CHAPTER 1: GOD'S NECTARINES
Genre: Slash / Hanson / Hancest / Zaylor / Drama
Warnings: Language, Drug use, Slash, Sex
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks: to heart_iswild
Notes: Hanson ain't famous in this Story, but Taylor plays in a band called Aphrodite. Don't wonder about Taylor's tattoo ;-)
I have a fairly large family. I’ve got 3 brothers and 3 sisters, 2 parents, a dog, 4 grandparents and 1 set of great grandparents. All together, 14 of us live under one roof. Of course this doesn’t include the parades of cousins and aunts and uncles that march in and out of here on a daily basis. Needless to say, my house, is well…a zoo.
99.9% of the time, privacy is not a tangible word in the Hanson house. But that .1% is savored by each family member, like a sweet, supple nectarine that’s been given to you by the hand of God after 40 years in the desert. Those short minutes where we’re by ourselves can only be described by one word: bliss.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d hate for my living situation to be anything other than what it is. I love my family and I love the craziness that oozes out of the creaks in our windows and doors, and I love the way my little siblings come and jump on me at 5:30 AM on Saturdays, and I even love the way my dog’s breath smells when he’s barking in my face so he can go take a piss. My life is insane, but without all of those who make it insane, I’d just be miserable.
My house is always booming and full of energy, so lots of times, things go unnoticed. We Hansons are loud, vibrant, and attention-seeking. We thrive on being noticed. In other words, if you don’t make yourself known, you’ll be forgotten.
Of course, there’s always one ugly duckling in the group. One bad egg, one outcast, one blemish on a clear face. That blemish’s name is Taylor, and good God, is he is total pussy.
Taylor is 18 years old. He’s blonde (like the rest of us), has refreshingly blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a sloped nose. He’s tall and thin, like one of those male models you see on TV. Taylor could probably be a model, if he wasn’t so damned weird.
Taylor Hanson is quiet. Yes, you heard right, quiet. And no, he was not adopted, or shipped over in a box from China (although that’s what my oldest brother Ike told him ‘till he was like, 12). He’s quiet and weird and his whole right arm is tattooed with permanent tribal ink that’s a complete enigma to a normal person’s eye. He dresses oddly and always writes in this stupid Journal that he carries around. He’s the only Hanson so far that’s graduated high school, but I plan to steal that thunder from him soon enough. I’ll be the second and as everyone knows, first is worst, second is the best!
My mother was once quite taken with Taylor, and was always puzzled as to why he had no friends. She tried to encourage him to be more outgoing when he was younger, but failed miserably, and settled for hugging him at least 10 times a day to “raise his self-esteem.” After sticking to that regimen for a few months and seeing no results, she gave up and left him to wallow in his weirdness. Maybe her decision to “give up” on my older brother wasn’t listed in the Ways To Be An Awesome Parent book, but hey, she had 13 other people to take care of. If he was going to suck at life, then she was going to let him suck.
Contrary to what you might think, I do love my brother. Yes, he’s fucking bizarre, but that’s probably why I like him so much. You see, my whole family is the same. We’ve all got the same personality, we look alike, we share the same mannerisms and gestures… One is a replica of the other, and to be honest, it gets boring. Taylor is a breath of fresh air, if you will. He’s one of those tangy nectarines that make you purse your lips and smile at the same time. He’s something different, something special. And I like the fact that no one else thinks so because that way, I get him all to myself.