater, not like Kyle at all, and even if he doesn't plan to act on his attraction to this stripper, the fact that he's fantasizing about it still leaves George feeling dirty.

It doesn't help when the man begins shimmying out of his trousers, somehow getting the skin-tight material off without looking like an idiot, leaving him in nothing but a pair of hot pants that are borderline obscene.

George has to swallow heavily to displace the saliva gathering in his mouth, but it instantly floods back when the boy leans over in a seductive pose, pouting his lips out and fluttering his long eyelashes before turning away to let someone else take center stage.

George's blood continues to thrum through his veins long after the man's short solo, his visceral reaction to a complete stranger throwing his equilibrium out of balance and leaving him feeling unsteady and shaky, because George isn't usually like this, he's only attracted to people he knows decently well - hell, he and Kyle were friends for years before he began to develop romantic feelings for him, but apparently this boy is an exception to George's picky sense of taste.

"So what did you think?" John asks as soon as the show ends without another feature from the curly hair stripper, snapping George out of his head and back into reality so quickly he receives a painful case of mental whiplash.

"Um...it was interesting," George answers slowly, trying to pretend he's not searching for a mop of dark hair out of the corner of his eye. "Don't see how Ross is okay with you going out and ogling nearly naked men before your wedding though," George chuckles weakly, attempting to divert the attention away from himself for a short time.

"He knows I have eyes only for him, this is all in good fun," John proclaims, waving the waiter down once he's finished speaking so they can all order another round.

George is just starting to relax somewhere around his third or fourth drink, he's lost count now, but he knows whatever John keeps giving him is strong since he's well on his way to being drunk. His moment of complacency ends almost as soon as it begins though, because the dancers are beginning to make their way among the crowd, and of course the one headed their way is none other than the dark-haired man that had so rapidly captured George's interest.

George stares down at his hands in the hope that his lack of eye contact will cause the stripper to seek out a different table, but John's friends ruin that plan completely by calling the man over, some of them even pulling out money to entice the stripper in their direction.

George refuses to look up, too frightened that his reaction to another sighting of the dancer will be a clone of his first, but he betrays himself when the man starts to speak, his sultry tone which is obviously overexaggerated for their benefit dragging George's eyes to him against his will.

"Hey there, having fun?" the man asks, and George notices that he's back in the leather pants from earlier, the fabric clinging to his skinny legs in a way that shows off everything while still leaving something to the imagination.

George can't stop staring at the stripper now that he's started, and he's captivated by everything he sees. His gaze travels up his torso, examining the scattered ink gracing his belly, chest, and arms, but even his unmarked skin is fascinating to George. It seems to be shimmering under the flashing lights, and George belatedly realizes that he's got some sort of body glitter on, the soft sheen making him appear ethereal and otherworldly instead of gaudy.

George slowly makes his way to his face, which he can now tell is made up heavily. Red lipstick and blue eyeshadow outline his features which are already pretty enough on their own, and even though George never thought he would be into that sort of thing on men, he can't help but reconsider his stance on it as he continues to observe this boy like he's the eighth wonder of the world.

"Fuck yes," one of John's mates' slurs, George thinks his name is Brandon, but he isn't sure. "It's John's bachelor party, he needs a dance." He waves the bills he retrieved in John's direction, trying to get him to take them even when John holds his hands up in what is obviously a physical sign of denial.

"Oh no," John protests, a slight blush tinting his cheeks when the man smiles at him widely, displaying a set of slightly crooked teeth in the process, the simple gesture making George's own lips twitch even though it isn't meant for him. "I'm just here to watch, but thanks for the thought."

"Loyal, I like it," the man winks, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones briefly before he turns his attention to the rest of the booth. "Too bad though, you're very pretty." John's face turns so red that George is tempted to tease him for it, even though he's just affected by the dancer as his friend, if not more so, but he finds that his tongue has dried up in his mouth, and forming a coherent sentence is a task that seems to be impossible for him right now. "Anyone else up for a go...what about you handsome?" the stripper asks, and it isn't until he begins moving in George's direction that he realizes the man is talking to him, the others apparently losing interest quickly when another dancer takes the stage.

"Uh..." George's words continue to fail him, leaving him stammering moronically as the slender boy slinks his way closer toward him, his fingers brushing against George's shoulder which has George flinching away even though a part of him wants to push into the gentle touch. "I'm good - taken too actually, yeah...sorry."

"Well alright then," the man smirks, pausing for a few seconds before backing away slightly. "My name's Matty if any of you change your mind."

Matty - the name bounces about in George's head long after the boy leaves them, the good-natured ribbing he receives from John's mates for his embarrassing stuttering fading into white noise under the repeating mantra of the two-syllable word.

George can't help but to follow Matty's movements with his eyes as he makes his way to the next table, his muscles locking up as he watches Matty slip into another man's lap when he pats his knee invitingly. Matty smiles up at him before wrapping his arms around his neck, arching his spine in a manner that leaves George feeling like someone's grabbed his cock, knocking all of the air from his lungs so quickly George lets out an audible gasp.

"You alright mate?" John asks, shooting George a concerned look that has George blushing fiercely as he tears his gaze away from the stripper who's now grinding against the other man heavily.

"Yeah - uh, just tired," George shrugs, polishing off his drink quickly before slowly inching toward the edge of the booth. "I think I'm gonna call it a night, got work in the morning after all."

George prays that John won't call him out on his lie, even though he does have an article that's due soon, but luckily Mojo, the magazine he's employed by lets him do most of his writing at home, and it's rare that George has to go into the main office, usually only for interviews or the occasional team meeting, which John knows of course.

"Already?" John pouts, not seeming to remember that George's version of work is sitting on his couch with his laptop, his lips pulling down into a frown when George nods. "Alright then, text me when you get home yeah?"

"Course," George agrees, "don't have too much fun tonight."

"I'll be good," John grins, patting George fondly on the shoulder while he checks his pockets to make sure he's got everything. "Thanks for coming out."

"Couldn't miss your bachelor party now could I?" George chuckles, to which John tightens his grip for a moment in agreement before he releases George entirely. "I'll see you at the recital dinner then." George waves goodbye to John's friends before taking his leave, exiting the loud club and heading toward his flat which thankfully is only about a five-minute walk away.

George can't get Matty out of his head the entire time, snippets of his dancing flashing across his vision instead of the dark alleys and trash littered sidewalk, but George doesn't try to dispel them this time, because it's better than thinking of Kyle at least, and now that he's put some distance between him and the stripper, he feels more comfortable focusing on him when he isn't able to give in to the temptation to touch him.

Not that George would actually let it go that far, because as he keeps reminding himself, he's not a cheater, and he refuses to do what he's mostly convinced Kyle is participating in right now, his hypothesis solidifying when he comes home to an empty flat for the umpteenth time, sending John a quick message letting him know he made it back before shutting off his phone entirely.

Kyle did warn George that he was "working late", but it's just past one in the morning now, and even if lawyers maintain odd hours, George would bet his life on the fact that he's not still at the office. Even if he was, George knows he could bring home whatever paperwork he's got to finish like he used to a few months ago, but Kyle swears that he can't anymore, going on about how his clientele has been increasing since he won his past few cases and a load of other shit that George ends up tuning out five minutes into the debatably practiced spiel.

A part of George wants to confront Kyle, to just get it all out in the open so they can deal with it, or split up, or whatever, but his distaste of arguments and the fact that he hasn't yet found any physical proof of Kyle's indiscretions keeps his lips firmly glued together and his misgivings trapped inside, at least for now.

And although George's stomach churns uncomfortably when he strips down and crawls under the cold sheets, stretching out in the bed that's much too big for one person, George knows things could be worse. Maybe they will even right themselves again soon, and Kyle will transform back into the loving man that George initially fell for all those years ago.

So it is officially my birthday and I thought what better way to celebrate than by bringing more Matty/George gay times to the world so here's a new fic I shouldn't have started but oh well I'm in too deep to stop now.

This was supposed to be a oneshot based off of Somebody Else but it spiraled out of control very quickly. I wrote almost 10k words for it before realizing that it needed to be its own book because I had too many ideas that I wouldn't have been able to fit into a stand alone story.

This entire thing is dedicated to PotatoYoghurt since talking with them about rumors involving the Somebody Else music video is the reason this happened and if they hadn't encouraged me to write this I wouldn't have another fic to ruin my life with.

I don't expect this to be very long, maybe 10-15 chapters which will be shorter in length than my usual ones, but we all saw how that turned out last time with TIOSS so no promises.

Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I am writing it. I have got four chapters down already so once I sort through and edit them they should be up soon.

I'm a pain in women's clothes

xo starr