Chapter Text
This wasn’t cheating.
Even if it felt like it was, down in the deepest part of his soul, he knew, in some irrational yet rationalizing part of his brain, that it wasn’t cheating.
He wasn’t married. At least not yet. So it wasn’t cheating.
It wasn’t his own money that he was spending, so it wasn’t cheating.
He didn’t even really want to be here, and he wasn’t looking at the dancers, so it wasn’t cheating.
Right?
Kenyuu still felt like shit.
But really, what was new? He consistently felt like shit right now. Every morning. Every night. Every waking moment, really.
He knew, somewhere deep in his heart, that it was just the nerves. That the fear of a wedding was looming over him heavily, even if he didn’t have to do anything. His fiancee was in charge of everything, a positive bridezilla even though Kenyuu had already taken a step back and had let him do what he wanted. Kenyuu found that a bit strange about himself. He had always pictured being much more involved with a wedding than he had been. But, his boyfriend seemed satisfied, only sending him pictures at this point of the flowers… the cake… the decorations…
God, it was all too much.
Kenyuu loved him. He swore it up and down and back and forth and left and right and all of the directions one could swear to something to, but even so, every time he thought of getting married, he felt so very heavy.
It wasn’t even as if he was afraid of the concept of marriage. He had always viewed it as a positive thing. The final commitment of two people who loved each other more than anything. His parents were still married, as were his boyfriend’s. His fiance’s.
He had proposed and still sometimes it felt hard to even say fiance these days.
But their parents. Their parents were still married. In happy marriages as well. There was nothing that convinced him that the idea of marriage was a trap. That he shouldn’t do it. They were in their mid twenties after all, and had been dating since the last year of high school. That was the right time to get married. They had shown their love and dedication to each other so many times, their commitment to their relationship unmatched, and yet…
Pressing his glass to his lips, the cold liquid quickly sliding down his throat made him shiver. He didn’t drink often, but Eita and Tabito had insisted. One night wouldn’t fuck up his skin, as he complained it might. One night, a few drinks, wouldn’t look too badly on him. There were no paparazzi allowed in the club either, so no one would see the model Kenyuu Yukimiya making a fool of himself a couple of months before his wedding. So one drink. Just one.
Or two.
Or three.
Just to shake off the cold feet, his friends said.
You’ll feel better in the morning if you get a lap dance from a hot guy, said Eita, once they had had enough of his woes when they all went out for dinner a couple of weeks earlier. Tabito nodded his head, somewhat put off by the idea, but agreed to the scheme so long as his own husband agreed to let him go (Hyoma only laughed and said to knock his socks off, apparently, but he would be sleeping on the couch if he smelled like some other man’s cologne when he got home).
You’ll feel better if you talk to your fiance about what’s bothering you, said Tabito, not denying Eita’s ideas for a half baked bachelor party, but still urging caution.
You’ll feel better by stuffing bills down the front of a dancer’s g-string, Eita retorted, devolving the conversation into crude words and cruder scenarios that Kenyuu simply blocked out until he agreed to go. Eita wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Tabito was disappointed when Kenyuu told him there was nothing to talk about.
Because there wasn’t. Not really. It wasn’t as if his boyfriend had done anything wrong. They were busy, and maybe there was a spark of something missing in their relationship due to their opposite schedules that had them away from their home more often than they were together. Kenyuu with his photoshoots, both domestic and overseas. His fiance with his own work that took him out of the home… It made sense that things were fizzling… but maybe… a wedding was all they needed to get things back on the right track.
Kenyuu had always looked forward to their wedding night after all… and the honeymoon to follow… A few nights away in a resort with a swim up pool that led to their back door and a bed so big that they wouldn’t have to leave it for their whole trip if they really wanted to… It would be the perfect refresh and time away that reminded them of their commitment and how much they loved each other, and that there was nothing wrong despite them being together since they were 17 and right now could be described as the inevitable seven year itch that he was warned about.
Of course, they didn’t marry at 17 and he wasn’t sure if that only applied to those who were already married, but even so, at 25 and 24 it all felt the same as it did had they been married for those 7 years of their relationship…
Ah well… he wanted to push through, as this relationship was really all he had ever known. His boyfriend… now fiance… It was terrifying to imagine being with someone else. Leaving this relationship. And maybe that was where the cold feet came from.
Maybe he should talk to him…
“Hey, hey, that cutie is back on stage again…” Eita elbowed his side, boney and rough, aggressively grabbing his attention and yanking him out of his rumination. Eita pressed a stack of bills into his hand, and Karasu sighed, leaning back into his seat as Kenyuu’s eyes sparkled.
The only dancer that had caught his attention all night.
It was dumb, because he knew nothing could,or would, happen. He was a client at this man’s place of work, and yet…
This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. Maybe, because he had been in a committed relationship since before he had ever had the chance to go to these places. Eita was probably a regular at this establishment, his regularity apparent by the way he talked about the dancers and the prices and the drinks. Not one to be picky at all, he came on Ladies Night, Gentleman’s Night, whenever he found a spare moment. Tabito joined him during college, before he met his husband, and obviously before they got married.
He couldn’t help but be a bit bitter, even if he had turned down his friends when they offered to throw him a bachelor’s party. The one they put together for Tabito was thoughtful and classy and he didn’t even seem remotely resistant to getting married. It was what he wanted to do, and he never once seemed to regret his choice.
Kenyuu didn’t regret his choice. That’s what he told himself at least. But the gnawing feeling at the back of his brain that reminded him that he still had time to get out…
Well. Let’s ignore that for now.
Now, his eyes were locked onto the little dancer that walked around the stage as if he was angry. Kenyuu had yet to see him smile once, but even so, he seemed at home on the stage. Eita whispered into his ear that this dancer was the tease, seemingly bored to be there. He never went fully nude, and the prices he set for his private dances were extraordinarily high, likely to deter creeps from asking for him that couldn’t afford his time.
He avoided the grabbing hands at the edge of the stage, refusing to let the crowd touch him. Kenyuu couldn’t do so from the table that they had taken up along the wall, a single condition of his that he had set before they walked in the door. He didn’t want to be called out or harassed by any of the dancers, wedged between his two friends in the slightly sticky booth, so sitting along the wall in the darkness was just his speed.
But even so, the dancer seemed to be able to find him, walking around the stage on tiptoes as if he was wearing heels, and maybe he had been earlier in the night before they came in. The club was already full, men of all ages clamoring for the attention of dancers who wouldn’t give them the time of day if they didn’t have the cash to back it up. Kenyuu entered the club with his friends feeling sorry for the dancers, wishing that they didn’t have to sell their bodies just to make a living wage. But now, he almost felt more sorry for the men with empty pockets, dragging their feet as they left, heads hung low in shame as they reminded themselves that none of this meant anything. The dancers didn’t love them. The dancers didn’t even care if they wasted all of their money just to see a bit of skin in real life.
And yet, Kenyuu couldn’t help but feel a bit special as the sharp, pointed blue eyes of the little dancer found his once again in the crowd.
It was stupid… he knew that… but there was no harm in just looking. He relaxed his hand, the one gripping the bills that Eita had given to him earlier, dropping the cash on the table before tugging at the top of his shirt, suddenly feeling incredibly warm as the dancer rolled his hips, not breaking eye contact with Kenyuu once. It was getting late, and the dances were slowly becoming less and less subtle, each dancer losing more and more of their clothes, grinding their bare bodies on the pole in the center of the stage. Kenyuu’s mouth felt dry, a flash of his fiance’s face in his mind for just a second as he polished off the glass of bottom shelf whiskey that he had resorted to simply so his friends wouldn’t have to pay as much for drinks.
And then it was over once again. The dancer (he missed his stage name once again) ran his hands through his raven dark curls, his little chest heaving as he reached down to grab the sticky, damp bills that littered the stage. At some point during the dance, he had shed his shirt, fair skin practically reflective in the harsh stage lighting. Kenyuu hadn’t noticed it before, but a shiny silver belly ring swayed as he gave one last sarcastic wave to the crowd, giving the middle finger to someone close to the stage who must have made a grab at him or said something crude. Looking over his shoulder once last time, he blew a kiss to the audience, eyes seeming to lock with Kenyuu’s one last time.
Which was incredibly naive, of course. The dancers were supposed to make him, and every other man with money in the establishment feel special. Maybe he had been tasked with breaking Kenyuu, who had barely looked up from his phone all night, much less paid attention to the dancers as they walked past, propositioning customers for personal dances.
He knew he wasn’t special, and the club would probably prefer that he leave considering they weren’t making much money off of them. There was 0 chance that the dancer noticed him, much less wanted him, and the fact that he kept looking in his direction was probably just a fluke.
It was still a shame that that was the dancer’s last performance of the night.
“Hey, Kenny, you wanna get a dance from your fave stripper now that you’ve seen them all?”
Eita, once again, knocking him out of his thoughts. He squirmed in his seat, really just wanting to leave and go home. He knew tonight his boyfriend would be back at the house, coming in after a late flight, and he didn’t want to miss him or clue him into what he had been doing. His fiance… well he wouldn’t be happy, even if Kenyuu hadn’t actually done anything or spent his own money. The guilt gnawed at him, but the idea that Eita had perked him up enough that his friends noticed.
“He’s only been paying attention to that one that was wearing the blue sequin top,” Karasu mumbled as he swirled his drink around his cup, mostly watered down and gross at this point, but the ice still clinked against the sides. He grimaced as the next dancer came out, and seemed like he was just as ready to leave as Kenyuu was. Kenyuu didn’t blame him. He had worked hard for the relationship he had, and being here probably did feel like cheating to him.
All while Kenyuu shifted in his seat again, sitting up a bit straighter as his friends talked around him.
This had all been to cheer him up. Clear his mind while the stress of the wedding ate him alive. A nice dinner. A night at a strip club. A pretty blue eyed dancer walking to his table to retrieve him after Eita and Tabito paid his price.
“Someone decided to stop being a wallflower?”
The dancer appeared before him like an apparition, ethereal and ghostly, and only this up close could Kenyuu see the glitter that was stuck to his shoulders and chest. He was short, a fact Kenyuu could tell up on stage, but sitting this close to where he stood, he seemed so unreal. On stage he was a presence… untouchable… unattainable… but now he was so close that Kenyuu can touch him… could touch him. Was he expected to touch him?
The dancer held out a hand, waiting patiently with a frown on his face, as if he had been inconvenienced and not just paid hundreds of dollars for a dance. Kenyuu lifted himself from his seat, ignoring the way his friends hooted and hollered as he walked away, wrist held loosely in the dancer’s hand. He tried to ignore them, but it was hard, even as the club seemed to grind to a halt as the dancer walked him into the VIP “room” (really, just a space behind an opaque black velvet curtain with a couple of couches and a set of speakers). It was vacant, and the dancer pulled the curtains closed as Kenyuu walked inside, taking in the lack of scenery as the dancer approached him once again, slipping Kenyuu’s phone from his own pocket.
Kenyuu was too shocked to move, the dancer holding it up for him to unlock, before scrolling to his music app and clicking his tongue.
“Not much selection, big guy. Not into music, or not into club music?” The dancer asked, his voice quiet, slightly raspy as if he hadn’t used it all day. Which was possible. He hadn’t seen the dancer being approached by any of the other patrons, which was fine. Somehow, it made Kenyuu feel slightly better about the situation, as if he was doing something good for the dancer by being here with him. Helping him earn money. Something.
God he sounded like an ass.
The dancer didn’t need him.
Selecting a song, something smooth and sensual and completely unfamiliar, the dancer attached it to the speakers sitting beside the couch before starting a timer. 30 minutes.
Without a word, the dancer approached him, placing a hand in the center of his chest. It wasn’t a move that would normally grab Kenyuu’s attention, but the dancer’s demeanor was so different from the rhythm of the song that it shocked him into awareness, stumbling over his feet as the dancer walked him backwards until his calves hit the couch.
“Don’t waste your friend's money now…” The dancer whispered, pressing on his chest to encourage him to sit. Kenyuu had no choice, the dancer was in his space now, pressing his chest against him, blue eyes staring up at him with an accusatory stare. Don’t waste my time either.
As soon as his ass hit the squeaky pleather couch, wiped clean time and time again from messy clients and sultry dancers, the dancer was on him, crawling into his lap and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. Kenyuu felt his heart racing, the movements of the man in his lap feeling less like a dance and more like a desperate attempt to get him undressed. The dancer paused in time with the music, pulling back, staring at him with those icy eyes, and Kenyuu barely remembered the worries he had while he was sitting at the table with his friends.
If the dancer was unable to see him before, and the locked eyes across the club were all in his head, the dancer surely saw him now, along with the shameful tent in his pants that came from less than five minutes of their time together.
“Should I call you anything, or you just gonna be quiet the whole time?” The dancer asked, soft voice not belying the fact that this was all an act put on just for his pleasure. A well choreographed actor, every movement he made was so deliberate, giving Kenyuu a better view of his lithe, toned body. He was built like an athlete, toned arms and legs fully exposed, though the tiny little shorts held together on the sides by strings didn’t do much to hide the rest of his figure. His fiance would never wear something like that for him.
Inhaling deeply, Kenyuu closed his eyes, leaning back and away from the dancer.
“I’m sorry, I think I need a minute.”
If the dancer was confused, he didn’t let it out. He reached across Kenyuu’s body where his phone lay, still hooked up to the speaker, pausing the timer and god did he smell divine. Kenyuu shook the thought out of his head and the soft smell of musk and something fruity, maybe blueberries or raspberries, out of his nose as the dancer retreated, slipping out of his lap and onto the couch next to him.
“Can you put your shirt back on too?” Kenyuu asked, throat thick with guilt as he rubbed his forehead, removing his glasses briefly to squeeze the bridge of his nose. He felt the dancer move away again before rejoining him on the couch, hopefully more dressed. Kenyuu risked it, and risked more thoughts that were sinful and unholy, cracking open his eyes and replacing his glasses before looking over at the dancer again.
“Okay?” He asked, legs crossed in front of him as he leaned forward, shimmery blue top now covering at least most of his torso. His stomach was still out, along with the dangling belly ring.
“Did that hurt?” Kenyuu nodded towards his stomach before reaching for his phone, restarting the timer and ending the music. The dancer watched him carefully as Kenyuu sat the phone face up between them, the time left for his dance ticking away with every moment.
“What? This?” The dancer, likely irritated but never showing it, reached for his stomach, plucking the belly button ring right out of, or off of, his skin, before clipping it back into place. “It’s fake. So what do you want? Just to sit here for 30 minutes to pretend like you got a dance so your friends will be off your back?”
“Something like that. What’s your name?” Kenyuu asked, rolling into his next thought before he could stop himself. He just wanted to know. “You can call me Kenyuu.”
“Woah, I was just asking if you wanted me to call you Daddy or something, not your government name,” the dancer rolled his eyes, but he seemed to be amused, a small grin quirking up the corner of his mouth. “And, why should I give you my name? I don’t even have a stage name, the DJ just makes one up for me each time I work cuz I don’t care and don’t want to pick.”
Kenyuu felt his shoulders slump a bit, but carried on regardless, hoping to drag these 30 minutes out so he didn’t have to return to the questions of his friends sooner than he had to.
“It’s Jin, though. Common enough that you can’t be a creep with that. And I don’t know. I’ve never seen you here before, so maybe you aren’t a creep,” the dancer rambled on… no. Jin rambled on… Kenyuu brightened, sitting up a bit straighter, feeling blessed and graced by the knowledge. Jin watched him carefully, keeping that distance between them. “So… the sleazy one with green in his hair. He said this was your bachelor party?”
Kenyuu laughed, bitter and pathetic, and Jin raised his eyebrows, knowing there was more to this story.
“Or, maybe not. Bad break up?” Jin leaned forward, setting his elbow on his knee as he leaned in, getting ready to hear the story. “If you don’t want a dance, you can just waste your friend’s money by telling me a story.”
Kenyuu nodded, but to what he wasn’t sure. Talking to this pretty creature was so much better than being so close to him that he couldn’t see. At least this way, he could admire the things about him he already enjoyed. A cute face… soft curly hair… strong toned legs…
“I was supposed to get married soon…” Kenyuu mumbled, being honest with himself and with this stranger for the first time.
“Supposed to?”
“I don’t want to marry him,” Kenyuu admitted, shrugging his shoulders and Jin leaned in closer, blue eyes gone wide and even prettier than before at the gossip.
“So they brought you here to cheer you up of all places?”
“Something like that.”
“Well then what, Kenyuu, would cheer you up, my paying customer?”
A million ideas flashed through his mind, bringing him back to here and now at the end of his contemplation. This… this isn’t where he wanted to be. Wasn’t where he should be. There had been nothing official… he never even voiced the idea that he might not want to get married to his boyfriend… but that was a matter that would have to be saved for another day. A braver day.
He could lie to this stranger about the facts and tell him all the truths about his feelings that had been voiced to no one, and no one would be the wiser. But for a short 20 minutes more, he could be the focus of the prettiest man he had ever met, and for now, that would have to be enough.
“Can we just… talk?”
“Talk? Social recluse? No friends besides the two weirdos out there?” Jin waited for a response before uncrossing his legs, leaning back onto his hands as he threw his feet over Kenyuu’s lap. “Sure, we can talk. For the next… 19 and a half minutes.”