I have so much planned for this story but I feel like a lot of it is just too heart wrenching and you guys aren't even ready so I'll dial down because I'm not that evil.
So in this chapter, you guys will start learning a little about Justin's relationship with his father AND ZUSTIN MEETS AGAIN.
This chapter starts up two weeks after Zayn and Justin's first interaction.
———
Justin removed his glasses before rubbing a hand over his face as he released a puff of air.
He was exhausted.
This week has been stressful. His body was tense, he's had the most brutal migraine for the past three days and he's been running on fifteen hours of sleep the entire week.
If his father had told him that being a lawyer would become this stressful, he wouldn't have ever agreed to become the head of the firm.
He knew there would be many consequences of this job, many tough cases and issues he'd have to face, but Justin's always been one for a challenge and he can usually handle himself very well. He's used to laughing at every obstacle life throws at him.
He's intelligent, he was also taught by the best so he's known all the loopholes and tactics from a very young age.
There's never been a case Justin couldn't take care of, but for the first time, he found himself yearning for death rather than going through with all of this.
He didn't even know why he took this case to begin with. It was a lost cause.
His client, Gregory William, has raped and slaughtered thirteen women in the past year alone, he's gotten away with all of those crimes except for the last. Somewhere along the way, he got sloppy and screwed himself over.
Justin was rather appalled when the files were placed in front of him and he rejected the case immediately, but his father, as usual, had other plans for him.
"You are taking this case, Justin. I didn't raise a coward," his father had told him about two weeks ago.
And that was the end of that conversation.
He had to do it.
He had to defend a rapist slash murderer who he would happily throw into jail himself if he had the chance. Matter of fact, he would throw the monster into a cage with untrained Rottweilers.
People like that don't deserve to live and the fact that he had to take the man's side made Justin sick to his stomach.
He's just as bad as his client now.
His father said it didn't matter. The world will hate you for some of your decisions— your decision, father, Justin had failed to say that evening— but you'll just have to learn how to suck it up and win then flaunt. The only thing that mattered was that he was getting paid, his father's words, not his own.
Justin could care less for money. He was drowning in it and he had absolutely no idea what to do with any of it. When he dies, his money will still be here being wasted away. It won't burn in hell with him, it won't be there for him. It's useless, valueless now that he doesn't even look at price tags before he throws his credit card down on a counter.
He'd rather lay in a grave beside his mother than live a life that was ruled by money.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts, and Justin found his hands clenching on the desk beneath them.
"What," he snapped.
He wasn't in the mood for company.
The door opened and in came Selena holding two large Starbucks cups in her hand.
Justin released a relieved sigh as she approached him to hand him one of the cups. "You're a blessing."
"I know," said Selena. She took a seat on one of the red leather single person couches that were propped on the side of the desk that was opposite from his own. "How's the case?"
The male rolled his eyes at the question after taking a sip of the bitter drink— strong, just the way he needed it.
"Don't ask stupid questions, Selena."
His best friend shrugged unsympathetically. "You brought this upon yourself. You're getting what you deserve."
"My father—"
"Is a forty nine year old bastard who knows nothing aside from brutality and money and you are a grown ass man, Justin. You have your own money, your own life, yet look at you, letting the devil run your life."
"Do not speak of my father like that," Justin hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at the woman.
Selena settled down immediately. She already knew how he felt about his father. Justin thought even worse of him than she did, but that didn't mean he would ever disrespect the man like that even if he did deserve it.
"You need a break," his best friend suggested, "you're overworking yourself."
"I can't. I need to find some way to get Gregory out of the death penalty."
Selena snickered, "good luck with that," she muttered with her lips wrapped around the rim of her cup.
He glared at her again.
"The best you can get him in his situation is life in jail and you know that Justin. He might as well just get electrocuted or hung now because we all know how prisoners take matters such as rape. They aren't very fond of it. I'm sure being beaten to death will be far more torturous for him," Selena paused and looked up, manicured finger tapping against her cup, as if she was deep in thought before looking back towards Justin, "actually, now that I think of it, fight for him. I'll personally pay prisoners to kick his ass and cut him into bits like he did to those innocent women."
"I would say I'd happily help you pay, but that would be incredibly unprofessional of me."
"Yes, yes, I know," she said, "but now we're going off topic. You need a break."
"I told you, I can't—"
Selena laughed. "I think it's cute how you think this is up for discussion. You're taking a break, Justin. At least three days. Daddy deary will understand."
"You overestimate my father's kindness."
"You underestimate my determination to get you out of this office."
"Selena—"
"No, you're taking a break. You need it and you deserve it."
"But who will—"
"I'll get the lawyers not currently working on anything to help out. They won't willingly do it but they will do it if they want to keep their heads on their bodies. You need to rest. Three days of sleep and food."
Justin huffed. "I'm not winning this, am I?"
"Nope," Selena responded with a wide smile.
-
Justin slept for ten hours straight after leaving the firm that morning.
It was now nine forty four and he was craving a burger from Joe's more than he's craved anything in a very long time.
It was absolutely absurd but he found himself in his car less than ten minutes later, ready to go on a thirty minute drive just for a burger. A burger.
But he's overworked and stressed and Justin would be damned if someone were to judge his decisions.
The drive to his favorite diner seemed to be short, the usual thirty minute ride felt closer to twenty. Not that he was complaining, his stomach sure was at the current lack of food though.
Justin stepped out of his black Camaro and shoved his car keys into the pocket of his suit pants before proceeding towards the area.
From the looks of it, the place was pretty empty which made sense since it was late. Joe's was only full at night on weekends. Justin was suddenly very thankful for this.
He pulled the glass white framed door open and stepped inside, almost moaning at the glorious scent of their fries. His stomach growled and Justin frowned.
"Justin!"
The Canadian's head shot up to be met by the bright eyes of Lola, the wife of Joe and the manager of the diner. His lips stretched into a smile as he neared her with open arms. The second he reached her, he pulled her small figure into a tight hug, soaking in the smell of vanilla and cookies.
"It's been so long since I've seen you, oh my God. We've missed you around here, Bieber," she said after pulling apart from him.
"We're back to last names, Mrs.Johnson?"
Lola crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look. "Why shouldn't we be? You're the one who abandoned this place for months."
"It's been chaotic at the firm. I haven't had much free time on my hands, my apologies."
The woman nodded in understanding as she hummed. "Understood. But it's fine, you're here now so let's get you settled. Bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and onion rings and a vanilla milkshake, yes?"
"You remembered," he said fondly.
Lola rolled her eyes as if to say, "of course I remembered, dumbass," and walked off after informing him that his meal should be ready in fifteen to twenty minutes.
Justin nodded his thanks and looked around the nearly empty diner. He could sit anywhere, really. There were like three other people, and luckily for him, those customers weren't seated in his favorite spot.
Justin began walking to the booth in the farthest corner of the diner, but halted when he was about three feet away.
His brows creased as he slowly took a few steps back, turning his head sideways to get a clear look at what he thought he just saw.
Surely, he was correct.
Justin looked at the raven haired man who seemed far too occupied to acknowledge his existence.
The brunette was seated closer to the window with headphones in his ears as his hand worked a pencil across paper furiously.
Justin couldn't see much of the man's face, but he did notice that the hair atop his head grew out a little more as well as his facial hair.
He stood there for a moment, contemplating on if he should alert the stranger of his presence or not.
The brunette didn't really seem to be in the best mood if the way he was currently attacking his paper was anything to go by, which was an obvious sign that maybe Justin should just back off.
But at the same time, maybe he needed someone to talk to, someone to help him feel better.
Justin released a shaky breathe, ready to speak, but the man beat him to it.
"Are you going to stand there staring at me all day or are you going to take a seat?"
It was than that the man lifted his head to meet Justin's eyes. He seemed to recognize Justin immediately, a smirk creeping over his mesmerizing features.
He looked tired, bags under his eyes looking like they were almost the color of his pencil. His cheeks were hallow and his eyes looked irritated, yet still, he managed to look absolutely breathtaking.
"Okay, seriously, you're really getting weird now. Take a seat or walk away," he said.
Justin bit the inside of his cheek as he was presented with a new problem. Where should he seat? He knew that he wanted to sit beside the man, but it would be more respectful if he sat across.
When he moved his feet to do exactly that, the brunette spoke up again.
"You can sit next to me if you want. Don't worry, I don't bite."
I wouldn't mind if you did, Justin thought, but refused to voice.
Though, by the glint in the man's eyes as Justin took a seat beside him, he suspected that the artist somehow knew exactly what he was thinking.
Justin cleared his throat and placed his forearms on the table as he leaned forward with his hands clasped together.
His eyes trailed down towards the drawing and took a moment to look at it, finding that it was hard to figure out exactly what it was.
"What are you working on?"
The artist shrugged and closed his workbook before shoving it into what seemed to be a black bookbag that was rested beside him, leaning against the wall.
"Nothing important."
Justin wanted to push on, curiosity building within him, but it was none of his business so he kept quiet.
"Alright than, how about you tell me your name?"
The man's eyes narrowed, "give me one good reason I should."
"Well, we're at the start of a conversation and I would like a name to match the face."
"You don't need a name."
"Is there a reason you don't want me to know your name," the lawyer questioned with raised brows.
The brunette smirked, yet again, and Justin's eyes lingered for a moment. Possibly a moment too long because when he looked back up to meet the man's eyes, he was giving him a knowing look.
The artist leaned into Justin's space, voice low, almost a whisper, when he uttered, "maybe I'm just playing hard to get."
"Are you not?"
The artist shrugged. "Not really. I just like to tease a lot, but I give in eventually if I'm interested enough."
The look the brunette was giving Justin simply spelled sex.
There was no other way to put it. He wasn't trying before and he already had Justin weak at his knees. Now that he was actually trying to seduce the lawyer, Justin felt like he may just faint.
"My name's Zayn," the man, Zayn, informed.
"Zayn."
Zayn rolled his eyes. "Yes, Justin. I'm certain that's exactly what I just said. You don't have to repeat it."
"Maybe I like the sound of it."
At this, the brows of the artist rose. He was obviously caught off guard, clearly not expecting Justin to play along with his game. "Are you sweet talking me?"
Justin shrugged easily. "Depends. Do you like it?"
Zayn's eyes narrowed into slits, but nothing about the action was threatening. If anything, Zayn seemed suspicious at most.
He looked like he was getting ready to respond, but didn't get the chance to because a milkshake was being set in front of them.
Justin looked up at the being he knew for sure was Lola with an appreciative smile.
The woman responded with a suggestive grin, shooting him a wink before walking off.
He rolled his eyes despite her not being able to see. Whenever Lola saw him with a man, she immediately got suggestive about it, making faces to imply something rather inappropriate.
Of course, Justin wouldn't be opposed to doing inappropriate things with Zayn, but it's always uncomfortable for him whenever she does it.
Justin turned back just in time to watch Zayn slide the milkshake closer to himself and lean forward to trap the end of the straw in between his lips, taking a sip of the drink.
Justin's eyes zeroed in on the action, watching the vanilla beverage slowly glide up the inside of the white straw. Naturally, his gaze fell on Zayn's lips, still pursed as he enjoyed Justin's drink.
Justin couldn't even find it in himself to be mad. He was far too distracted with the image Zayn was currently giving off.
In fact, he was so distracted that he didn't even notice when Zayn stopped drinking. Apparently his eyes simply followed the artist's lips as they slipped off the straw.
"Someone has an oral fixation."
Justin blinked then averted his eyes to meet Zayn's owns, and winced at how idiotic he came out when he voiced a, "what?"
Zayn's lips stretched into a smirk at this. If it wasn't clear the effect he had on Justin before, it sure was now.
"This is my favorite milkshake," said Zayn, "I couldn't help myself, sorry about that, just taking without asking, but... by the looks of it, it doesn't seem like you mind very much."
Justin tried his best to seem at ease, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, "I could just buy another one."
"Oh? So you wouldn't mind if I just took this all for myself?" Zayn questioned, but didn't wait for a response, wrapped his lips around the straw again and just began... sucking.
It was almost like a reflex, how fast Justin's eyes traveled back down to Zayn's working lips.
He rolled his tongue over his own on instinct, as he always did whenever he found himself getting aroused.
"No... nope, not at all," the lawyer trailed off after a very long moment.
This had to be the oddest foreplay Justin's ever participated in.
Zayn was a tease, he knew as much, and it was almost torturous, because Justin wanted.
He hasn't wanted anyone this much in a very long time, which possibly has to do with the fact that others threw themselves at him with just one glance. Zayn, on the other hand, was making it clear that even if he did want Justin, he wasn't one to simply fall to his knees for the man.
"Are you going to talk or are you going to just keep staring at my lips all night?"
Justin's brows rose at the man, lips thinning as he rolled them into his mouth and released a hum.
"You don't seem much like the talking type," he responded, "I have a feeling that you'll switch the topic with anything I say and avoid any questions I ask."
"I'm a straightforward person, Justin."
"Straightforward doesn't mean you aren't private, Zayn. I've had two encounters with you and from those, I can tell you aren't the kind of person to just let someone in."
The brunette's brows furrowed as he grinned, "aren't I?"
Justin rolled his eyes, "you know that's not what I mean. But do you see what I'm talking about? I make statement about you based on observation and you're already switching the subject, getting suggestive, avoiding what I said in hopes that I would get too distracted by your implications."
"Wow, okay Mr.I'm-such-a-great-lawyer-I-analyze-people-within-five-minutes-of-knowing-them, you seem to have it all figured out, don't you?"
"I wish I did. It would make my job and my life much easier, but unfortunately, I don't."
Zayn set the drink aside and turned back to Justin as he clasped his hands together, "ask me something. Nothing too personal, something simple and I promise, I'll answer."
Justin nodded his head once, trying to bite back on a smile because Zayn wanted to let Justin know about him. If it weren't for that, Zayn would've probably been out of the diner already.
"Okay, tell me about your art. Why you became an artist, what your muse is, that kind of stuff."
Zayn scoffed, "are you even interested in art?"
"Not really, but I'm interested in you, so tell me."
Zayn sighed, as if to say, "fair point," and licked his lips. "I'm dyslexic."
Justin's brows shot up, not because he was bothered by the fact, but because he was shocked Zayn was so open about it.
Zayn seemed to notice this, arching a brow at Justin's reaction. "I have nothing to be ashamed of. My disorder shaped me into who I am. I always hated words, images were always better for me, so naturally, I grew closer to them and well, here I am now, an artist."
There were missing pieces to the story, Justin knew as much, but he was in no place to push on and try to urge Zayn to say more, so he hummed in interest.
He was suddenly fascinated by the man, someone who embraced what many saw as a weakness. It was intriguing.
"My turn," said the artist, "what made you want to become a lawyer? Or, more specifically, why are you a lawyer?"
Justin stiffened a little at the question, noticed the way Zayn's eyes narrowed in suspicious and immediately relaxed himself.
"Not really something I wanted to do."
"Than why did you do it?"
"That's two questions in a row, not fair."
"You didn't even answer my first question," Zayn stated matter-of-factly, "so it is fair," with a smug grin.
With a defeated sigh, Justin offered the simplest response he could give, "my father wanted me to become a lawyer, take over his firm, carry on his legacy and all that jazz, so I did it."
"But you didn't want to."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. It was true.
"So, what, you've been your daddy's little bitch since the beginning?"
Justin straightened immediately, fixing Zayn with a glare that usually had most people falling into submission easily. With Zayn, it only seemed to amuse him. The artist just blinked at Justin, unfazed.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," said Zayn, "you're a grown man with your own well-earned money, enough to live out the rest of your life in ease, I'm pretty sure, yet you're still allowing your father to keep a hold over you? It's sad, really. It's your life, you should have control over it."
"It's not as easy as sounds, Zayn," Justin hissed, not being able to help the tightness in his voice and the fisting of his hand, "you don't know a God damn thing about me or my life. You don't know the type of relationship I have with my father so you are in no place to judge my decisions."
Zayn's eyes softened at this, seeming to understand that he's crossed some boundary he shouldn't have even nudged at. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."
Justin didn't respond, still trying to calm himself from the outburst he almost had.
He hated speaking about his father more than being in a room with the man.
"You can ask me another question, if you want."
Justin was on that immediately. "Do you actually have any friends?"
Zayn flinched.
Aside from the fact that Zayn was a complete and utter asshole, he also didn't seem like the kind of person to let anyone in enough for them to actually grow a bond that would lead to friendship. The question seemed valid to Justin.
The artist composed himself, and was back to his effortless calm. It was almost like he's mastered it. "I have acquaintances."
The way the word rolled off Zayn's tongue suggested a deeper meaning.
"The kind you actually sit and talk with or the kind you just go home and fuck?"
"Oh now, that's now fair," Zayn said with a small pout, tone suddenly lowering, "you can't ask two questions in a row. Your rule. And I know you lawyers like to think because you know the law, you can break it, but that doesn't work with me."
"Know a lot of lawyers?"
Zayn smirked. "Just a few, kinky little fuckers."
Justin couldn't really stop the flooding of the following images that flashed through his head at the new found information. He felt himself hardening under the thick fabric of his jeans, and had to say something, anything, to not draw Zayn's attention to what was going on.
"Your turn."
"Do you have a thing for all artists or is it just me?"
"Just you," Justin answered swiftly. He was sure Zayn already knew the answer anyway. "My turn. Are you just leading me on or do you actually plan on taking this somewhere?"
Zayn tilted his head and looked upward as if he was actually thinking about it, then shrugged. "Depends."
He then leaned forward, so close that if Justin so much as turned his head, their lips would probably meet. Zayn rested a hand on Justin's thigh, nowhere near the area of interest and Justin knew he was teasing. This was a game to him.
Zayn's voice was hushed, smooth, when he asked, "do you wanna fuck me, Justin?"
Justin kept his lips sealed, but his member was definitely interested, jolting at the question before blood came rushing all at once. He swallowed, heat rising in his body and he was pretty sure his cheeks were flushed.
Making direct eye contact with Zayn probably wasn't helping his situation, the man's eyes were his sexiest feature.
"Are you usually this forward?"
"You didn't answer my question yet, Justin."
Zayn's hand remained unmoving where it was rested, testing.
"Yes."
Zayn grinned and leaned in completely, pressing a faint kiss to where Justin's neck, hand crawling up Justin's thigh before just gripping his achingly hard member like he owned it.
Justin's breathe hitched, suddenly very irritated by the fact that they were in a public place. If it weren't for that, Zayn would've been naked on his hands and knees already.
"Your place," Zayn asked before placing another kiss on Justin's neck.
"Yeah," he responded, a little breathy, "let's go."
———
Zustin sex next chapter? Zustin sex next chapter.
Whenever it is I have time to get on the next chapter of course. Hopefully it's soon.