Ultimate Fantasy Chapter Three

[butterflyslinky]

Title: Ultimate Fantasy
Fandom: TGWTG
Characters (this chapter): Linkara, Spoony, Harvey, Todd, Critic, Joe, OCs
Rating: R
Warning(s): Allusions to non-con and prostitution
Summary: Stripper AU. They are the ultimate fantasy for many people. And one of those people can turn a fantasy into a nightmare.
Note: Thanks to lady_sci_fi for inspiration, consultation, and beta-ing. For reference, see her arts “Magic Gun” and “Mystic Blade.” Also, "I'm Gonna Love You Too" is property of the Buddy Holly estate.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Walking in the backdoor of the club the next night alone was kind of weird. Usually, Linkara and Spoony would show up around the same time and go in together, talking about their days (on the rare occasion that something actually happened), comparing notes on clients, bitching about the god-awful song they had to dance to. But last night, Spoony had been silent, and tonight, he wasn’t there at all.

Linkara quickly ran through his solo routine in his head, trying to remember all the steps as though it actually mattered. As long as he wound up completely naked and smiling his most wicked little smile, the audience didn’t care about his actual movement.

He stopped by the DJ’s booth and handed Todd his CD. “Track eight,” he muttered. “And if they want more, track two.”

Todd looked at him oddly. “What’s wrong with the usual one?”

“Spoony’s off tonight,” Linkara answered easily. “So I’m doing the act alone.”

“We’re not about to find ourselves in the middle of Chicago, are we?” Todd asked, making a note on his set list.

Linkara rolled his eyes. “I promise I didn’t kill Spoony so I could have all the attention for myself.”

Todd laughed. “Just checking, man.”

Linkara forced a smile before heading down to talk to the MC. After getting a new intro written, he headed in to talk to the most difficult man of them all.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the door and poking his head into Critic’s office. “What?” Critic asked without looking up.

“Just wanted to let you know that Spoony’s sick tonight, but I’ve got it covered.”

Critic looked up, not happy. “What’s Spoony sick with?”

“Dunno. He just said he wasn’t up to it tonight. It’s Monday, though, not too many people out there. Should be okay.”

Critic glared another minute. “Okay,” he finally said. “But if that fucker isn’t here Thursday, he’s fired.”

“I’ll tell him that.” Linkara quickly closed the door and headed into the dressing room, ignoring the questions from every side about Spoony. He slammed the door and started getting ready, his mind going back to Spoony.

Upon reaching Linkara’s apartment last night, Spoony had almost immediately passed out. Linkara had dragged him into his room, ignoring Harvey’s inquiries, and put Spoony into bed completely clothed before changing into his pajamas and crawling onto the other side.

They weren’t lovers, they never had been, but they had shared a bed before in all innocence, mostly in the first six months after college when they were completely broke and living in the basement of a boarding house belonging to a mean old woman who charged ten dollars a day and spent most days sitting in front of a TV watching soap operas with the volume all the way up. During that time, Linkara and Spoony had barely been able to afford even the most basic furniture and had wound up spending every night curled together on a twin bed without blankets trying to keep warm. It had been a blessed relief the day that Linkara had found a listing for a wanted roommate and had found a job that offered enough for him to afford it, even if the job was exploiting his own body. After the first few months, he had convinced the owner to give Spoony an audition, and Spoony had managed to earn enough for his own apartment.

They had often talked about living together again, but since they were now coworkers in one of the most awkward ways, they had never done it. But now that Spoony was in this situation, now that the best option could be to leave…

“Linkara! You’re on in five!”

“Thanks,” Linkara called, snapping back to the present and pulling on his outfit. There would be time to worry about Spoony later, once he was done with his act.

He checked himself in the mirror again, making sure that he looked good enough for the audience to try and jump him, and then hurried to his place. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind of all the shit he had to deal with when he was done, and focused on the choreography he hadn’t done in almost a year.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for your pleasure, the dazzling heartbreaker, the one you all love, Magic Gun!”

A cute coy female voice filled the air, though it couldn’t be heard over the screaming as Linkara began to dance, moving his hips more than usual, giving the audience the most lecherous look he could manage at the moment.

You're gonna say you'll miss me

You're gonna say you'll kiss me

Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me

Cause I'm gonna love you too.

As long as he could remember, Linkara had been a terrible dancer by all conventional definitions. His body type didn’t encourage him to try taking normal dance classes, and he didn’t care enough to change that. He took a ballroom class in college to try and meet girls, but had epically failed at it. Just went to show how classes didn’t really matter.

I don't care what you told me

You're gonna say you'll hold me

Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me

Cause I'm gonna love you too.

And it was actually fun sometimes, dancing like a fool, pulling his clothes off to show everyone who he was, what he was. Linkara knew that men like him didn’t often get jobs as strippers, let alone become popular enough to headline, but something about him was apparently attractive to people and he had gotten to this point rather quickly, all things considered. He had grown to actually like this job, and the constant fast moving and not-very-high pay had made him start losing weight again.

After all, another fella took you

But I still can't overlook you

I'm gonna do my best to hook you

After all is said & done

His mind went back to Spoony as he danced. While they had never been more than friends, not even in the nights when they had curled close together to keep warm or with the constant touching, bumping, and grinding they did onstage, Linkara wished that there was more he could do for him. Some way he could show Spoony that this wasn’t his fault, that no one should ever hurt him that way, that someone out there really did care for him…

You're gonna say you'll miss me

You're gonna say you'll kiss me

Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me

Cause I'm gonna love you too.

Spoony had woken up sometime in the afternoon. Linkara, who had barely slept, had merely greeted him kindly and given him some aspirin. Harvey had glanced up and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, and neither Linkara nor Spoony wanted to fill in the blanks. They had spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch with a laptop in front of them, watching stupid Youtube videos until it was time for Linkara to go to the club. He had told Spoony that he could stay there as long as he wanted, that he’d cover for him, that he didn’t have to be by himself if he didn’t want to. Spoony had merely nodded as Linkara left, and it was almost enough to make Linkara say “screw it” and call the whole thing off. But no, he needed to do this. They had Tuesdays and Wednesdays off, he could cover this.

It's gonna happen someday

You're gonna see things my way

Yes, you're gonna say you'll love me

Cause I'm gonna love you too.

He glanced around surreptitiously as he danced and spotted table six. There he was. The man whose fault it was that Spoony wasn’t here tonight, the man who had done this. Linkara made no outward sign that he noticed, but he made a mental note to get one of the bouncers to watch his back when he left. He didn’t want to have to answer any questions about Spoony. And as predicted, the man wasn’t throwing money at the stage, was merely watching with a look of apathetic disappointment on his face.

You're gonna tell me sweet things

You're gonna make my heart sing

Yes, you're gonna hear those bells ring

Cause I'm gonna love you too.

I’m gonna love you too.

Yes, I’m gonna love you too.

Linkara finished the dance, striking the sexiest pose he could, completely exposed as the money flew in from all sides. He grinned seductively at the audience before gathering it up and heading offstage.

He had been worried that they would demand an encore, but without Spoony there was no need—heck, even with Spoony, there was never an encore. He waited a moment, then headed back to the dressing room.

He knew that however much money he was holding in his hands, it would not be enough to please Critic, but he just didn’t care. He needed to finish up, to get dressed and go home to Spoony. And god, thinking that sentence was stupid. They weren’t married. They weren’t even remotely interested in actually having a relationship. They knew each other far too well for that. They were too close, too personal. Nothing would ever change.

At least, that’s what Linkara always told himself. Being anything more than friends with Spoony would just make things complicated, make performing awkward, make Linkara too jealous to let anyone even look at Spoony…

Okay, that train of thought had gone far enough. If he thought about Spoony any more right now, he was going to head out on the floor and punch the asshole at table six right in the face.

Linkara took a breath and headed into Critic’s office, hoping that whatever he was holding would be enough to avoid getting yelled at again.

“Good work, girls, see you tomorrow,” Critic said cheerily to the Sexy Sailor Team as they left, passing Linkara. “Well, Linkara? Gonna give me something better than last night?”

“I hope so,” Linkara mumbled. “But probably not. It’s Monday and I was soloing.”

Critic sighed as Linkara dropped the money on his desk. “I don’t like excuses, Linkara.”

“I know.” Linkara waited patiently while Critic counted, breathing deeply to avoid saying anything about Spoony.

“Not bad,” Critic said at the end. “Not as much as you could, but you’ve already said that.” He divided the money and pushed Linkara’s share across the desk. “Now go home and tell your boyfriend to get his ass back here.”

Linkara glared. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a dance partner.”

Critic raised his eyebrows. “Sure he is. Whatever, just tell him to be back here Thursday.”

“Will do,” Linkara snapped, before pocketing his money and leaving.

He slipped out the back door, kicking himself for not speaking with Joe first, and then tried to relax. It was over, he was going home now, home to Spoony…

But he wasn’t done yet.

The asshole from table six was waiting just outside the door. Linkara scowled at him and started walking away.

“Hey,” the man said. Linkara ignored him, even as the guy started following. “Hey, Magic Gun. I’m talking to you.”

“I bet you are,” Linkara muttered.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m a customer.”

“Not out here, you’re not, so go away.”

“I just wanted to ask where your partner was.”

Linkara glared. “Didn’t want to deal with assholes like you tonight,” he answered.

The man caught his arm. “There’s no need for that,” he said. “I was gonna offer your friend an extra night’s pay, but since he’s not here, I’ll give it to you.”

Linkara wrenched his arm out of the man’s grasp. “Fuck off,” he said.

“Come on.” The man was wearing his most lecherous smile. “Five hundred dollars. Small audience. Better alcohol.”

“Not interested,” Linkara said, walking faster. “And I have to get home.”

The man looked like he was about to say something more, but Linkara hailed a passing cab and slammed the door before he could be intercepted. He was not falling for that.

It was only when Linkara had gotten back home and had seen Spoony was in bed asleep that he stopped hyperventilating. He stared at his friend for a moment before bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I promise,” he whispered as he slid into bed beside him. “No one will ever touch you again.”