“Yes, but are you?”
Casey shrugs. “I’m okay. The music is good, and I’m with you.”
That makes me grin.
Emory fans his shirt. “The dancing is hot. Too hot. At least when I watch porn I’m alone in my room.” His face brightens to the intensity of molten lava. “Hi, I’m Emory, and I watch porn.”
I snort-laugh. “So do I.”
“I watched porn once, but you knew that,” Casey says in a matter-of-fact tone. He purses his lips. “Does it count as twice because I watched two scenes in the same sitting?”
“Once,” Emory and I say in unison, which makes us all laugh.
“I prefer the real thing, but porn is a great fantasy to jack off to,” I say.
“So good,” Emory whispers, sinking down in his chair. “I should have brought a longer coat.”
“You don’t have a longer coat,” Casey says.
Emory wipes his hand over his face. “I should have bought one. How am I going to walk to the bus station like this?” He squeaks and gestures to his crotch.
“There’s a taxi rank right outside,” I say.
“Thank god.”
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” I tell him.
“It’s true,” Casey says with a shrug.
“Neither of you is helping,” Emory hisses.
“I’ll help you all you want when we get back to your place,” I offer.
He fans himself with his hand and sinks down even more. “Oh. My. God. Have you seen his tattoo?” He gestures to the Cockney dancer, who has ‘Danger Zone’ and an arrow pointing towards his dick tattooed on his stomach above his G-string.
I whistle. “That’s hot.”
“It’s cocky,” Casey says.
“I bet it’s good for getting guys to pay for a full striptease,” I muse.
Emory whimpers.
“Why, Emory, are you thinking about paying for one?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“I could strip for you.” I waggle my eyebrows.
Emory glances at Casey. “I don’t want to leave you out.”
“Eh, you need Auggie tonight. He can give you relief.”
I’m surprised Emory doesn’t combust on the spot.
“You’ll know what we’re doing,” he says in a strangled voice. “Our walls are thin. You’ll be able to hear us.”
“I have good headphones,” Casey deadpans.
