Chapter Text
“Ivo! C’mon, you goddamn workaholic. Can’t you spend one night away from the lab, especially for something like this?” That loony physicist who worked down the hall had half his body leaning against Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s doorway. Ivo made a low, frustrated growl in the back of his throat. This was the fourth time today that some lowlife had bombarded him with an invitation to the Commander's farewell party at the tavern tonight.
“Listen to me closely, Dr. Harmon, because I’ve already said it three other times to your peers. I would rather ingest plague-ridden carrion than go to any sort of debauched function for Walters,” Ivo said, turning abruptly and pointing a pair of pliers directly at the man’s head. He cranked back his arm and whipped the tool across the room, getting it to stick solidly into the drywall beside the doorway. The man yelped and jumped away, scurrying back down the hall to his own lab.
The Commander was finally retiring, much to Ivo’s relief. Years of working under the same harebrained half-wit had jaded Ivo toward anything having to do with the man.
“ But it’ll be fun! They’re saying they bought almost all of Spider’s crew for it. Won’t that be a hoot?! ” one of his colleagues had told him earlier. That solidified in his mind that he would definitely not enjoy such a soirée. Because why on earth would he leave his important work for some tryst with a bunch of dancing prostitutes?
The other scientists and officials working in the facility were always going on and on about Spider, who was some pimp from the other side of town, and his little gaggle of whores that put on shows at the nearby tavern. Ivo didn’t have the faintest desire to see such a thing.
Suddenly, the buzzing lightbulbs above began to flicker, before going out entirely, plunging his lab into darkness. He threw down the device in his hand that he had been busy rewiring before stomping out to the hall. He knew stuff like this only happened when his coworkers were messing with him. Which occurred quite often…
“Okay, let it all out! Get all the laughs out of your system. Ha, ha, it’s so funny to impede Dr. Robotnik’s hard work for a common children’s prank! There, are you happy?” Ivo yelled into the dusky hallway. Immediately, all the lights flickered back on, revealing quite a large group of his colleagues, all bunched together, a few with apologetic looks on their faces. The same man who he had just thrown a pair of pliers at stepped forward from the pack.
“Ivo. This is an intervention,” the man said quietly, a grim look on his face. The silence went on for about a second too long before the entire group burst out laughing. Ivo’s face scrunched up in annoyance at having his time wasted like this.
“No, but seriously, when was the last time you did anything other than work and go home? We’re not leaving until you say you’ll come out tonight,” the physicist said, crossing his arms over his chest in what was probably an attempt at looking intimidating. Ivo pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, extremely upset that he was having to deal with these juvenile idiots.
“I am on the verge of a breakthrough, I don’t have time–”
“Yeah, a breakthrough , for a project no one asked you to work on,” he heard someone else say quietly, which made the whole group erupt into giggles. Ivo gritted his teeth. He was currently working on a personal project that all of his peers thought was a huge waste of time.
Well, I’ll show them…
“If I go to this thing, none of you dimwits are allowed to bother me for the rest of the week, and I mean it!” Ivo growled, clenching his jaw when that elicited some cheers from the group. “ And , I may be coming to this sickening little function, but I will not be participating in any sort of activity. I will sit in the corner with my list of formulas that I need to complete, and all of you will leave me the hell alone. Is that understood?!” he finished, glaring daggers at each person he could make eye contact with.
Harmon rolled his eyes, waving some of the others away. “Fine, Ivo. We’re just trying to get you to have a good time. What’s the harm in that?” the man said, smiling sadly. The group dispersed, leaving Ivo by himself. He scrubbed at his face, his eyes tired and irritated.
I guess I’m going to the goddamn tavern…
~~~
Ivo entered the seedy little pub about an hour or two after he’d ended his work day. The place had been privately reserved for this party, and it was just crawling with scientists and military officials. He stopped at the bouncer, flashing his security badge to show he was an employee at G.U.N. The large man waved him in, and Ivo made a beeline for an empty table in the furthest corner away from the bar and stage. He dropped a folder onto the table, filled to the brim with blueprints and formulas that he desperately needed to catch up on.
As he sank down into the uncomfortable, wooden chair, his eyes raked over the crowd. He saw Commander Walters all decked out in his military uniform up by the stage, surrounded by a couple of his right-hand men, and another man Ivo had never seen before. He was a gaunt, pale man with long, greasy black hair, and his outfit was positively abhorrent. If Ivo was skinny, this man was actively withering away.
Without even needing a description of the man, he knew this was Spider that everyone talked about. He was decked out in a black dress shirt and slacks, a furry, brown coat that looked like it might still move if you touched it wrong, and a fedora. His black shades rested low on his nose, and he held a nicely carved wooden cane in his right hand. When Ivo thought about what the scourge of the earth looked like, it was this kind of person that usually popped into his head.
The fact that the people he worked with actively did business with a man like that disgusted him. It only fueled his desire to create something that could combat that kind of behavior. He turned his attention to his sheet full of formulas, pulling a pencil from his jacket pocket to continue working on it.
After about twenty minutes of people mingling about, the lights dimmed slightly, and a busty, middle-aged woman in an inappropriate outfit hopped up on stage, egging on the raucous applause of the crowd. Ivo sighed, setting his pencil down and watching with zero interest since the noise was far too great to concentrate.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please! I know I’m pretty, but not all at once!” the woman said into a standing microphone. This, of course, gave way to more cheering. Ivo already wanted to slam his head against the wall.
“Alright, alright, simmer down. We’ve got a lovely show for ya tonight, in honor of the great Commander Walters!” she announced, saying Walters’ name like she was introducing a professional wrestler. A chorus of barking started from somewhere close to the front of the stage, probably all of Walters’ buddies.
“Our lovely ladies and gentlemen have been practicing this number for you all week, and we have a very special solo performance from one of our most popular fellows. Please welcome the entertainers of Spider’s Web to the stage, performing Bring on the Men !” she cheered, jumping off stage. The curtain’s opened, revealing a pyramid of younger men and women alike posing, all in some of the most scandalous clothing Ivo had ever seen. The roar of the crowd was almost unbearable, and it went on for far too long.
Finally, the cheers and whoops began to peter out when everyone realized the show wasn’t going to start until they all shut up. All the performers were dressed mostly in reds and blacks, everything skin-tight and revealing. They held their poses until it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Then, the pyramid of people split in half, revealing a man lounging in a chair with crushed, red velvet cushions.
The crowd went insane.
Ivo studied the man. He was on the older end of the age range of the performers, but that didn’t make him any less scandalously dressed. He wore a red corset with black frills at the edges, with a red miniskirt to match. Strappy, shiny black heels wound their way up his calves. His hair was jet black, neatly cropped at the sides. And even though Ivo was pretty far from the stage, he could see the black eyeliner and deep red lipstick that the man wore.
He sat there looking pretty while he waited patiently for the crowd to settle, looking at his manicured, black nails as if he had better things to do. For some reason, Ivo felt far more interested in the star performer than all of the others. He didn’t know if it was his demeanor, but it somewhat captivated him.
And then, as soon as the room went silent, he started to sing.
“There was a time, I don't know when
I didn't have much time for men
But this is now and that was then, I'm learning”
He had a clean, clear voice that turned raspy on the lower notes. Every single person in that room was drawn in, completely focused on the man on stage, who was crossing his legs over the armrest of his chair, leaning back so his head was dangling off the other side.
“A girl alone, all on her own
Must try to have a heart of stone”
He winked at the audience on the last line, his hand settling on his own chest, flashing a pearly white smile.
“So I try not to make it known, my yearning”
He stood from the chair suddenly, strutting around to stand behind it. He kept his back turned for a moment, letting the crowd ogle his body. Ivo looked away, his face flushed. He wasn’t sure why.
“I try to show I have no need
I really do– I don’t succeed…”
He paused for a few seconds, just long enough to build anticipation. Even Ivo was focused solely on this man, his papers abandoned to the side.
“So… let’s… BRING… ON the men!
And let the fun begin
A little touch of sin
Why wait another minute?”
The music took on an upbeat tone, the tempo speeding up significantly. All the performers on stage who had been frozen during the first verse broke into dance, posing sensually as the man sang his heart out. Ivo looked around at the crowd, everyone clapping in time with the beat.
“Ivo!”
The doctor yelped, startled by the hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around, finding Dr. Harmon standing next to him. He had a half-empty mug of beer sloshing around in his left hand, and Ivo carefully positioned himself as far away from it as possible.
“The hell do you want, Harmon? Didn’t you come here specifically to see the show?” Ivo shouted, having to yell over the music so the other man could hear him.
Harmon started laughing, a drunken guffaw. “Aw, no one comes here just to see the show. It’s the afterparty, that’s where all the fun is,” the man giggled. He pointed a shaky finger up at the singer on stage. “I’d kill to get my hands on that little minx, but he’s a bit exclusive.”
As soon as Ivo looked up at the stage again, he caught the eye of the singer, who was about to finish the chorus. They locked into a deep eye contact before the man on stage made a come-hither motion with his finger, a shy grin on his face. Harmon gasped beside him.
“Oh my god, Ivo, we have to go up there!” Harmon squealed, the man latching onto Ivo’s arm and yanking him toward the stage. Ivo began objecting, digging his heels into the floor, but the people around them started cheering and hooting, shoving them along even faster. The two wound up right beside the stage, next to Walters and his group of lackeys.
The taunts and jibes from the men around him were making Ivo want to curl into a ball and disappear. Harmon would not let go of his arm, and he was essentially pinned in place as other people filled in around him.
A collective “Ooooo!” rang out from the crowd around him as the lead performer sauntered his way to the edge of the stage, right in front of where Ivo was standing. He had paused his singing after finishing the chorus, waiting for his target to approach before continuing on to the second verse.
The man lowered himself so he was sitting on the edge of the stage, his legs swinging right in front of the doctor. Ivo felt his face burn at all the unwanted attention– the cheers of his coworkers egging this behavior on were really grating on his nerves.
Up close, the performer was even more dazzling than Ivo could’ve ever have hoped to make out from the back of the bar. He could see the glitter on his eyelids, and a shimmering gold sheen that had been sprayed on his shoulders and clavicle to make him sparkle that much more. His clear, satiny brown skin was flawless, and Ivo noticed a subtle teardrop microphone resting delicately on his forehead.
The man smirked at Ivo, hooking a boot-clad leg over one of the doctor’s shoulders, drawing him forward. Harmon finally let go of him, so Ivo had no excuse not to make a run for it as his coworker’s jeers became even louder. But something kept him locked in place, an incredulous look on his face as the man opened his mouth to continue his song.
“I always knew, I always said
That silk and lace in black and red
Will drive a man right off his head, it’s easy”
The man reached forward, rubbing the collar of Ivo’s coat between two fingers. And finally, Ivo understood what was going on. He was being used as a prop, his black and red coat fitting the lyrics of the song, just a part of the show. This man was playing the audience like a fiddle, like they could have a chance of winning his undivided attention if they could somehow aid his performance.
It was demeaning, and Ivo knew he would never hear the end of it at work. But even as he looked away with an eyeroll, those dainty fingers brushed his neck, and he felt his breath hitch. This was someone way out of his league, and he just couldn’t seem to pull off his indifferent, mildly annoyed facade.
The man seemed to realize that Ivo was uncomfortable, quickly swinging his leg away before tucking them both beneath himself, coming to a lounging kneel. He was still exuding sex in a way Ivo had not experienced before. The doctor couldn’t fathom how such a delectable creature was touching him, even if it was indirectly.
The man pulled back his hand, fully reclining himself until he was lying on the edge of the stage with his head dangling off the side. He held the back of his hand to his forehead, mimicking an “Oh woe is me!” expression.
“So many men, so little time
I want them all. Is that a crime?
The entire bar shouted a resounding “No!” at the rhetorical question, the man on stage huffing with a fake sigh of relief.
“I don't know why they say that I'm too easy
They make me laugh, they make me cry
They make me sick, so God knows why”
The singer winked at Ivo with a coy, toothy grin. Before the man could go into the chorus again, Ivo finally found the willpower to turn on his heel and rush back to his spot at the back of the tavern where he belonged. Of course, on his way back, he was slapped on the back and nudged with elbows, low whistles following his every move.
It was humiliating.
He sat down in that awful wooden chair with a flustered huff, trying to ignore the rest of the song. Not that he was very successful, the lyrics in the second half being full of extremely suggestive innuendos that made his ears burn. He scribbled absentmindedly in his folder, glancing up as the group finished out the final chorus in a line of high kicks, the singer ending the song with an impressive split. Ivo could’ve sworn the man had tossed a brief glance his way, but it had only lasted a second.
The curtain closed, and that woman from before bounced back onto the stage. Spider hopped up shortly after, the pimp waving off the barking that followed.
“Well, give a round of applause for Spider’s Web, gentlemen! And especially make some noise for our soloist, Stone!” the woman’s voice boomed. The tavern was in a frenzy, drinks sloshing around in everyone’s hands. Ivo narrowed his eyes.
Stone?
What a simple name for a man like that. He had expected something stereotypical, maybe Candy or Romeo. But Stone? And suddenly, that “heart of stone” line from earlier made a lot more sense, and why he had emphasized it.
The woman quickly announced that the performers would be out to mingle in about half an hour. The general din of the tavern started back up, and Ivo ran a hand through his mussed hair. A few drunken stragglers came up to his table to give him a slap on the back (which he not-so-kindly declined each time), but he was glad that most people seemed to be too half in the bag to say anything about what had just happened.
If I’m lucky, maybe they’ll all get so blackout drunk that they’ll forget the whole night.
Robotnik absently scribbled down some numbers that he had been crunching, his eyes continuing to wander toward the door next to the stage, where a few of the performers had been slowly trickling out from. He knew it was silly to want to see the singer again. Stone, if that’s really what his name was, was sure to get bombarded by all those horny, drunk men the second he stepped out into the main room. There was no point in even trying…
“Looking for me?”
Ivo startled, gasping as he dropped his pencil. He turned around to find the lead performer right beside him. He’d toned down his look a little, sporting a respectable pair of denim shorts and a deep purple crop top. His make-up was mostly still the same, though he’d wiped off the red lipstick. He was leaning his hip right against Ivo’s table, glancing down at the paper he was writing on.
Ivo immediately snatched up the piece of paper indignantly. How dare this whore call him out while trying to solicit him?
“You can just be on your way. I don’t require the kinds of services you’re offering,” Ivo sneered, shoving the paper back into the folder. Stone looked at him with a raised eyebrow, the edges of his lips beginning to quirk up.
“Now, who said I was offering? Awful presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” he said coyly, crossing his arms over his chest. Ivo felt his face flush slightly, clearing his throat before looking away. The doctor knew it had been a low thing to say, but he wasn’t too happy with the way this man involved him in his little song and dance number.
Stone cocked his head, scanning his eyes across the rest of the room. “Do you see anyone else in here wearing red and black? Trust me, I didn’t target you on purpose. You just… caught my eye,” he explained, gesturing toward the doctor’s coat. “You seemed nervous, so I toned it back. It could’ve been way worse than it ended up being,” he chuckled, settling his hand on the table and leaning his weight on it so his hip jutted out.
Ivo swallowed, narrowing his eyes at the man. He didn’t know quite what to make of him. He wasn’t some ditzy bimbo, that’s for sure. He’d had enough emotional intelligence to realize Robotnik had not been comfortable up by the stage. So what was his game?
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend,” Ivo said gruffly, scratching the back of his head. “So, you snuck around all of your adoring fans just to come… what, explain yourself to me?” the doctor asked, intrigued as to why he was pulling so much of this man’s attention. Stone just laughed, a genuine, mirthy giggle.
“Please. ‘Adoring fans’ is not how I’d describe this batch of limp dicks,” Stone said quietly, leaning down so he was closer to Ivo’s ear. “Half of these old bastards are so intimidated by me that they can’t even get it up when the time comes,” he confessed. Ivo covered his mouth, smothering a choked laugh. It shouldn’t have been funny; it was crude and mean. But it made sense.
“Well, you must hate having to chase after them, then. Isn’t that how you make money?” Ivo asked, suddenly wondering if he was delving into the wrong subject. But Stone just chucked, waving away the question like it was no big deal.
“You heard my name, right? Stone? It’s part of the facade. A real piece of me that just so happened to fit with the act,” he said, finally sinking down into the chair next to Ivo. “I’ve got a ‘heart of stone’, so to speak. Meaning, I don’t get too attached to clients. That’s my appeal. No one wants some sex-crazed tramp going after them all the time. My clients have to come to me,” Stone continued, flagging down one of the bartenders.
Ivo let that explanation settle while Stone ordered a drink. The man sitting in front of him wasn’t real. He was one big act, hiding away a true person underneath slutty clothes and sparkly make-up.
“So… why drop the act with me, then?” Ivo asked carefully after the bartender set down a dirty martini in front of Stone. He thanked the woman before carefully picking an olive off the toothpick to pop into his mouth, taking a sip of the clear, briny liquid to chase it.
He shrugged, lowering the glass. “I have a pretty good sense about people. You’re not into this scene like the rest of them. That’s admirable. Respectable. Wish I could escape it too, sometimes,” he said, the smile pretty much gone, replaced with a neutral, almost bored expression. He stirred the toothpick around his glass, watching the olives swirl about.
“But, I have a feeling I won’t be seeing you here again. One time outing, right?” Stone asked, rising from his chair. Ivo didn’t realize he had started nodding, he was so entranced by this conversation. It was a bit embarrassing to be so consumed by someone so seemingly benign.
“Yes, these ‘limp dicks’ as you so thoughtfully put it, dragged me here against my will. I will say, I didn’t think your song was terrible,” Ivo mumbled, fidgeting with his pencil. Stone’s smile slowly crept back on his face.
“My goodness, was that you trying to compliment me? That’s adorable,” Stone teased. Ivo rolled his eyes, turning away when he felt his face getting hot. Stone tsked, reaching over to hook a finger under the doctor’s chin, turning Ivo’s attention back toward him.
“It was sweet. Thank you,” he said quietly, his eyes scouring over Ivo’s features. “Well, as much as I don’t think it’s going to happen, I do hope to see you here again, Mister…” he began, fishing around in Ivo’s breast pocket for one of his business cards, plucking one out between two fingers with some embellishment. “Ah, sorry, Doctor Robotnik. Should’ve guessed. Though, you oughta brush up on your math. You were missing a decimal place from your last equation,” Stone said, pointing toward Ivo’s folder.
The doctor sputtered, flipping it open to stare at the page he had set on top. Sure enough, the answer he had circled was missing not one, but two decimal places. He huffed in annoyance, blaming it on being so distracted by all the noise. He looked back up to say something, only to find Stone was already wandering away, a simple wave being all the goodbye he was going to get before the man was pounced upon by two of Walters' cronies.
It shouldn’t have pained him to see the way Stone gushed and laughed as they started talking to him, how completely different he made himself when he was working. They fawned and doted over him, and he played into it. And when they led him over to the side exit, Ivo didn’t stay to see if they ever came back. He simply stood, picked up his things, and walked out of the tavern, with a solemn vow that he would never set foot back in that place ever again.