Chapter Text
"A strip club?" Jack laughs after Thornton's debrief of their newest case. Apparently, the only way to get close to a foreign diplomat was through his (*ahem*) personal vices.
"Yes, Dalton," Thornton says, unamused. She raises an eyebrow, "You have a problem with that?"
"Nah," the agent shakes his head as he raises his hands in surrender. "I'm just wondering who you had in mind for this particular mission."
"Hey, I do not show for anyone," Riley instantly shoots down any ideas of her doing it.
"You are also unqualified for this particular task," Thornton adds with a slight strain to the word 'unqualified'.
"He's gay," Mac supplies before things can be drawn out. He smirks at Jack's look of surprise. "Yeah. Looks like I'm going to have to brush up on my pole dancing."
Jack's face blanks as he stares at the younger agent.
"Your what now?"
- - -
Techno music pounds in the darkened room as low colored lights shine bright enough for people to move around. There's a small, thin stage in the center of the room, surrounded by chairs. The diplomat is sitting at the center, a pretty blonde boy already sitting in his lap.
"Guy's clearly got a type," Jack grumbles under his breath from where he was trying to stay out of eyesight in a corner booth. He waves away another offer of a drink from a topless, black haired teen. When the waiter walks away looking disappointed, Jack desperately tries not to roll his eyes or cringe.
"I think someone's got a crush on you," Riley jokes over the comms. The techie is keeping an eye on her teammates through the security cameras from a van two blocks away. Not all of the rooms were monitored, for obvious reasons, but the main room had plenty of camera to hack.
"If that kid's legal, I'm twenty eight," the agent hides his words with a wipe at his face. "When does Mac's show start again?"
A drum roll follows the question and a spotlight shines on the curtains at the stage.
"For your viewing pleasure," a speaker announces lowly, drawing even more attention to the show before it starts. "In his debut performance, Mr. Fix-It."
"Mr. Fix it?" Jack can't believe his teammate's choice in name. "What's the kid thinki-"
The rest of the agent's words are stolen as Mac takes to the stage. The blonde comes out in a flourishing part of the curtains. He's wearing a sparkly jumpsuit with a too-large tool belt. What happens after has Jack frozen in shock.
Mac can MOVE. The blonde clearly know his body well. Mac slides and moves with such fluid movements it's like he and his clothes are one person.
Then the young agent starts taking things off and the room's temperature skyrockets.
The belt goes first, with much pretend protest and inappropriate movements. Jack will never look at a tool belt the same again. In fact, he's going to burn his when he gets home.
The jumpsuit is fastened with snaps, and Mac rips half of it off in one powerful movement while he looks directly at their target.
Jack swallows thickly. The kid was the definition of HOT.
Thankfully, Mac's boots prevent him from stripping down more than just his torso, but where he ties the shirt sleeves....
When the black haired teen offers Jack a drink again, he gladly downs a swig of whatever the kid's peddling.
He thinks it was vodka, maybe with a squeeze of lime.
Mac winks at the diplomat before striding off the stage for the next performer. Jack takes an ice cube out of the drink in front of him -when did that get there?- and rubs it around his neck as he tries to calm his breath.
'Nothing terrible better happen,' Jack thinks as he feels something uncomfortable in his nether regions. 'I don't want to fight the bad guys with THAT problem.'
"Looks like Mac caught our diplomat's attention," Riley comments with a touch of pride.
'Not just his,' Jack thankfully stops himself from saying the words. Instead, he looks over to their target to see the man ignoring the beauty in his lap to wistfully stare at where Mac was standing just moments before.
The diplomat quickly gets up and flags down a manager and whispers something in their ear. The manager smiles and nods, accepting the money from the diplomat and directing him towards one of the private rooms.
"Looks like Mac's up for part two," Riley points out. "You okay there, Jack? You're being too quiet. Especially for you."
Jack clears his throat first, "I'm good. Just...Keeping an eye out."
"Ahuh," the techie replies, disbelief clear in her voice. "Just make sure to keep those eyes out for danger."
"What else would I be looking at?" Jack growls lowly, defensively. The dark waiter startles a little and stares at the agent with large eyes. If the kid really had feeling for him, Jack is going to feel like crap for doing this...He smiles at the kid, "Hey, there. You wanna go to the back rooms?"
The kid's face lights up with hope and Jack hates himself a little as he emulates the expression.
Jack watches the diplomat go to the back rooms with Mac and he follows with the dark haired waiter. When his partner takes the room across the hall, Jack is slightly relieved.
Slightly. He still has to let his 'date' down easily.
The second his door closes, the dark haired kid is on Jack, trying to kiss into the agent's mouth in desperation.
"Woah!" Jack pushes the kid back gently but firmly. "Take it easy there, kid."
"I know you like blondes," the kid smiles sadly, his eyes dark with want. "But I can make things good for you too."
That sends a pleasant shiver through the agent's body, but he doesn't have the luxury of enjoying the feeling.
"I don't even know your name-" he starts.
"Vlad, now can we?"
Jack keeps the kid at bay, the hatred he had for himself mounting with the Vlad's look of hurt, "Listen, Vlad. I'm...I'm sorry but...."
"Jack," Riley awkwardly breaks into his head. "Uhm...When you're," she clears her throat. "Mac's ready when you...When you...finish."
There's no dignified way to tell someone to not have intercourse and break into someone else's room. It's just super awkward for everyone.
Jack lets out a frustrated breath. He holds one arm out to keep Vlad back and pulls out his wallet.
"Listen," Jack slowly releases the kid, waits to make sure he won't be attacked again and smiles when Vlad stays still. He pulls out all the money in his wallet, about five hundred dollars, give or take. He gives it to the kid, "I'm sorry. I can't do this after all. I'm sorry."
"Oh," Vlad takes the money, eyes downcast to stare at the bills in his hand. His voice is wavering when he adds, "Is it because I'm....ugly?"
"No!" Jack assures him, trying to think of the fastest way of the situation. He decides to pat the kid in the shoulder, "You're gorgeous, honestly. You should find another job, You're too good for this line of stuff, Vlad."
"What else can I do?" Vlad looks up with wet eyes. "I only finished High School. I'm too old to go back to school."
"You can't be more than twenty, Vlad," Jack huffs a laugh, pulling back his hand and turning to put his ear to the door to listen for company. He doesn't hear any footsteps, which is good. He has to help Mac get the diplomat out of there. He smiles at the kid, "Figure out what you want and go for it, Vlad. Don't wait for life to come looking for you. Carpe Dime and all that. Seize the day."
Jack grabs hold of the handle to leave, but Vlad puts a hand over the agent's to stop him.
"I never got your name," Vlad says, eyes so full of mixed emotions, Jack is tempted to give him the real thing.
"My friend's call me Nicky," Jack winks at the kid. "I'll see ya round, Vlad."
Jack sneaks out of his room and gets into Mac's a second later.
The blonde agent looks at his partner expectantly, the diplomat unconscious and bound at his feet.
"That was fast," the older agent jokes half-heartedly, grabbing hold of the blanket off the bed to wrap the body. "You ready with that escape route, Riley?"
"Been ready," the techie remarks dryly.
"I am sorry that I am also good looking," Jack remarks with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
"We heard everything, Jack," Mac points out, arms crossed over his chest. The blonde was out of his stripper costume and wearing his regular outfit; jeans, shirt and a leather jacket. Somehow, it still affects the heat on Jack's cheeks.
"Nosy," the agent mumbles as he finishes wrapping the body and hoists it up on to his shoulder. "You ready? This guy's heavy."
Mac nods, going for the hallway door to check for other people.
The two agents make it safely out of the club without anyone noticing.
Everyone heaves a sigh of relief when they actually drive away without any angry people shouting at them or trying to shoot at them.
---End Version 1---