Chapter Text
Upbeat music pounds in Atsumu’s headphones as he walks down the street towards The Black Jackal, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s dressed in loose fitting clothes, his blonde hair is perfectly styled and he’s wearing light makeup. He’s also freshly waxed everywhere from the neck down and wearing his most expensive moisturiser that makes his tanned skin glow. The Black Jackal is the most exclusive strip club in town and also widely recognised as the best and safest one to work at. Atsumu has done his time at shady and rundown establishments and he’s had enough - he’s here to impress, dance his frankly amazing ass off, and get this job.
The black and gold signage calls to him as he approaches the venue. It’s not gaudy or obnoxious but it's there if you know what to look for. The club isn’t a secret, it just doesn’t announce its presence to everyone who happens to walk by. Its reputation is enough for the wealthy clients to arrive in droves via word of mouth among Tokyo’s cream of the crop. There’s even a lengthy waitlist for the best tables, or so Atsumu has heard.
He’s been asked to buzz the delivery door to the right of the main entrance, so that’s what he does. Barely ten seconds pass before the door opens and Atsumu finds himself looking up at someone, which is unusual for him at 6’2”. The man in front of him has short brown hair, bulging muscles under his black suit, and wears a blank expression.
“Um, ’m here t’audition?” Atsumu says, slightly unnerved by the man’s silent stare. The man gives him a once-over before stepping aside to let Atsumu in.
“Follow me.”
Atsumu does as he’s told, his trainers padding along clean wooden floors that eventually transition to lush black carpet with abstract gold patterns. The main room of the club is huge, housing three big stages with shining silver poles. Several cosy booths line the walls, many of them with their own smaller stage in the centre. There are also a good amount of normal tables and bar stools around the stages. The man who let Atsumu in is leading him towards a small group of people standing by what looks to be the main stage. It’s adorned by the club logo made out of crystals and has a golden pole rather than a silver one.
A black-haired woman wearing an earpiece and holding a club-branded tablet turns to greet them as they approach. “Ah, you must be our final candidate, Miya Atsumu. Welcome!”
Her smile is kind and professional, her blue eyes sharp behind pink-rimmed glasses. Atsumu shoots her his trademark smirk, immediately turning on the charm. “Sorry for runnin’ late.”
“Not at all,” she says, checking the time on her smartwatch. “You’re all actually early, which is excellent. Are you ready to get started?”
Atsumu gives her a two-finger salute and nods at the man who let him in before joining the other candidates by the stage. The woman turns to face the group, the four men including Atsumu gathering in a small circle around her.
“My name is Kiyoko and I’m the personnel manager,” she says with a quick bow that they all return. “The taciturn gentleman that let you in is Ushijima, our head of security. The assistant manager is also around here somewhere, but he can introduce himself when he chooses to join us.”
Kiyoko proceeds to launch into a semi-rehearsed speech about working at the club and the benefits of the job. Atsumu’s heard it all before so he takes the opportunity to size up his competition. He immediately dismisses two of the men as no serious threat to his chances. The third one, however, makes him narrow his eyes. The man has immaculately styled chestnut coloured hair, a subtle yet cocky smirk, and a determined look in his eyes. He reminds Atsumu of himself, and that immediately puts him on edge.
Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of quick footsteps, and looks up to see a man with light brown hair and very odd eyebrows approaching the group.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” the newcomer says, bowing to the group and offering Kiyoko an apologetic smile. “I’m Komori, assistant manager and general errand boy for the big bossman.”
Kiyoko rolls her eyes fondly and hands Komori the tablet before gesturing to the glittering stage. “Now, who wants to go first?”
Atsumu mostly tunes out the first two auditions, the generic dance music playing at moderate volume as the non-threatening candidates each take the stage. Komori takes notes on the tablet, whereas Kiyoko simply watches with folded arms and sharp focus. Atsumu is anything but focused, instead scanning the venue and taking it all in. The plush maroon couches in the booths, the subtle glow of hidden neon lights along the sleek metal bar top, the heavy black velvet drapes separating the backstage area from the main club floor.
As his eyes sweep along the far wall his attention is captured by three men in suits sitting at a corner table, seemingly deep in conversation. Two of them have their backs to him but it’s the third one that really catches his eye. The man has porcelain skin that stands in stark contrast to his tailored black suit and shiny dark curls. His eyes are dark and serious, his mouth small and pouty, his jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds. Atsumu’s mouth drops open a little as he stares, a wave of fierce want crashing into him and making his knees weak.
“‘Scuse me, Komori?” Atsumu says in a low voice when the second candidate leaves the stage, causing a natural lull in noise and activity. “Who’s that in the corner?”
Komori looks over his shoulder at the three men. “That’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, my cousin.”
Atsumu definitely recognises that name, and his eyes widen as he looks from Komori to Sakusa and back. “That’s the owner? He’s yer cousin? ”
“Yep,” Komori grins while continuing to tap away on the tablet. “Can you guess how many times he’s been accused of nepotism for having me as his assistant manager? Because it’s a lot.”
Atsumu snorts out a laugh and looks back over at Sakusa, unable to stop his breath coming out as a low whistle as he tries to come to terms with how breathtakingly gorgeous the man is. In the absence of music the sound carries quite well in the big room, catching Sakusa’s attention and making him look up from his meeting. His eyes meet Atsumu for a moment, lingering for just a split second before looking away. Atsumu swears he felt like those impossibly dark eyes were staring right into his soul.
He’s pulled back to reality when the music starts up again, and when he looks up at the stage the man with the chestnut hair is getting ready to perform. He’s wearing simple grey booty shorts and a white crop top, and he’s clearly in good shape. Atsumu manages to catch a quick glance at the tablet over Komori’s shoulder and sees the name Oikawa Tooru. Oikawa is clearly experienced and talented and Atsumu watches him go through his fairly impressive routine with narrowed eyes. He’s good, but Atsumu knows he’s better. He’s not sure how many openings there are - the job advert didn’t say - but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let some half-baked pretty boy beat him if there’s only one spot.
Once Oikawa’s routine is over he walks down from the stage with a cocky grin on his face and a pointed look towards Atsumu. Atsumu ignores him and gets ready, pulling off his own t-shirt and sweatpants to reveal tight black shorts and a ripped black tank top with gold chains attached. It’s far from his most shiny or outrageous outfit, but Atsumu knows it hugs his body just right and is eye-catching enough to be memorable.
He gets up onto the stage and gets a feel for the floor, jumping a few times to check the firmness of it. When the music starts he grips the golden pole, his eyes sliding shut as he rolls his neck and lets the music flow through him. As the bass kicks in he opens his eyes and presses his entire body up against the pole, making sure it’s steady before launching into his audition routine. It’s choreographed to show off his best assets - his thighs, his ass, his core strength. Atsumu goes through the routine with practised ease but still puts his whole heart and his whole ass into it. He doesn’t do things by halves and he’ll make damn sure Komori and Kiyoko know it just by looking at him now.
Atsumu can feel the beat of the music travel through his body and he throws his head back, pulling up his tank top up between his teeth to show off the tanned abs that he works so hard to maintain. He grinds against the pole, dropping lower and spreading his thighs as he lets go of the top again. When he lifts his head back up he almost falters because Sakusa is looking at him.
It’s only for a split second, just the quickest of glances, and Atsumu’s not convinced he didn’t imagine it. Still, if there’s a possibility Sakusa is looking at him he’s absolutely going to show off a little. Atsumu bends down deeper, arches his back further, puts on his best expression of pleasure when he holds onto the pole and throws his head back. He thinks he catches Sakusa glancing once or twice, and even though he isn’t sure it still boosts his ego considerably. Having someone as gorgeous as Sakusa notice you isn’t an everyday occurrence and Atsumu really, really wants to know what’s behind that cool, collected exterior.
He puts on a hell of a performance and when he walks off the stage Oikawa is glaring daggers at him. Atsumu simply winks at him and goes to pull his sweatpants back on. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Kiyoko leaving the group and heading for Sakusa, clipboard in hand. Nerves twist in Atsumu’s gut - he really wants this job.
“You all did a great job,” Komori says to the group, glancing to his side towards Kiyoko and Sakusa. “Things generally move pretty fast around here, so she’ll be back soon.”
“Is the boss impatient?” Atsumu chirps, pulling his t-shirt over his head.
“I’d use the word ‘efficient’,” Komori says, a crooked smile on his lips. “He’s never seen the point in beating around the bush.”
Atsumu files that nugget of information away for later as Kiyoko rejoins the group. She clasps her hands together and gives them all a polite smile. “Oikawa and Miya, if you’ll please come with me.”
Atsumu swiftly hoists his backpack onto his shoulder and follows on Kiyoko’s heels as she leads him and Oikawa towards a door with a keypad. Atsumu chances one last glance at Sakusa, who seems to be focused on his meeting, before the three of them disappear into the back of the club. The hallways are sleek and black, completely spotless and smelling faintly of citrus. They walk in silence until Kiyoko stops at a door, beeping her staff card on the pad by the handle and letting Atsumu and Oikawa inside.
Kiyoko’s office isn’t quite as spotless as the hallways, with professional clutter on the desk and the shelves around the walls. There’s a huge Monstera in a corner and a handful of plushies on the shelf directly behind her chair. She gestures for Atsumu and Oikawa to sit in the two chairs on one side of the desk before settling into her own faux leather office chair. She shuffles a few folders around before pulling out two stacks of papers and handing them over with a smile.
“Congratulations, you’re both hired. Honestly we were only really looking for one dancer, but you were both very impressive so I recommended you both to Sakusa. He trusts my judgement.”
Atsumu grins as he accepts the papers which turn out to be a contract. He thanks Kiyoko and takes his time to read through it, with Oikawa doing the same beside him. They occasionally glance at each other, though it’s more of a glare, both of them sizing the other up as clear competition. Determination swirls in Atsumu’s gut - he’s going to be better than this guy.
“You’ll both be on shift tomorrow night,” Kiyoko says when they hand their contracts back signed and dated. She puts them both into a separate folder. “I’ll get you both copies of these when you come in tomorrow. Since it’s a Thursday it won’t be too busy, so it’s a good day to test the waters and get you both comfortable.”
As Kiyoko leads them out of the office to take a tour of the venue Atsumu immediately spots Sakusa down the hall. He’s being pawed at by a man who Atsumu assumes is another dancer, given how he’s only covered by a silky robe that stops right under his ass. Atsumu sees red for a moment before he registers the decidedly displeased expression on Sakusa’s face. Sakusa pushes the man away and walks off without a word, disappearing into an elevator with a keypad. The dancer huffs and then glares at their little group, shoving past them as he stomps away.
Once he’s out of earshot, Kiyoko rolls her eyes. “A troublemaker and a golddigger, that one. He won’t last long, the boss has no patience for people like that.”
“Good for him,” Atsumu says, glancing in the direction where Sakusa disappeared. “Out of curiosity, where does that elevator go?”
“Sakusa is a very private person,” Kiyoko says as she gestures for Atsumu and Oikawa to follow her. “That elevator leads to his office, which is where he spends most of his time. No staff except myself, Komori, and Ushijima are allowed in there.”
Atsumu hums in response, stealing one last glance at the closed elevator doors as Kiyoko leads them into another hallway.
The rest of the tour goes by without a hitch. Kiyoko shows them the changing rooms with vanities for applying makeup and huge floor-length mirrors, the spotless bathrooms with private showers, and the backstage stairs up onto the stages. At one point they run into two guys carrying cables and electronic equipment, and she introduces them as sound and light techs Kozume and Iwaizumi. As the tour draws to an end, Kiyoko explains that security will always be nearby and any dancer can request an escort at any time if they feel the need.
“We do not tolerate any form of harassment or rule breaking at this club,” Kiyoko says as she opens a door and motions for them to go through. “Anyone who oversteps your boundaries will be thrown out and barred for life. Your safety is the most important thing to us.”
“Sounds ideal, if ya ask me,” Atsumu says as they emerge into the main club venue. “Have had way too many uncomfortable experiences in the past, rather not have any more.”
Out of the corner of his eye Atsumu sees Oikawa glancing at him for a long moment before looking forward again.
“It’s the same for me,” he says as Kiyoko leads them towards the bar. “There are a lot of shady clubs in this town that I never want to step foot in again.”
Before Atsumu can think of a response Kiyoko stops at the bar and introduces them to the head bartenders, Kuroo and Sugawara, who are setting up for the evening. On the way out they also get properly introduced to Ushijima and his second-in-command, Sawamura. Atsumu glances at the way both men are almost bulging out of their suits with the amount of muscle they carry, and feels a strange sense of calm settle in his chest. No troublemaker is going to be able to stand up to that.
“I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow,” Kiyoko says as she lets Atsumu and Oikawa out the front door. “Be here an hour before we open so we can make sure to get you all the info you need before your first shift.”
Atsumu thanks her sincerely and Oikawa does the same, but once the door is closed they’re back to glaring at each other.
“Don’t think ‘m gonna go easy on ya, pretty boy,” Atsumu says, narrowing his eyes as he looks Oikawa up and down.
Oikawa scoffs and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow as he glares back. “Good, that would make it too easy. You better believe I’ll be making more tips than you tomorrow.”
“Oh, yer on,” Atsumu says, pointing at Oikawa. “I’ll beat ya, just watch me.”
“Sorry, I’ll be too busy shaking my ass and being showered with money,” Oikawa smirks before turning around and giving Atsumu the finger over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Miya.”
Atsumu is seething but before he can think of a scathing reply his phone dings.
From: Samu
How did it go, did you get the job?
Atsumu is just about to type out a reply when another text comes through.
From: Samu
I’ve got fatty tuna if you come tell me in person.
🍙🍙🍙
“‘M tellin’ ya, Samu,” Atsumu says around a mouthful of onigiri, a few grains of rice landing on the counter. “I think this ‘s gonna be a good one.”
Osamu glares at the grains of rice and tosses a cleaning rag in Atsumu’s direction. “Yeah, does it seem safe and all?”
“Definitely,” Atsumu nods, taking the rag and half-heartedly cleaning the rice off the counter. “They seem to take safety very seriously.”
“Glad to hear it,” Osamu says, catching the rag one-handed as Atsumu throws it back at him with more force than needed. “Especially after that last place ya were at.”
Atsumu rolls his eyes and picks up another onigiri. “God, don’t remind me. Never wanna be in a place like that again.”
Osamu comes up to stand opposite him, leaning his forearms on the counter so he’s level with Atsumu. “Hopefully ya won’t have to. Do the other staff seem decent?”
“The other new hire is my fuckin’ arch nemesis,” Atsumu says, punching the air in front of him a few times. “‘M gonna beat him, just ya wait.”
“Yer such a dramatic ass,” Osamu says with an eyeroll. “What about the boss, what’s he like?”
“Fucking hot,” Atsumu says, and Osamu puts his face in his hands and groans. “What? He is! All cool and mysterious, and looks great in a suit.”
“Don’t do anythin’ stupid, Tsumu,” Osamu says, giving him a warning glare between his fingers. “Good dick ain’t worth gettin’ fired for.”
Atsumu scoffs, swallowing down the last of his second onigiri. “As if ya wouldn’t fuck someone in the kitchen in a heartbeat, given the chance.”
“That’s the good thing about bein’ self employed,” Osamu says, straightening up and returning to the prep area. “There’s no one around to fire me for improper conduct.”
Atsumu flips his brother off and picks up the last onigiri in front of him, though he’s fully aware Osamu is currently making more. Atsumu is more charming than anyone he’s ever met and he’s confident he can charm the suit slacks off of his new boss without consequences.
Atsumu grins to himself as he bites into the rice. This new job is going to be fun.