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The red lights and cheers are always intoxicating, but not quite as exciting as the bills being thrown at him.
Taehyung jumps off of the sticky stage, holding his weight with an iron grip, and spreads his legs. He smiles as he throws his head back.
The stage is his favorite part of the night, always, but it’s not the most lucrative. He scoops up the bills that he wasn’t able to grab during his performance and struts off stage to go make some real money.
He passes Jungkook on his way back.
Jungkook is all dolled up in his best seller tonight, a laced corset and tight black leotard that hugs his junk just right. He adjusts the bunny ears on his head to make sure he looks all cute and innocent. They’re going to eat him up, just like they always do.
Taehyung gives Jungkook a wink and a slap on his ass as the next song starts and Jungkook puts on his perfectly trained pout to do his own performance.
If Jungkook’s sell is innocence, Taehyung’s sell is sin.
His cropped feather coat hangs over his bare chest, eyes smoked out immaculately. His tight, red shorts pull his ass up just right.
He makes more money walking the floor than he does on stage, but the real way to make money in a club?
The private rooms. He checks his phone clock as he fixes the bit of creased eyeshadow; he’s booked in fifteen minutes. One of the attendants or bouncers is setting up the room for him and getting his man for the next hour in place, but Taehyung is excited. He fidgets and watches the timer count down, and two minutes before call, he can’t help but get in place.
The bouncer who set the customer up waves Taehyung over as he closes the door.
“He’s all set,” she says, “I’ll be on cameras, and panic button is ready to go if you need it.”
“Thanks,” he says, and rolls his shoulders back.
He’s seeing a new client today. That’s not always good, but it’s not always bad, either. He could be an old man who’s too handsy and can’t get it up, but either way, if Taehyung plays his hands right, he might get a new regular.
He opens the door.
Namjoon’s hands are sweaty. He’s always so sweaty, and even though the chair is set up so Namjoon could lean back if he wanted to, his back stays ramrod straight.
Namjoon is going to be a gentleman, and he is going to be cordial, and appreciative, and he’s going to tip so well, and maybe, just maybe, he’s going to kill Jimin for this. Because this is not Namjoon’s ideal birthday present.
He’s wiping his gross, sweaty hands on his fancy pants when the door opens, and suddenly, Namjoon can’t breathe.
The man bites his lip and grins. It’s a little sideways thing as he looks Namjoon up and down. His hair is artfully tousled like he stepped out of a fucking French art film with a cigarette between his lips. His eyes are smoked out, and when he finally drags those eyes up to Namjoon’s face, Namjoon is a fucking goner.
“Hi,” the man says, finally, his voice going straight to Namjoon’s groin. The low music pulsing through the room isn’t loud enough to steal any of the man’s words from around them.
“Hi,” Namjoon squeaks, wanting so desperately to cross his legs, but that’s probably, like, so disrespectful to a stripper. He forces himself to stay still, but then reminds himself to breathe. It’s hard.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen you,” the man says, stepping forward with a slow gait. His hips sway as he walks. Namjoon is hypnotized.
“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes. He tries to shake himself out of whatever trance this beautiful man has put him in, but when he looks back up there’s so much skin in front of him that he forgets what he was trying to forget. “Um, my boyfriend thought this would be, um. Fun.”
Namjoon likes the man’s red shorts. He likes them very much.
“Ah,” the man says, and just like that he’s sitting in Namjoon’s lap. Namjoon is going to have a heart attack. He’s going to die, and it’s going to be all Jimin’s fault.
Arms twine around his neck, and suddenly they’re face to face. The feathers from his coat brush against Namjoon’s cheeks. The man lets all his weight rest on Namjoon’s lap, and Namjoon finds that he fucking loves it.
The man leans forward, his breath ghosting across Namjoon’s lips as he whispers: “Because I would have remembered you,” and just like that, Namjoon is in love.
Taehyung scoops his coat off the ground and leaves the broad man with wide eyes and extremely respectful hands dazed in the chair where he found them. Taehyung takes the bills from the man with one last wink before leaving the room, making sure to keep his feet in a straight line as he walks so the man has something to watch as he walks away.
Then the door closes, and he counts his bills.
His eyes widen as he realizes just how much he made in one night. He pumps his fist, hands the bouncer a small cut of his tip as thanks for always keeping him safe, and heads to the back.
Jungkook is already peeling off his makeup.
“Hyung!” he yells with a wide smile, turning around. He’s only gotten the makeup partially off of one eye, black streaks all down his face, but he still somehow glows, “I just had the best guy in a private room.”
Taehyung smiles, and it’s his real one; big and boxy with no pretense of sexiness. He shakes the bills he just got and Jungkook squeals. Taehyung sits next to him and grabs a bit of Jungkook’s makeup remover.
“He was so nice, too,” Jungkook exclaims.
“Oh my god, same,” Taehyung agrees. His makeup is so much more stubborn than Jungkook’s is. “And actually hot? He was so nervous, it was cute, but his dick was huge. I could feel it through his pants.”
Jungkook giggles and they continue to share the details of their nights.
They hold hands on public transportation on the way back to their apartment, and even though they have separate rooms, Jungkook crawls into Taehyung’s bed to cuddle.
As he drifts off to a comfortable sleep, Taehyung finds himself smiling through Jungkook’s snores.
He really did have a great night, and his new client really was a dream come true. He falls asleep with the memory of soft hair between his fingers.
Namjoon never got his fucking name. Hoseok, who had booked a room at the same time with another dancer just for fun learned all about his Bunny, but all Namjoon got from The Man With the Eyes is a few practiced lines and smiles. Namjoon didn’t even learn his stripper name.
He considers asking Jimin who he booked, but that feels like admitting defeat.
So instead, he tells Hoseok that he had fun and would love to see how strippers dance, for science. Hoseok laughs and decides he and Namjoon can go on Friday, when Jimin, Seokjin, and Yoongi are going out to dinner.
So Namjoon finds himself in the same club about a week later, eyes glued to the stage. He just wants a name.
Hoseok’s boy comes out first, his Bunny, and yeah, Namjoon sees it. He’s enchanting. Namjoon wants to wrap him up in a box and take him home, but he’s not the one Namjoon is looking for tonight. Besides, Bunny already has Hoseok wrapped around his finger.
After Bunny’s song, he walks right off stage and into Hoseok’s lap, leaving some of his earnings on the stage. Namjoon wants to roll his eyes, but Bunny’s smile is so real and endearing as he loops his arms around Hoseok’s neck that Namjoon can’t find it in himself to be bitter.
Then, the song changes, and the DJ announces another dancer.
“Everyone, please welcome the gem of Singularity, Carnelian!”
And then, Carnelian walks out. His lips are painted red, eyes still shaded out with dark makeup. It’s a different outfit from the night before; more lace and leather, less feathers, but still enchanting, dramatic, seductive.
He grins as he surveys the audience, his eyes stopping on Namjoon. He winks, right at him, and jumps on the pole.
And holy fucking shit. Carnelian is strong. He’s thin, with lean muscles, but as he lifts himself up with just his arms, Namjoon can’t help but trace the defined lines and veins.
Namjoon is incredibly impressed by Carnelian’s show; not just because he’s hot, but because that is an impressive workout. He’s a beautiful dancer: strong, coordinated, smooth. Bunny had been just as incredible, but Namjoon doesn’t know what Bunny’s weight feels like in his lap. When Carnelian dances, Namjoon can’t help but remember how firm Carnelian’s body is, the calluses on his fingers.
When Carnelian’s set is done, he scoops up the last of the sticky bills from the stage—thrown both for him and for Bunny—but instead of disappearing backstage, he takes the steps straight down, eyes glued on Namjoon.
Next to him, Bunny and Hoseok look seconds from fucking right there in the club. They’re not quite kissing, but it’s close. Hoseok slips another 100,000 won bill into Bunny’s thong. Bunny giggles.
Namjoon expects a similar show from Carnelian, but instead, he grabs a wooden chair from another table. He expertly spins it backwards and straddles the seat. His arms cross over the back of the chair and he rests his head.
“So,” Carnelian says, “you came back.” The music is loud, but they’re close enough to communicate.
“I never got your name,” Namjoon replies.
Carnelian raises his eyebrows in surprise. “We don’t make it a habit to give those out.”
Namjoon shrugs. “I’m okay with Carnelian.”
“And what do I call you?”
“Namjoon, I— Namjoon.”
“And your friend?” Carnelian asks, tilting his chin towards where Bunny and Hoseok are all tangled up and grinding.
Namjoon can’t help but laugh a little. “Hoseok. I think my boyfriend would give Bunny everything he owns without learning his real name, though.”
Carnelian’s eyes widen. “The boyfriend who bought you my dance?”
“No, that was Jimin.”
“That’s a lot of boyfriends. What are you doing here?”
Namjoon shrugs again. “Hoseok and I found some more beautiful things to look at. We have enough time to get around.”
It’s Carnelian’s turn to laugh.
Namjoon is searching for something to say when Carnelian speaks, suddenly.
“Do you want to get dinner? Like, somewhere else?”
Namjoon jolts. “What? Just— just like that?”
Carnelian laughs. “Bunny likes your boyfriend, I like you, I’m hungry.”
“Okay,” Namjoon says, almost breathless, and Carnelian goes off to change.
Taehyung has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.
Yes, Namjoon is hot. Yes, Hoseok is also hot. Yes, Taehyung is hungry. But he just has an instinct, and Taehyung trusts his instinct.
Namjoon is dressed very well. Namjoon tipped well. Hoseok tipped well. And life has been so boring lately. Maybe Taehyung can do something fun.
He’s removing the most aggressive parts of his makeup when Jungkook stumbles in, lips swollen and red and smiling.
“Tae-hyung,” he pants, “I’m going to go home with Hobi-hyung.”
Taehyung grins. “And I’m going out with his boyfriend. What a night.”
These are all bad ideas. It’s like, stripper 101. Don’t go out with clients, don’t go home with clients, don’t give them your real name—
But fuck it. Taehyung has always been a little impulsive, and Jungkook is just so in love with love. Jungkook, who wears lighter makeup anyways, makes it out the door in his street clothes first.
“Stay safe, and text me!” Taehyung yells after him.
Jungkook shouts an affirmative and is gone in an instant.
Taehyung takes his time, makes sure that he looks like a normal person, and heads out the back door where he told Namjoon to meet him. He gives one last nod to the bouncer out back and walks towards the man with his hands in his pant pockets, shoulders hunched awkwardly.
“Taehyung,” he says when he reaches Namjoon. He sticks his hand out. “Call me Taehyung.”
Namjoon smiles. His eyes crinkle up and shine and damn, he’s a pretty man. He shakes Taehyung’s hand.
“It’s great to meet you, Taehyung.”
Taehyung directs them to a burger joint a short walk away. The walk is awkward with all those basic get-to-know-you questions. Taehyung is a year younger than Namjoon, Taehyung loves his job, Bunny is his roommate and best friend in real life.
The burger place is almost empty so late at night, the fluorescent lights inside harsh after spending so long in the hazy club and barely lit streets.
Taehyung is so pretty, even in the shitty lighting and the makeup scraped off of his face. His eyes, still lined with the remnants of mascara, are sharp.
Taehyung orders the greasiest thing on the menu, with extra bacon, and then waits for Namjoon to order and pay.
He jolts into action, so transfixed on Taehyung he forget where he was. He orders the first thing his eyes land on and hopes it’s not too weird. He slips out his black card, Taehyung takes the little number placard, and Namjoon thanks the cashier.
By the time Namjoon turns around, Taehyung has already claimed a booth by a window. He pulls his legs up underneath him on the booth as Namjoon walks over.
Namjoon slides in across from him, feet firmly on the floor beneath the table while Taehyung gets comfortable.
“This place is my favorite after a show,” Taehyung starts, “pole dancing is no joke. Jungkook and I can take out two burgers each, no problem.”
“Jungkook?” Namjoon asks.
“Bunny,” Taehyung smiles, “you’ll get to know him soon enough, if he really likes your boyfriend as much as he said.”
“You two seem close,” Namjoon says, taking his arms off the table as the cashier brings their food on a tray.
Taehyung grabs a fry and pops it into his mouth. “We’ve been poor together for years. He’s my family.”
Taehyung is not at all what Namjoon expected. Carnelian is sex and sin and lust, but Taehyung —
Taehyung sits cross legged under the booth. He eats loudly and talks with his mouth full. He laughs when Namjoon hasn’t even told a joke, and his smile is different, here.
As Carnelian, Taehyung’s smile is a smirk. It’s fun of intention, teasing, seductive. But Taehyung’s smile is wide when he throws his head back, his old ratty jacket sliding off one shoulder.
Taehyung eats quickly, especially considering how much they’re talking. He’s done when Namjoon is only halfway through, so Taehyung starts stealing Namjoon’s fries.
“This is a weird thing to do,” Taehyung says. “I’ve never just randomly had dinner with a client.”
Namjoon wants to ask really? or why? or something else that tells Namjoon more about Taehyung, but instead ends on: “Then why me?”
Taehyung look up at the ceiling and tilts his head back and forth, half eaten fry still in front of his face. “I don’t know. I tend to be impulsive, and you tipped really well. Stripping pays well, but it’s a lot of work. You made my night better, and your boyfriend gave Jungkook heart eyes. And I’ve been bored.”
Namjoon laughs. “That’s not much of a reason.”
Taehyung laughs and gives him that smile, the good one, the silly one that seems happy and not sexy. In the shitty fluorescent lights of a burger joint down the street from a strip club, Taehyung cocks his head, eats the last of his fry, and says: “Then why don’t you give me a few more?”
Namjoon never really figures out why Taehyung decided to take a chance on him, but over the next few years, Namjoon gives Taehyung plenty of reasons to stay.