Zayn nervously approached the sleek black car. It was late, with sunset just ending. The night was silent save the sound of trucks and the occasional cough. The air was chilly as Zayn reluctantly reached his hand to the door handle and pulled it open.
The boy was inside. His arms were crossed, biceps tight. His jaw was glued shut and his eyes were cold and angry. Zayn swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly made his way into the back beside the beautiful boy.
He didn't speak. Neither did the boy. The driver, glancing at them from the mirror, pursed his lips and started the car. The car lurched and moved onto the road, to the new home of the boy; Zayn's house.
Zayn couldn't stand the silence. Finally, he spoke.
"What's your name?" He asked, wishing his voice hadn't cracked.
The boy gave a sideways glance, huffed, and looked away. Zayn ignored the annoyed ball in his stomach and tried again. "Listen, I'm not going to make you some slave. I just-"
"Not a slave?" The boy shot back, his chocolate eyes piercing Zayn's. "My own existence was bought off for a thousand bucks, and you're saying I'm not a slave?" The boy blinked, his eyes suddenly wet. "Please don't talk to me, Zayn."
Zayn felt a pang of hurt in his entire body, but closed his lips. After a few minutes, the boy muttered something.
"I said," the boy huffed, exasperated, "my name is Liam."
"Hello, Liam," Zayn whispered, his heart in his throat. Liam didn't respond.
The car was silent for the rest of the ride, the longest twenty minutes of Zayn's life. Finally, the car made its stop and the driver waved them off.
Zayn quickly raced around the car before Liam could get out. He opened the door for the boy, which earned him a pair of rolled eyes
"Thank you," Liam muttered as he walked by him. Zayn could feel his own confidence being crushed by Liam's. Zayn muttered something he didn't understand and followed him.
Zayn's house was nice, he thought, but not amazing. But that didn't stop Liam from stopping in his tracks with a gasp coming from those luscious lips of his.
"This is your house?" Liam whispered, eyes wide. His mouth was slacked, and he looked like he was drunk.
"Yeah, sorry it's a bit messy," Zayn gestured to the dead flowers and loose stones everywhere. "I didn't anticipate that's I'd be buying an-" he cut himself off.
Liam ignored the comment. He looked back at Zayn, then to the house. "You must have money," he guessed sarcastically.
Zayn blushed. He was always one to make things look over the top. This 'house', that a person like Liam might call a mansion, was a pale, pristine clean white, with baloneys at most windows. The doors were a smooth dark wood, and the path leading to it was the softest rock Liam had ever felt. Flowers that were once thriving were half-rotten and bent over.
Zayn thought it looked like shit, to put it frankly. He felt embarrassed that the boy had to see the mess of his house, and this was just the outside.
Liam thoughts differed. "It's amazing," he commented in awe.
"Yeah? Wait till we get inside, and that isn't a good thing." Zayn juggled the key in the lock and opened the door to let Liam in. When he did, he heard Liam stifle a laugh.
"I figured you're the type. Leaving clothes and pizza boxes everywhere, throw a couple beer bottles in with it," Liam mocked, snickering.
Zayn blushed deeply, wishing he had cleaned up. Why was he so messy in the first place?
"So," Liam turned to face him. "Am I sleeping in the basement or something?"
It took a moment of amusement for Zayn to realize he was serious. "Wha- no!" Zayn felt guilt pour into his heart. "I wouldn't- I wouldn't make you do that, Liam," Zayn lowered his eyes and he suddenly felt like he should return Liam, if he could.
But then thoughts of the other dirty, old men that would bid on little Liam was more than enough to shove those thoughts away
"I don't really have a room for you yet. Wasn't expecting to bu- there's spare rooms upstairs. Take whichever you want." Zayn motioned to the stairs.
Liam stared at Zayn for a lot longer than Zayn was comfortable with, but then he swiftly turned and jogged upstairs.
"I see," Liam said, staring down at the plate of food Zayn had made. Zayn could cook well if he wanted to, and today, he really wanted to.
"I figured the slave would do the cooking," was all he said, before taking a spoon of mashed potatoes.
Zayn was really getting tired of this.
"Listen, Liam- no, let me talk please," interrupting Liam's open mouth. He closed it silently. "I didn't bu-" Zayn breathed out. "Buy you to make you cook and clean and whatever else at my expense. I just, I- I saw you and I-"
Zayn shoved himself away from the table. "Finish your food and go sleep. You must be tired, yeah?"
Liam watched curiously as Zayn disappeared into the kitchen to start washing the dishes.
Liam wasn't sure what to make of his situation. He hated that he was practically a bag of produce that could be sold for a few bucks, but he felt he got lucky at the same time.
He'd been stuck in the Auctions for two years before now. He'd suffered with no food and barely any water. He had slept in a little room with seven other people, each on a tiny blanket that you hoped was big enough to reach around to cover you.
Hell, he'd spent days and weeks naked, shivering on his blanket, waiting for the day he'd be put in the Auctions. And then, it was Zayn who bought him.
Zayn, who had cooked for him, gave him his own bedroom, and apologized way to much. It didn't stop the strip of anger and resentment towards him from Liam, but yet, he was just glad he hadn't been bought by some creep.
But, then again, he had only known Zayn less than six hours. Maybe he was in deeper than he thought.
He decided a bath would do him good. He slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He'd been taught by the Auctions people to not do everything he had done tonight, and it made him feel a bit better about his situation.
The water was hot, just the way Liam liked it. He stripped from his robe that he'd been brought in, and slid down into the tub. He sighed in relief as a real bath took over his sore, dry skin.
He added some bubbles and played with them for a bit. His heart nearly stopped when there was a knock on the door.
"Hey, uhm, I don't have any clothes for you, but that robe seems dirty and gross, so would you mind wearing mine for one night? I'll take you to buy nessesities or whatever tomorrow," Zayn babbled through the door.
Liam couldn't help the grin that hit his face at the squeaky nervousness in Zayn's voice. He glances at his robe, mucky and grimy.
"Yeah, That'd be cool." He answered.
"Okay, yeah sure, uhm, any particular requests?"
Liam decided to milk the situation. "Got sweats and a hoodie?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd been fully covered, and he wanted that feeling back.
"I do!" His voice sounded happy, probably happy he was able to give him what he asked for. Liam didn't understand this guy. Why buy a slave if you aren't going to make him do anything? Isn't that just a roommate that doesn't pay rent?
Either way, Liam was okay with it. Liam decided to get snappy, sure that Zayn wouldn't do anything.
"Get on it, then," he chirped, waving his arms slowly in the bath water. He waited, and heard a small chuckle from Zayn, then footsteps disappearing.
Liam couldn't stop grinning as he wiped himself clean, almost rubbed raw by the time he was done. He cleaned his hair and lathered the shampoo. With a hearty sigh, Liam got out of the tub and dried himself.
Zayn knocked again. "Uh, I'll just slip this in. I'm not looking, I swear."
Liam grabbed the clothes, but bot before Zayn had quickly shut the door to avoid seeing him. Liam was confused on why Zayn was being so nice to him, but he was tired, and he wanted to sleep in a real bed.
He pulled in the sweats that hung from his hips. He tugged on the string to pull them tighter, but they were still loose. He bent down to try and tighten them batter, and the smell of smoke hit his nose.
He coughed and blinked in surprise. He didn't take Zayn for a smoker. He shook his head and slipped on the hoodie that practically hung off his body. He snuggled into the warmth, his skin still warm from the bath.
He stepped silently to his room, an empty white-walled room with a queen mattress and a dresser in the corner. It looked like a hotel room, with the TV on the stand in the corner and the crappy rug underneath his feet.
He pulled the covers over himself as he snuggled into the bed, burying his head into the pillow. He heard the door creak open, and Zayn approach him.
"Goodnight, Liam," he whispered, but Liam was passed out by then.
Zayn stepped to leave, but hesitated. He glanced back at the peaceful looking boy sleeping in one of his beds. With a surge of courage, he bent down and softly pecked Liam's soft, still slightly wet forehead.
He left the room with a new goal; make Liam happy however he could.