When Zayn Malik left his office at half past five that afternoon, he couldn't help but admit how relieved he was. He'd been given the task of organising all the progress charts from the previous years work, and the young man had seen so many bar charts and graphs that he thought all he could see when he blinked was red and blue bar charts or yellow and green coloured scatter graphs. It was an absolute bore to him, but, his Father's proud smile after Zayn had finished was enough to tell him how much of a good job he'd done. Zayn craved his Father's approval when working, and when he got it, it was the best feeling in the world.
But now, as he was sat cramped inbetween his excitable Irish friend and another one of their workmates, he couldn't help but send a silent prayer to pray to take him back to the tedious charts instead of being here. All he could smell was alcohol, sweat, and an occasional sniff of copper coins seemed to hit him every other moment. If his parents knew that he was here, he'd be in such big trouble it wouldn't even be funny. It didn't matter if he was a twenty-year-old man; he was still scared of getting in trouble.
"That one, that one! He's so hot!" Niall James Horan screamed, standing up in excitement and causing Zayn to jolt forwards into the small brown table they were sat around, the half empty pint glasses on it all jingling together like cheap bells.
"Damn it, Niall..." Zayn growled, sitting back and hoping that the dark lighting of the club would hide how much he was really blushing. He was in pure hell, and he was hating every second of it. Niall sat back down chuckling loudly, as his hands loosened his tie.
"I come in here so much and pay him £50 each time that I swear he's started to remember me." Niall burst out laughing, before taking a large gulp of his pint. Only the Lord knew how many Niall had already had before.
"I'm sure he tells all his clients that, Niall." Zayn grumbled, leaning back and rolling his eyes, before pulling out his blackberry to check his emails when Niall's large hand swooped in and took it from him.
"No work, Zayn! We came here for fun! Do you even know what that is?" Niall asked with a sly, drunk, smile. Zayn rolled his eyes and tugged his blackberry back into his hands.
"It's definitely not some dodgy strip club, Niall." Zayn sighed, before checking his emails hoping that some client was trying to get in touch, or his Dad had some sort of errand for him to run. Of course, his emails were blank. He would not be saved from this grotty little building tonight.
"Yes it is! I'm going to get you shots, hold on..." Niall jumped up onto his feet again, his buff body resembling more of a Bambi on ice than an Irish businessman who goes to the gym more than twice a week. Zayn rolled his eyes, burying his face into his hands, praying that an email will come through. His brown eyes were stuck to the phone screen, waiting, watching, hoping.
The sound of clinking glasses brought Zayn's gaze away from his phone, but the minute he saw Niall shoving a tray full of clear shot glasses, filled with liqueurs of all colours, Zayn rolled his eyes and glanced back down at his phone. The last thing he was going to do was drink right now. As if his parents would be mad enough as it is, if they found out he was here, but they'd truly cut him to pieces and throw him to the dogs if they found him drinking.
He was allowed the odd glass of scotch in his Father's office after a successful meeting, but anything other than that was seen as forbidden. Zayn didn't mind alcohol, he'd just rather it be a glass of wine in the safety of his apartment, rather than a bright blue shot in a strip club.
"Zayn," Niall's Irish voice started up once more, but Zayn was all but too quick to shut him off.
"Nope. Not drinking." Zayn scowled, his voice stern and harsh, treating Niall like one of the teenage interns that tended to follow him round from time to time rather than one of his business partners in the firm. This didn't seem to discourage Niall.
"Take one, ya sourpuss, we won't let you leave until you've atleast gotten off with someone." Niall demanded, throwing his body heavily back onto the small leather sofa, squished next to Zayn's body.
Zayn groaned and ignored him, leaning back on the leather sofa, completely aware of the awful smell that arose from it. A fumbling hand grabbed his tie and yanked him back forward, causing Zayn to choke and cough.
"Niall! This is Hugo Boss!" Zayn hissed, quickly hitting out at the drunken idiot beside him, who almost choked him.
Niall simply laughed, placing his hand on Zayn's shoulder before lifting one of the colourful shots to his lips. Zayn kept his lips pressed together tightly, his chocolate brown eyes scowling into Niall's own sky blue crystals.
"One drink. They taste good." Niall spoke, still pressing the small glass into Zayn's closed lips. Zayn pushed his arm away.
"I've drank before, Niall, but I'm not drinking now." Zayn replied once again, and Niall rolled his eyes once again.
"Is it because you don't trust yourself with all these hot, practically naked, well hung,"
"Niall!" Zayn quickly cut in, as his cheeks started to flame up with a rosy red colour from his friend's foul mouth.
His brown eyes looked around the strip club, and as his brown eyes clicked onto all of the oiled up men that were walking around in all sorts of tiny, poor excuses of material around their crotches. There was even a guy on the stage in a builder's hat. That was exactly the reason why Zayn was refusing to drink.
"You have one, and I'll look after you, I'm not drinking anymore after this, bro." Niall told him, even though the Irish man knew that he wouldn't leave until he had another two pints atleast. Zayn looked over him with serious eyes, to see if what Niall meant was true. He was starting to think that maybe if he had one or two drinks, Niall would get off his back; especially if he wasn't going to drink anymore.
"One!" Niall pestered, pushing the small glass to Zayn's lips again like some sort of small child.
Zayn let out a ragged sigh and took the shot glass in one of his hands, letting the other slip his blackberry into the inside pocket of his expensive suit, before he shot the blue liquid into his mouth quickly. He could feel it simmering as it fell down his throat, and couldn't help but wince.
"Jeez, what is this?" Zayn asked quickly, his brow a straight frown as he tried to get over the aftershock of the liquid he'd just downed.
He clinked the now empty glass onto the table before looking up at Niall, who was smiling widely.
"I asked for something to loosen someone up, the bartender told me this was practically a lap dance in a glass." Niall smiled widely, before he pushed another to Zayn, before offering his own out to cheers to him.
Zayn rolled his eyes, promising himself it would be the last one, before he picked it up and clinked the glasses together, before the liquid in the two glasses vanished, now melting down the boy's throats, and preparing to control their minds.
"I can't handle another," Zayn started, as the back of his throat started to feel like it was burning, but Niall pushed another into his hands anyway.
His concentration on his throat caused Zayn to not realise that he was about to accidentally take another shot. He just thought it was a glass of water; water in a shot glass. He took the shot before he realised, and almost threw the glass at Niall.
"God damn!" Zayn winced, his eyes almost watering. How did people drink this stuff? It was truly the most awful thing he'd ever drank in his whole life, but, even though it was the worst, it was the first drink to get him this drunk, this quick.
Before no time at all, Zayn was leaning against Niall's body, two shot glasses in his hands, one half empty, one completely empty.
"This shit is good!" Zayn whined, before bringing the half empty shot towards him, clumsily letting some of the liquid fall onto his fresh white shirt in the process. His expensive jacket was now forgotten and being sat on, by both him and Niall.
"I told ya, Zee! I told ya! You just never listen to me...drink this, no," Niall started to ramble, adding in what he thought was Zayn's voice and accent in places where it was needed.
Zayn zoned out, and continued to drink the shot before he placed both the empty shot glasses onto the table, letting his head flop into the crook of Niall's shoulder. Zayn had never drunk something so strong so quick, and like everyone with their first alcoholic drink, it quickly started to set in.
"My eyelids can't stay open...oh gosh, I hope they're okay..." Zayn spoke up, trying to keep his eyes wide open, even though his eyelids felt heavier than concrete. It was soon unravelling that Zayn was a very tiring drunk.
"Don't fall asleep! Get a blowjob, they always wake you up! Excuse me!" Niall yelled loudly, before he shot up onto his feet, causing Zayn to tumble over once again.
Zayn's head had hit the warm leather where Niall's bum had been. The raven haired boy would have recognised the stench of the leather if it wasn't for his damn eyelids trying to close on him. He just couldn't stay awake for the life of him.
"Zayn, get up, we need to find you a cute stripper to fuck." Niall spoke eagerly, pulling on Zayn's shoulders to pull his friend up. Zayn shook his head and let out a string of mumbled curses.
"I will not fuck some stripper!" Zayn whined, before he slowly sat up, trying to prise open his eyes once more. Niall laughed loudly and sat down next to him once again.
"Just cause you're scared! What's the worst that could happen, you've kissed guys before!" Niall shrugged him off, flapping his hand to dismiss Zayn's protests. Zayn blushed once again, and his hand snaked over to one of the last remaining shots, where he brought it to his lips and threw it back.
"Accidentally..." Zayn admitted, as his mind reflected on the awkward moment where he had fallen onto a cute accountant, and had somehow managed to give him a soft kiss as he did so.
It was his first week, and he had fallen over his own lost feet as it happened. That was the only ever slither of a love life that Zayn had ever had. All throughout school and work, there had always been something more important. Plus, his heavily religious Mother never failed to let him forget about the possible arranged marriage she wanted him to have. It seemed that his parents had his life planned out, but he was fine with that, he just wanted to make them happy.
"Yeah well same thing! Just get some cock already, jeez, you make me feel old." Niall commented, as his blue eyes scanned over every half naked male that was walking around the club.
Zayn's eyes started to close again as loud music seemed to boom through the club. His chest felt like it was vibrating due to the amount of bass flooding through him.
"That makes no sense, Niall..." Zayn mumbled, before he forced himself to lean forward, his elbows on the sticky wooden table as his eyes reopened.
His chocolate coloured eyes fell straight onto a singular figure on the small stage. The cheeky grin with a dimple each side seemed to light up the dimly lit club, and as the various coloured lights flashed onto the male, Zayn could see each curve and crevice of the boy's torso and arms.
Small black shorts, clinging to the boy's behind, and matching black boots. There was a policeman's hat placed on top of an unruly mess of brunette curls, giving the somewhat sexy boy an innocent look, which seemed to drive the customers and clientele insane. The boy pulled a pair of handcuffs from out of the tight black shorts, earning cheers from the rabble of men around him.
"Gentlemen," His voice was rough, but laced with a playful tone, reflected by the cheeky grin slapped on his face, "I hope you're on your best behaviour."
His words seemed to entwine the audience members in his web, as he span the handcuffs around on his index finger, while his other brought the police hat away from his eyes, revealing a couple of emeralds which were glancing over each audience member.
"Fuck." Zayn drunkenly groaned, before he reached over and tugged on Niall's arms, even though Niall hit his face, his blue eyes watching the curly haired boy eagerly.
The music hit, the bass dropping, and the curly haired boy did his dance, sliding around the poles and working the audience. He threw winks and giggles to the chanting men, and let out some sort of excited cry everytime notes were hurled at him after a particularly slow booty pop. The boy seemed to know when to switch on the innocence, and then the serious money collecting. Zayn looked down at his crotch, his head feeling dizzy from doing so.
"Niall!" Zayn whined, wanting nothing more than for someone to hold his heavy head and protect him from the loud bass. Niall looked around and shushed him, pushing another drink his way before the Irish boy turned around to look back at the curly haired attraction on the stage, who was now toying with his audience.
Suddenly, a hand swooped from nowhere and took hold of Niall's chin, forcing the Irish boy to look up at an excited looking young man, wearing nothing but some army dog tags, a white tank top, with some loose denim shorts and a camouflage jacket that was cut off by the sleeves, revealing two very toned and bulging biceps.
"This is the first time I've ever seen you distracted, blondie." His words came.
They were deep and rough, and framed with a smirk. Niall looked up at the boy and blushed a little, his blue eyes looking over every aspect of his face. The army boy looked over at Zayn and tilted his head to the side slightly.
"You brought the office tonight...are these your little friends, Niall?" The army boy asked, his voice thick with seduction as he looked back to Niall, chewing slightly on gum as he looked over his face. Niall nodded, and Zayn started to giggle as he saw how tongue tied Niall had become.
"The army boy knows your name! You told a stripper your name, just don't tell him your credit card details." Zayn quipped, the alcohol bringing out his inner wit, which wasn't seen very much at any other time. The army boy laughed, the corner of his brown eyes crinkling.
"He tells me quite a lot, actually," The army boy started, his thumb placed over Niall's pinks lips, "His sweet spots, what he likes, his kinks. He looks cute now, but wait till you see him on the edge, when he's pleading for you to finish him off."
Niall blushed the deepest type of red humanly possible, and Zayn looked up at the stripper, trying to process how straightforward he was. That was a lot of naughtiness in one sentence, Zayn acknowledged. The army boy simply giggled.
"Pick me up round our corner, Niall. Don't bring brown eyes." Army boy told him, before he ran his fingers down the side of Niall's jaw and through his blonde hair as he walked away from the table. The last thing Zayn remembered after that, was the smug smile on Niall's face and then another round of intoxicating drinks.
A/N: Hello beauties!
This is a little something I wrote back when DoD was on the go, always planned but I never got around to it, until now. It'll be a short story, but I'm really excited to start with my plans for it. Hope you all enjoy it Fluffballs x