Title: Somewhere In Between
Rating: M
Pairing: Noiz/Aoba
WARNING: THIS STORY DEPICTS MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS.

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ATTENTION

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Sagta, username 'junjoupureheart' on Tumblr, will be illustrating this fic! To see her wonderful drawings, please find this story on Archive of Our Own under the author 'realmspinner'. Thanks!

CHAPTER 01

It wasn't his ideal job.

The tight leather pants hugging his lower half was a constant reminder of that fact.

Glancing at the crowd from behind the bar, Seragaki Aoba shuffled from foot to foot, willing the nerves to disappear. There really weren't that many people. It wasn't crowded. Glitter was a little too far away from the city center to accomplish a full house.

Not like that mattered much. Whether it be in front of a crowd of people or a single friend, leather and skin were not a comforting combo. Sometimes a man had to do what a man had to do, and with an aging grandmother and a twin who had been working hard at the same job for over four years, this was one of those times.

It really wasn't his fault he'd been skipping from job to job since high school graduation. It was just bad luck.

Really.

An incorrect accusation that he stole money from a cash register, an accidental nap on the job, and two cases of a business going bankrupt and shutting down left Aoba with the frustration of filling out countless applications and looking through the classifieds. It was only by a stroke of luck that one of the dancers at Glitter quit, and Aoba's best friend Koujaku, who worked as a bartender in the club, flung Aoba in to fill the void. In a declining economy, it would be completely idiotic not to jump on the opportunity.

Though he most certainly had second thoughts.

Koujaku did too, if his expression after seeing Aoba in the leather outfit for the first time was any indication.

But even so, embarrassment was something Aoba could deal with. It wasn't like there weren't rules.

No stripping.

No touching.

They weren't running an escort service here! Though it was a running joke between the dancers that they would certainly make four-or-more-times the amount they actually receive if they did. Aoba figured they liked to mention it a lot as a dig to the manager.

He'd grown to like the place, despite it all. Along with getting to work with his best friend, he'd met and become friends with a few of the staff members, and even some of the regular customers.

Some.

It was a club, after all, and rowdy, lewd drunks were not uncommon.

Thankfully, Mink, the bouncer Aoba was kind of scared to approach even still, had a sharp eye and a good sense of character. He knew when people had had enough to drink and dealt with them accordingly.

Said bouncer was currently stationed near the front door, talking with Koujaku.

Well.

More like listening to Koujaku while offering short affirmations when needed.

"Ah, Aoba, your zipper is unzipped!"

Aoba stopped his little foot dance, looking over his shoulder. Clear, a cheerful young man who warmed up to him rather quickly, pointed an accusatory finger at the zipper on Aoba's back.

"Ah... I was going to ask Koujaku for help but..." Aoba answered, nodding his head toward Koujaku and Mink. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all!" Clear said, swiftly pulling the zipper down. "Is that satisfactory?"

"Very. Thanks," Aoba said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Clear was... a bit of an oddball, but if there was one thing utterly impossible to accomplish, it was not smiling while in the white-haired boy's presence. The boy had charisma down to a tee.

Koujaku swore he had some part in that.

"I hope you have fun out there tonight. Aoba is the perfect combination of sexy and cute; the customers will surely love the show!" Clear declared. Even though the phrase was something Clear used often, the tips of Aoba's ears still managed to flush red.

Before Aoba could wrack his brain for an answer to that, Clear was already a few feet away, tending to a customer. It was time to work, anyway. Aoba glanced at Koujaku once more, but he was still preoccupied. Along with asking for help with the zipper, Aoba had wanted to ask him a question.

Oh well. They'd see each other later.

With his nerves steeled and an almost convincing carefree smile on his face, Aoba made his way over to his spot.

All the dancers had their designated spots, located on small, circular, elevated platforms throughout the club. Each platform was surrounded by two bars forming somewhat of a fence; this was used as a restriction line in case customers wanted to get a little too hands-on. Though throwing tips between the bars was always welcome. Aoba hoped there would be at least one person willing to throw money away tonight.

He wasn't aware that his back was facing a blond-haired man who'd just walked in with that very purpose in mind.

Noiz had never been to this part of town before, even though he lived somewhat close. He'd never been interested, until it just got too boring to sit around at home.

He hadn't heard from the Junkyard Guys in a while. 'Junkyard Guys' because it wasn't even worth remembering their names. It wouldn't be surprising if they finally got their asses caught by the cops, or even wound up lying in a ditch somewhere.

It would suck, though.

Some hand-to-hand combat was always a good way to take care of the boredom.

Venturing into the club, Noiz's lime green eyes darted around. Typical music, typical lighting, typical layout, typical people; there wasn't really anything that stood out.

But there were eyes on his back.

He glanced over his shoulder to see a burly man with brunette dreads staring him down.

Heh, did he really look so dangerous?

Ignoring the stare, Noiz made his way up to the bar and sat down on an end stool. Two bartenders were busily doing this and that, tending to the customers. Seemed like there was some kind of party happening at the other end of the bar, where a group of people were packed in a small area and generally being loud, including occasional whistles and cat-calls most likely aimed at the four dressed-up employees dancing on platforms.

Maybe 'dressed-down' would be a more appropriate term.

"Got some ID on you?"

Noiz raised his gaze to see one of the bartenders in front of him. Only one scarlet eye was visible, the other hiding behind long black bangs, but that one eye was all Noiz needed to see to know the guy was skeptical.

As he should be. Noiz was nineteen.

But that wasn't what his ID said.

"Not even a greeting," Noiz muttered while pulling out his ID card. "Reflects this sub-standard place."

He threw the ID on the bar and watched the man, 'Koujaku' after a quick look at his name-tag, form a tight-lipped smile.

"Have you ever been here before?" Koujaku asked, scrutinizing the card.

"No."

"Then please, don't judge on appearances alone," Koujaku continued pointedly, hesitantly sliding the card back across the counter. Noiz pocketed it and shrugged.

"What's good here?" Noiz asked. Koujaku's eye twitched at the blatant dismissal of his advice.

"Well, what flavors do you like?" Koujaku said.

"Whatever," Noiz said with another shrug.

"... alright then," Koujaku backed down, deciding to make something quick and easy so he could move on from this... admittedly annoying guy. A Whiskey Sour was made and given to the blond within a minute.

Koujaku thought it fit. A sour drink for a sour person.

Noiz grabbed at the cherry stem, experimentally bobbing the red fruit in and out of the liquid. It was bright yellow and thin... he took a sniff and his nose crinkled. He was never a fan of the smell of alcohol, but there was a hint of citrus too.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a sip.

It was strong and tart. He could feel the warmth slide down his throat and spread throughout his chest. He licked his bottom lip before popping the cherry into his mouth and languidly chewing.

Not bad.

His taste buds grew more accustomed to the sourness as he continued to drink.

"Hey handsome," a voice came from his side. He glanced over to see another man, older than him by a couple years at least and flashing an admittedly nice smile, leaning on the bar next to his seat. His blue eyes widened when he got a clear view of Noiz's face. "Oh wow, hey, how many piercings do you have?"

It was a conversation starter for sure.

To Noiz, a rather boring one.

He took his gaze off the newcomer, tilting his head back to down the rest of his drink. The ice in clinked and rattled when Noiz shook it in the air to demand the bartender's attention again. He inwardly smirked at the irritation Koujaku was trying to hide.

"Make me something else," Noiz said. As soon as Koujaku went to pick up the glass, the newcomer raised his hand.

"Ah, let me get that one for him," he offered, grabbing his wallet from his jean's pocket. With a curt sigh, Noiz darted his hand out to rest it on the guy's hand and turned to him with a pointed look.

"Don't waste your time," Noiz said, barely getting a glimpse at the man's anger before turning back to Koujaku making his drink.

"Asshole," the newcomer muttered before disappearing.

The next drink was light brown and thicker. Koujaku had called it a White Russian. It smelled considerably worse than the Whiskey Sour, but the coffee and cream flavors mixed well against his tongue.

He turned his seat around, sipping on the drink and observing the club. There still wasn't anything exciting happening, mainly just people intoxicated or high on life either dancing the night away or chatting it up with others. The club's dancers were also getting some of the attention, as small crowds were surrounding the elevated platforms out on the floor.

One of the dancers had a beautifully rare hair color. Royal blue. Even under the ever-changing lights, Noiz could make out the true color.

He was almost surprised when all he was sucking through the straw was air. Swiveling around, he ordered Koujaku to make him something else again.

This time, the red-eyed bartender really did frown.

"We're kind of busy right now, so it would be nice if you'd just tell me what to make for you," Koujaku reasoned. Noiz raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware of the long amount of time it would take a bartender to come up with a drink," Noiz replied, deadpanned. The underlying sarcasm and criticizing tone set Koujaku's cheeks on fire.

"... I don't even think you know the names of any drinks, because I don't believe you're twenty-one!" Koujaku accused.

"I showed you my ID already."

"It could be fake!"

"And how old are you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

"You're throwing a fit like a child would."

"...!" Koujaku was grinding his teeth. Noiz smirked.

"Are you wanting to deck me right now?"

"Are you trying to pick a fight?!" Koujaku fumed. Unfortunately, before Noiz could say yes, that was exactly what he was doing, the other bartender rushed into the scene.

"Koujaku. Hey, look at me," the white-haired bartender said, taking hold of Koujaku's cheeks. "Calm down."

"But he-!"

"Do I have to sing the Jellyfish song to calm you down?" He asked, and Koujaku's red cheeks grew a shade darker.

"Not here!" Koujaku exclaimed, before taking a deep breath. "... I'm calm, okay?"

Entertainment taken from him, Noiz almost pouted.

A kill-joy. Typical.

"I won't order anything else anyway," Noiz said, waving a hand in the air and turning his seat away from the bar once more. Somewhat disheartened, he pulled out his phone and began playing a game, for lack of anything better to do.

He wasn't sure how long he was playing that game. Soon enough, the tale-tell pressure in his bladder prodded him to take a trip to the bathroom, so he pocketed his game and stood up.

That royal blue hair again.

The guy who he'd noticed dancing earlier was now standing right next to the male restroom's entrance. Next to him was a blond with black-rimmed glasses.

Noiz passed without much of a thought.

Aoba stepped aside when someone brushed against him to get into the bathroom.

It was the place he was trying to go into himself, after an hour dancing, but Virus had caught up to him before he had the chance. Virus was someone who came here often, but an employee/customer relationship was all that existed between them as of yet.

Though Virus was clearly trying to change that.

Aoba almost didn't believe his ears.

"... run that by me again?" Aoba asked, dumbfounded. Virus just smiled cordially.

"You are quite a beautiful man. I've had my eye on you for some time now," Virus began. Aoba could hardly keep eye contact. Being told that so honestly was rather embarrassing. "I'm asking if you'd join me for the night. I'm willing to pay, of course."

Good gosh, Aoba really had to pee.

"Ah... I'm... flattered," Aoba began, backing one foot into the restroom. He hoped Virus would get the hint that he was kind of in a hurry and drop this. "But I'm going to have to decline-"

"Why?" Virus asked immediately, tipping his head to the side as if he was honestly confused about Aoba's reply. "Am I not your type? Ah, could it be the glasses?"

"What. No, no, just..." Aoba sighed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I'm... uncomfortable with the thought of using my body for money. I won't do it."

Virus frowned.

"Well. That certainly is too bad," Virus sighed, though he didn't move away just yet. "If you're embarrassed, no one would have to know. I am perfectly fine with keeping you to myself."

"I won't," Aoba said again, this time with more emphasis. In fact, Aoba was a little startled by how his refusal echoed within the bathroom walls.

"Ah," Virus spoke, that smile back in place. "I will admit defeat. Though if you ever change your mind, I'll be around. I hope you don't think bad of me..?"

"... no, I don't, really," Aoba assured, though he was a little sour about the question in general. But more importantly, this guy had to leave because he wanted to take a piss! Badly! And taking your dick out in front of a guy trying to pay you for sex was not at the top of his 'To Do' list!

Thankfully, Virus did retreat, and Aoba sent a silent prayer up to Heaven as he turned around. Once again, he brushed shoulders with the same guy who'd come in before, and he said a quick word of apology before making a break for the urinal.

"Sorry!" Was what he'd said as they'd passed. Noiz made his way out of the bathroom, smirking.

He'd overheard the whole thing.

"'I won't', hah?" Noiz muttered, finding it amusing. He wished he'd heard the very beginning, so he knew how much the guy offered.

Must not have been much.

It was... cute, hearing someone trying to be righteous in a world that was greedy and selfish. He hadn't come across that in a while.

Everyone wanted something.

Everyone had a motive for doing what they did.

There was no way that guy had money if he was working at a place like this.

Said guy was coming back out of the bathroom. Noiz followed his movements across the floor and up to the bar.

That hair color really was something. His face was nice to look at, and the torso he bared in that outfit was lean and had just the right amount of muscle. Not too much, not too little. As he reached the bar and leaned over on it, Noiz's eyes trailed along his back to the curve of his ass.

He wasn't bad on the eyes at all.

Hm.

"Give me a Pepsi, please?" He spoke to the bartender that had spoiled Noiz's fun earlier by interrupting.

"You're sweating! You should drink water!" He argued. Koujaku laughed at the exchange and looked over at them.

"You should listen to him, Aoba," Koujaku said, earning him a pout from Aoba.

Aoba.

So that was his name.

"Fiiine, get me some water then," Aoba sighed dramatically. "You two are like nagging mothers."

The person who was sitting next to where Aoba stood got up and left.

Perfect.

"I am only looking out for Aoba's health. Did you know that dehydration can cause dizziness, confusion, weight loss, significant drops in blood loss, and even illness?" The white-haired man rattled, handing the cup of water over. Aoba chuckled, not looking worried in the least.

Noiz slid into the now-vacant seat beside Aoba.

"Aoba," he began, testing the name on his lips. The man stopped sipping water and turned toward him, looking somewhat confused. "That's your name, right?"

Noiz watched those amber eyes study him, surely trying to find something familiar. Giving up, Aoba smiled.

"Yeah, that's me," Aoba answered, straightening his posture. "And you are...?"

Aoba took another drink of water. He was slightly confused about how this guy knew his name, but if he had been here before, he guessed it wasn't a big deal. Though he'd certainly never seen this guy in here before. He would have remembered the.. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight- holy hell that was a lot of piercings.

Wow, that had to hurt.

The corner of Noiz's lips turned up at the question, and he smugly leaned forward.

"The one who's taking you home tonight," Noiz whispered. Well, he tried to whisper. The music was a little loud to speak too softly, but Noiz was very aware that Koujaku was looking at them. He figured that guy wouldn't like hearing something like this.

Aoba's mouth dropped open, and for a moment he looked shocked. In the next moment, however, his mouth snapped shut.

"... excuse me?" Aoba asked, hoping he heard wrong. This could not be happening twice in one night, one after the other.

What the hell was he supposed to be, a cheap whore?

"Will a thousand do?" Noiz offered, in Aoba's eyes, way too nonchalantly.

Aoba had to stop his mouth from falling open again, but for an entirely different reason.

Did this guy seriously just say a thousand dollars!?

"Are you seriously offering me a thousand dollars to sleep with you?" Aoba asked slowly, repeating his thoughts. That little smug smirk that Aoba decided he didn't like one bit just got bigger, but the man made no sign of responding. Aoba took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face. "Listen. You're asking the wrong guy-"

"Three thousand?" Noiz interrupted.

This time Aoba couldn't stop his bottom lip from dropping again.

"... you're just pulling my leg now," Aoba accused, sending him a glare and taking another drink. He got at least a little satisfaction when the blond looked surprised.

"I'm not," Noiz said defiantly. Aoba frowned.

"I don't want your money, thanks," Aoba grumbled, pushing off the bar and walking away. Noiz watched him go with raised eyebrows.

The guy wasn't giving in because he didn't believe him.

This was a problem.

Noiz saw an ATM near the entrance.

Maybe not much of a problem after all.

But he really wasn't expecting the amount of outrage on Aoba's face when he re-approached him with the cold hard cash in hand.

"I said no! Do you understand what the word means?!" Aoba exclaimed, pointing a finger into Noiz's chest. "You need to know when to quit, buddy. I'm not some... object you can buy, alright?! This is not that kind of place!"

"Is there a problem here?" Mink asked, walking up to the both of them. Aoba took a deep breath and said no before stomping away. Mink glared at Noiz, but Noiz was too busy watching Aoba's back.

… really. Nothing was fun here.

However, Noiz had found something that wasn't so typical.

I hope you enjoyed!