Bon Jovi's "Bad Medicine"
A set of green eyes hiding away under that fireman's visor.
The years have been kind to his external apperance, making him the best and most desirable dancer in ZaZ - a strip joint owned by Azazel, the sleeziest scumbag ever to walk the earth.
The years haven't been kind on his troubled soul.
Sixteen years ago he was young and the ladies lined up to watch him dance, removing a piece of his clothing with every move. It was fun back then. It was easy.
Things have changed. Times have changed. The ladies don't frequent these clubs anymore, especially one so run down like ZaZ. But the men do. And they like to pay extra for a lap dance or more.
And Dean took whatever he could. Because a life depended on it.
He swayed his hips to the music, dropping the heavy jacket of his shoulders. His eyes roamed the crowd as his hands came up his stomach all the way to his oiled up chest. His expression remained blank, mysterious even when he spotted him - the most vile man Dean has ever met.
He went by Alistair, but Dean suspected it wasn't his real name. Not that it mattered. Dean played with his trousers straps, teasing the crowd before finally letting them slide down. He continued to sway his hips and move seductively, still eyeing the people that were watching him, hoping to see an empty table with a white note on it.
Empty table with a white note meant a reservation, not that this place needed it anymore. And a reservation usually meant a bachelorette party. And that would mean that Dean might have a date with a bunch of girls tonight instead of ending up with Alistair yet again.
The table was empty with that white note on it, and the night was young; he still had two more dances to perform, after Kevin and Adam are done with theirs. Those two were still young, a lot more flexible, but completely broken after a week of working for Azazel. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into, not that Dean didn't try and warn them. They just thought he saw them as a threat.
Dean bent over, wiggling his ass in the air before turning around and in one swift motion removed the yellow trousers. This was his favorite costume. Not just because it was a good material that didn't rip easily, but also because he always wanted to be a fireman.
This was the place where childhood dreams come to die.
And even if Dean always knew he would never end up a fireman, he had to hold on to something, even something as trivial as that. Because he was slowly loosing hope, growing more desperate each day.
When he started this, it was fun. Then came a tough decision to allow men to 'rent' him for a night. But now, even that is wearing thin, his most common sponsor slowly running out of money and soon, Dean will have no way of earning more money.
And he needed more money.
His brother needed more money.
His brother needed more time.
Dean took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on the dance. The fireman pole act was coming up and he needed to make it just right. The crowd would go crazy over this signature move of his. With a corner of his eye, he saw the waitress dust off the reserved table. That meant whoever reserved it is at the front door and would be escorted to the table just in time to see Dean's performance.
Dean had to focus.
He ran and jumped on the pole that was in the middle of the extended part of the stage, using his arms and legs to quickly, but gracefully climb all the way to the top. He saw movement by the table, but forced himself to continue with the act.
He twirled around it, securing himself on it with his legs as he turned so that his back was to the crowd. Just at a specific beat of the music, he spread his arms wide and let himself go, his upper body twisting backwards. It seemed like he was falling, and he could hear the muffled gasps as he practically laid on the pole, dangling upside down, securing himself with his hands beneath him. This way his abdomen and slightly impressive bulk came to a perfect emphasis while at the same time showing his flexibility.
And to top it all, still in that position, he slid down the pole with a seductive look in his eyes and could see most of the audience drooling. Mission accomplished.
And as he untwirled himself, managing to spread his legs wide open towards the sky, he tried to get a good look at the reserved table. A small unheard sigh escaped him seeing nothing but a shadow of a man hiding in the booth, too hidden away to be interested in the show.
He caught a glimpse of Alistair's smile and a cold shiver went down his spine. The scumbag wasn't in three nights in a row, and with him here, that only meant one thing. He scored some money and now he was going to buy Dean's company for the night. Great. Dean could only hope Alistair didn't come up with a new way of entertainment and that Den will be able to walk tomorrow.
Second dance was short but so much more seductive, and had the crowd's eyes all over him, but at the end of it, he noticed the man in the back, the one in the reserved table take off, catching nothing but a glimpse of his trenchcoat. Yeah, definitely not interested, and since it was another guy, Dean wasn't that eager to get to know him. Even if he would save him from a night with Alistair.
Better the Devil you know then an Angel you don't.
When the third dance ended, he saw Alistair smirk at him as he stood up and headed to Azazel's office. With a heavy heart Dean went back to his dressing room, cleaned up and got dressed, picking up the Batman costume. He didn't perform in it anymore, but he knew Alistair loved it when he wore it, the leather tights making his legs and ass look amazing.
On his way to Azazel's office, Dean could hear someone shouting and yelling and he saw Alistair stomp out of the office. Spotting Dean, he started his way, grabbed him by the throat and pulled him for a disgusting kiss. Like kissing an ashtray. "You're mine!" He growled and threw Dean against a wall when he heard Azazel yell something.
Dean hit his head and slid down, confused and scared, looking up at the man who practically owned him. Alistair pointed a threatening finger at him and spat out "Mine! Be sure to remember that!" And then stomped out of the club.
Dean didn't even notice he was breathing heavily, not even when Azazel pulled him up and dragged him into his office, muttering something about banishing Alistair. Dean knew he would never do it, he was Dean's greatest sponsor and even if he was a bit short on cash lately, he was a loyal customer. You don't just banish those.
"Listen up, kid... Hey! You hearing me?!" Azazel yelled and Dean focused on him immediately. "There was a new guy out there tonight, saw you and he wants you. Paid good dollar for your... Company." He said and noticed the fear in Dean's eyes.
Now Azazel was never a sympathetic kind, but he needed Dean at his top game tonight, so a little assurance was necessary. "Listen, kid. The guy's loaded. Now, I don't think he is into anything... Weird, but even if he is... He has money. And he is willing to pay twice then what Alistair usually pays so... You better be good tonight. You draw him in and you won't ever have to worry about little Sammy..."
He knew he hit a nerve when he mentioned Sam and Dean's eyes shot up. He knew he had him right where he wanted him.
"You be fucking brilliant tonight kid... Sammy depends on it." He repeated it again, making sure Dean knew exactly what was at stake. If he does good tonight, the guy will want his company tommorow too and will pay for it. More money for Dean meant more money for Sam and all Dean could do is nod with determination.
"Good. There's a limo waiting for you outside. And, kid. Leave the Batman costume." Dean again nodded and walked out of the office in a daze. He still feared what tonight might bring, but the guy was loaded and willing to pay so much for Dean and that's all that mattered.
He walked to his dressing room, dropped off the costume and went outside in nothing but jeans and a black T-shirt, gasping when he saw the giant white limo waiting for him. His heart started racing as he entered it and found it empty, the driver taking off immediately. He was one breath short of a panic attack. Maybe he was way out of his league. What was a guy this loaded doing in a rundown club like ZaZ anyway? Oh, Dean was going to screw this up, he just knew it.
Suddenly, the glass that separated the passengers from the driver opened up and a guy with a white cap spoke up in a clear Louisiana accent.
"You doing ok back there?"
"Y.. yes." Dean replied.
"Name's Benny. What's your name, brother?" The driver asked, looking at Dean through the rearview mirror.
"Alright, good. You did things like these before, Dean?"
"Yes " Dean shot up, feeling a bit more of that determination seep back into his mind.
"Good. Then you'll be just fine. Mr. Novak is a good guy, he'll treat you right."
"Nn..Novak? As in Castiel Novak, the owner and CEO of Novak industries?"
"The one in the same." Benny replied.
'Holy fucking shit!' Dean thought. He was definitely out of his league.