Zick One Shots

Whats your order?

Dedicated to my friend : Madz . ( ss ) @smolmadz

Leaning on the sink, Nick heaved out huge breaths as sweat trickled down his nape, soaking the collar of his workshirt. Running a hand through his raven hair, he felt it soggy of sweat, too. With a cruse he lifted up his feet and wedged his way to the restroom exclusive for staffs and workers only. He shrugged off his pink apron, yeah pink and please don't bother asking why it's pink, and threw it somewhere in the room, thankfully landing on a dry tiled floor.

He turned on the faucet and splashed his sweaty face with water. A moan escaped from the lips when he felt the cool water calming his worn out muscles. Today's shift was pretty tiring. Yeah, consider it's Valentine's Day and the resto he was working in is packed with cringe-y lovers who don't know what to do but shoved each others' mouth with the resto's food, giggling at their own acts. That's purely nauseating scene to see and for the past 4 hours, Nick stopped himself from rolling his eyes almost every second at those disgusting acts of love.

He turned off the faucet and shut his eyes, still enjoying the feeling of coolness spreading throughout his cheeks. A couple of minutes passed and he decided to change to another workshirt. Well, just because the one he's currently wearing is already soaked with sweat and maybe, just maybe, he also stinks now. Surely, he wouldn't want customers complaining about his smell.

He reached from behind and pulled the shirt out of his body and placed it on the sink. Striding two steps, he reached for the detergent on the right side of the mirror and then carefully placing it on the sink. He turned on the faucet again and began washing his workshirt carefully, not letting his black slacks be soaked with water. He's actually an idiot for not bringing a back up but another workshirt, yes he did.

He finished washing and cleaned the area, returning all things on their proper places and turning off what needs to be turned off. He, then went out, not giving a fuck that he's actually topless. He's pretty sure that no one would actually go near this area.

He found the umbrella stand and hung his workshirt there, that would be dry later. He went on to finding his bag and he beamed when he saw it just below the table and he got it. He pulled the zipper open and got his workshirt, also a baby powder, his affordable perfume and his comb.

He got his towel, too and began wiping his perspiration. Running the cloth along his waist slowly, he closed his eyes as he hummed inaudibly to the song he liked—Wifi Wifey He wiped off his neck, doing sensual circular motions then on his shoulder blades, on his armpits and then finally on his face. That's a pretty disgusting routine considering that all dirt and sweat went to his face again but someone at his back found it hot.

Little did he know, someone was actually watching him warily while he did that sensually and arousing wiping-off-your-sweat activity.

Still closing his eyes, he patted through the table, searching for the powder and smiling mentally when he felt the familiar smooth plastic bottle and he opened the cap. He poured just enough amount on his palm and smoothed it along his torso, his chest and his neck.

Feeling his hands empty, he poured powder on his palms again and applied on his back with difficulty but sensually slow. Now, someone's getting hard now just meters away from him.

After that applying-powder thing, he finally put on another workshirt and whisked himself with perfume. HE grabbed the comb from the table and ran it through his damp hair. He cursed and fluttered his eyes open. He got the towel back again and wiped his air, making it completely messy and disheveled but to the person who was watching him for like 5 minutes now without his knowledge, Nick looked completely hot. And he only bit his lip at the sight.