Go to the club, they said. It will be fun, they said | Bonus Chapter
[Masterlist]
We saw how Tamlin's world changed that fateful night. But what about our two dancers? What about them and the bond they share?
It's good to be back with some good old Rhycien. And you know what? Now there's a space dedicated to the very niche Rhycien community. Together with @maraschinosqueeze (who literllay did everything, I am jsut here to smile and wave) we've finally created a RHYCIEN SERVER ON DISCORD.
Taglist: @jir67 @highlordofkrypton @lzrsaugust @natureboy95 @penellaphemierel @oceloto @celestialstories-sims @wow-bow-bow @beautiful-catastrophes @lifeisabiscuit @somestuffwhyy @ejkreader @axolotlsprout @themadmorrigan @sonics-atelier @trash-shrike @monsuns [want to be added/removed from the list? Just ask!]
Originally an entry for "Tamsand vs. Tamcien weekend".
NSFW
Urban Fantasy setting
Rhys liked to think of himself as a professional, most of the times. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that people paid to see him dance and strip, but never had one single lap dance left him so piqued. It had been three weeks, but during those days he had hoped to see the blonde fae enter the private rooms every single time. And he knew, for a fact, that Lucien felt the same. It was new, something they’d never felt for a client before.
“Maybe it is our type” said Lucien. They were sitting in his car, wings crammed in the small space, fast food on their legs, after the end of their shift at the club. 4 am snacks at the nearest burrito place, a protein load after four hours of dancing and high-energy activities. It was their usual before going home to their respective flats in the same building.
“Of course it is: in my case, first of all, he’s blonde. And he’s big, you know what I mean? You could choke on those pectorals…”
“I would die happy there, but the antlers… the antlers, Rhys. You could hang on there and at the moment I can’t think of anything hotter. I can’t believe we got it this bad for a costumer…” Lucien sounded desperate and Rhys knew it was true because he was feeling the exact same thing. He couldn’t forget the hunger in his eyes, burning them from the crowd, or the way he’d almost stopped breathing when he’d watched them simulate the dance. “I don’t think I ever felt so exposed in front of a client,” finished the fox.
“Me, too. And I am starting to think it’s because we feel somehow interested in him. We’ve had very attractive people there, but it’s the connection. There’s chemistry with him” agreed Rhys. He enjoyed those late night talks in the car after shift. They were raw and honest, laced with the certainty that they would not lie to each other under the soft lunar light of the earliest morning when the world was about to wake up and they were about to go to sleep. The parking lot was completely empty, a martian expanse of concrete illuminated only by the red and green neon sign of the burrito chain.
“I would like to dance again for him… I hope he comes back” admitted Lucien, dunking a fry in Rhys’s milkshake. “I hope this desperate hope to see him again and just see if it was all because he’s a hunk.”
“If he was available you would have already slipped your number in his pocket” chuckled Rhys. “And I would have begged to know what happened.”
Lucien remained with another fry halfway to his mouth, a bit confused. His foxy friend cocked his head on the side like a confused puppy. “What do you mean if he was available”.
“He enjoyed a lapdance, we don’t know if he was available in that specific sense as in liking males.”
“Rhys, don’t be ridiculous. He was rock hard, of course he likes males, whether he knows it or not, his body wasn’t screaming ‘I don’t like males, sorry no homo’, au contraire, sir. His body was very much ‘Oh yes, more homo’”.
He was probably right, thought Rhys, thinking back at the bulge he’d felt under his pants. Nothing unusual, but he knew from the past that Tamlin Spring had never dated another male and that his family really didn’t think it was something appropriate. At least at the time when they’d crossed path. He bit his burrito, deep in his thoughts. “But the closeted ones are the worst. What if he never comes back because he got scared?”
“Then it was not worthy to begin with. Neither of us deserves the pain of getting to know someone just to be ditched because they can’t accept who they are.” It was a very trenchant comment, but it explained Lucien’s position very much. “All fun and games in the club, but I’m not anyone’s therapist. You can’t accept you like dick? Not worthy of mine.”
“You know I used to be closeted, right?”
“I know - he chuckled - but I met you when you’d already accepted that and from what you told me it was quite a fast process.”
“Easy when you don’t have anyone to disappoint with your sexuality” Rhys answered, but his laugh was not amused. It was true, though: he’d discovered that about himself quite late, but he’d decided pretty quickly that living a lie wasn’t worth it.
“So, do you think he’ll come back?” asked Lucien.
“I don’t know. I hope he does… he’s sexy, attractive, well-mannered, who wouldn’t want him as a regular?”
“A regular? Those are rare, Rhysie boy.”
“But he’s loaded. If he wants to become a regular, he absolutely can and I’ll be happy to wiggle my ass for him as long as he pays.”
“And what about the unpaid section?” inquired Lucien. “I would let him see me wiggle in my room.”
“Oh, that too. I’d like to test your antler theory in my bed.” Just the idea of that powerful body in his bed with him almost made him shiver and conjure very interesting positions he could enjoy with him. Certain fae found it disgusting to have certain animal traits, but Rhys found it fascinating. His bat wings were very sensible, a full-on erogenous zone, that allowed him a unique experience that other did not have access to. Lucien got a real high from ear scratches and certain smells. They’d explored that dynamic thoroughly together, many many times. Lucien wasn’t only a work partner, he’d become a regular in Rhys’s bed, like an added layer of intimacy to their friendship that neither of them cared too much to explore. It was soothing and fun, the best way to get rid of pent up energy and enjoy the comfort of someone else’s touch. “Do you think the antlers are somehow sensible?” he asked.
“Maybe, I don’t know. I once slept with a dragon shifter and they had this big pair of horns. The base was quite sensible, but not enough to be a form of stimulation. If Tamlin had a tail, though… that would be interesting. ”
“Do we know what he is, even?”
“His name is Spring, so I would say Spring Fae, so he could be chimeric.”
“Never saw one naked, unfortunately.”
“Not yet, Rhys, not yet. Next time he comes in, I want his number.”
Rhys nodded and crumpled the napkin of his finished dinner. “Agreed. I hope I get to have it, too, though. I don’t want to be jealous of you.”
Lucien seemed to think about it for a second. “The choice is his, Rhys. I cannot decide for him to have both of us in his bed…”
That made him smile and he felt a nice warmth spread to his cheeks. “Would like to share him, with me?” he asked, feigning shyness.
“As if we haven’t already” Lucien smirked. “And those are some of the best night I can remember. Would you have a problem with sharing?”
Rhys shook his head. “Absolutely not, that would make him even hotter. I hope he likes the idea, too.” His mental picture blurred for a second and then came back with a new character in it. Lucien, in all his naked glory, tail out, enjoying the tumble in the sheets, licking, nipping and touching them both. It was a sinful image that he almost licked his lips.
“Are you thinking about it?” whispered Lucien. Rhys didn’t need to check to know he was probably blushing, too.
“Of course. And it’s not helping me winding down.” His pants were becoming tighter by the second, just when he’d managed to relax after being in a constant state of semi all evening from all the staring and rubbing at work. The slightest scrape of the fabric on him made him hiss. “It’s all your fault, Luce.” They both laughed and Lucien pointed at his own crotch. “Sharing the pain, sorry Rhysie.”
Lucien’s fox pupils dilated at the scent of Rhys’s arousal that he inhaled deeply before groaning and sitting more comfortably on the car seat, leaning back just enough to lower his sweatpants and put a hand in. “Are you just going to rub it here?!” asked Rhys.
“The parking lot is empty and we are both hard. It’s not like it’s news,” the fox hissed, pumping slowly. Rhys could see the outline of his partner’s cock and hand under the fabric. Not seeing directly was almost worse and made it more obscene. He was almost ready to start the car to startle him when Lucien made eye contact with him and he was lost. He just mirrored his pose and movements, opening his jeans and helping himself to relief the pressure that was building in him. Fae were very sexual creatures, notoriously, some more than others, and fae from the Illyrian Mountain Range counted among those. Paired with Lucien’s parted lips and soft groans it was irresistible.
He gave one last look out of the window to make sure no one was there, one last moment of awareness before slipping his hand under the elastic band of his boxers and palming his length. Lucien knew perfectly what he’d caused and smiled with his pointy teeth looking at him directly in his eyes. It often was like this.
“You really like doing this is the most inappropriate moments” he told the other, without losing his rhythm. The fox’s laugh turned into a soft breath as he kept working himself. “I like to keep you on your toes, makes it fun”. Lucien loved fun and definitely loved unconventional spaces. Staring fueled each other’s pleasure. Rhys could feel Lucien’s roving eyes on him, registering his expression and the small tells he knew so well. The other’s fae ears quivered every time he twisted his hand in a specific way and Rhys saw them shiver when he licked his own lips. The fox fae was responsive to that kind of suggestive play, to the thrill of doing things on a whim and then laughing about it, and Rhys was sucker for that. He also liked the way Lucien could just lean on the pleasure he wanted from life. He envied that about him until he’d learnt it from him.
“You’re the worst,” breathed Rhys, squeezing hard in tandem with him, but it was impossible to mean it. He just kept going, chasing his pleasure to the beat of Lucien’s panting, as he was sure he was doing the same. Lucien moaned softly, closing his eyes for a second, his expression so debauched it made Rhys want to reach out and be the cause of that face. It was a split second decision. He quickly disentangled from his seat and shifted so to be able to crawl over to Lucien’s. He straddled him to the best of his abilities (counted the crammed space), half sitting on his haunches and steadying himself not to crush the other with one hand on the seat next to the fox’s head. Lucien’s eyes widened and he kissed him deeply. The kiss tasted so Lucien, despite what they’d just eaten, and the fur that lined the side of his face caressed him. But the kiss didn’t stop them, they resumed their shared panting right after breaking the kiss, so close that Rhys could feel Luce’s hand moving in front of him and the heat radiating from his body.
“You’re close” not a question but a statement rolled from his tongue in a whisper. Lucien bit his bottom lip, nodded, and pumped faster, without losing eye-contact. “Come closer” he said with a strangled tone. Rhys was keeping himself on the edge by sheer force of will through long and deep strokes, but he didn’t know how long he would last. Lucien’s request sounded a lot like a promise. He tried getting closer, lowering himself more on him. With his free hand, Lucien took his wrist and Rhys almost protested at the loss of pleasure, but then also his partner let go and used both hands to make their hips collide. Sparks of pure pleasure shot from the point of contact and the two moaned together.
The cue was clear. Rhys started grinding their hips together until he felt the pleasure cresting and then he was falling. Lucien not far behind as he tensed and released with a choked moan spilling in his pants. Rhys was overcome by a sense of pure bliss and lightheadedness, melting against Lucien’s chest, heaving just like him.
Lucien laughed:“Wow, at least you offered me dinner before.”
Just like last time, I have a deadline and no motivation whatsoever to translate what I need to translate. Last time I did this, self motivation actually worked.
I think posting my progress, even if my conscious brain knows no one will see this, makes me feel perceived enough to focus.
On an average day this would be a good amount to translate. But not today. Today I am late. Let's round up at least 1000 more.
FUN FACT! Because entertainment is also important:
I hate it when authors of historical novels use incorrect terminology or create anachronisms. What do you mean the protagonist sees a clipper boat in the year 1200? They were popular in the 1800s.
In Britain.
The support from all of you made me want to show everyone I could really do it. I was tired, I mainly translated late at night, which is not my forte, but I did it anyways.
It was only 2 chapters, and I still have 4 batches to go, but I was in a deep translation slump, I had writer's block but with translation. It's an odd place to be in, like I know I can understand both languages but I cannot make them communicate.
So thank you 💛 I will probably celebrate with a little Doodle and Drabble fest on here!
Just like last time, I have a deadline and no motivation whatsoever to translate what I need to translate. Last time I did this, self motivation actually worked.
I think posting my progress, even if my conscious brain knows no one will see this, makes me feel perceived enough to focus.
On an average day this would be a good amount to translate. But not today. Today I am late. Let's round up at least 1000 more.
FUN FACT! Because entertainment is also important:
I hate it when authors of historical novels use incorrect terminology or create anachronisms. What do you mean the protagonist sees a clipper boat in the year 1200? They were popular in the 1800s.
In Britain.
Just like last time, I have a deadline and no motivation whatsoever to translate what I need to translate. Last time I did this, self motivation actually worked.
I think posting my progress, even if my conscious brain knows no one will see this, makes me feel perceived enough to focus.
On an average day this would be a good amount to translate. But not today. Today I am late. Let's round up at least 1000 more.
FUN FACT! Because entertainment is also important:
I hate it when authors of historical novels use incorrect terminology or create anachronisms. What do you mean the protagonist sees a clipper boat in the year 1200? They were popular in the 1800s.
In Britain.
Just like last time, I have a deadline and no motivation whatsoever to translate what I need to translate. Last time I did this, self motivation actually worked.
I think posting my progress, even if my conscious brain knows no one will see this, makes me feel perceived enough to focus.
On an average day this would be a good amount to translate. But not today. Today I am late. Let's round up at least 1000 more.
FUN FACT! Because entertainment is also important:
I hate it when authors of historical novels use incorrect terminology or create anachronisms. What do you mean the protagonist sees a clipper boat in the year 1200? They were popular in the 1800s.
In Britain.
Created for the @acotargiftexchange 2025 edition for @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken aka Jane Dear.
Small towns are great for holidays, but despite being cozy, and snowy and romantic, they are terrible for romance! You know, limited choice and all that... Back in Mapleshade, Ianthe is hoping the romantic atmosphere will get her money or a husband, or both. Rhysand Knight would be the perfect rich husband, but he definitely has other plans with the last person anyone would expect.
Also on AO3
THE LIST (under the break):
Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
I think fanfiction as a medium is different enough from mainstream literature in the tools it offers writers that it's a shame that it's not talked about more often. And it's not me saying "fanfic is better than books xD" because that sort of mindset is a symptom of people who aren't particularly well read in either medium. I'm just speaking of like... The little things you get to do with a fanfic that you genuinely can't really do in an original story.
I had a big fanfic in a previous fandom where one of the big reveals was the involvement of a kind of infamous villain, whose presence was built up to and foreshadowed through the whole fic until his reveal without ever mentioning his name, so that the name drop would be a gut punch. It worked especially well because of who the villain was and his presence in that fandom space specifically (it's very complicated) and if it was an original story this reveal wouldn't work at all the way it was written in the fic. Because if you don't have a predisposition to think about that character and his relationship to the hero in a very specific way, then just seeing their name won't do much to you; the reveal and the recontextualisation it pushes upon you hinges on your previous knowledge of the source material.
I think it's an interesting tool fanfic authors are given. One of my favorite fanfic of all time is partially a re-imagining of its source material's canon, and something it does is introduce antagonists much earlier in the story or deepen npcs' stories. It then works to evoke a tragic irony that again wouldn't work if you didn't know the source material, and it's something the author obviously has a lot of fun with.
You could call it cheap or a crutch and I mean, yeah, sure, it is a little bit: the fanfic relies on previously established emotional bonds and stakes to achieve its goal, and in some cases it saves the author from having to 'properly' build up its stakes. But I think it's INTERESTING that it has that tool at its disposal. I think it's a fun thing to play with and I think these built in expectations and emotional bonds are especially why I find story driven aus in particular to be fascinating in the amount of ways you can play with them. You know??
Just like last time, I have a deadline and no motivation whatsoever to translate what I need to translate. Last time I did this, self motivation actually worked.
I think posting my progress, even if my conscious brain knows no one will see this, makes me feel perceived enough to focus.
On an average day this would be a good amount to translate. But not today. Today I am late. Let's round up at least 1000 more.
FUN FACT! Because entertainment is also important:
I hate it when authors of historical novels use incorrect terminology or create anachronisms. What do you mean the protagonist sees a clipper boat in the year 1200? They were popular in the 1800s.
In Britain.
