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Chapter 7– One Night Stand
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2026-02-22 22:34:57Chapter Seven – One Night Stand
The club emptied slower than usual
Whispers lingered in the air, curious glances followed Noah as he disappeared backstage, pulse still racing from the confrontation
Ten times his rate
The number echoed in his head
It wasn’t just money, it was control, it was a cage disguised as salvation
He didn’t change out of his stage clothes right away
His hands trembled as he wiped off his makeup
In the mirror, his reflection looked fractured — glitter fading, eyes rimmed red from stress, jaw clenched too tight
A knock came at the dressing room door
Not loud
Not rushed
Certain
He knew who it was before the door opened
Elliott stepped inside without waiting for permission
The music from the main floor had faded to a dull thrum, the hallway outside nearly empty, private
Noah stood slowly
“You shouldn’t be back here,” he said, but the protest lacked strength
Elliott closed the door behind him
“And yet I am”
The air tightened
Up close, there was no audience, no performance, just two men and the wreckage of boundaries between them
“You embarrassed me,” Noah said, anger finally surfacing through the humiliation
Elliott’s gaze didn’t waver
“You embarrass yourself every night,” he replied evenly, “I simply acknowledged it”
The words hit harder than any physical shove
Noah stepped forward despite himself
“You had no right”
Elliott’s jaw flexed
“And who does?” he asked quietly, “The strangers who throw money at you? The manager who sells your time?”
Silence stretched
Noah hated that the words dug under his skin
“You don’t get to pretend you’re different,” Noah muttered
Elliott took a step closer
“I am different”
The tension shifted, no longer public spectacle but personal, charged, dangerous
“You’re my student,” Elliott continued, voice low but steady, “and you are wasting yourself”
Noah laughed bitterly
“Wasting myself doesn’t pay tuition”
The truth lingered between them like smoke
Elliott’s eyes softened just slightly, but his posture remained firm
“I meant what I said, ten times your rate”
Noah swallowed
“For one night?”
Elliott tilted his head
“For tonight”
The implication hung heavy
No contract, no promises, no audience
Just a choice
Noah’s heart pounded against his ribs
This wasn’t about attraction alone, it was about power, about being seen in the worst possible light and still being wanted
Or owned
“You think you can buy me?”
Elliott stepped closer until there was barely space between them
“I think,” he said carefully, “that you need help”
The words were measured, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed something deeper, something darker
Noah searched his face for mockery
He found none
Instead, he saw focus, determination, hunger carefully restrained behind discipline
“I don’t need saving,” Noah whispered
“Good,” Elliott replied, “because I’m not offering salvation”
The honesty startled him
The air between them shifted again, no longer confrontation but something heavier, mutual awareness, a line about to be crossed
Noah could walk away
He knew that
But the money would solve everything, the looming debt, the constant anxiety, the sleepless nights
One night
He exhaled slowly
“Fine”
The word felt like stepping off a ledge
Elliott studied him carefully, as if making sure this wasn’t impulse
“This is your decision”
Noah held his gaze
“Yes”
The professor nodded once
“Then get dressed”
—
The city outside was quiet when they left the club
Noah sat in the passenger seat of Elliott’s car, staring out the window as neon lights blurred into streaks
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was loaded
His pulse hadn’t slowed
He expected guilt, shame, something dramatic
Instead, he felt numb
Elliott’s apartment was minimalist, clean lines, order, control in physical form
It felt nothing like the chaos of the club
Noah stood near the entrance, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath
“This doesn’t change anything at school,” Elliott said, removing his jacket, “you remain my student, boundaries remain intact”
Noah almost laughed at the irony
“After tonight?”
Elliott’s gaze locked onto his
“After tonight”
There was something almost clinical in the way he said it
And yet the air was anything but clinical
Noah stepped closer
“If this is about control, don’t pretend it’s charity”
Elliott’s eyes darkened
“It isn’t charity”
The space between them disappeared
What followed wasn’t tender
It wasn’t romantic
It was deliberate, measured, a slow unraveling of tension that had been building since that first moment their worlds collided
Noah felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with skin
Elliott saw him, the exhaustion, the desperation, the pride barely holding together
And instead of mocking it, he claimed it
Not gently
But not cruelly either
There was dominance in the way Elliott moved, authority, the same commanding presence he carried in lecture halls, only now focused entirely on Noah
And Noah let him
Because for once, he didn’t have to perform
No stage
No audience
No pretending
Just raw, unfiltered need tangled with power neither of them fully understood
Hours later, Noah lay awake staring at the ceiling
Elliott slept beside him, composed even in rest
The money sat on the bedside table
Ten times his rate
It should have felt victorious
Instead, it felt like a beginning
And beginnings were always more dangerous than endings
Noah turned his head slightly
Elliott wasn’t just a client
And this wasn’t just a transaction
It was a line crossed
And lines, once erased, never return the same
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