Chapter Text
His fingers trailed against the crisscrossing lines of the outfit he’d chosen, and he drew in a short breath, worrying at the inside of his cheek with his teeth, nerves on edge.
Fridays were big days for the club, the entire nightlife district becoming even more vibrant and bright as people started their weekends early. Felix had always been busy on Fridays, barely enough time in between his stage sets, private room requests, and lap dances to breathe.
The bass of the club tracks were already audible from the dressing room. The other dancers milled around, getting ready, some of the faster ones already having filtered out to entertain customers on the floor.
He toyed with the last parts of his makeup, careful to avoid smearing his eyeshadow as he pressed on his false lashes.
Some of the other male dancers preferred the larger, beefier look, but Felix had figured that the more delicate, feminine look suited him better. And, well, taking his tips into consideration, it was clear that the nightly crowd agreed. Plus, even if the makeup wasn’t enough to make him completely unrecognizable, he couldn’t help but appreciate the extra layer of armor it seemed to give him. Even if that extra layer was as thin and breakable as tissue paper.
The rush of cheering from outside the dressing room doors forced a small laugh from him, one of the other dancers snorting. “Looks like Cherry’s onstage,” she said, sing-song-y and light, adjusting her thong, and Felix openly laughed. From just how loud the sounds from the floor were, it was obvious that tonight would be packed.
Thank goodness, honestly, more than two slow days in a row made him nervous even if he wasn’t in the red on debt repayments anymore.
He blinked at his reflection in the mirror, fluttering his lashes, satisfied when they stayed in place, before winking at the other dancer, her giving him a little flutter of her own lashes in return. “I’m headin’ out,” he said, fussing with his extensions as she gave him a nod, preoccupied with readying herself.
There were a few exits from the dressing room, and he used the one that brought dancers to the main floor as opposed to the actual stage.
The sudden, harsh shift in lighting made him squint and he played it off, grinning at a few customers in the tipping chairs who eyed him, their gaze straying away from the stage. Another smile crossed his face, and he waved his hands in a small shooing motion, trying to encourage them to look back at the dancer on stage, the woman giving him a small wink when she noticed.
She worked hard, he knew she did, and there were more than enough unoccupied customers to go talk to instead of taking the ones that she’d drawn the attention of.
He forced his back straighter, confident, eyes scanning the space, and it didn’t take too long for him to zero in on the party of businessmen near the back, a handful of them glancing in his direction every few moments.
Bingo.
It didn’t take long for him to get there, carefully darting between single customers milling around the club floor. When he drew near enough, he shot the table a smile, unable to keep himself from feeling pleased at the way it flustered a few of them.
They were the sort of clientele the club catered to the best, after all. Closeted middle-aged men who had more than enough money to spend on guys half their age, or who just got off on watching people perform for them as best as they could.
Felix had seen enough starched-white button-down shirts in his time here to know what was up.
“Hi,” he said, voice sweet, letting his fingers stray down towards his side, tugging lightly at the straps of his outfit. It was almost too easy to pretend to correct an error in his clothes and draw their hungry eyes there. He’d gotten good at openers in his time here. “You’re guys’s table is a pretty big one-“ he winked, continuing, “-any plans in particular for tonight?”
The man who spoke seemed nice enough, pleasant, with a slightly unkempt scruff of beard and the beginnings of crows feet at the corners of his eyes. “It’s our first time here, actually.” Really? Felix couldn’t tell. “It’s okay to ask for more… private dances, right?” Ah, a man who knew the way to his heart.
Felix grinned, bright, letting his eyes crinkle, moving his hand up to grab the edge of their booth, his fingers pressing into the faux-leather. “You all want me to be your first time? I’d be flattered.”
Hook, line, and sinker. Felix loved his job.
୨♡୧
It wasn’t that bad.
Really, it wasn’t that bad.
There were a lot of worse things that Hyunjin could be doing, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t gone to the club before. This anxiety over visiting the club was new and he knew it was because of the Felix situation.
Even simply knowing his alias (an English one too, Hyunjin could almost hear Chan’s bright laugh in the back of his mind) was enough to have his heart hammering in his chest.
He was painfully charmed and utterly fucked.
From across the room, Changbin gave him a look and Hyunjin knew that it was because he’d been unable to focus for the better part of an hour. He could imagine that Changbin would be even more unsympathetic if he knew the reason why he was unable to pay attention.
The way Changbin’s eyes had narrowed was intimidating and if Hyunjin hadn’t known him (or had been shorter) he’d be concerned.
As it stood, he just wanted to get ready for his club visit tonight.
“Sorry,” he apologized, feeling bad for lying but keeping the act up regardless. “I think I have a small cold, focusing’s a little hard.” Changbin’s brow raised, his face otherwise unmoving, and Hyunjin shifted in his seat, awkward.
The other man eventually took pity on him, though, sighing and waving his hand in the air, dismissive. “Alright, alright, get some rest. We’ll run through these lines tomorrow, yeah?” And Hyunjin nodded, grateful, thanking him and trying to ignore the way he was still being scrutinized.
Changbin was far too observant for his own good, Hyunjin was going to have to start working for these club visits.
He slipped from the room, eyes darting back to watch the way Changbin pulled his headphones back on, and let out a small, relieved breath.
It didn’t take him too long to get back to his room, the space more or less abandoned as everyone used their Friday night as wisely as possible. He was grateful, almost embarrassingly so, when he had the freedom to pick his outfit for the night.
He’d always gone with something nondescript, close to what he’d normally wear but not enough to draw that much attention to himself. He opted for darker colors today, comfortable, a tremor running through his fingers as he ran his belt through the loops of his pants, drawing it tight around his hips.
He debated on whether or not brushing a thin layer of eyeshadow on his top lid would be too much, internally scolding himself because yes, obviously, wearing makeup would be too much.
Tying his hair into a small ponytail was the last thing he did, almost an afterthought, as he grabbed his wallet and headed out.
୨♡୧
The nightlife district was always busy near the weekends, Hyunjin able to blend into the crowd without too much difficulty. The bright neon street signs marring most of his features coupled with his face mask was enough to keep him from being recognized.
Not to mention the fact that it was fucking freezing. He didn’t exactly stand out among the crowd of people slipping scarves up to their noses and pulling their jackets in tight as they bar crawled regardless of the weather.
The deep red of the florescent sign advertising the club made his eyes burn, but the way he could feel the anxiety bleed out of him made it worth it.
By now the bouncer knew who he was, giving him a short nod before moving to let him inside, Hyunjin already pulling his wallet from his coat pocket. The thud of the bass was immediate, forcing his throat tight and his chest heavy, and a thin breath left him.
He couldn’t see the stage from the doorway, whoever designed the place having put thought into not wanting anyone to get a free look. The front room was dark, barely lit up by thin blue LED lights running across the ceiling. The man standing behind the small counter gave him a terribly amused look, Hyunjin having to resist the urge to squirm, before typing something into the computer system.
“Cash, right?” There was something humiliating about being a regular anywhere, let alone a strip club.
Hyunjin nodded, fussing with the zipper on his wallet, pulling out enough bills to cover the club fee. The fact that he had the price memorized was also humiliating. The man’s eyes were intense behind the counter, they always were, his eyeliner nearly lethal. It always felt as if he were being picked apart as he handed the cash over.
A few more presses of the computer system, the man’s eyes just barely darting down, relying more on muscle memory than anything else, and then he was nodded in, the gesture easy.
He let out a breath, chest tight, and started inside.
A dark hallway was what connected the foyer and the real part of the club and Hyunjin rapidly came to the realization that Felix hadn’t lied when he said Fridays were busy.
It was loud, the combination of the crowd cheering and the club music was enough to make his head spin. The floor was packed, a short look being enough for him to realize that the up-front tipping chairs were entirely full, the booths were booked by larger parties, and a large portion of the bar stools had been claimed by singles.
He swallowed, throat tight, carefully averting his eyes from the pair on stage, a woman and a man, both on opposite sides of it and clearly catering to different crowds.
He remembered why, exactly, he’d mostly avoided coming on Fridays and weekends up until this point.
“Hey, baby,” a smooth voice said, feminine and with just a hint of a rasp to it, and he sighed, relieved at the fact that at the very least he wouldn’t be standing around by himself and looking entirely clueless. He shifted, turning to look at the dancer that spoke to him, carefully keeping his eyes above chest-height because she’d opted for an, uh, sheer lingerie top.
“Hi,” he said, throat dry, and she grinned.
“You’re here for Felix, right?” and he blinked, the woman giving him another grin, edging on smug as she spoke. “I saw you two actually talk a few nights ago. Figured if you came back then you’d want to see him.”
He’d forgotten that the other strippers probably saw the entire conversation happen.
It took him a second to speak, flustered. “Yeah, I am. Is he, uh, around at all?” It took a concerted effort to keep from cringing at the way he sounded.
She didn’t seem too bothered, though, tilting her head in the direction of another part of the club. He hadn’t been down there, not yet, the large double doors enough of a deterrent that he didn’t want to satisfy any curiosity he may have had. “He’s booked in the Champagne room for a private dance, he’ll be out soon.” She gave him a wink, teasing, Hyunjin struggling to parse out what exactly she meant by everything, the language confusing him more than anything else. “I’ll be in there soon for a woman’s 30th birthday party. I got booked right after, so I know ‘bout when he’ll be out.”
The most he could do was nod. “There are private dance rooms here?” He’d assumed that all the personal dances were just done on the floor in the open, and with the way she snorted, losing her composure for more than a brief second, he’d been a bit stupid to think so.
“Baby, the private rooms are where most of the dancers here make the most of their money.”
He supposed that he should be thankful that she had taken amusement in his cluelessness instead of taking offense.
“He’s got a group in there right now but he’ll be out soon for you to give him some attention,” and she looked almost painfully amused. Hyunjin fought the urge to fidget. “Time is money though, babe, I’ve gotta warm the girls up before I dance for ‘em. You’re on your own ’til he gets out.”
And then he was alone, the dancer leaving him adrift with a little wave and smile as she left to go entertain her party.
Hyunjin tried, desperately, to not look as awkward as he felt.
୨♡୧
If he had to pick, Felix’s favorite patrons would probably be the ones that were content to stare at and fawn over him while they poured out their entire life stories. They were easy enough, and tended to be friends with the same sort of people.
So, really, straddling one of the shier businessmen while his friend rambled on about whatever was going on in their little accounting office was more a highlight of the night than anything else.
He was more than willing to forgive a few gropes and squeezes if it came with a generous bill slid in between the straps of his clothing.
But, even if he liked the group, they’d only paid for forty minutes, and Felix had to start winding down. He smiled, toying with the edges of the man’s starched collar, adjusting it, letting his voice fall to a low hum as he spoke. “I think our time’s up,” the groans from the group that resulted from that were almost sweet, but he didn’t allow himself be swayed.
He slid off the man’s lap, the golden-yellow faux leather of the booth creaking slightly as the low champagne colored lights caught on his body glitter.
“So, if we want to see you again…?” One of the less meek businessmen began, and Felix grinned, leaning forward just enough for the man to be able to tuck another bill into the strap on his thigh without straining for it.
“Just ask for Felix,” he winked, rote, used to the routine, biting back a laugh at the way a few of the men had to work to pronounce the foreign name. It was a charm point, he’d been told, a handful of other dancers confessing that they wished they’d thought of it during their weekly bitch sessions, and then almost smacking him for having the audacity to be so stupid when he confessed it was actually his real name.
It didn’t take long for them to clear out of the room, Felix just needing to lightly urge them, any resistance crumpling when he batted his eyelashes and smiled.
Easy. Always easy.
The door to the private room opened, almost exploding with the noise from the main floor, and he could see a few of the men grimace at the sudden noise.
He just laughed, trailing behind them, sending a grateful look towards the staff member that flitted inside in order to sanitize the room before the next party used it.
“Go enjoy the show,” he said, forcing his voice light, letting his hands stray down to his outfit in order to grab the bills that threatened to slip out from behind the straps. The group was well-mannered enough to leave him at that, filtering out across the floor and moving towards the packed stage.
He let out a heavy breath, just giving himself the chance to breathe, a small ”Felix?” startling him out of his moment.
Any ounce of irritation that would’ve filled him immediately evaporated at the sight of Ferret looking almost painfully awkward where he hovered by the bar.
He had to resist the urge to fucking squeal.
Somehow he’d completely forgotten the fact that he’d told Ferret to show up on Friday.
Honestly he’d kind of assumed that, well, he just wouldn’t do it. For him to actually show up felt like someone had shot adrenaline directly into his veins.
He grinned, moving through the crowd, giving Ferret a small wave as he poked his way over. Almost absentmindedly, he plucked the bills from his outfit, gathering them up so he’d be able to shove them into his locker as fast as possible (there was a distinct lack of pockets on his outfit and holding onto a wad of cash while giving Ferret a lap dance or whatever the fuck he wanted was so incredibly tacky Felix felt nauseated at the mere idea).
“Hey!” He said, voice bright, unable to hide his glee, some part of him deeply satisfied at the way he could see the tips of Ferret’s ears grow pink. “It’s nice to see you, Ferret. How’s the night been treating you?” Felix always liked when he didn’t have to fake politeness.
The way the man seemed to melt at the question made Felix want to kick his feet and squeal. How cute.
“It’s a little busy in here,” the answer was stilted, awkward, but he could hear the smile in his voice. Ferret paused, brief, and Felix waited, patient. “You guys do private dances?” And Felix’s brain damn near exploded.
“Yeah,” he said, feeling his grin widen to the point where it made his cheeks hurt. “We’ve got little private rooms that people and parties can rent out for some more one-on-one time.” He shifted a little, moving on his feet, energized. “Were you thinking about using one?” They had more than a few rooms, Felix already getting ahead of himself and imagining the way Ferret’s rings would reflect the deep blue of the Bacardi room lights.
A nod, Felix able to see Ferret’s excitement even if he insisted on hiding half his face.
“Alright, I’ll get it figured out. About how long did you want it for?”
And Ferret fucking shrugged, “for as long as you’re willing.”
He, he couldn’t tell if the man was just rich or inexperienced.
Probably both.
“You’re lucky I’m nice,” Felix’s voice rasped and he had to clear his throat before continuing. His hands strayed to Ferret’s shoulders, plucking off a stray hair he saw there and smoothing away wrinkles that didn’t really exist. “A lot of dancers would hear that and take you for all you’re worth.”
Felix could see that he was smiling underneath the mask, with the way his eyes crinkled up. “Okay, just two hours to start off with then. Is that alright?”
The average personal dance booking for solos in this club was fifteen minutes long.
“That’s perfect,” he said, trying his damndest to hide the faint wobble in his voice. It would take him up until he was supposed to go on stage for his first set and he could fathom a guess that Ferret wouldn’t want to miss that. “Let me just run to the dressing room really quick, alright? I’ve got to make sure my makeup looks good for you.”
Another crinkly-eyed smile, Felix giving Ferret’s shoulders a bracing squeeze, ignoring the way he felt almost lightheaded.
He’d never walked faster to the dressing room in his career.
He slammed the door open a little harder than intended, an ”oh my fucking God,” leaving him before he had the chance to stop it. Some of the dancers milling around in there gave him amused looks as he ran his ass over to his locker, shoving the bills through the metal slits instead of wasting the few seconds it would take to actually open it.
“What’s wrong Lixie?” A disinterested voice asked, the other dancer working on his makeup, Felix having completely forgotten his name in his stress and unable to feel bad about it. “Don’t tell me there’s a creep out there, I heard security’s been busy tonight.”
“I just got booked for a two-fucking-hour long private dance.” He whisper-screamed, the highlighter palette slipping out of the other man’s hand and clattering against the counter as he scrambled for it.
“You’re kidding-“ Felix shook his head, letting his hysteria out before he needed to act normal. He looked over at the massive mirror, grabbing the blotting papers the man handed him with hands that trembled. He brought one up to his face, pressing it against the small amount of oil that’d settled beneath his eyes as the night had gone on. “He know’s you’re not selling hole, right?”
He barked out a laugh, feeling lighter as his face grew cleaner. “Nah, he’s not like that.” Felix could tell, he could just tell. “Besides, we’ve had this conversation before. I’d be the top, here, I’m not selling hole.”
“Everyday he just wakes up and decides to lie!” The guy yelled, loud, earning more than a few laughs from the other dancers and Felix rolled his eyes.
His blood pressure felt blessedly lower than it’d been before, and when he tossed out the used blotting paper, he felt far calmer than he had when he’d ran in here. “Don’t die!” rang through the dressing room as he slipped back out.
A new mantra, honestly. Felix was going to need it.
୨♡୧
The Bacardi room attendant, God bless him, had asked Felix to repeat the reservation amount four times before Ferret intervened to confirm that yes, he actually did want to spend an obscene amount of money tonight, why do you ask?
They earned a very pointed ”no sex in there” comment in their direction when the attendant told Ferret the price and Ferret confirmed, again, that yes he did want to empty his wallet tonight. Finally, after an almost painful amount of scrutiny, they were allowed to slip inside the room. Felix opened the door for him, letting Ferret in first.
It was a nice space, well maintained, booth seats and mirrors circling the entire room as the LED lights glowed a soft blue.
He could hear Ferret swallow at the sight of the pole (static, thankfully) in the middle of the room.
The door closed behind them, and Felix grinned, shifting over to where they had an old iPhone 7 sitting, attached to the room’s aux cord, connecting it to the sound system. He tried to put Ferret at ease, able to see the stress in the tight lines of his shoulders. “Any music requests? We’ve got free rein in here.”
“I’m fine with anything,” agreeable, but Felix could see the way the stress seemed to almost melt out of him at the question.
He hoped, a little desperately, that any remaining awkward energy would fade with time.
Putting on one of the standard club playlists, shuffling it just for fun, Felix relaxed when a familiar track began to play. “How do you wanna sit?” He asked, curious, unable to keep himself from grinning again at the sight of Ferret’s ears pinking once more.
“Just… next to me?” God, he really was too fucking cute.
He gestured for him to lead the way, settling down next to him when Ferret picked his spot. “So,” he said, not even wanting to give the mood a chance to get awkward. “Tell me about your day. Anything fun happen at that job you mentioned?”
The way he lit up at the question was just cute.
Felix cursed internally at how easy he was to please.
“We started working on a new project,” ah, a project-oriented job? Felix shifted, leaning against the back of the booth, angling himself towards Ferret, interested. “I, uh, struggled a little to focus today because of-“ a lazy hand gesture, and Felix grinned. “-but I’m really excited to start working on it for real.
“It’s a team project?” He was good enough at reading through the lines at this point, Ferret looking a little startled for half a second before nodding, relaxing back into the seat. “We’ve got a lot of businessmen and women that come in, I figured you probably fit into that crowd.” Okay maybe he was exaggerating a bit. Ferret was different than most of the salaried crowd that came in.
Felix’s bet was on something in the entertainment industry. He felt a little too fashionable to be normal. Maybe a producer or a talent scout? Either that or just someone with rich parents and a day job more for fun than anything else.
It was honestly probably the rich parents.
Ferret indulged him, talking quietly about his day, his voice sweet and soft, breath stuttering in his chest whenever Felix toyed with the long sleeves of his outfit.
He was charming, terribly so, and time passed quickly as Ferret filled the room with his voice, spurred on by Felix’s gentle encouragement.
He hoped, genuinely, that Ferret was really going to become a regular.
Maybe it was stupid of him to be so sentimental.
୨♡୧
Changbin was willing to overlook a lot.
Really, he was.
He was extremely generous, thank you.
But Hyunjin acting strange during the day coupled with the whole “showing back up at 3am with increasing frequency while looking uncomfortably sweaty in clothes that Changbin knew were too expensive to sweat freely in” situation was just too much.
At least Jisung was equally aware of the emerging situation (see? He was generous enough to label it as emerging even though it was already impacting his work) and more than willing to brainstorm reasons as to why this could be happening with him.
“Strip club!” Jisung yelled, voice explosive in the quiet of their apartment that only came with the early morning hours of the day.
“Be serious!” Changbin spat, exasperated, Jisung laughing from where he sat next to him, messing with his phone as they tried to wrack their brains as to what exactly Hyunjin could be doing. Jisung opened his mouth and Changbin glared, trying to make it as venomous as feasibly possible. “If the next words out of your mouth are “massage parlor” I’m going to hit you.”
Jisung closed his mouth.
Changbin practiced his breathing exercises.
It was a moment before Jisung spoke again, more serious this time. “Okay, to be honest, I have no clue, but if he’s being this weird then I think it’s completely fair if we up the ante and follow him to wherever the fuck it is he’s going. It’s getting kinda concerning, like actually.” What a complete and total invasion of privacy. Changbin was glad that Jisung was giving serious suggestions now.
“I agree,” and Jisung grinned, conspiratorial, opening his mouth to answer, only to be cut off by the distant sound of the front door opening.
Changbin blinked.
No fucking way.
Jisung looked almost gleeful, shifting to inch towards the bedroom door, carefully easing the door open and peeking his head out in a way that had Changbin trying, desperately, to muffle his laughter.
Whatever he’d seen had been enough, Jisung slipping back in and punching the air, mouthing a cheer before loudly whispering. “He just came back and he looks like he’s got shell-shock.”
Changbin checked his phone.
2:45am. Interesting. No wonder Hyunjin couldn’t fucking focus.
“Next time he leaves, we’re following.” He said, final, and Jisung looked a little too thrilled at the chance to catch Hyunjin in… whatever act this was.
Some small part of Changbin felt bad but, well, maybe it would end up just being a pleasant surprise after all.
For Hyunjin’s sake, Changbin hoped it was.