Strippers VS Religion

Mars debated on not answering the phone, on conveniently forgetting about his arrangement with Priestly. Instead, he stood up, checked to make sure his head was in a low ponytail. He checked his wifebeater and his jeans before he opened the door. He shouldn't have been so self conscious, but he was.

"Uhm...hello," he said lamely.

"Hello, babe," said Priestly, tossing the feather boa over his shoulder and winking. The red lipstick made his smile seem that much brighter as he stood there in full drag, a red sequined dress and matching hooker heels. Even his nails were painted red, and he wore a long blond wig.

"I decided to give you a bit of a show today, hmm?" he teased.

The only thing Mars could possibly think to do was to slam the door in his face. So he did. But then he realized that people outside in the apartment hall might hear and wonder what was going on and they'd see that godawful man dressed in that godawful dress, and so he opened the door again and he shoved him inside and he slammed the door a second time, locking it too. He was thankful, so thankful, that Rhode wasn't home and wouldn't be home for many hours because if he came home then he would have to simply commit suicide then and there.

Mars stared at Priestly for a very long time, trying his best to think about things besides how very good he looked in a dress, and how pretty he was. Instead, he decided to think about what would happen if Rhode were to come home and how embarrassed he would feel and how awful it would be.

"...I'm going to die," he muttered, absolutely horrified at the turn of events. What had he really expected to happen, though? This man was insane and he knew it. A bible spouting stripper? Of course he would do something like this. Mars had been joking.

Well.

Mars had been MOSTLY joking.

And now, worst of all, even as he tried to feel shame and embarrassment, all he really felt was arousal.

He chuckled.

"My, what a strange start to our date--you sleep on a bed or the couch, kid? I know how it is with roomies."

He wrapped an arm around Mars's shoulders.

"I want a place where we can sit and get comfortable."

"Date?!" he nearly shouted. "This isn't...This isn't a date! You...you're dress...you're wearing...this isn't a date! You're not a woman! You aren't....you're breaking the law!"

Mars was pretty sure Priestly wasn't breaking the law.

"I...I..." he frowned, feeling defeated. "...my bedroom is over there," he mumbled, gesturing to an open door.

"Oooh, a whole room," said Priestly excitedly, walking in and sitting on the bed. "So, am I here to give you a show?"

Mars followed, shutting the door and locking it. Just in case Rhode came home for lunch or something.

"No!" he insisted. "I refuse to talk to you while you're wearing that...thing. That dress that...make up. Take it off!"

He paused.

"..wait, no...augh, I don't know! Why...are you doing this to me?! I just wanted...to talk..."

"I thought I was here to talk to," he said, standing up. "But if you want me to take it off, I can, sure."

He shrugged the feather boa off of his shoulders and threw it onto Mars's.

"Get comfy, babe, I'll help you out."

Mars caught the boa, only to throw it down after he realized he had touched it. He didn't know where that thing had been.

"No!" he replied, covering his eyes. "I didn't mean it, don't take it off! Just...don't!"

He laughed, nudging Mars with his elbow.

"Why, would you rather strip for me? Go on, I'll help you with your technique--remember, shake your hips, strut your stuff." He ran his manicured fingers through Mars's hair. "You're certainly a cute thing, so you have an advantage."

"I'm not stooping to your level!" he huffed angrily, slapping his and away. "Keep your gross hands away from me!"

He backed over to the corner of the room, where his desk and laptop sat.

Priestly sat down on the bed, crossing his legs. His short skirt hiked up his thighs, revealing more of his body.

"Anyway, I told you I was pretty, didn't I? Now, what is it you want to talk about? I'm all ears, sugar."

"You're not pretty!" he lied, crossing his arms. "You're just...pull your skirt down!" he insisted, his face turning redder. "It's...just do it!"

"Why? I shaved my legs just for you," he cooed, winking. "Do you not like them...?"

He felt his face turn redder as he thought about it.

"...please don't make fun of me..." he mumbled as he sat down in the computer chair and crossed his legs.

"I won't make fun of you if you're interested. I think you're cute, remember?" He beamed.

He covered his eyes.

"No! It's...not fair!" he groaned. "You're...stupid and I shouldn't...want this."

He chuckled.

"If you want it so bad, come over here--you can sit on my lap."

"No!" he cried. "I can't! You...you're not fair! I'm...I'm straight."

He bit his lip, standing up. "You're trying to condemn me to hell."

"No, just trying to set you free," he said, winking. "Damn, that sounded good, huh? Maybe I could become a preacher!" He laughed, covering his mouth with his fingers.

"I'm just joking, of course--but I'm serious about helping you. I don't think God hates humans for something he made them to do--making love is normal, right? So is liking people."

"But I don't like you," he insisted, walking in a circle. "I...I hate you, I despise you! For...everything! You...you're horrible! You make me...want things I shouldn't.

"Don't lie to me, you don't know anything about religion. You never even went to college."

He sighed again.

"...I'm confused."

He snorted. "Are you telling me you didn't know who God or Jesus were until you went to college? Of course I know about religion--doesn't everybody? It's all around you, even when you're growing up. Why don't I know what I'm talking abotu just as much as you do?"

"I've been studying it my whole life!" he insisted. "I'm about to earn a degree in order to teach others! I've done extensive, extensive studies on every single thing in the bible, every single thing relating to Jesus Christ you could possibly think of! I know more about the greatest man in history than I know about myself!

"That's like saying you know how to do surgery because people around you have surgery and you read a few manuals! I've been taught by some of the greatest professors ever, and I know more than you could ever hope to know! I know everything!

"...And I certainly know I'm going to hell."

"If you're already going to hell, you'd better have all the gay debauchery you can then, huh?" he said thoughtfully, pursing his lips. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Mars stared at him.

"Are you trying to make it even worse than it already is?! I'm having a religious discussion with a gay cross-dressing stripper in my apartment!"