Fuck You, Pay Me!

18. Finesse

A/N: I forget this fic exists sometimes.

There's an odd sense of nostalgia in the air---loud, thumping music and body glitter everywhere. It reminds Katsuki of when he'd first started working at Somnambul but this place wasn't even halfway as upscale as Midnight's was. 

It's a little hole-in-the wall joint by the name of Sugar Daddy's Exotic Dance Bar, covered wall to wall in erotic posters and sketchy patrons. There are thick layers of dust covering the rickity ceiling fans, giving Katsuki the impression that the place doesn't get cleaned properly all that often. The florescent lights flicker overhead---a warning that they'll be rather useless soon.

The stage doesn't at all look safe enough to be standing on, yet alone dancing. 

He thinks to himself that perhaps most regular joints are like this and he's just spoiled himself by working at Midnight's for so long. It was the first and only club he'd worked at since he'd turned sixteen, so he's inclined to believe that his opinions are rather biased.

Though, what catches his attention the most are the dancers. 

They're female. 

All of them. 

This place doesn't seem to cater to a very wide audience. He's curious as to how Shota's plan would work considering this---if it would even work at all. 

That is...until he witnesses the number one reason as to why this place actually has such shitty clientele. Putting it plainly? 

These girls are bottom tier dancers.

And it would seem that the club owner---Gary---knows it very well, as he'd been left speechless by Katsuki's audition and incredibly eager to hire him without much coaxing on Shota's behalf. They'd given him some half-assed story about Katsuki being a runaway and needing a job to help pay his way through school that Gary, admittedly, didn't seem to give a single shit about. All that he cared about was how much money Katsuki would be able to make him tonight.  

Fat, greedy fucker. 

"Not bad, kid. Not fuckin' bad at all." He breathes, eyes raking Katsuki's half naked body as a giddy grin spreads across his greasy, ruddy face. 

Katsuki can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. 

"You put a little, ah, extra effort in and we're gonna turn you into a star...if you catch my drift." 

Gross. 

"I'm not here to be a star. I'm here to get paid." Katsuki clarifies, his stomach curling uncomfortably as Gary bites into his lip and grunts at him. "And paid you will be, darlin'. What's your name?" 

"Kat." 

"Cute fuckin' name. Hella easy on the eyes. Absolutely bangin' body. Feisty---I like it. Fuck it, you're hired." 

"As if you had a better option. In comparison to the rest of these butter-faced bitches, I'm the best chance you've got of makin' a fuckin' profit in this shithole." 

Gary doesn't have a response for that. Katsuki is glad that he's finally decided to shut the fuck up. 

"I'll pay the kid's house fee for the night if you're actually gonna take him. Go easy on him; he's a good kid." Shota chimes for the first time since they arrived. Gary seems to have forgotten the scruffy man had even been present among them, jumping a bit upon hearing him speak once more. He aggressively clears his throat, checking the time for no apparent reason at all.