Chapter Text
It all started with Tanaka’s sister.
Saeko worked as an exotic dancer at a club in the outskirts of the city. She’d told her brother that she suspected something other than the usual money laundering and tax evading was going on behind the scenes: some girls (and guys) had gone missing during the year she’d worked there.
The police weren’t investigating, because “they don’t give a shit about people like us, Ryuu,” Saeko had said.
Tanaka brought his concerns to Daichi, who’d decided there wouldn’t be any harm in looking into things.
“I’ve already sent Kuroo in to act as a bouncer. He’ll also be backup, in case things go sideways,” Daichi explained, reading from a file. “He’ll scout the place out before you’re up. Saeko also managed to get you and Oikawa jobs. Oikawa will start as a bartender in a week, and you’ll start in a month. Akaashi will be your remote support, so contact him if you need anything.”
Iwaizumi nodded, looking at the floor plans of the club. “And what’s my part in this?” He asked, glancing up at his boss.
Judging by the smile attempting to curl the corner of his mouth upwards, Daichi was definitely up to something. Iwaizumi already didn’t like it.
“How’s your rhythm, Iwaizumi?”
*
“Is he serious?”
Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “Yeah,” he mumbled, rinsing his mouth before walking back into the bedroom.
Oikawa was stretched out on the bed, watching him with appraising eyes. “As much as I appreciate your physique, Iwa-chan, I’d like to think that out of the two of us, I’m more of the stripper-type.”
“Apparently the owner likes his male dancers to be on the buff-side,” Iwaizumi shrugged, going to pull his shirt over his head when an insistent hand stopped him.
He looked down to see Oikawa smirking at him. He knew that smirk. It usually meant that something nefarious was about to happen. That, or something very, very good.
“Since you’re going to be acting as a stripper, you should take every opportunity to practice. You know, for authenticity,” Oikawa drawled, moving back to lie on the bed comfortably. “I’ll be judging your performance, of course.”
“Of course,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, taking a few steps closer to Oikawa’s side of the bed, a light sway in his hips as he moved. “And you’re probably the kind of judge that’s hard to please.”
“The hardest,” Oikawa said breezily, grabbing a remote from the night stand and turning the stereos on. He grinned happily when he heard a familiar beat fill the room softly. He nodded to Iwaizumi, flicking his wrist. “Please proceed.”
Iwaizumi listened for a moment before recognition dawned on him. “Did you have this ready?” he asked, swaying to the beat. His hands were playing on the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal his abs teasingly.
Oikawa shook his head, his eyes glued to Iwaizumi’s hips. “Nope. Lucky coincidence,” he replied with a less than innocent smile.
Iwaizumi huffed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the hamper’s near vicinity. He began unbuckling his belt and slowly pulled it free, loop by loop. “Lucky you,” he murmured, unbuttoning his pants.
Oikawa decided not to dignify that with a response. Once Iwaizumi’s pants were open, tantalizingly revealing his underwear, he sighed and got to his knees, moving to sit on his heels on the edge of the bed. He reached out and grabbed Iwaizumi by the belt loops and pulled him close. “You know what, I think that’s enough practice for one evening,” he whispered into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck.
Iwaizumi smirked, tangling his fingers into Oikawa’s hair. He loved that goddamn hair. It was soft, and just the perfect length to grip tight and pull. The best part was that, as much as he whined about him ‘abusing his luscious locks’, Oikawa absolutely loved getting his hair pulled.
Which is exactly why he now pulled the man’s head back by his hair, relishing in the quiet gasp his lover let out. He leaned down, smiling against the other’s lips. “I agree.”
*
Kuroo rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t too happy with this particular assignment, but he did what he’s told.
He just wished he didn’t have to spend his time shepherding drunken perverts. At least he was allowed to use a bit of force if anyone got too rowdy, unlike Oikawa, who was stuck behind the bar.
Kuroo was also glad he didn’t have to dance around wearing next to nothing like Iwaizumi did. Then again, watching Iwaizumi do exactly that was one of the perks of this assignment. Watching Oikawa pine was another.
He watched how a horny idiot slipped a few bills into a dancer’s panties. As much as he liked strippers and strip clubs in general, he didn’t like working in one. He’d been there for two months already, Oikawa a month and a half and Iwaizumi a month – how hadn’t they found anything substantial yet?
Wednesdays used to be quiet, until the owner they were currently investigating decided that, to attract more people on weeknights, Wednesdays were half-off. Drinks, cigarettes, lap dances, everything. It was no surprise that Wednesday was now possibly even rowdier than the average Friday or Saturday. Today, however, it had so far been a rather peaceful evening.
Oikawa glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 1:30, and the club closed at 2:30 on weeknights. They usually had four to five dancers per night, a couple more on the weekends. It was a generally understood practice that two dancers would remain until closing while the rest could clock out an hour earlier.
He really wasn’t enjoying this undercover assignment. At all. He had to stay away from Iwaizumi for the sake of their cover, and he did, but it was so hard!
While they’d found plenty of evidence against the owner (tax evasion being the least of the man’s ‘endeavours’), apparently everything they’d found was still ‘circumstantial’, and ‘would not hold up in court’.
Oikawa sighed. He wasn’t made for this type of work.
Luckily, it being as late as it was, the crowd was dispersing already. Most of the weeknight crowd were salarymen, who had to be at their offices early in the morning. Sometimes they came alone, sometimes they brought their clients with them. It was amazing how a couple of lap dances from the right dancer and some drinks could smooth over contract terms and such.
They didn’t get a lot of women customers on weeknights. No, women seemed to prefer weekends, when they could ‘go crazy’ without having to worry about having a hangover at work the next day.
Oikawa glanced at the stage nearest to the bar. Saeko was finishing up her last set. She was a beautiful, tall woman with a body worth killing for. She covered her normally short, blond hair with a long, black wig. She said it helped her stay ‘anonymous’, or as anonymous as one could at a place like this. There’d been a few incidents when some customer had tried to get a little something extra from her after her shift was over. They’d approached her because they recognized her hair, and she’d taken to wearing a wig while at work to keep that from happening. Saeko was tough and not afraid to defend herself if she needed to, and had proved capable during these incidents. Oikawa could definitely see how she and Tanaka were related.
She was due a break, Oikawa counted quickly, fixing her a drink as the last beats of the song rang out and she left the stage with bills sticking out from her underwear. Oikawa smiled. Tips weren’t half-off, even on Wednesdays.
Another performance was starting on the second stage. Oikawa saw Kuroo discreetly make his way over to the bar.
“Want me to stop serving them?” he asked, nodding towards the small group of businessmen sitting right by the stage.
Kuroo glanced at him and nodded once. “Probably for the best. They don’t seem like the type to make trouble, but you never know,” he said, sitting down and watching the room.
As Oikawa had predicted, Saeko came over to the bar and sat down next to Kuroo. She smiled brightly when Oikawa handed her the drink he’d made. Non-alcoholic, of course. She was driving home.
“How’s it going?” she asked, taking a sip and sighing delightedly.
Oikawa shrugged. “As you’d expect. Drunken idiots everywhere. How’s it going on your end?” he asked, leaning on the counter as he polished glasses.
“It’s nice enough, no one’s been too handsy tonight, which is always a nice surprise,” she snickered. “Loverboy’s up next, by the way.”
“Huh?” Oikawa frowned in confusion before fixing Saeko an unimpressed stare. “Ha-ha, he’s not my ‘loverboy’,” he grumbled, handing Kuroo a glass of water.
Kuroo smirked, nudging Saeko. “Poor Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s blue-balling him so bad.”
Oikawa glared daggers at Kuroo. The man was clearly enjoying his misery.
He’d suggested to Iwaizumi that maybe their ‘characters’ could be having an illicit affair or something, but the man had just glared at him, called him mean names, and walked away.
It was making Oikawa frustrated emotionally and, more importantly, sexually. Goddammit, Iwaizumi.
His musing were crudely interrupted by the sudden change of song. Oikawa looked up and saw the object of his affections walk to the centre of the stage almost lazily, his bare feet only adding to the nonchalant posture oozing confidence.
Today seemed to be a costume day, as Iwaizumi was wearing a mock police outfit, complete with a hat, sunglasses, and a smug smirk. As the beat kicked off, he leaned his back against the pole and began rolling his hips. His lips parted as he sped up, opening his shirt in a torturously slow pace. Once the last button was undone, he dropped to his knees and arched his back, letting the shirt fall off his arms. His hips never stopped gyrating upwards, treating the men (and, surprisingly, a few women) to a fantasy-inducing scene.
One slightly intoxicated and heavily blushing lady waved a bill towards him, and Oikawa figured it must’ve been a sizeable one because Iwaizumi took off his sunglasses with a predatory smirk and moved so he was within the woman’s reach. She slipped the bill into his pants, and he thanked her by holding her hand on his hip and allowing her a generous grope of his ass before slipping his sunglasses to her face and standing back up, all in a smooth move. The woman’s smile was wide, and one of her friends was actually fanning herself.
Oikawa filled a couple of orders, watching Iwaizumi from the corner of his eye. The song changed into another one, a more fast-paced one this time, instead of the slow and seductive one from before.
Iwaizumi was now holding onto the pole, his arms above his head. He slid down, spreading his legs all the way into a split, much to the viewer’s delight if the ensuing applause and whistles were any indication. The smug smirk still in place, he pulled himself up easily, using only his arms. Once he was back up, he unbuckled his belt, throwing it carelessly towards the back of the stage. He opened his fly, winking at someone. Bills flew to his feet, but he ignored them. He hooked one of his legs around the pole and arched his back, leaning away from the pole. He let arms fall to his sides as he slowly and deliberately lifted his other leg off the ground as well, spinning slowly downwards.
Oikawa had to give it to the man, he’d never seen a man work a pole like that. Women, yes. Men, no. He hated the fact that he hadn’t seen Iwaizumi practice back at HQ. That would’ve been a situation worth taking advantage of.
As Iwaizumi was only a few inches off the floor, he pulled himself upright and climbed back up the pole. Once he was high enough, he threw his feet outwards in a wide arc, swinging himself around the pole a couple of times before slowing down and sliding back down, ending up back on his knees. Sweat was glistening on his body, and he took full advantage of it by trailing his hand from his throat, slowly over his heaving chest, pinching a nipple and opening his mouth in a silent gasp before letting his fingers sink beneath the waist band of his pants.
Kuroo probably saw it before it happened, because he was on his feet fast as fuck. Oikawa frowned, about to ask what was up when his eyes widened.
One of the businessmen had hopped up on the stage, making a drunken grab towards Iwaizumi.
Oikawa had never seen Iwaizumi move that fast. One moment, he had his hand down his pants, the next he was sitting on the businessman’s back, holding his arm back.
To the uninitiated, it looked like a part of the show, the way Iwaizumi was moving his body atop the man. He leaned down to whisper something into the man’s ear before pulling him up and helping him off the stage with a smirk. He looked up, locking his eyes with Kuroo before giving a tiny shake of his head.
Kuroo nodded and sat back down, a bit more tense than before.
Iwaizumi finished his routine with flourish, tipping his hat exaggeratedly before collecting all the money from the stage and strolling backstage. Saeko left the bar, presumably to get ready for the last show.
*
Saeko stepped out from behind the curtain in her new stage outfit. She smiled at Iwaizumi, who was buttoning up a white shirt. “You ready?”
Iwaizumi looked up and nodded. “Yep. You know, I never realized how much work this is,” he stated with a sigh. “Kind of puts things into perspective.”
Saeko shrugged. “It’s a way of life,” she grinned. “You know, when I told Ryuu about what’s been going on around here, I didn’t think something would actually be done about it.”
“Do you know what he does?” Iwaizumi asked, leaving the top two buttons open.
“He’s never told me anything specific, just that he’s working as a pilot for a private company,” Saeko shook her head. “Kinda thought it meant something along the lines of being a rich dude’s pilot instead of some shady government-thing.”
“Not a government-thing, private sector,” Iwaizumi corrected. “Obviously I can’t tell you, but I’m just going to say that what he does makes a difference. Maybe not in a global-sense, but I certainly wouldn’t be here if he didn’t do what he does. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make any sense,” he rubbed the back of his head.
Saeko laughed, reaching out to ruffle Iwaizumi’s hair. “It’s fine! I’m just glad he’s actually got a job instead of sitting around playing on his Xbox all day!”
Iwaizumi decided to refrain from mentioning that playing Xbox was basically all Tanaka and Noya did on their downtime.
“Anyway,” he pried her hand off of his head, “we should go out so we can actually get home at some point today.”
*
Oikawa glanced at the clock. It was now 2 o'clock, and they usually ended Wednesdays with a two-person performance.
Soon enough, the rock music that usually played between dancers changed into a slower and smoother tune. Saeko walked out first, dressed in a black, knee-length trench coat and 3-inch heels. She smiled at the wolf-whistles as she stopped and stood at about halfway through the stage. She tilted her hips slightly forward and leaned her upper body back a bit, posing her head like she was looking over her shoulder.
Iwaizumi stepped out, this time clad in black pants and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Two top buttons were open, revealing his collarbones. He made his way to Saeko slowly, swaying with the beat. He stopped to stand right behind Saeko with her back now leaning on his chest. He trailed his hands from her fingers to her shoulders teasingly before moving to caress her sides and hips. He gripped her hips, pulling her against him.
They began moving their hips together, matching the beat perfectly. Saeko lifted her hands, grabbing Iwaizumi’s head and bringing it to her neck. He responded by making a show of licking her neck from the base to her ear. She leaned her head on his shoulder, moving her hands from Iwaizumi’s head to where his hands were resting on her hips, bringing them over her stomach to her chest.
He lifted his head from her neck, gave a toothy grin to their audience and playfully squeezed her breasts, much to the men’s delight. Hands still together, they undid the belt on Saeko’s coat and began unbuttoning it. Once the coat was unbuttoned, Saeko put her hands to Iwaizumi’s neck while Iwaizumi caressed her stomach, opening the coat in the process. Beneath the coat, Saeko wore a set of black, lacy lingerie, complete with stockings and a garter belt.
They both smiled smugly at the enthusiastic whistling before Iwaizumi whirled Saeko around to face him. Saeko let her arms rest on her sides, leaning her shoulders back as he slid the coat off her shoulders. Once the coat was on her elbows, revealing her upper back, she stopped him, putting her hands on his chest to keep the coat mostly on.
Iwaizumi rested his hands on her waist as he walked her towards the front of the stage carefully step by step. When they were at the pole, he lifted her off the ground effortlessly and turned them around so that his back was to the pole. He set her back down softly and moved his hands behind his back.
Saeko trailed her hands all over his chest before grabbing the shirt and tearing it open, sending some buttons flying. She opened the shirt generously and let it fall off his shoulders, stepping closer to him. Her hands were all over him again, and she sent a wink to the ladies in the audience over his shoulder before grabbing his ass. She then slid down Iwaizumi’s body, stopping when she was on her knees in front of him. She unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and tossing it somewhere behind them. She got back up with a slow sashay of her hips, standing in front of him.
The coat was discarded, along with the fairly ruined shirt. As the music picked up the pace, they swapped their positions smoothly so that Saeko had her back to the pole and Iwaizumi stood in front of her. She grabbed the pole from above her head as Iwaizumi grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up. Saeko arched her back, holding onto the pole as he began rolling his hips upwards. Their bodies moved together like they were one being, but it was probably their expressive faces that truly sold the act.
Iwaizumi slowed down with the music, bringing Saeko’s legs back down as he kneeled down in front of her, keeping his hands high on the back of her thighs. Once she had her feet steady, Saeko let go of the pole and held her chest with one hand while burying her other hand into Iwaizumi’s hair. She smiled lazily, swaying her hips to the last beats.
When the song finally ended, Iwaizumi smoothly gathered the money that had piled on the stage and their discarded clothes while Saeko stood next to him, smiling and fanning herself exaggeratedly. When Iwaizumi was back on his feet as well, they gave a small bow before walking backstage, Saeko keeping her hand on Iwaizumi’s ass all the way.
Oikawa and Kuroo clapped with their guests briefly before returning to their club-closing duties, which mainly consisted of Oikawa counting the till while Kuroo ushered the guests out.
Saeko and Iwaizumi reappeared at 2:30, when they knew all the guests had left. Saeko had removed her wig and most of her make-up and changed into a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. She’d swapped her heels into more comfortable biker boots. Iwaizumi had changed into a pair of tattered jeans with paint stains and a hoodie. They leaned on each other as they walked up to the bar and sat down tiredly.
“Nice work as usual!” Oikawa chirped, leaving the till for until he’d given his friends something to drink. Saeko received another one of Oikawa’s non-alcoholic concoctions, while Iwaizumi received his favourite after work drink: a shot of tequila. He placed a glass of water next to the shot glass.
That was another thing Oikawa would never understand. Tequila. He’d drunk the stuff during college, like everyone, but had had the good sense to stop after he graduated. What was even worse was that Iwaizumi drank the stuff like it was, without the usual salt and lemon. And here he’d thought the man preferred whiskey.
Iwaizumi threw back the shot and let his forehead hit the counter. “What the fuck, it’s only Wednesday,” he groaned, lifting the shot glass for a refill.
Oikawa filled his glass dutifully, shaking his head. “What happened earlier? Kuroo was ready to go,” he asked curiously, putting the bottle down next to Iwaizumi and leaned on the counter.
“Some guy thought me sticking a hand down my pants was an invitation,” Iwaizumi lifted his head, bracing his elbow on the counter and resting his head on his hand. “I told him he better leave a great fucking tip if he didn’t want our bouncer to throw him out on his ass in front of his clients.”
“So did he? Leave a big tip?” Saeko asked, sipping her own drink through a straw.
Iwaizumi grinned, pulling out a few bills from his pocket. “I don’t know, is five hundred bucks a big tip?”
Oikawa’s eyes widened, as did Saeko’s. Iwaizumi snickered, handing both of them a hundred-dollar bill before putting one beneath the glass of water and putting the remaining two hundred back into his pocket. “It’s a little much,” he shrugged, pouring himself a third shot.
“Iwa-chan, I can’t take this,” Oikawa shook his head, holding the bill out to him.
Iwaizumi shook his head, sipping (sipping!) his shot. “No. You work just as hard as we do, not to mention the fact that you keep people drunk enough to throw money at us, but sober enough to not harass us,” he said seriously.
Saeko nodded with a smile, pocketing her share. “He’s right, you know,” she raised an eyebrow at him. “You take care of us like that. We appreciate it.”
Kuroo strolled over to them before Oikawa had a chance to reply. Iwaizumi handed him the bill he’d put beneath the water. Kuroo blinked, but pocketed the money anyway. “I could’ve kicked him out, you know.”
“It was nothing. He was just… overexcited, I think,” Iwaizumi summarized with a small shrug. He threw back what was left in his glass, and poured himself a fourth shot before holding the bottle out to Oikawa. “You better keep that away from me, otherwise I’ll be too hungover to work tomorrow.”
Oikawa chuckled. “What a shame that would be,” he smirked, shelving the tequila to where he kept the ‘staff drinks’. It wasn’t exactly allowed, but as long as Oikawa was in charge of the bar, the dancers were getting whatever they wanted. The owner turned a blind eye to all that was happening in the club. He didn’t care, just as long as there was no trouble and the books were kept properly.
Come to think of it, this was probably the first hint that something was going on behind the scenes.
Iwaizumi smirked. “Aren’t you supposed to be pouring drinks instead of watching the show?”
Oikawa shrugged nonchalantly. “I have wandering eyes.”
Saeko finished her drink, slapping Iwaizumi on the back. “Come on then, Iwaizumi.” Whenever they were the last two working, Saeko gave Iwaizumi a ride home. Oikawa would’ve been jealous if he didn’t know what was truly going on. “Actually, Oikawa said he’d give me a ride home.”
…Come again?
Iwaizumi was raising an eyebrow at him. Saeko looked delighted and slightly astonished at the same time. Oikawa recovered quickly enough.
“I did,” he confirmed, taking a glass of water for himself. “You two can go ahead, I’ll lock up when I’m done.”
Saeko glanced at Kuroo before nodding. “Um. Alright then, take care,” she made a ‘call me’ –gesture at Iwaizumi as she got out of her seat gracefully.
Kuroo hopped off his stool as well, offering his arm to Saeko. “Might I offer the lady some company to her car?” He bowed, making both Oikawa and Iwaizumi snicker.
“The lady accepts,” Saeko accepted in delight, theatrically curtseying before grabbing Kuroo’s arm and waving the two still at the bar goodbye. “Bye, behave yourselves!”
Kuroo glanced back at them, raising an eyebrow with a knowing smirk.
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, waving back. “Never,” he called back, smiling at Saeko’s snort before turning back towards Oikawa.
Oikawa looked at him, considering. “So, what’s up?” he asked eventually, leaning on the bar.
Iwaizumi grabbed him by the collar and pulled him further over the counter, kissing him aggressively the second he was close enough.
Oikawa kissed back enthusiastically. It had been too long since there’d been any actual contact between them. Stolen kisses in the stock room and behind the curtain weren’t enough.
When he’d accepted the job, Oikawa had also accepted not being able to be as close to his lover as he’d grown accustomed to. He’d relished in the fact that at least he’d get to enjoy the show and ogle to his heart’s content.
….Except that he didn’t. Get to ogle. It was very disappointing.
He pulled back with a bite on Iwaizumi’s lower lip, smirking at the frustrated little groan the man made.
“I hate this job,” Iwaizumi mumbled, leaning back to put some space between them.
Oikawa nodded with a sigh. “Me too.”