When their college dorms are shut down, Aiden and his best friend, Bobby, find themselves without a roof over their heads. Rather than face leaving school, they take up temporary residence in their local gay-friendly bar, FUBAR, along with a handful of other down-on-their-luck students.

Faced with the possibility of being expelled if they don't secure permanent housing, the boys hatch a plot to put on a strip show to earn the cash necessary to bring a donated house up to code, and establish themselves as a fraternity on campus.

In the midst of preparing for the big show, things get complicated when Aiden realizes his feelings for Bobby go deeper than mere friendship-with-benefits.

Originally published in Kegs and Dorms.

The houselights dimmed, multicolored spotlights swirling across the curtains, the murmur of the crowd swiftly growing into hoots and catcalls. Aiden Barrows stood alone in the wings, dressed in his favorite costume--the nerd--waiting for his introduction. He wore plaid, floodwater pants that stopped several inches short of his ankles, black socks, sneakers, green suspenders, a striped, button down shirt complete with pocket protector, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses taped at the bridge of the nose. His hair was a carefully arranged mess of black, spiky hanks.

The audience liked the costume because it was comical, but what they paid to see was the body beneath it. Honed to perfection, thanks to a combination of good genes and a regular work-out schedule, there wasn't an ounce of fat to spare on Aiden's six-foot frame.

Aiden loved the nerd costume for a different reason. The audience didn't know it, but it reflected the real him. He wasn't really the self-assured exhibitionist everyone thought, although he wasn't shy by any stretch of the imagination. He stripped only because it was the one job he found that would more than pay for tuition, his dorm room, books, lab fees, and food, and still leave him the study time necessary to maintain his 4.0.

The work was easy, the money was great, and he couldn't beat the hours. The club was a drive, nearly twenty miles away in West Caulfield, but the money made the commute worth it. He worked two days a week, Fridays and Saturdays, four hours each night, and never cleared less than six hundred for the weekend. It left the rest of his week wide open for school. It was perfect.

The first thunderous beats of The Stroke by Billy Squier echoed in the room, his cue. The screams of the women in the audience increased exponentially when he walked onstage, his nose stuck in a book. The extra large printing on the cover read, "Algorithms for Love" in black letters. He reached center stage and paused, ostensibly too engrossed in his reading material to notice the couple of hundred women screaming and vying for his attention.

Suddenly, Aiden picked his head up, cocking it as if he heard something. He pretended to notice the audience and did a double take, his mouth dropping open. First he looked at the audience, then the book, then the audience, then the book again. A slow smile creased his cheeks as he tossed the book over his shoulder and faced the screaming women. By the time Billy Squier began singing "Stroke me, stroke me," Aiden had discarded his glasses, pocket protector, suspenders, shoes and socks, and was unbuttoning his shirt.

His hips thrust in time to the beat of the music as he peeled it off, revealing broad shoulders, a finely sculpted chest, and an abdomen rippling with muscle. Naked from the waist up, he walked down the narrow runway, playing to the women who lined it. He licked his lips, wiggled his ass, and played with his nipples, working the crowd into a barely controlled frenzy.