those days, it was rare to see zack up there. he was more of a celebrity in the club. someone people queued up appointments and paid in advance for his private dences, and when he was really lucky, he got off easily by working the bar. but that night, he couldn't escape working the pole. he sure tried, but they were short-staffed, and madame wasn't about to give him any wiggle room about it. "you bring in twice the cash of any other whore in here on a slow night. on a weekend, it's double that, so go out there and do the thing you do best." shake ass. he didn't mind being called names. madame was the worst for that; she used derogatory names for them all, and no one could oppose it when she held so much power over them. but he had a thick skin and was not about to shy away from being called what he was. it was being treated like a thing that bugged him. though he didn't object, following madame's wish.
and when he was out there, zack was seasoned enough to hide every drop of discomfort being shouted at, watched or touched carried. every brush of prying fingers, every excessive, prolonged look, every disgustingly detailed beg for certain services was nothing but a transaction. nothing but money. nothing but another hour on the job and another step closer to whatever independence someone in his position could ever hope for. and he was a master at drawing people in and making them feel special. rare were the cases he actually meant it.
wearing a skimpy pair of latex low-rise shorts that did not cover any of him, fishnets and knee-high high-heeled boots, he did what he did best, dancing on the stage like he was having sex, following the rhythm of the loud music, low strobo lights hitting his pretty makeup and bleached hair. he sure was stunning and knew it. and everyone was looking. zack, though, was staring into space, never actually making eye contact, never remembering a face because he wasn't watching people with enough attention to memorise features. until his attention got caught by a familiar glimpse of golden hair and skin. immediatly, zack felt his chest free of a pressure he didn't realise was crushing him. and immediately, he was drawn over.
people watched and envied the way the blond slipped onto the other's lap, stradling him, hands tracing with unleashed familiarity across the collar of his denim jacket, pulling him a little closer. "I missed you," he purred to the other's ear, taking a moment to draw even closer, pressing his nose just under orange's ear, unashamed to inhale his scent deep into his lungs. he was never allowed to have favourites... but for him, he broke the rules. zack drew back, locking hands behind orange's neck and hanging from him, letting the other watch him. zack smiled, hinting at promises they both knew he would have kept if orange did his part. attention. affection. freedom. bought through dirty money. after all, the two of them couldn't hope for anything different. "c'mon," zack's smile grew charming, dark eyes scoping those features he grew fond of by now. "buy me," he even pulled a hand out, inviting orange to drop money in his palm. let me service you, said that gesture. let me be yours for a while, said his eyes. save me for an hour or two, said his heart.
