Molly's Fics Cause she Refuses to Read Them on Ao3

The Disasters Of One Night

Tw/Tags: Pole Dancing, PoleDancer! Chuuya, Explicit Language, Light Dom/sub, Blow Jobs, Car Sex
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Chuuya loved his job, he really did. He loved being the center of attention, loved being on stage, basked in the praise he received and had fun in taking full advantage of all the perks being one of the star-performers brought.

Doing what brought him most joy for a living had been a childhood dream of his and that dream had come true the moment he got employed at the establishment, getting the opportunity to evolve his skills as well as his personality. He had taken the chance without hesitation and now could claim that he had made good use of it. No matter how much sweat and how many tears he had shed during the process, Chuuya was proud to be standing where he was. This job had truly been a blessing and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

However, there were some days, where Chuuya simply wished he had a valid reason to disappear and not show up again until the next day. Today was one of those days.

Nothing, by which he meant absolutely nothing, went right today and everybody's stress-levels shot through the roof, running from one end of the building to the other, trying to fix all the issues.

The day before new year was supposed be an easy one; a small show, less people and closing earlier to have enough time to prepare for the actual big event the next day, where they would celebrate accordingly.

If anybody had known that technology would fail them today, they would have closed for the night. Now they had a broken headlight, meaning they had to arrange the others new to get the needed lightning, had to organize thirty beer crates because the delivery didn't arrive and had to fix a leaking pipe somehow.

Groaning, Chuuya heaved one of the crates up and into the rack. Not that Chuuya didn't have the strength to do that but seeing as this was the fifteenth crate he had carried from the van into the stockroom and sorted in, his muscles were growing tired quicker than he liked them too. Slowly, he began to wonder if he could pull through the performance later. Under normal circumstances he would be on the stage in about thirty minutes, but they had postponed the show over an hour because otherwise they wouldn't get done anything.

Next to him, Kunikida, red in the face from exertion, shoved another beer crate into place. Only a few more to go.

As they went to get the next ones, neither of them talking because even that had become straining, Atsushi rushed past them with a green bucket in his hands. Hadn't he just put that under the sink like ten minutes ago? How long did it take Kouyou to fix a damn sink? She must have been working on that for an hour now.

He brushed his bangs out of his face that were sticking to his forehead. Reaching for the next box, the muscles in Chuuya's arms burnt. Only two more. He could do it.

An ear-bursting scream made him stop in his tracks. Automatically, he and Kunikida exchanged a look, worried and confused, before leaving the crates behind on the sport and hurrying into the direction the scream had come from. The origin wasn't hard to locate, because a crowd had already gathered in the backstage area, just behind the closed curtain.

There was no way the already present guests hadn't heard that. Great, and there they had done everything they could to cover up the problems they were having.

A few seconds later, Chuuya made out Gin's voice, clearly on the stage with calming words and reassurance that they had nothing to worry about. Thank god she had enough common sense to handle the situation accordingly, otherwise Chuuya would have done it right away.

Chuuya couldn't actually see what was going on, too short to look over all the people around the center, but judging by what they said, somebody was injured. Kunikida speaking made everyone else shut up.