In the crowd alone
And every second passing reminds me I'm not home
Bright lights and city sounds are ringing like a drone
Unknown, unknown
Zayn squared his shoulders, straightening his hair as he stared into the mirrored wall of the lift. He raised his chin, schooling his features into a mask of indifference, grateful that the bump he'd done in the loo just off the lobby seemed to be doing its job. Energy thrummed through him, buzzing across his skin and sharpening his senses. All too soon he arrived on his floor, a quick glance at his phone reminding him of where he needed to head next.
He shook his head to vanquish the lingering reluctance he felt, purposefully forcing his movements to appear strong and confident and he walked down the brightly lit hallway. His lifted one side of his mouth into a lazy smirk as he raised his fist to knock on the door, but inside he felt the same rush of nerves that he always did.
This was the part of every date that he hated the most. The seconds before the moment of truth, when he had no idea who was standing on the other side of the door, or what they would want from him. More than once he'd begged Ana to get more information when she arranged the dates; to find out how old the john was, and whether they wanted Zayn on his hands and knees or tied to the bed; for him to be sweet and charming or rough and cocky.
But apparently it wasn't her place to ask such things up front, just as it wasn't Zayn's place to know what type of situation he was walking into. It was unsettling, never knowing if they'd want to chat him up a bit, pretending like it was a real date, or if they'd prefer to get straight to business, forcing Zayn to play into whatever fantasy they'd been harboring in the months it took for them to build up the courage to call the number on the little black card they'd been handed, their boss or roommate from uni or favorite bartender promising a night of discreet fun with no consequences.
Because that was what people wanted Zayn for. What they used him for; hours of pleasure without any repercussions on their daily lives; the only lasting effect the memories they'd use to get off for years to come while their unsuspecting wives slept next to them. And Zayn used them right back, soaking up their praise and lust and attention, spending their money and fucking away their hours as he pleased.
Zayn rapped on the door, three hard knocks whose echos were muffled by the lush carpet under his feet and the thick brocade wallpaper lining the walls. Zayn only met his clients at the best hotels in London, but he had to admit that this one was even nicer than most. He stood up a little straighter, fully aware of how beneficial another rich regular would be to his bank account as he bounced on the balls of his feet.
He'd just raised his hand to knock again when the door finally swung open. A man close to his own age filled the doorway, his shoulders broad beneath his crisp, black business suit. He wasn't much bigger than Zayn, but his presence made him seem larger than he was, his gaze firm and unforgiving as he looked Zayn up and down disinterestedly, taking in his black trousers and halfway unbuttoned white shirt, the tattoos lining his chest and the rings circling his fingers, his expression never changing.
Zayn couldn't tell if the man liked what he saw, but he knew that he did. The stranger before him was fit as fuck, his skin tan and his jaw sharp. Zayn's smirk turned into a genuine grin, the evening already looking up.
"I'm Zayn," he said, holding out a hand with an easy smile.
The man looked at the hand stretched between them for a moment before taking it in his own, his grip strong. "Liam," he said curtly, releasing Zayn's hand as soon as the word had passed his lips. He stepped back, allowing Zayn to enter. The room was huge, a wall of windows looking out over the heart of London, and Zayn could just make out Big Ben in the distance.
He let out a low whistle, walking towards the window to get a better look at the darkening sky. Dusk was rapidly falling, which meant that the city was just starting to come alive. "Gorgeous, innit?" he murmured, rocking back on his heels. Liam didn't answer him, and Zayn turned around to find him still watching him intently.
"I want you on the bed," Liam told him with no preamble.
Straight to business then.
Zayn nodded to show Liam that that was what he wanted too, his hands already finding the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one without taking his eyes off of Liam. Liam watched him right back, his stare steady and unwavering. He held himself very still, yet somehow managed to look completely relaxed, leaving Zayn in no doubt of who would be in charge tonight.
He let his shirt fall open once it was unbuttoned, then turned his back to Liam, shrugging out of it and letting it drop to the floor. He looked over his shoulder at him, expecting to see him right behind him, or maybe even reaching out to touch him. But instead he was already sitting down, on a love seat Zayn had overlooked before. It had been pulled away from the wall and positioned about a meter in front of the foot of the bed, and Liam was watching him from it, his arm slung casually over the back of it as he reached his other hand towards a tumbler on the side table. He cocked his head to the side, swilling the liquor in his glass but not taking a drink.
"You sure you don't want to join me over here?" Zayn asked coyly as he sat down on the bed, glancing down at the bedspread as he rubbed slow circles into the pattern, knowing how good he looked with his eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. He looked up from beneath them to see Liam's jaw twitch, his eyes hard as he stared at Zayn and said nothing.
Zayn felt a frisson of fear run through him, egged on by the coke and the dark look in Liam's eyes. He looked...dangerous. Predatory almost, and with a tickle of excitement Zayn wondered what was in store for him for the rest of the evening.
"Get yourself off," Liam ordered, his voice low enough that Zayn had to strain to hear him.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, not because he was trying to question the client's wishes, but because he was genuinely surprised by the request.
"I said," he started slowly, "I want you to get yourself off."
Zayn smiled to himself. He knew he could do this, confident that he'd have Liam begging him to ride him or suck him off in no time. He rose to his feet, kicking off his shoes as he watched Liam settle further back in his seat, his legs stretched out in front of him, knees spread.
Zayn moved his hands to his pants next, realizing with a start that he was already hard, Liam's forceful tone and unyielding gaze causing all of his blood to flow towards his center. He took his time pulling his zipper down, noting the way Liam's eyes followed the movement. He let his trousers fall to the floor, stepping out of them and pulling off his socks before standing up straight and facing Liam head on as he cupped himself over his black boxer briefs.
Liam's voice filled the quiet room, more booming than before. "Take them off."
"Yeah," Zayn breathed, trying not to show how affected he was. "Anything you want, Liam," he assured him, hooking his thumbs under the waistband and pushing them down. He wrapped a hand around himself immediately, his cock already so hot and hard against his palm.
"On the bed. Now."
Zayn knew that he needed to obey the order, though he was more inclined to head in the opposite direction. Liam looked so fucking good sitting like that, like he was a king on his throne surveying his castle, and Zayn wanted nothing more than to knock the drink out of his hand so that he could climb onto his lap and press against him. He knew that Liam had to be as hard as he was, and he wanted to feel him straining in his pants, to rock against him and make him moan.
But if Liam wanted him on the bed, he'd get on the bed. He sat down, scooting backwards until his back was against the headboard. He planted his feet on the comforter and split his knees, running his hands up and down his thighs. He knew exactly what Liam wanted, but he wanted to hear him beg for it. His cock lay against his stomach, arching up and leaking onto his abs as he teased himself, tweaking his nipples as he waited for Liam's next command.
But Liam was apparently a patient man - far more so than Zayn - content to watch from a distance as Zayn grew harder and harder under his steady gaze, until he couldn't resist sliding a hand between his legs, ghosting his fingers over his length as he watched Liam take a sip of his drink, the tip of his cock weeping when he noticed the tattoo darkening the back of Liam's hand for the first time.
He wondered what Liam looked like beneath that fancy suit. Whether his skin would be tan and unmarred, or if that tat was just the tip of the iceberg; a wild, colorful life hidden underneath a stiff facade. He could tell that Liam was fit, but he wanted to know how firm his muscles were, and if they'd flex under his fingers as he ran his hands along Liam's skin, tracing the lines of his body.
Zayn wanted to know how hard it would be to make Liam shiver, or sweat, or shake. To make him scream Zayn's name. It usually wasn't that difficult to make a client come undone, most of them so worked up by the time Zayn got to the door that all it took was a few expect flicks of his tongue or rolls of his hips before they were coming and swearing that he was the best they'd ever had. By the end of the second round Zayn usually had them on their knees for him, the tables turned as Zayn opened them up to a whole new world.
Somehow he didn't think it would be so easy with Liam. No, he didn't seem like the closet cases he usually got stuck with, every inch of him dripping with control and confidence, telling Zayn that there was nothing that he hadn't seen, or done. It made Zayn even harder, the desire to make Liam want him more than he'd ever wanted anyone else.
The lube Zayn had brought with him lay forgotten in his pocket, but he barely needed it, another pearl of precome leaking from his slit with every stroke. He moved his hand as slowly as he could manage as he felt need begin to build inside him, tamping down the impulse to increase his pace and his pleasure in favor of making it look good for Liam.
"You like this?" he asked him, swirling his thumb over the head of his cock, causing his breath to hitch. He moved his other hand up to his hair, threading his fingers through his quiff and tugging, his head falling back against the headboard as he imagined Liam doing the same to him. "Like watching me touch myself like this?"
Liam didn't answer, but Zayn swore his saw his grip tighten on his glass, and it made him squeeze his cock a little tighter, his strokes speeding up infinitesimally.
Jerking off like this - making it last, with Liam's eyes on him - felt fucking incredible. It had been a long time since Zayn had taken this much time to make himself come, instead of settling for a hurried wank in the shower, fucking into his fist hard and fast, and now he felt like he didn't want this to ever end, especially not with the way Liam was watching him. He felt like he couldn't stop, not until he made Liam feel as out of control as he did, his balls already starting to tighten as the promise of his orgasm trembled under his skin. But Liam, he still looked mostly unaffected, though he hadn't taken his eyes off of Zayn, not even for a second, and Zayn was fairly certain that his cheeks were a bit pinker than they'd been when he'd arrived, his eyes darker.
But he wanted to push him harder. To make Liam want him so much that he couldn't help but take him.
He forced his hand to slow down, tracing patterns over the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb as he brought his other hand up to his mouth, pushing two of his fingers past his lips and sucking on them, moving them in and out of his mouth wantonly, his eyes never leaving Liam's face, searching for any sign that he was into this. There was only the slightest hint that he was roused by what he saw, as he abandoned his relaxed stance in favor of leaning forward, his legs spreading farther as he rested an elbow on each knee, hands clasped between them.
Zayn trailed his hand up the inside of his thigh, splaying his legs wider to give Liam a perfect view as he brought his slick fingers to his hole. He teased at his rim, moaning shamelessly as the tip of his middle finger slipped inside.
Zayn's eyes had fluttered shut, but he could feel Liam watching him, his eyes trailing from Zayn's face down his body, to where his fingers were pushing inside of him. Zayn hoped that he was imagining his dick in their place, and that he was hard and throbbing, aching to be inside of Zayn.
That thought forced the hand on Zayn's cock to move faster, his grip loosening so that he could slide it quickly up and down his length. He began to pump his fingers in and out of his hole relentlessly, ignoring the burn of the stretch as he dragged his fingertips along his walls.
"Liam, fuck...want you so bad," he moaned, giving the man what he thought he wanted. What he hoped would help push him over the edge, making him feel as good as Zayn did in that moment. More than anything he ached for Liam pull out his cock and to start jerking off in time with him, or for him to join him on the bed and bend him over and fuck him, hard. For him to do anything that would prove that he wanted Zayn. But Liam stayed where he was, shifting slightly in his seat as he raised his clasped hands to his chin, resting it on them as he narrowed his eyes.
Zayn felt his gaze linger on him like a touch, and he knew that he couldn't hold back any longer. His hand began to move impossibly fast, focusing on the top half of his cock as he pushed his fingers as far inside himself as he could, massaging his spot as stars burst behind his eyelids.
"Liam," he moaned, angling his body a fraction to the side, letting Liam see his shiny tip as his slit quivered and he started to come, white hot flashes of pleasure rolling over him as he spurted wetly onto his abs. He came hard - harder than he ever had with a client - streaks of white pooling on his stomach as he pumped himself dry, his mouth falling open as he released a deep, throaty moan. The sound filled the room, accompanied only by his heavy breathing as he dragged his fingers lazily through the mess on his stomach, enjoying the quiet buzz in his head and the heavy weight of his muscles.
"You can go now."
The words shook Zayn out of his haze. He lifted his head to see Liam looking as calm and collected as ever, his suit still perfectly pressed as he sat with an ankle resting on his knee, staring down at his phone like he'd already forgotten Zayn was there.
Zayn stood up slowly, confusion and even a hint of hurt washing over him as he realized how thoroughly unimpressed Liam was with his performance. He dressed hurriedly then stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Apparently he wasn't moving fast enough for Liam, who still hadn't looked up from his phone. "The money's on the nightstand. You can let yourself out," he told Zayn, all without sparing him a glance.
Zayn grabbed the wad of cash and shoved it into his pocket, not bothering to count it as fresh embarrassment coursed through him at being dismissed so succinctly. He paused in the doorway out of habit, but after a few seconds he realized that Liam had nothing more to say to him. He left at once, shutting the door quietly behind him and wondering why he felt so shaken.
This was a good thing, he reminded himself as he walked towards the lift. He'd made a night's worth of money in less than an hour, and he hadn't even had to touch the client. Who cared if Liam hadn't been into him, or that he hadn't gotten off to him. It wasn't like his opinion mattered to Zayn one way or the other.
Except as his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see Ana calling, he realized that his opinion did kind of matter, because the last thing he wanted was to get bitched out for not turning Liam into a regular.
"Listen, I'm not in the mood," he growled into the phone, stepping in front of the lift and stabbing at the down arrow. "I'll do better next time."
"Do better?" she asked. "You must have done something right. Liam's already requested you for tomorrow night."