Chapter Text
Iwaizumi settled into his usual stool at the bar, taking off his jacket and holding it in his lap as the bartender slid him a glass of whiskey. Damn. If he's been here enough times for the bartender to know what he was going to order, he was probably coming here too much.
The low lights and smoky air were all too familiar. The club was lit up in shades of blue and purple, and from his place at the bar he could clearly see the stage and the cluster of tables and chairs around it without getting too close to the action.
At the moment there was a man on stage, spinning around the pole as other club patrons watched and occasionally tossed cash at him. Iwaizumi wasn't too interested in the dancer himself. He was good, sure, but he wasn't who he was here to see.
It had started about a month ago, when Noya, his friend from the gym, had invited him to his bachelor's party. He'd rented out the club's VIP room for the night. Iwaizumi hadn't been all too interested in the whole event, that is, until The King had come in.
He had captivated Iwaizumi instantly; all long legs and teasing smiles and glitter. Everything about him screamed "look at me," and Iwaizumi had no choice to obey.
Next thing he knew he found himself going back there. He didn't like being too close to the stage, mostly because he had absolutely no interest in any of the other dancers, and the one time one of them had to come over to grind on him had been enough for him to start sitting at the bar instead.
The dancer currently on the stage finished his set and collected bills from the stage, waving goodbye as he made his way down the stairs and headed towards the back where Iwaizumi figured he got ready.
He finished his glass of whiskey, staring at his phone to pass the time while he waited. The King usually didn't come on until a little later at night. He seemed to be the one they put on just when the energy in the club was starting to dip too much for comfort. He was so good at getting people worked up.
And then, a voice over the speakers. “Taking the main stage now, his royal highness, The King!”
Iwaizumi straightened as soon as the song started, his eyes glued to the man as he ascended the stairs to the center stage. Tonight he was wearing an unbelievably tiny pair of teal shorts with fishnet tights and black platform heeled boots. He must've bought those shoes recently, since Iwaizumi couldn't remember seeing them at all before this week. God, he had a problem.
The King grabbed the pole with one hand, walking slow circles around it as he seemed to absorb the feeling of the whole club's eyes on him. When he mounted the pole, there was something so effortless about the way he twirled around it, grabbing it tight with his hands and flipping upside down with his legs open in a split. He threw his head back, making eye contact with a patron and sending him a wink before he flipped back over, landing in front of the pole on the floor in a split. Iwaizumi bit his lip.
The audience loved him, as always. Iwaizumi had to force himself to relax his tight grip on his fresh glass when he saw The King hop down from the stage to grind on one of the club's regulars, that same cocky smile on his face.
Iwaizumi probably should have been worried that he was so possessive over this man. They've never even spoken, so why did it send anger rocketing through his bones every time a stranger reached out to tuck a bill into his underwear, which left little to the imagination.
Iwaizumi finished his second glass quicker, his eyes never leaving the captivating man on the stage. At one point, he could’ve sworn they'd locked eyes.
Then the song was over and the man was gone just as quickly as he'd appeared, in a flash of smoke and glitter. Iwaizumi turned towards the bar again.
The bartend flashed a soft smile as he refilled his glass.
"Thanks," Iwaizumi muttered.
"No problem," the man answered. He paused for a moment, pouring a drink for another patron. Then he glanced at Iwaizumi again. “You know, if you like him so much you can request a private room with him.”
Iwaizumi blinked. Was he that obvious? “Sorry?”
"You seem to like The King a lot. I don’t blame you. He’s really good. You should get a private dance from him.”
“Oh. No, I’m not interested.” In truth, Iwaizumi was very interested in getting closer to The King, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t think it would be wise for him to get any more attached to him than he already was. It was best for him to just keep his distance.
“Why do you come here so often then?”
"Hm?" Iwaizumi turned back to the bartender. “No reason, really. This is just a place for me to get a drink close to work."
"Oh? What do you do?" The bartender leaned on the counter, batting his lashes. Oh. Was he trying to flirt?
"Boring office job. Keeps food on the table." It wasn’t necessarily true. Most days Iwaizumi was a personal trainer at a nearby gym, but he also had a temp job at an office. Those two jobs together were enough to keep him in an apartment by himself without having to worry about roommates.
The man looked taken aback at Iwiazumi's obvious dismissal. “I see.”
Then the hairs on the back of Iwaizumi’s neck stood up straight as he felt someone’s presence directly behind him. The bartender looked past him, his eyes going wide for a moment before he turned back to his work, quietly mixing another drink.
"I've seen you here a lot," a smooth voice chirped.
Iwaizumi turned on the stool, coming face to face with the King himself. He recognized him instantly; those long legs and pale skin. A neck that looked so biteable. Shit.
"Y-Yeah," Iwaizumi stuttered.
The King laughed as he hopped up onto the stool next to Iwaizumi. That cocky laugh made Iwaizumi want to grind his face into the floor. Or maybe a mattress... He shook the thought away.
"You're cute," the King noted. He turned to the bartender, waving his hand wordlessly. Moments later a drink was placed in front of him. He gulped it down, a couple of droplets dripping down his chin.
Iwaizumi's eyes followed the drops, watching them travel down the smooth lines of his neck and the sharpness of his collarbones, making trails of glitter where they went. He wanted to follow it with his tongue, maybe take it lower still...
"Ah." The King set the now empty glass on the bar, grinning. "Refreshing."
"Shouldn't you be working?" Iwaizumi asked, glad to have recovered at least some of his cool.
"Who says I'm not working now?" the King asked with a smirk. "I've seen you, y'know. You act like you're so subtle hiding all the way over here, but I've seen the way you look at me. I've seen how you only really pay attention when I'm the one on stage."
"Oh." Iwaizumi had really hoped that this man hadn't noticed him.
"It's okay. I have that effect on people." He laughed like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. "But I am curious. Why do you try to hide from me? Why only watch from a distance?"
The King waited, clearly expecting an answer. Iwaizumi was having trouble paying attention to what he was saying when his shiny teal shorts looked like they'd been painted onto him and there was a fleck of glitter stuck to his lashes on one eye.
"Oh. You look a little starstruck." He faked a pout, which looked too good on those velvet lips. "Is that it? Are you shy?"
"No!" Iwaizumi answered in a rush.
The King’s eyes widened a little. He looked caught off guard for the first time tonight.
What was Iwaizumi supposed to tell him? That he looked just like a god up there on that stage and he didn't think a mere human like himself could even stand in his presence without getting burned?
The King was watching him, his smile growing a little more with every beat of silence between them. "I think you are shy," he decided. Then he slid off the stool, bouncing a little as he grabbed Iwaizumi's hand. "If you just needed me to make the first move, you should've said so!" he chirped, starting to drag Iwaizumi towards the stage.
"Where are we going?" Iwaizumi demanded, a little panicked as they neared the stage.
"Somewhere a little more private," The King said, throwing a playful wink over his shoulder.
Iwaizumi didn't protest as he was led down a short hall next to the stage and into a small room. He looked around as The King pulled a curtain to cover the doorway. The room was tiny but cozy, with mirrors on all of the walls and a single black couch across from the entrance. There was a speaker in one corner.
"Have a seat," The King said, gesturing to the couch. Iwaizumi sat. The room glitched and buffered behind Iwaizumi's eyes at the change in altitude. He was a little drunker than he thought he was.
“Mind if I choose the music?”
“Go ahead.”
The King hit a few buttons on the speaker and a song started. Then he turned, starting to saunter over to Iwazumi.
"So," he purred, his voice changing completely from the excited chirp it had been a second ago as he glided around behind Iwaizumi. "What should I call you?"
"Iwaizumi," Iwaizumi breathed as The King's fingers trailed over the top of his shoulder.
"Iwaizumi?"
"Hajime."
"Mm." He stood in front of Iwazumi, taking him in with earthy brown eyes that were almost predatory. "It's a nice name.” He leaned in close, his breath hot on Iwaizumi’s ear, his hands resting on the back of the couch on either side of Iwaizumi. “Hajime."
Iwaizumi's breaths stuttered. The way this man said his name was sinful. "You?"
The King stepped back, smirking, clearly aware of the effect he had on Iwaizumi. "Oikawa."
“Is that your real name?”
“Hm. Maybe.”
Iwaizumi scoffed, rolling his eyes. Oikawa really was something else.
“Coming out of your shell now, Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi was stunned for a moment by the nickname, but he let it slide.
“Hm. Maybe,” Iwaizumi parroted back at him.
Oikawa tilted his head back and laughed, exposing the smooth lines of his throat. “I like you,” he hummed.
Oikawa tuned back in to the music, slowly sinking to his knees in front of Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi found himself opening his legs slightly without really meaning to, giving Oikawa room to settle between his knees. Oikawa hummed softly, running both hands over Iwaizumi’s thighs and staring up at him, then slowly rose back up, leaning forward so the tip of his nose brushed its way up Iwaizumi’s chest.
“Enjoying yourself, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked as he planted his knees on either side of Iwaizumi’s lap. Oikawa’s legs were long enough that he could hold that position without the two touching, but Iwazumi could still feel the heat radiating off his body. He moved his hips to the beat, smiling at the way Iwaizumi’s eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his body. There’s no way a human should be able to move like that.
Iwaizumi clenched his fists tightly to keep from grabbing Oikawa’s hips. No matter how much he wanted to, the club had a clear rule against touching the dancers without their express permission.
“Not at all,” he teased, glancing up at his face.
“Tch.” Oikawa reached for Iwazumi’s hands, taking them and placing them deliberately on his bare waist. His skin was hot and a little sweaty, but still impossibly soft. “How about now?”
“Okay. Maybe a little.”
“Mm hm.” Oikawa’s body moved with the music under Iwaizumi’s hands, hypnotizing him. “Your hands feel so strong, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purred into his ear. “I love it.”
Iwaizumi hummed. The way Oikawa was moving combined with his silky voice pouring into his ears and his tight skin under his hands was making Iwaizumi’s body start to thrum with heat. His pants were getting tighter.
Oikawa chose just that moment to actually settle his weight on Iwaizumi’s lap. He hissed softly, the new pressure on his dick making him see stars for a second.
Oikawa’s eyes widened before he grinned. “Oh? Iwa-chan, did I get you hard?”
Iwaizumi didn’t get a chance to answer because Oikawa was actively grinding his ass down on him and he was afraid of how his voice would come out.
Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi’s hands again, this time pushing them down a little to grip his hips, his thumb sliding easily into the small crease that formed between Oikawa’s thighs and stomach. His fingertips dug into the dancer’s ass. Oikawa placed his own hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, his fingers skimming over the tops of them, subtly admiring how strong and broad they were.
Then he leaned forward, biting Iwaizumi’s earlobe.
Iwaizumi gasped involuntarily. He hated how easily Oikawa was taking control. If he could have it his way, he’d have Oikawa bound to his bed so he could put the cocky bastard in his place. Oikawa would be the one flustered and gasping.
Oikawa rolled his ass down and nipped at Iwaizumi’s neck. His lips followed the line of his jaw, leaving small kisses and bites as he went. He paused just before Iwaizumi’s lips, leaning back a little to search his face. Whatever Oikawa was looking for he found, and he grinned, then leaned in towards Iwaizumi’s mouth. Closer. Closer. Closer.
Then the song ended, leaving the two in silence except for Iwaizumi’s heavy breaths.
Oikawa was gone as soon as he’d come, his body disappearing from Iwaizumi’s and leaving him feeling cold.
“Five thousand yen.”
Iwaizumi blinked at Oikawa’s outstretched hand. “What?”
Oikawa rolled his eyes, opening and closing his hand expectantly. “For the dance, Iwa-chan. Five thousand yen.”
Now the nickname didn’t feel as endearing. It felt more like Oikawa was just using it to make Iwaizumi think he actually liked him. “I didn’t ask for this dance. You just dragged me back here,” Iwaizumi pointed out.
Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms. “I can’t work for free. My manager will get so mad at me if I come out of here without any money.”
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, getting out of the chair and heading for the door.
“Wait!” Oikawa stepped in front of him. Iwaizumi looked up into his eyes. Those damn platforms made him a whole head taller than Iwaizumi. “Please, Iwa-chan. I’m sorry I tricked you, but I really can’t leave here empty handed.”
Iwaizumi stared at him hard for a moment, thinking. He’d thought he could get away with watching Oikawa from afar, but after this he knew he needed more of him. He didn’t like to be the type to take advantage of being in a position of power, but this was a golden opportunity. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and dug out the money, holding it out to Oikawa.
Oikawa’s face split into a grin as he reached for it, but it fell quickly as Iwaizumi pulled it away at the last second, clicking his tongue.
“Come on,” Oikawa whined, pouting. “Don’t tease me.”
“One condition,” Iwaizumi said. “Go on a date with me.”
Oikawa blinked down at him. Iwaizumi didn’t breathe. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so surprised. You’re the one who asked.”
“I... Right. Okay.”
Oikawa raised an eyebrow, his hand still out. “Okay. Cash please.”
Iwaizumi handed it over, and Oikawa tucked it in the hem of his shorts with a grin. “So when should we… I’m free on weekends.”
Oikawa’s teeth dug into his bottom lip. “I work the most on weekends.”
“Oh. Yeah that makes sense.”
“Here, give me your phone,” Oikawa said. “I’ll give you my number, and we can figure this out when I’m not on the clock.”
Iwaizumi complied, watching Oikawa’s long fingers tap at the screen before he handed it back. “Alright well, I’ll see you on our date, Iwa-chan.”
“See you on our date.”
Then Oikawa was gone, leaving Iwaizumi standing flustered and alone.