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For the first time, he saw the situation with complete clarity. Hal, sitting smugly in his cheap pleather chair, erection already tenting his pants in anticipation. The same way it had happened countless times before.
But this time, something was different.
Zach looked Hal dead in the eyes. "No," he said firmly.
Hal froze, confused. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. "What do you mean, no?"
Zach stepped forward, his gaze steely. "I mean no. As in, I'm not doing this anymore. I'm not getting on my knees just so you'll give me a few extra shifts. Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?"
Years of repressed anger and shame boiled over. Zach trembled, but not from fear.
It was rage.
"I'm so fucking done with this. With letting you stick your fucking rank microdick in my mouth, you piece of shit. I don't need this job or your pathetic little power trips, needledick!"
Hal sputtered indignantly. "You can't speak to me like that! I'll fire your ungrateful ass!"
Zach laughed bitterly. "Go right ahead. I quit. This job is fucked, and so are you." He ripped off his nametag, throwing it in Hal's face. "Now zip up your pants and leave me the hell alone, you creep, before I call the fucking cops on you.
"Y-you wouldn't!" Hal's eyed widened, then narrowed. "They'd never believe you."
It was true. Zach knew it. In the eyes of the world, he was just some bitter, weird loser. Hardly the perfect victim.
But that didn't matter. Let Hat sit with the fear of whether or not Zach meant it. He gave Hal the finger. "Consider this my official resignation."
Zach stormed out, his heart racing with adrenaline. The fog had lifted from his eyes. He was done being used. Done diminishing his light for scumbags like Hal. He felt ten feet tall, powerful and free. The future was uncertain, but it was his.
And he would grab it with both hands.
Zach swayed his hips to the pounding bass, reveling in the press of hot, writhing bodies all around him. The Swan was packed tonight, full of hungry eyes and wandering hands. Any other time, the aggressive attention would've overwhelmed Zach.
But tonight, he felt impervious. Both untouchable, and somehow eager to be touched.
Zach let the music move through him, adrenaline and endorphins still rushing from his triumph over Hal. He danced with abandon, his lean body undulating sinuously to the rhythms as he mouthed the lyrics, shutting his eyes to get lost in the pulse and flow.
He could feel the eyes on him as he danced. Older men taking in his tight ripped jeans, his tight t-shirt leaving little to the imagination. Their gazes devoured him hungrily, tracing over his body. He knew how he must look to them: a plaything up for grabs.
Bodies pressed in, drawn to Zach like moths to a flame. Strong hands gripped his hips, pulling him back into a firm chest and hard cock that ground against his ass. Zach let his head fall back onto the man's shoulder, eyes still closed as he gave himself to the music. The man's hands grasped at him greedily, running from his chest to his thighs, and then around to his ass. Lips and teeth grazed the tender flesh of his neck.
He submitted to the anonymous caresses, inside the bubble of the beat — but his mind was far away.
With his shitty job gone, he knew he'd need money soon. Rent was due in a week, and his bank account balance made him nauseous. What kind of place would hire a guy like him, no questions asked, no references? No place that was on the level, that was sure.
But there were other ways to pay the rent.
Zach could easily go home with one of the men who were eyeing him, offering up his body in exchange for quick cash. He wouldn't have been the only young punk who'd ever left the Swan with someone with a payday in mind.
The thought didn't fill him with shame or dread like it normally would. Ever since standing up to Hal, something had shifted inside of him. He felt almost numb, detached from himself — but he was used to his regular feeling of numbness. This was somethingdifferent. He just didn't have the words for it yet.
Untethered by fear or hesitation, he eyed the men who were hungrily devouring his body with their gazes. Watched their eager reactions as he swayed and dipped, skin glistening with sweat.
If he had to sell his body to get by, so be it. He'd been used by men for free his whole life. At least this way he'd get paid. The money meant more than his dignity at this point.
He didn't even care anymore. He felt reckless, almost giddy. The men touching him were interchangeable. Faceless bodies to be used and discarded.
And he could use them right back.
Zach swayed his hips, lost in the throbbing music and press of bodies. Anonymous hands grasped at him. He let himself get swept up in the writhing crowd, momentarily free and detached.
