Chapter Text
Valani's head tilted to the side slowly as he continued to hold that dumb tie.
Slowly, he leaned out, bit by bit dragging the other man with him until Shamil was at the edge of his seat — literally. His eyes greedily consumed every staggering breath the previously cocky man let out. He watched those azure eyes dilated under the dim light the longer they stared at each other.
People like this were easy.
Shamil was easy.
Oh how he wished to put this obnoxious man in his place. Never had he felt such a strong feeling towards a customer — somehow Shamil had carefully pressed each one of his buttons, knowing exactly how to get on his nerves.
And Valani prided himself in being a calm person!
Slowly, he started to bring the tie closer to his chest, leaning forward a little himself. He caught how the blue haired man's gaze dropped to look at his black, glossy lips. He saw how his eyes lingered on his gleaming, silver snake bites.
He watched Shamil's breath hitch. He watched him swallow once before his azure eyes shifted up, peering at Truthless Recluse through his long lashes. He could see how his bottom lip trembled, only to steady itself with a press of his teeth.
Valani leaned in closer himself, just by an inch. He could almost feel Shamil's ragged breath on his face. His head tilted further to the side and so did the others. Valani's lips parted. Shamil’s lips followed suit — he was following his actions.
Truthless Recluse felt like he was taming a beast. Slowly and steadily.
His blue and yellow eyes snapped to a slim hand being lifted up. He watched almost in slow motion as the hand moved to try and grab his wrist.
Without a warning, Truthless Recluse let go of the tie, making the poor wolf of a man stumble back into his chair with wide eyes.
“You don't know my name and you clearly haven't read my policies.” He deadpanned as he stood up again, walking to his pole — his long sheer robe trailing behind him like a fluttering veil. Annoyance spiked within him.
To think he was indulging that…that insolent, disrespectful man. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He grabbed the pole, still facing away — he knew that like this he could calm himself down. Perform his emotions away like he did every night.
“I— I didnt—” he heard Shamil stutter from his seat.
Truthless Recluse felt his own jaw tighten as he held his tongue. Briefly he bent down to stop his pole from spinning before straightening up again.
Without a warning, he swung himself onto the pole, using his other hand to climb up higher until he could comfortably hook his leg onto the metal bar. Now, he was facing Shamil again, looking down at him from an incredible height.
Unreachable.
Untouchable.
Unattainable.
He didn't intend on replying. But seeing the other start to scramble to sit up, he couldn't hold back his tongue.
“You didn't what? I know that Thol gave you my policies.” he hissed, his glare becoming more genuine by the moment. He hated it, he hated how this man made him feel.
“I thought— aha..” Shamil was stuttering like an idiot — and then… It was like a switch flipped. Suddenly, all the nervousness and panic the other was displaying melted away. Once again he leaned back into his chair, lips curling into a smirk.
“—tell me then… What are your policies.” He spoke smoothly, one hand moving up to comb his black and blue curls spilling over his shoulder.
He dared?!
He should be on his knees apologizing!!
“I don't have to tell you anything.” His grip on the pole was so tight, he could feel his skin burn.
“Ah but… how am I meant to respect something I don't know?” Shamil asked, batting his long lashes at Truthless Recluse. If it wasn't for his wolfish grin, perhaps he could've seen the sincerity behind his words.
He wanted to kick that man with his heel.
He wanted to hop off of the pole and leave — he knew he could, Thol was right outside. He could yell and he'd come rushing in to kick Shamil out.
But then he'd have to reimburse the club for the money they'd lose by kicking out a client not even half way through the night.
Not even halfway…
How was he going to survive this with a level head?
Valani closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale through his nose and an exhale through his mouth. He repeated this action a couple of more times until his heart started to settle — the only feeling left within him being the familiar stretch of his muscles and the burning of his skin.
This will be okay. It was just one night and he won't have to see that stupidly handsome face again. If he wanted to keep calm and have a decent night he had to indulge Shamil in these games — for both of their sakes.
“Alright.” He said slowly, calmly. Too calmly. It was almost uncanny coming from him when he looked like this. “I'll tell you this once. Disrespect me again and you'll be kicked out.” He warned, ignoring how victorious smug Shamil looked at that moment.
“First of all, you're not allowed to touch me, at all. Not for any reason. If there's a medical emergency, call the security outside — customers only have the privilege of being in my presence, so know your place.” He said seriously, a brief moment of satisfaction passing through him as he watched the blue haired man deflate.
“Second, you don't get to choose what I perform. I'm the artist and you're just lucky that you got a ticket to my gallery.” Valani loosened his grip on the pole a little, letting him slide down just a bit.
“Third, I don't offer special services nor do I get fully nude. So if that's what you were after I suggest giving your time slot to someone who would appreciate me more.” He scoffed a little, suppressing a smug smile when he saw Shamil's expression growing serious. His azure eyes stayed locked on him yet his mind wasn't all there, like he was calculating what to say next.
Giving up so easily?
“I understand.” Shamil said, folding his hands nearly on his lap.
Somehow, Valani doubted it.
Using his hands he climbed up as high as he could again. He held himself by his hand grim alone as his legs relaxed. Swiftly he wrapped both of them around the cold metal pole, nestling it securely between his thighs. His upper body shifted, pressing his side against the metal while his hands let go of the pole
His gaze never once left the blue haired man.
“Do you?” He asked.
“Yes…”
But.
“But—” Shamil smirked.
There it was. Valani parted his lips, ready to call Thol.
“—I have been in this world for long enough to know how it works. How people work.” Shamil reached into his pants pocket, pulling out his wallet.
Truthless Recluse gave him a glare.
“Three thousand for you to continue what we started.” He said smoothly, pulling out cash. Actual cash. Who carries three thousand dollars in their wallet?! “And please take it under the table, I have no intention of this… fine… establishment taking a cut of what I consider to be yours.” He added as he waved the thin stack of bills — all hundreds.
Valani briefly felt his breath hitch despite the mean expression he had been trying to hold up.
That would be enough to pay off his overdue bill and get him food for a few days.
“And while there— I'll give you another seven thousand to let me touch your hand like I wanted to.” His grin curled wider — like he had already won. Shamil stood up, taking a step towards the stage where he laid out the initial three thousand. The way his hand moved and spread the money gave an impression of someone who knew their way with cards, it was far too smooth.
…
Valani stared quietly.
Ten thousand.
Ten thousand.
For someone like him, this was almost life changing. He could pay off all his bills. He could afford to take a couple of days off without that killing him. Maybe he could take a weekend off, finally meet up with the two of them on a Saturday outside of work… it had been so long…
Maybe they could go get ice cream together like they did all those years ago.
…
“And who knows if you continue to bend your little policies maybe you'll get even more!~ Imagine the possibilities, doll.” Shamil purred, far too confidently. In his mind he had already won as soon as Truthless Recluse spoke up.
People like this were easy.
Truthless Recluse was easy.
Shamil knew that with a flash of a confident smile and a well placed string of words — anyone had a price. He just had to find out what was his.
He waited, expectantly, waiting to hear the dancer agree. To come crawling back. He didn't even know where their special moment would've led — but he was hungry to find out.
He was starving.
The last thing on Shamil's mind was what the dirty blond man did next.
He let go of the pole, fully.
For a second he was free falling.
Shamil’s hands were already on the stage, he was moments away from scrambling up to try and catch him. A rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through his heart.
And then Truthless Recluse caught himself by his strong legs in the knick of time — right before he hit the ground. His head hung low for a few moments. Shamil continued to press his hands against the stage, attempting to hide how shaky they still felt. He blinked owlishly as Truthless Recluse let go, rising up.
His stride was as smooth as ever, as if he didn't just fall from such a great height only to be caught with the pure strength of his legs.
The clicks of his talk heels echoed within the quiet room.
“Funny.” The dancer said, stopping right in front of Shamil.
“Funny…?” He repeated, breathless as his head tipped up, white bangs briefly falling out of his face.
“Funny that you think you can buy me.”
What..?
“—do you truly think that you're the first person to offer this? Pah. I've refused way more than a mere ten thousand.” His hand flipped his dirty blond hair — the action that sent a shiver down Shamil's spine.
So the price was higher after all.
His lips stretched into a teasing, biting grin. He knew how to play these games and he knew how to play them well.
“Oh? Does my dolly need more?”
“I'm not your dolly.” Truthless Recluse hissed, shifting his heel dangerously close to his hand. Shamil quickly moved his hands back, deciding to lean back down into his leather chair.
“I know, I know.” Shamil sighed dramatically, holding his chest while his head shook. “You're no fun, silly!” He pouted playfully, sticking out his bottom lip.
He suppressed a gleeful, smug smile when Truthless Recluse bent down to pick up the money he had laid out earlier. So he would take it but not fulfil the request? Interesting.
Shamil didn't have much longer to decipher before the money landed on his face — having been thrown back at him. He blinked, dumbfoundedly.
“I don't need your filthy money. You're lucky that I even let you sit here and speak to me like this.” Truthless Recluse snapped.
So his mean temper was no joke after all. Yet, Shamil had heard from others today that Truthless Recluse was a man of few words. Seeing him get more and more annoyed — more snappy… well how could that make one's heart not soar?
Oh how he loved toying with his food.
And oh how Truthless Recluse hated his type.
Valani turned around, taking off his long cape with each step he took towards the pole. His legs still burned from catching himself mid fall earlier. It had been a risky move, but at the same time he had been practicing it for a few months now.
That felt as good a moment as any to try it out — the reaction he had gotten to it was just what he wanted too. He didn't however take into account that the other would regain his composure so easily again.
Valani cursed himself quietly for not taking the money. It would've helped, a lot. But he wasn't about to sell out for so little in retrospect — if he did and word got out… he'd be torn to pieces by his customers. He'd be like a deer, trapped, surrounded by starving wolves.
All because of one, far too confident man who simply made an offer at the right time in his life.
“You still have to entertain me for the night. And I'm starting to get bored.” Shamil called out from his seat. Valani could hear the smirk in his voice.
“I don't have to do anything.” He replied smoothly, turning to look at the insufferable man over his shoulder.
“—either you'll sit there, quietly, and enjoy the show or I am going to call my security to escort you out.” He said seriously. Without the usual bite he gave his persona, without the slight touch of edgy flamboyance.
He was genuinely serious.
And, seeing how Shamil stared at him for a few seconds before adopting a straighter posture, hands again folded politely — he knew that he understood.
Finally, Valani put on the music from the beginning.
Finally, Valani let himself imagine that he's back in the studio, practicing with his peers.
His moves started off elegant, warming up his muscles again. Only after a while did he start experimenting with more intermediate, if not professional stunts. If he had been alone, he'd have tried new things too — but he didn't want to come off as clumsy.
Every now and then he'd glance at the blue haired man, who was still sitting there as disciplined as ever. It seemed that being told he'd get kicked out was good enough to shut him up.
Well of course, this was probably his first and last time having enough money to rent him out. Not to mention, those ten thousand were probably a bluff anyways.
During the night at some point Valani had remembered that he should strip too — which led to him slowly peeling off his clothes, layer by layer. He dragged it out as long as he possibly could.
He ignored with what kind of hunger the blue haired man stared at him. Instead Valani focused on perfecting ways and moves to strip mid performance — just like he had done earlier that night in the very beginning.
His last piece of clothes fell to the ground, leaving him completely shirtless. Having been hanging on the pole this entire time, Valani grabbed it again, grinding up against it once in one smooth move to straighten himself up. His strong, soft chest presses itself against the cold metal — making goosebumps rise on his arms.
His eyes shifted towards his quiet observer — catching him just as he had wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
Valani had to say, he didn't expect the other to truly sit there so obediently. Yet it gave him a brief boost of confidence — the ability to turn the tables in their little game.
He slid off of the pole, taking a moment to roll back his shoulders — cracking them. His muscles were starting to protest from hours and hours of practicing, he needed a break.
He was getting hungry again too.
Valani stepped off of the stage without a word, walking past Shamil and towards the mini bar in the room to grab himself a water. He opened a bottle, swinging his head back and taking a few big gulps, not caring how a couple of drops slid down his chin and onto his bare chest.
He glanced again at Shamil who was staring at him like a hawk, yet oh so quiet. It was almost amusing.
…
Valani felt a little bad.
“Do you want some too?” He asked, pulling away from the bottle and offering it to the other. Seeing as the blue haired man looked ridiculously rich, sharing a lipstick covered bottle with an exotic dancer was probably out of question. He was secretly looking forward to the others stumble on how to refuse.
“...”
Hm? Oh!
“You're allowed to speak.”
“Yes please.”
Oh? And a please too?
“There's only this one water. Do you want something else? We have wines, champagne—”
“Water is fine. I want the water.” Shamil replied a little too eagerly, standing up from his seat.
Valani watched as the other walked towards him, peering up at him. All his movements were slow and careful — like he was scared he'd spook away his prey by being too sudden.
He held his breath as Shamil reached out for the bottle, very carefully so as to not let their hands brush against each other. He had learned his lesson.
Just as Valani thought of that he watched the other, now holding the bottle, greedily and far too slowly take a gulp of the water — like he wanted to keep his lips against the rim as long as he possibly could.
He himself swallowed at the display, deciding to start heading back to the stage — Leaving Shamil to his own devices. Having done that…
He missed how Shamil licked the slightest stain of lipstick on the rim of the bottle.
A knock came from the door, catching both of their attentions.
“Mr. M your time is almost up.” Came Thol's voice.
Mr. M? Well he supposed that giving out your full name in a night club wasn't that wise — so good job, Shamil. If that was even his name.
He glanced back at his customer who all but deflated at the news. Yet, not a moment after he grinned.
“Sure thing! Truthless, doll, we can continue tomorrow, hm?” He purred with a wide grin — Valani instantly missed the quiet. Why did he feel bad for him again?
“As if you can afford me again.” He replied in a deadpan as he gathered up his clothes, folding them neatly. “And I'm not your doll.” He repeated.
“Psh— don't be silly!~ I can afford you every night.”
Bluffing.
Valani thought as he rolled his eyes, slipping on one of his tops.
“Sure you can. First you have to bear everyone else who missed out on me tonight.” He shrugged casually, not catching the serious expression that passed Shamil's face.
“—anyways, come pick up your money.” He said, gesturing at the bills on the floor.
“Pick it up? If I recall that was your tip. You should be the one bent down.” Shamil replied with a wolfish grin.
“It's not my tip, I didn't agree to your terms.” Truthless Recluse scoffed. Yet his gaze was heavy when he looked away from the floor.
“Well the terms have changed!~ consider it a tip for a wonderful show you put on tonight. A preview of what is to come if you decide to dance to my tune.” Shamil hummed with smug glee, picking up his white coat from where he had left it.
The attitude!
Before Valani had a moment to snap back, Shamil had already slipped out of the room. He even saw him daringly pat Thol on his shoulder, walking out with a pep on his step.
He blinked a few times.
Thol came in, glancing down at the money on the ground before looking back at Valani.
Right.
Uhm.
Valani bent down, picking up the cash. He ignored how his cheeks burned with embarrassment.
At the end of the night… somehow it felt like he lost their game.