teamzaylor

Chapter 5: PROGRESS

Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash / Hanson / Hancest / Zaylor / Drama
Warnings: Language, Drug use, Slash, Sex
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks: to heart_iswild
http://heart-iswild.livejournal.com
Notes: Hanson ain't famous in this Story, but Taylor plays in a band called Aphrodite. Don't wonder about Taylor's tattoo ;-)

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Okay, here is Chapter 5. Just keep in mind when you're reading this: this is not completely random. If you know anything about 16 and 18 year old boys, well...you'll understand why they did this. But here's a warning: don't ASSUME anything about their relationship. Things do not always turn out how you think they will. Aaaaaaaaaand it's rated NC-17. It's not terribly graphic, but...blah, just read. :)

The kiss only lasted for a few short seconds. Taylor and I both pulled back quickly, wiping our mouths and avoiding each other’s eyes. I honestly didn’t know what to say; it had been a long time since I’d been at loss for words.
It wasn’t so much the kiss itself that left me speechless, but more the feelings I got when it happened. Something in my heart clicked, and I just felt…together. I felt love. And I was scared shitless.
The tow truck came soon after the whole ordeal, and the tower, Dave, had us sit behind him in the front of his truck. Taylor and I sat with a seat between us, but about halfway through the ride home, I felt his cold hand searching for mine. I grabbed it and held it tightly, and I intertwined our fingers and squeezed. Neither of us was thinking about what that kiss meant. Right then, we wanted to hold hands, and so that’s what we did.
-----------------------
When we arrived back at the house, I was somewhat relieved to find that everyone was home. The thought of being alone with Taylor in a confined space made me uncomfortable. I was having feelings for him that were weird and unnatural. You’re not supposed to kiss your brother! And hell, I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t a fucking homo, like Taylor. I was straight as a fucking arrow!
I did feel bad for Taylor, though, when my father yelled at him for breaking the car. It was my fault that we’d gone in the first place, but I wasn’t about to admit that…
“God damn it Taylor,” my dad slurred in his typical Midwestern accent, “what did you even do to it? Now we have to pay for a new car and the tow service?” My father threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “Why do you fuck everything up?” Ouch.
“I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, his eyes fixed on the floor. Isaac and my little brother Mackenzie stood in the kitchen, watching Taylor receive his scolding with looks of absolute glee on their faces. Normally I’d be there beside them, laughing at how much he sucked. But now I didn’t feel that way anymore at all. Now I wanted to make them shut their fucking mouths and leave him alone.
“You know what, Taylor? You’re going to pay for this. I’m not dealing with this crap.” My father sighed loudly and walked out of the room, muttering something about ‘stupid kid’ and ‘fucking waste’. Taylor was standing with his hands holding his upper arms which were still covered in goose bumps, and his face averted downward. He was shaking a little and it almost looked like he was crying, but his hair covered his eyes so I couldn’t see. As I was about to make sure he was okay, Ike walked in and slapped a hand on my back.
“You okay?” he asked, peering over my shoulder at with a smile on his face. I nodded. “Good, because it’s damn cold out there. You coulda frozen!” I nodded again.
“Yeah, it was cold. At least I had a coat.”
He smiled, patted my back again, and looked at Taylor. “Good job, Tay. Now we don’t have a car.”
“It wasn’t his fault it broke down,” I started, but Ike cut me off.
“Why are you shaking? Let me guess, your stupid fucking mind forgot to take a coat with you? It’s like 10 degrees out idiot, maybe next time you should-“
“Stop, Ike.” I warned. My muscles grew tenser with each insult he threw at our trembling brother.
“Why?” He took his hand off my back, walked over to Taylor, and backed him against the wall. “He’s just a fucking pathetic weirdo. He’ll never have friends, he’ll never have a girlfriend, I mean fuck! He’s probably a faggot anyway.” I cringed at the term, knowing how hard it had been for Taylor to admit to me what he did in the car. His face was still obscured by his hair and he was holding himself so tightly that little purple marks were forming on the skin of his upper arms. I saw how a tear fell down from his chin to the floor. I’d watched enough.
“Stop it,” I said harshly, grabbing Ike’s shoulder and pulling him away from Taylor. He looked at me with angry eyes and pushed my hand off of him.
“Why the hell are you defending him all the sudden? Since when do you give a fuck about this piece of shit anyway?” It hurt to hear him refer to Taylor that way. Ike was his brother, but he probably tormented him worse than anyone. The rest of our family usually ignored Taylor, but Ike was downright…nasty. I gritted my teeth together, fists clenched at my sides.
“Because he’s our brother and you’re an asshole! What did he do to you? Huh? What the fuck did he do to you?” I was losing my cool, and quickly. Ike looked at me like I had 10 heads.
“You’re a God damned hypocrite! You know that? Just for the Record you treat him like shit just the way everyone else does! And now all the sudden you just decided that he’s worth somethin’? Well let me make this very, crystal fuckin’ clear to you, Zac.” He stepped close to me. His face was contorted angrily as he pointed a finger in Taylor's face. “Taylor. Ain’t. Worth. Nothin’. You hear that?” He turned his head to Taylor. “Taylor is lower than God damned dog shit, and thanks to him, I no longer have a fuckin’ car. He’s fucking useless and doesn’ fit into this family and never will.”
Well, that turned out to be my cue to punch him in the face. Hard. And let me tell you, these guns I’ve got aren’t just for viewing pleasure.
“FUCK!” Ike stumbled back, clutching his nose as it bled onto the floor. Taylor took that opportunity to run upstairs, and Mackenzie, who’d been watching from the kitchen, ran to get our mother. Shit, I was in trouble now.
----------------------------------------
I’m sure you could’ve guessed that the remainder of that night and the entire next day were to be spent in my bedroom. That night was basically spent sleeping and thinking. I thought about Taylor mostly, and I thought about how he looked, mostly. I thought about his face, and his eyes, and his lips, and oh those lips…those lips that I wanted to kiss again again again. And I thought about how he made my stomach get butterflies when he sang and how I’d never felt that way about any girl I’d ever been with. He was so…enthralling, and I’m going to be honest with you; that night, the prospect of just being with him was all that occupied my thoughts. There were no notions of, “Oh, he’s my brother,” or “Oh, he’s a guy.” All I thought about was how he made feel, and how I wanted to know everything about him, and how I’d do anything to touch him.
The next day, the whole family (sans Taylor, Isaac, and me) decided to fuck off somewhere. I’m not going to lie, I still have no idea where they went that day. All I know is that they said they’d be gone for a long time. Ike went to his girlfriend’s house (who might I add, definitely doubles as a street hooker, though Ike refuses to admit it), so Taylor and I were left all by ourselves. This time I wasn’t thinking really though, not like I had been the night we’d kissed. I wasn’t scared to be alone with him…in fact, I wanted to be alone with him. And even though when we’d kissed he had seemed to be into it…well, you can’t just assume things like that. I waited in my room, sitting up against the wall behind my bed, throwing a bouncy ball against the window in front of me and catching it for a while. I waited and waited, throwing and catching like the one-man baseball team I was (did I mention that I’d won 3 trophies for baseball in addition to all of my soccer awards?), until finally, Taylor came in.
He walked in slowly, a lit cigarette hanging nervously between his lank fingers, his eyes focused on the floor as he moved towards me. I thought about the progress he’d made the other night. It was amazing that he’d felt comfortable enough with me to admit that he was gay, because he was so shy and so quiet, and I was such an asshole…But the point was he’d come out of his proverbial shell, or closet, or whatever…and opened up to me. Now he was back to square one, thanks to Isaac, and showed it by the way he moved and the coyness of his…everything.
I put the ball on the night table as Taylor sat on the edge of my bed.
“Thank you,” he began, flicking the cigarette on my ashtray, “for…yesterday.”
I shook my head. “It was nothing.” I scooted over to make room for him and patted the spot next to me. Sucking on his cigarette like a baby on a nipple, he moved next to me, his body tense and his face upset.
“I’m sorry I got you in trou-“
“No,” I interrupted, “don’t be.”
He nodded. I studied his profile, taking note of every little detail: the sweet little dimple on his cheek, his oddly long eyelashes, his feminine delicate features, his ludicrous jug ears and good God I’d never been more attracted to anyone in my life. I wanted to kiss him and touch him so badly that I just…stopped thinking.
Carefully, I removed the cigarette from his lips and placed it in the ashtray. He looked at me confusedly, and before he could say anything, I leaned over and kissed him. Before I closed my eyes, I could see that his were wide open, and he was staring at me as I moved my lips against his. But then I stopped caring, and since he wasn’t pushing me away…well, I continued to push the envelope. I moved my lips against his slowly, and fuck, they were so perfect, and they tasted good…real good. Like Cherry Chapstick and a hint of menthol from his cigarette…
Before I could get too comfortable, he pulled his face away and looked at me like I’d just sprouted a dick between my eyes.
“Why…what…what are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know, I don’t care…I just…I’m feeling something Tay, are you feeling something?” He shook his head slowly and I felt my heart drop through my stomach. How could I have thought he was feeling the same way? How could I have forgotten that what I was feeling was sick and unnatural and stupid and immoral and-
And nothing. Hesitantly he climbed on top of me, carefully straddling my hips, and kissed me. Soft. Passionately. Showstoppingly. The thought of ‘is this really happening’? didn’t even cross my mind as we kissed. It just felt right and I wanted to do more, go farther, and I didn’t even care if he didn’t want to because I did, and I wanted to fuck him. No, I wanted to have sex with him. I wanted to have sex with a guy. My brother. And I wanted it to happen right there, right then, and I didn’t care who gave it or who took it. All I knew is that I was feeling it, and he was, too.
From there it was all a mix of tongues and lips and grunts. We kissed for a long time, and when I tugged at his shirt, he didn’t protest. Carefully, I stripped him of the stupid piece of clothing that he should’ve never been allowed to wear in the first place because DAMN did he look good without it, and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. He was breathing heavily and looked at me nervously.
“Hey, it’s okay…” I whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He nodded. “Zac I’ve never…” his cheeks were blushed and he was shaking a little.
“Calm down,” I said soothingly smiling, rubbing my fingers against his cheek. He nodded again and took off my shirt. I was so hard by then, I just wanted to rip off the rest of our clothes and shove it in him. So…I did.
We used moisturizer for lube and had sex in that position. He cried a little at first, because I’m pretty long, and I'm sure it was no picnic for him to have to take that shit as a virgin. But Jesus H. Christ, he was amazing once we got going.
I held his hips and watched his face as he moved up and down…up and down. To me, he was no longer a guy. He was no longer my brother. He was a lover; he was somebody I wanted to do this 10 times a day with. It was so much better than sex with a woman because I loved him, I loved him so much, and he loved me, or at least I assumed he did. His tattooed hand clawed at his nipple, and at one point I was scared he was going to tear it off. His face was contorted in ecstasy as he rode me faster, and faster, and I kissed him and I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight as he moved, and we were sweating and he was on fire and I would’ve been happy dying right there as I exploded inside of him.
When we were both finished, he lay down on top of me and rested his chin on my chest. He was naked. I was naked. We had just had sex. Holy shit. We had just had sex. And oh my God, I loved him.
I ran my fingers through his hair as his breathing slowed down and kissed the top of his head.
“Are you okay?” I asked him quietly. He nodded hesitantly and moved up to kiss my lips.
“I’m…amazing.”
“You really are.”
He smiled happy down at me and I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him tightly. I never wanted to let him go, not ever.
“I love you,” I whispered into his hair. I felt his lips move into a smile against my chest.
"I love you, too."

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