His idiot brothers had taken him to a strip club a few weeks back. It was a for his birthday, to get him laid after prison. But that’s not what he did. He met you, just watched. Entranced by you, of course you were used to it. But his eyes didn’t wander. They stayed on yours.

It had unsettled you in the moment. You were used to being just some perverts eye candy for a few hours.

But Pope? He came back, watched for you. Learned what nights you worked. What times, it wasn’t creepy. Not to him. It was like he was any other regular. Blowing double the cash most men did. So you didn’t stop it.

Of course when he found you after a shift one night you were terrified, seconds from calling security. But Pope had eased you. Telling you he meant no hard as he stumbled over his words asking for your number. It was cute- totally awkward- but cute.

so screw it, you gave it to him. Went out together, a coffee shop date. Nothing special. You enjoyed it, he saw you without all the glitter and lipstick. You saw him in something that wasn’t club lights.

So sure, coffee shop has turned to running errands, he’d offered a ride. Who were you to say no? Errands turned to a bar, bar turned to.. you guessed it. His flat

and that was where you woke up. Draped over him, sunlight peeking through the curtains. He’d woken up shortly after you.

“Hm..” He rubbed his eyes. “oh, hi.” he just looked at you. That awkward stare you’d grown used to.