Summary: AU. Akihito is a part-time dancer at a club. Asami visits the owner on business and saw him dancing. After that, it's all a downward spiral Akihito can't get himself out of.

Warnings: dub-con/ non-con, use of drugs, cursing, gratuitous PWP (although it may end up as bad smut since I'm still practising. sorry in advance), slash/ yaoi

AN: trying out some parts in present tense. Pardon the odd transitions/ switching tenses.

-oO-

Akihito sits in the dressing room in front of a large mirror and bright lights. He never fails to feel ridiculous in this get-up and makeup – black unbuttoned vest showing off skin, black shorts, nude netted stockings, knee high boots (without heels thankfully), black eyeliner, gloss that makes his lips redder than usual, body glitter (which is an absolutely pain to wash off. Thank goodness he only does this on weekends).

"Takaba! You're up in 10 minutes."

"Ok," he says and gets up, standing by the stage behind the curtains, letting the loud thumping music sooth his nerves.

-oO-

A sleek black car stopped in front of the club. People glanced curiously as the driver got out and opened the passenger door for another man, dressed smartly in a suit that was obviously expensive and tailored. A quelling glance sent them back to minding their own business, picking up where conversation lapsed. Asami nodded to Kirishima who walked ahead to inform the owner that they have arrived.

"This way, sir," the attendant at the door said, and led the way along dimly lit corridors in a background of loud club music. They were passing the dance floor / stage area when Asami stopped, his attention caught by the dancer on stage.

-oO-

Akihito was lost in the music, hips swaying rhythmically, hands caressing, hair flick, cheeky smile, a wink, on the floor, knees apart, head tilted back, hips rotating, bitten red bottom lip, swivel to face back, backward roll into a center split, another wink, get up, hand caressing up extended leg and sashay off with the fading music and catcalls.

He dropped the seductive walk once past the stage curtain and ran his hand through his hair.

"Hey Yuki, I'm going to wash up and go home," he said to the pretty leggy brunette touching up on her makeup in front of the dresser.

"Sure. See you next week." Yuki smiled. "Remember to remove your makeup first." She tossed him a small bottle.

"Thanks." He grabbed his change bag and went into the shower.

Akihito was drying himself when someone knocked on the door. "I'm almost done," he called, quickly changing into his street clothes and opening the door.

He blinked in surprise when he found his boss standing in front of him, worry lines in the corners of his eyes, lips tight. "Sakai-san," he said, "Is there something wrong?"

"Ah, Takaba, glad you're still here," Sakai said, smiling widely, scarily so, relief in his eyes.

Akihito frowned. "I don't have to do another set today, do I? It's Sunday."

"No, no, there's just someone I want you to meet," Sakai said, taking his arm.

"Huh? Eh wait let me put my things away." He dropped his costume in the laundry basket and stuffed his shower stuff in his bag. He had barely zipped it before his boss was pulling him away, saying, "Come along now."

"Who is it?" he asked, half stumbling along behind his boss who was walking faster than normal. "You know our agreement says no meeting or interacting with non-staff personnel right?"

Sakai stopped and looked at him. "He's a business associate. Takaba, be nice. Please. He could make things very difficult."

Akihito wanted to protest but seeing the worried, almost scared look in his usually composed boss, he only said quietly, "Ok."

They continued walking and stopped in front of one of the private rooms. Sakai knocked and opened the door.

"Asami-sama," Sakai bowed and said, "I've brought the dancer. His name is Takaba Akihito." He stepped aside and nudged Akihito forward.

"Hi," he said, bowing to the man lounging elegantly on the seat with a glass of topaz liquid in his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Asami smiled and nodded. "I really enjoyed your performance. Sit and have a drink."

Akihito glanced at his boss who nodded. He sat and looked around. He had not been inside a private room before; his job has no need of it. The room was circular, with floor to ceiling windows at one end, covered by rich thick curtains with gold trimmings. He wondered if the windows overlook the streets or the harbour or the dance floor. Red sofa seats lined the wall, an ornate wooden table with glass overlay sat in the center. There was a large flat screen television in front and speakers at the side. He suddenly realised it's too quiet; he can't hear the blasting music of the club from here. He looked up and was startled. When did Asami move so close to him? Where's Sakai-san and the bodyguard person who was standing behind the door just now?

"They've gone to discuss some business," Asami said, finishing his drink.

"Don't you need to be present too?" Akihito asked, curious since Asami's obviously the very influential business associate who could make things very difficult.

"No," Asami said nonchalantly and offered no further reason. He lit a cigarette and inhaled. "Have you worked here long?"

"Six months or so."

Asami studied him. Akihito wanted to fidget under the older man's scrutiny but his pride would not allow him to, so he stared back steadily. Asami smiled and leaned back. The look in his eyes made Akihito feel like a mouse who was cornered by a cat, waiting for... something.

"You look different on stage," Asami said.

Akihito shrugged. "It's the makeup and costume." This is so lame, he thought, tapping his fingers on his knees. "I'm sorry but I need to be home earlier today. Can I go? If you need company I can ask Yuki to come up. Her set should be over."

Asami made a tsking sound, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray. "You don't usually entertain guests, do you?"

Akihito narrowed his eyes at the insinuation. "I'm only a dancer. I don't interact with non-staff personnel so no, I do not entertain anyone."

"That explains the brash attitude. I must say, you're more interesting off stage. Very well, drink up and you can go." Asami pointed to the untouched glass of alcohol on the table.

Akihito barely bit back a retort for him to go to hell because who the hell is he to tell him what to do, but he remembered his boss's words. He smiled tightly and brought the glass to his lips. The first sip burned his throat and he quickly chugged the rest down. Bloody hell he hates whiskey.

"Satisfied?" he demanded, setting the glass down with an unintentional clang as his vision swam.

A pull - why was he falling - on someone's chest. He blinked, finding the man's face inches from his. "Not yet," Asami whispered and kissed him, open mouthed kisses, tongue, whiskey and smoke.

"Nnn," he protested, twisting, pushing, but a hand at the back of his head wouldn't let him move. Another hand touched him, skin on skin - where did his shirt go - twisting his nipples lightly, caressing down his abs, sliding into his pants and - oh - gripping and slowly pumping his cock. He moaned into the kisses - but he is not gay - unconsciously pushing his pelvis up, seeking more friction, faster, almost... - yes - there. A finger traced - wet, sticky and warm - between his ass, circling the puckered opening - no - rubbing up and down and dipping in - stop, don't - thrusting in and out lazily - strange - more pressure against his anus, another finger - hurts, stop -

"Shh...," a voice crooned, and the pressure and pain is gone. Calmed, he lets it all slip away.

-oO-

Asami looked at the unconscious boy and wondered if the dose was too strong or he just had really low alcohol tolerance. It seems like they'd have to continue this later. After all, it's no fun if the boy is almost comatose.