Chapter Text
‘You are a bad friend.’ Tenzo typed. Aggressively jamming his pointer finger into the much-abused touch screen of his phone.
Carefully ignoring the flashing lights, pulsing music and noxious levels of glitter scattered around the booth where Anko had abandoned him.
‘I hope you get a UTI.’ He concluded, splitting his text into two parts for maximum annoyance.
Watching the little bubble that signified Anko’s typing hover in the corner of the screen, only be swapped out for a ‘😜’.
He closed out his messaging app, filled with nothing but resigned discomfort. While across the room, Anko filled herself with Tequila; lapped up from the generous cleavage of one of the friendlier ‘waitresses’.
It seemed the road to hell was paved with the good intentions of a designated driver.
Tenzo palmed his phone, taking a look around his earthly purgatory. A seedy looking club near the highway that Anko had insisted was good on weekends. Which turned out to be a grimy, windowless room, filled with homophobic-looking men and the lingering stench of weed.
He tabbed back over to the messaging app. Choosing to throw messages into the void, instead of risking catching a stripper’s eye and having to explain - again - he was the kind of idiot who sat at the corner booth alone because he was waiting for a friend.
‘Anko, let’s leave at 12:30.’ He typed, squinting through the room’s smoky haze to double check his spelling. Feeling dizzy and out of focus despite only having had a single drink, what felt like hours ago.
‘Please.’
‘If I have to stop another poor woman from trying to sell me a lap dance, I’m never giving you a ride again.’
The vinyl of the seats was uncomfortably warm and sticky against his back. Tenzo shifted, trying not to think about what could have made it that way. Hearing the plastic’s squeaky protest over the thumping bass. Trying to look absorbed enough in his task no one would bother him.
He began another message, intent on annoying Anko into responding or turning off her notifications, whichever happened first.
Tenzo squinted at the screen, a bit too successfully absorbed.
Startling at the arm that draped over his shoulders. The boozy, lip-gloss-smearing kiss that plastered itself all over his cheek.
“Unclench your panties captain mom!” Anko yelled into the shell of his ear, trying to make herself heard over the music. “I got you a present!”
“We’re leaving?” Tenzo yelled back, knowing it was too good to be true.
“Nope!” Anko hollered. Loudly Popping the p like the annoying gremlin she was. “No fuckin’ chance dude. The hot waitress has a 30 minute break coming up, and I’m going to spend about 20 of those suffocating myself in pussy.”
She tugged him out of his seat with a sharp jerk, using more strength that a woman of that size should ever possess. “Don’t worry though, I got you some company!”
Tenzo groaned, trying not to cough as they stumbled through a sea of cotton candy scented vape clouds. Heading towards the back of the establishment in a tipsy, meandering route.
“For the last time, I don’t care if you found a woman with ‘jugs bigger than my head’; I don’t want a lap dance!”
“It’s not a fucking woman!” She snapped, pushing and shoving him past what felt like endless throngs of gyrating ass, heaving breasts and balding men. “There’s a reason I brought you here of all places, you stupid fucking fruit, trust the process!”
She punctuated her last statement by kicking open a dingy looking door with a loud bang. Manhandling him into an empty room that was covered with even more glitter and cheap velvet curtains than the last.
Though this one was - at least - blessedly free of smoke. Far enough from the heavy, thumping club music that he could actually hear himself think.
Anko frog marched him into one of the chairs near the center stage, and he let her. Knowing it was easier to let it happen than to waste time on protests. Noticing the pole prominently displayed on the stage with dread.
A stack of crinkled singles was smacked into his hand, uncomfortably damp after having been fished out of her bra. And only the weight of a nearly decade-long friendship kept Tenzo in his seat; stopped him from pettily activating the fire alarm before fleeing the premises, never to be seen again.
“Don’t be a baby,” Anko chided, slapping the back of his head as if she could sense his nefarious plans. “I had this shit all thought out, the bastard was just late.”
Tenzo tipped his head back; closing his eyes, massaging his temples and hoping for patience. Thinking of all the times Anko hadn’t been a horrible friend who hung him out to dry for one night stands. A limited, but meaningful selection of instances.
Trying not to think too deeply about the implications in the usage of ‘bastard’ instead of ‘bitch’.
“You have exactly thirty minutes.” He said, more tired than stern. Refusing to let his mood thaw at the genuine glee in Anko’s cackle. The second sloppy kiss she smacked into his cheek.
“That’s the spirit bestie; you’ll have fun in the end!” She sing-songed, skipping towards the exit, anxious to get back to whatever woman she was abandoning him for. Her fingers slipping past the door with an airy wave before she slammed it closed. Leaving him in the closest thing to blissful silence he had experienced that night.
“Sure,” He mumbled to himself with no small amount of sarcasm. Opening up a half finished crossword puzzle on his phone and hoping whoever Anko had hired wouldn’t show in the end.
Something that looked more and more likely as the minutes ticked by, until he was lulled into a false sense of security. Enjoying the solitude and trying to think of the answer for - 7 down, ‘a classic partner dance with three count melody’.
Interrupted when the door opened and closed with a slam as loud as the ones Anko tended to cause. Giving him false hope that their outing was over.
“Heeeey!” A cheery, definitively non-Anko voice greeted from across the room, letting something drop to the floor with a heavy thump. “Sorry for the wait. Would you buy it if I told you I was rescuing a sack of drowning kittens?”
Tenzo bit back a snort that lodged itself in his throat and became a hacking cough the moment he turned around.
He wheezed, then choked. Confronted with what might have been the most attractive - and least clothed - man he’d ever seen.
Lean and willowy, the stranger wore little other than a harness. Most of his face hidden behind a cloth mask, but somehow no less gorgeous for it.
“Uhhh,” Tenzo gurgled, intelligently. Watching the stripper walk towards the stage, coming terrifyingly close. Barely noticing the antiquated boom box he carried in one hand. Absorbed in the criss cross of the leather across the span of his chest.
Matte black that contrasted starkly against the silver fuzz scattered along his chest and forearms. The darker, wiry trail of gray that led into the man’s ridiculously tight thong, suggesting that - yes, the curtains did match the drapes.
“Cool,” The stripper said, putting the boom box down and sweeping back an equally silver fringe with a toss of his head.
A movement that arched his neck, made the rhinestones in his matching collar flash in the dim light of the room.
Made Tenzo’s tongue swell into something fat and clumsy and incapable of speech inside his mouth.
“Thanks for waiting. I’ll try and make it worth your while.”
Tenzo nodded. Trying to re-boot the higher processes of his brain as soon as possible, Idly wondering if he could blame the jack and coke he’d had what felt like ages ago.
“Your friend paid in advance for a private show, so that’s taken care of. House rules apply, no touching but you can look as much as you want. Also while the mask mandate has been lifted, I’m keeping mine on. That work for you?” He rattled off, ticking them off on his fingers.
Tenzo nodded again. A jerky start-and-stop motion that made the man smile underneath the mask. Visible only by the slight bunching of fabric, the smug and sleepy arch of his eyes, crinkling at the corners.
“So,” He said; meandering over with a practiced strut that made Tenzo’s stomach turn in sick flops, following the beat of his heels drumming across the floor. “Can I know who I’m dancing for tonight?” The man asked, leaning over to box Tenzo in. Bracing his hands on the armrests, centering himself as an inescapable feature in the gaudy landscape.
“Does it really matter?”
He was rewarded with a huffed laugh. A duck of the man’s head that drew his eye to the heart-shaped tag dangling from the collar, stamped with ‘Kakashi’ in thin, narrow script.
“Well it’s a private session, we can afford to get a little more intimate.” ‘Kakashi’ said breezily, artfully ignoring the way Tenzo leaned away from his advance, stiff backed and undeniably flustered.
“Also, I only do this part time so I can afford to get sentimental.”
It was Tenzo’s turn to laugh now, if a million times more awkwardly, doing his best to not look Kakashi in the eye. Finding that it led to the other, equally terrible pitfall of noticing all the moles he had. Dusted around his arms and shoulders alongside the sparkle of glitter.
“Needed more excitement in your life?”
“I wish,” Kakashi complained with a huff. Stepping back towards the stage and exponentially lowering the chances of Tenzo having a heart attack. “I’m a tutor. As fun as it is telling kids they’re wrong all day, rent isn’t cheap.”
“Is that what the mask is for?” Tenzo blurted out without thinking, feeling like he’d committed some sort of social strip club faux pas by asking, trying to backpedal immediately. “Not that you need to tell me but, uh, that’s nice of you.”
“Very covid safe.” He finished lamely, mentally calculating how fast he could collect Anko and force her into his car. So he could escape both this terrible situation - orchestrated by himself - and the uncomfortably attractive man only a few feet away - orchestrated by Anko.
“Thanks,” The Kakashi said dryly, still looking more amused than anything. “But I should probably stop wasting your time and give you what you paid for.”
He stepped onto the stage with more grace than anyone should posses when wearing platforms that tall. Pressing a button on the boom box and letting a mellow guitar riff start to fill the room.
Something that was already miles away from the loud electronica filling the main lobby of the club. Made even more bizarre by the addition of the lyrics trickling out alongside it. Recognizable even to Tenzo’s pop culturally illiterate brain, from the amount of times Anko forced him to relinquish the aux cord in his own vehicle.
“Is that the red hot chilli peppers?” He asked, putting his foot in his mouth all over again. Unable to compute the existence of a seductive dance routine alongside early 2000’s alt rock.
And - once Kakashi had slid into a wide split on the stage - finding that he was unable to compute anything at all.
“If I’m being honest,” He said breezily, chin propped on the heel of his hand. The picture of innocence except for the way his legs splayed out behind him. A sinfully long stretch of corded muscle that strained against the leather straps that circled his thighs.
“I’m incredibly lazy, and I’m not about to shake my flat ass to anything that has a BPM in the double digits.”
“Don’t worry though,” He reassured, smoothly transitioning into his set. Arching his back in time to the music with a sinuous roll. “I promise it works.”
And work it did, as Tenzo sat mutely in place, holding on to the sides of his chair in a death grip. Watching as Kakashi smoothly slid into various contortions around the pole. Hiking his legs up high, while the stage lights cast the dips of his well-muscled body into harsh relief.
He swayed and swung leisurely, with Tenzo as his silent, sweaty voyeur. Over thinking his closeness to the stage and the - most likely - panicked expression on his face.
His stupid, and extremely obvious inability to stop staring at the twin moles near Kakashi’s hipbone. Perfectly positioned to lead the eye to the slope of his waist, the bulge of his ridiculously tight underwear.
Not helped at all by the way Kakashi’s hands drifted leisurely over the area every so often. Brushing over the fabric, stroking his skin in a practiced tease that highlighted the tension in his broad thighs.
Onstage, his tormentor flipped upside down in a move as athletic as it was nerve wracking. Suspended only by the strength of his legs clamped around the pole as he swung towards Tenzo. Blood rushing to his head, but somehow managing to still look ridiculously handsome.
“Well don’t have that much fun now.” He commented, smile clear in his voice. Watching the blush creep up Tenzo’s face with no mask of his own to hide it. “Or I’ll start to feel like I’m keeping you hostage.”
Fuck.
Caught red faced and red handed. Tenzo scraped over his remaining grey matter for acceptable actions. Sharply smacking down his entire stack of ‘boob sweat’ singles onto the stage in a last ditch effort to:
A) End this layer of hell that would fuel his sexual fantasies for months to come
B) Compensate the poor man that had been gaped at awkwardly for about half of Californication’s total run time
C) Complete the transaction and hit the road as soon as possible
“Thank you.” Tenzo said stiffly. Trying to look only at Kakashi’s face and pretend he hadn’t just been watching his ass gyrate onstage in an endless limbo of blissful torture.
“It was very nice. You’re very talented” He continued, digging the hole deeper. Stumbling his way through a butchered sentence when Kakashi dropped down from the pole, kneeling near the edge of the stage.
Bringing him too close for comfort - again - while his hand swept up the bills. Tucking them gently into the waistband of his thong with an excess of prolonged eye contact.
“Tips and compliments are always appreciated, but you don’t need to waste them all in one go. Especially when we still have about twelve minutes left.”
“Twelve?” Tenzo echoed faintly, not even trying to disguise the panic in his expression.
Music coming to a stop shortly after, when Kakashi crawled over to the boxy speaker and pressed pause with a sigh.
“Alright; I don’t do pranks ok? If you’re here and you didn’t want to be, we can end it early. Feel free to walk away, as long as you promise not to hate crime me on the way out.”
“No! It’s not that.” Tenzo tried to explain. Waving his hands frantically and wondering how the night had turned into such a train wreck.
“I’m not some sort of homophobe, I just -” He stammered, struggling to find the words while Kakashi arranged himself more comfortably onstage. Crossing one leg over the other, shifting to a position that let Tenzo peek at a suggestive strip of ass underneath his thigh.
“This isn’t my kind of thing. But not because of anything you did. You were very…”
“Nice?” Kakashi finished for him. With a sly lilt in his voice that made Tenzo groan and give into the urge to bury his face in his hands.
“Just, keep the money. You don’t need to do anything, it’s fine.” He pleaded. Wallowing in the safe and comforting darkness of his own palms.
“Well that’s a little unfair.” Kakashi mused. “I feel like I should at least give you something else in exchange.”
A hard, cold thing nudged against his knee. Prompting Tenzo to surface and face the heel that had been propped on his leg. Follow the slope of Kakashi’s calf up to the tilt of his head.
“How about coffee?”
Tenzo swallowed down the hitch in his throat. Considering the appeal of a place that didn’t smell like smoke and looked like the aftermath of a Ke$ha concert.
“I can do coffee.”
Kakashi wiggled closer to the end of the stage, a calculating glint coming into his eyes. “Great! Do you mind if we use your car? Also can you carry the speaker for me?” He asked, shoving the boom box into Tenzo’s lap without waiting for an answer.
Tenzo looked down at the ridiculously heavy, very much obsolete piece of machinery in his lap. Looked back up at Kakashi, running over the sharp tuck of his waist, the beauty marks that speckled his skin. The amusement in the other’s face when he was caught staring.
“Ok.” Tenzo said faintly, thinking of the poetic justice that would be him ditching Anko at least once. “I can give you a ride.”
“Then lead the way, handsome,” Kakashi replied with a wink. Ruffling Tenzo’s hair as he walked towards the exit. Leaving him with an obvious blush and a riot of butterflies low in his stomach.