Rare dance for a rare man
Hinata didn’t stop moving.
The moment his eyes locked with Kageyama’s, something primal and ancient curled up inside him — heat licking at his chest, adrenaline pumping like static under his skin. His hand gripped the pole tighter. He spun again, this time faster, tighter, flipping upside down with a smooth arch that made the crowd holler.
He wasn’t performing for them anymore.
He was performing for him.
Across the room, Kageyama took his seat in the VIP lounge — a dark leather booth with a full view of the stage. He sat beside Tsukishima, who was already sipping something expensive and bored-looking, but Kageyama’s posture was sharp. Focused.
His elbows rested on his knees, jacket draped over the back of the couch, hands clasped in front of him. His eyes never left the Rare Omega on stage.
Tsukishima
"That him?" Tsukishima asked casually, though his gaze was just as steady.
Hinata spun again, sweat glistening under the lights, chest heaving as he dropped into a low split and rolled his hips forward in a movement that had the entire front row screaming. The cherry-red stage lights gleamed off his bronzed skin, his hair stuck slightly to his forehead, and his lips curved into a soft smirk — one that barely hid how fast his heart was pounding.
You’re mine, Kageyama thought, chest rising with the slow burn of possessiveness.
You always were.
Backstage, behind the heavy curtains, Akaashi waited in the wings, watching the routine wind down. His arms were folded neatly, breath calm. But when he glanced past the curtain and spotted Bokuto standing by the bar — tall, broad, loud — he didn’t think much of it.
Hinata gave one final twirl, flipping into a graceful drop to his knees with a bow, and the crowd lost it. Cheers, bills flying, screams. The lights dimmed slightly as the song ended.
The curtain briefly closed.The curtain briefly closed.
Hinata came offstage, chest heaving, sweat sliding down his back. Akaashi passed him on the way out — and in that split second—
The Beta’s mouth fell open. His whole body jerked forward like something magnetic had locked onto his chest. The drink in his hand almost slipped. His pupils dilated so fast it was almost comedic, and Tsukishima noticed.
Tsukishima
"Oh" The blond muttered into his glass. "There he goes"
Because Bokuto — who never shut up — was silent.
He stared, completely stunned, as Akaashi took the stage in midnight silk and mesh, hips already moving to a slow, sultry beat. He hadn’t even made it to the pole before Bokuto leaned against the railing like a man hit with a train.
Bokuto
"He's" Bokuto muttered. "he's"
Tsukishima offered dryly.
"Perfect" Bokuto whispered.
Kageyama didn’t react. He was still thinking about Hinata — the way he twirled and spun, the way he looked at him... the way his breath was ragged when he stopped. He stood, motioned over a manager with a snap of his fingers.
Kageyama Tobio
"A private room" Kageyama said, voice low and final. "With him..."
The manager blinked. "Of course sir"
Backstage, Hinata wiped sweat from his brow, legs still shaking from the high of the performance. He hadn’t danced like that before — not for real. Not from instinct. It felt like flying and drowning all at once.
Then the floor manager approached him with a nervous smile.
“VIP room,” they said softly. “A request. He wants you.”
He didn’t have to ask who.
Hinata Shoyo
“You… want me to give a private?” His voice cracked, hands still on his towel. “I’ve never done a lap dance before.”
“You don’t have to say yes,” they said carefully. “But it’s… him.”
Hinata’s breath caught. He looked down at his trembling hands, then at the stage, where Akaashi was spinning so gracefully it looked like the pole was dancing around him.
The VIP private room was smaller than he expected.
Velvet walls. A crimson curtain. Gilded accents and low lighting. There was only one chair in the center — oversized, shadowed — and he was in it.
Kageyama sat like a king with his tie undone, sleeves rolled up, his scent already pushing against the walls like a physical thing. Dark and stormy, citrus and cedar and power.
Hinata entered slowly, barefoot, wearing nothing but gold briefs and the thinnest layer of sweat.
The door shut behind him.
They stared at each other.
Hinata swallowed hard, heart threatening to jump out of his chest.
Hinata Shoyo
“I… I’ve never done a lap dance before,” he admitted quietly.
Kageyama Tobio
Kageyama leaned back. “Then learn. On me.”
Hinata felt his knees wobble. His fingers twitched. He walked forward slowly, placed one hand on the arm of the chair for balance — and then lowered himself onto Kageyama’s lap.
The air grew thick instantly.
Kageyama was warm. His thighs strong beneath Hinata’s own, and the scent… it was too much. Too familiar. Like the gym back home. Like old promises and fireflies and the warmth of his first ever kiss — clumsy and barely a peck.
Now he was sitting on a grown man.
Kageyama’s hand came up — not to grope, not to grab — but to rest gently on Hinata’s waist, grounding him.
Kageyama Tobio
“Move,” he said, low and firm.
Hinata swallowed again, then slowly began to roll his hips.
Once. Twice. A little shaky.
Kageyama Tobio
Kageyama exhaled, his grip tightening just a fraction. “Slower.”
The rhythm settled between them, hot and heady. Hinata’s thighs burned, but he didn’t stop. Every shift of his hips made Kageyama’s breath hitch just a little more. His scent flared, feral and controlled — like a volcano buried under centuries of restraint.
Kageyama Tobio
“You still smell like roses,” Kageyama said hoarsely. “Even under the suppressant.”
Hinata couldn’t answer. Could barely think.
And then, so quiet he almost missed it, Kageyama whispered:
Kageyama Tobio
“Do you still remember what I promised you?”
Their faces were inches apart.
A beat of silence. Then two.
Hinata Shoyo
“I remember everything,” Hinata whispered.
I hoped you like it, ch. 3 and 4 is coming out tomorrow 🙌
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