And with each mile
Dec. 9th, 2012 01:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teamzaylorCHAPTER 32: LONGING FOR LOVE
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Zaylor / Hancest
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks to: Honor @beyondthethorns
About the story: Zac & Taylor's relationship broke up when they got caught kissing by the press and their career were over in a split of a second. To continue a normal life and to take a break from his brother, Taylor starts to study at a College in London but the long distance between them can't stop their feelings for each other.
Sorry for the delay. I needed the time to test my pathetic photoshop skills for creating a new
banner that would match to this Chapter.
Enjoy reading ♥
Rating: R for language and boooysex
They say you can tell a lot about someone from their home. I’m not sure that I believe that. Zachary’s apartment seems nothing like him, unless you look at things really up close. There are clean lines and no clutter in his place- the furniture is contemporary and his bedroom walls are plastered with Star Wars and video game characters posters.
Most importantly, you wouldn’t be able to figure out that my brother sucks cock from the look of his apartment. There’s not a single zebra print rug or fuzzy lamp shade in sight. It looks perfectly heterosexual, and I’m not sure if that’s intentional or if that’s just him. Did I mention his favorite color is blue? You will notice very soon when you look around in his apartment.
When you look up close you can see my brother, and even if I didn’t know who lived there, I could figure out that it was Zachary. In his freezer are bags and bags of frozen chicken nuggets. I’m still waiting for him to grow out of the chicken nugget phase, but I suppose he might never. He claims they’re quick and easy and delicious. He has the bags neatly stacked by expiration dates and the top bag is wrapped up with a rubber band to keep it fresh. I’ve never met another 17 year old guy who takes the time to do that.
There’s a roll of toilet paper waiting on the back of the toilet for when the current roll runs out and his cable bill is hug up on his fridge so he doesn’t forget to pay it, and truly, its incredible what a contradiction he is. But he’s always been like this. I supposed I’ll never understand how someone so unpredictable and unorganized can keep the rest of his life so perfectly put together- but that’s how he’s always been.
Growing up he made his bed everyday and washed the sink out when he was done brushing his teeth to make sure there wasn’t a single trace of spitty toothpaste on the ceramic. And I’m not saying he was a Danny Tanner or a germophobe, he’s not that cliché, but he has always been clean and organized in a way that I’ll never understand.
I was sitting at his computer when he got home. I wasn’t sure if he’d mind but I made sure I didn’t snoop- I just sat there and withdrew myself from my classes in London and
read some of the mails again Zac and I had sent each other. Somehow it made me really sad that everything seems so perfect by the time when our relationship only virtual existed.
He stepped in the door around 6 pm, I turned off his computer immediately, I had more important things to deal with. Dwelling on the past didn't help me to keep me from worrying about him. I was scared he was still furious with me. I swiveled his chair around so I was facing him and looked him over. “I didn’t know it I could use your computer, but I figured you wouldn’t mind….”
He licked his lips and set some bags down on the counter. “Mhm.”
I wasn’t sure if it was an angry response or not, but I tried not to obsess over it. “Can we…. can we talk?”
Zac sighed and began pulling things out of the bag- eggs, a bag of two green peppers, a box of pop tarts. He’d been grocery shopping apparently, although I’m sure it didn’t take him four hours. I wondered where he was the rest of the time.
“I hate when people ask that. If you want to talk, talk. We’re talking right now, you don’t need to offer me an invitation to a conversation,” he said, walking the poptarts over to his pantry before going back to unpacking the plastic grocery bags.
I stood up and walked towards him. “No. Stop unpacking. I want to sit down and talk Zac.” It was hard to be brave when he was being so rude to me. I wasn’t used to this. Even when we were hardly speaking for two years, he wasn’t this cold.
He opened his mouth and looked at me in a way that it looked like he was going to yell, but he just sighed and set down the box of gogurt he was unpacking. I smiled faintly at that fact that he was getting gogurt, because it really was endearing. He turned and walked towards the living room couch, lifting up the blankets that I’d forgotten to fold when I woke up, and suddenly I felt like an ass for not making my space look a little more put together. I walked into his living room with him and watched him fold the blankets and make a pile of them on the arm of the couch. Then we sat down and both just kind of stared at the floor, waiting for each other to speak.
I knew I needed to start though. “I’m really sorry…. I was acting so angry with you yesterday.”
He laughed a little and shook his head, looking towards the kitchen. “Listen, I don’t want to sit here and listen to this. I’d rather unpack my groceries.”
I don’t know why that seemed to make him mad and it made me want to turn back and give up but I refused to. I moved closer to him and even worked up the nerve to place my hand on his leg. “Zac… I’m sorry okay? I had no right to be angry with you….. I was just so confused about why you were acting so nonchalant about everything and I just didn’t know how to take it. I thought you just didn’t give a damn and that made me angry, but I realize now that you do care…. Probably so much that you don’t know what to say.”
Zachary laughed a little and shook his head. He stood up and walked back to the kitchen. I hated the way he was laughing. It made me feel dumb. He did that purposefully too. “I was acting like I don’t care because I don’t care Taylor. Dad’s old. Old people die. It was going to happen sooner or later. Cancer is not a rare thing, and Grandpa died of the same thing. Is it really that surprising?”
What? I was stunned. I had spent the entire morning thinking about my father’s words about how Zac did care, he was just acting angry and like he didn’t give a fuck because he was too tough to cry about it. I had spent the whole morning thinking about how sorry I was that I had been selfish the day before and hated Zachary for the way he was coping with the news. And now he was just telling me that he really didn’t give two shits? I couldn’t even get mad. I didn’t have it in me anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it.
“You just don’t…. give a shit?” I said quietly, turning in the couch and looking at him beginning to upack groceries again.
He shrugged and grabbed a big pack of cokes and walked it to the fridge, carefully clearing out space for it and sliding the pack in. “I just don’t care Taylor. People die. Every relationship is temporary. There is always an end. If you want to cry about it, fine. Cry about it. You can even cry about it to me, I’ll listen. But I’m not going to cry with you. And you can hate me for that if you want, but that’s just me and the reality. And I’m sorry that it’s not more comforting to you, Taylor. I really am.” He turned and closed the fridge and looked in at me. “I mean that. I really am sorry that I can’t… see this the way you’re seeing it…. That I’m like almost inhuman about it. I just…. Death is natural Taylor, and I just can’t seem to cry and hoping for unreal miracles about something that is going to eventually happen to all of us.”
It was blunt, and it was honest, and I wouldn’t expect anything else from him, but I never saw it coming. I never really did think he just didn’t care. It was heart breaking and confusing, but I wasn’t mad about it. I couldn’t be mad at him for not being in as much pain as me. I was happy he couldn’t feel what I felt.
I nodded and swallowed, standing up from the couch and walking towards him. “I won’t make you listen to me cry,” I said quietly. I was beginning to accept it, that my father, at age 52, way before his time, was dying.
He smiled faintly and I watched him swallow hard too. He looked down and took the final groceries out of the bag, putting them into the pantry. “I don’t mind listening to you cry.”
I nodded slowly and looked down at the floor. I was going to say that I wouldn’t, even if he didn’t mind, but I didn’t know if I could stick to that. I needed him, even if he didn’t need me in the same way. I looked back up and cleared my throat. “Fuck me,” I said very softly.
He squinted at me as he closed the pantry door, staring at me and trying to figure out what was going on with me. I knew I was acting weird. I wasn’t surprised that he was confused. “Taylor… don’t start again. Do you want to watch a movie? Or I can drive you back home.”
I shook my head and stepped closer so I was on the other side of the island, as close as I could get without walking around. “No. I don’t want to go back home, and I don’t want to watch a movie. I want what I said I wanted. I want you to fuck me…. For real this time.”
I’m not really sure why I wanted that. I always thought that if it ever happened again between Zachary and I, it would be much more romantic than this. I suppose I wanted him because at that moment I wasn’t scared- there were scarier things in life- like cancer slowly eating away at your colon- whatever that was anyway. I wanted him because I needed someone to touch me and hold me and make me feel less alone. I wanted him because I knew even if he was trying to act nonchalant, I knew he wanted me, and I wanted to make things up to him.
He stood there staring and then licked his lips. The next thing he did confused me. He walked over and carefully took the cordless phone off the hook. We both stood there and listened to the empty dial tone and only then did I realize that it implied he’d accepted my offer. Suddenly I was nervous. He ran his fingers through his hair in a way that I could tell he was feeling awkward, which was strange for him, because he rarely felt awkward. He walked around the island to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close against him and kissing me deeply.
And I was cursed. Instantly I forgot about my father, about my mother crying, about the place at the dining room table that would be eternally empty when he passed. At that moment, Zachary was all that mattered. I let myself become intoxicated by him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my palm against his face, kissing him back eagerly and letting him start walking us back towards his bedroom. The kissing was loud and intense and I wanted to think that it was the type of kissing you’d see in a movie, but it wasn’t anything close to film worthy. It felt aggressive and uncoordinated and for once the spontaneity felt amazing. We tripped over each other and landed on his bed, him on top of me as I scrambled to try and pull his shirt off.
I hate that- how long it takes to completely undress someone when you’re making out. You don’t want to pull away, but it would be so much easier to just say, ‘Okay stand up and take your clothes off and I’ll do the same.’ Obviously it would ruin the mood, but at that moment I was so frustrated tugging at fabrics and trying to kiss him at the same time, that I was really tempted to do that. And he was dressed in sneakers and socks. What a fucking pain in the ass.
I trailed my fingers down his stomach once his shirt was off and slid them under the waistband of his jeans. I loved that, feeling the contrast between the skin on his stomach and the warmness of the skin right under the waistband of his pants. It made me feel like I was somewhere where no one else has been- and at that moment I let myself believe that I was. He slid off the bed and onto the floor, kneeing in front of the bed while I just laid there feeling kind of stupid because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now. He was too far to kiss or touch. He put his hands on the waist of my jeans and carefully undid the button, pulling the zipper down so slowly that I’m pretty sure he was just trying to be obnoxious, but whatever, he knew I loved the pain of waiting for it.
He began to pull my jeans off my hips and I bet he was happy I wasn’t decked out in socks and shoes like he was. I smiled faintly as I imagined not bothering to take his socks and shoes off and how awkward that would be to be fucked by someone completely naked except for a part of nikes.
“What are you smiling at,” he mumbled, lowering his lips down to my lower stomach and kissing along my warm skin, bringing his lips lower and lower so they teased the skin right above the waistband of my boxers.
“How much I want you…..” I said softly, because it sounded a lot better than ‘the thought of you fucking me in your nikes’.
For some reason I felt calm. Calmer than I expected to feel when we finally got to this point. There was something beneficial about your father dying at least. Everything else didn’t seem like such a big deal all of a sudden. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax and enjoy the feeling of his lips against me. Zac put me at ease; he always had.
He slowly pulled my boxers down and moaned gently against my skin which caused me to let out my own sigh of pleasure. I felt my boxers and jeans get dragged to the floor and then I felt him pushing my legs apart and placing his palms on my thighs. I took a sharp breath as I felt myself harden and released the breath when he wrapped his mouth around the head of my dick.
I dug my hands into the bed, gripping his sheets since he’d given me his comforter in the middle of the night, and couldn’t help but let my hips rise up from the bed. He pressed down on my thighs and let his mouth drag down my length, taking me deep into his mouth in a way that I thought might make me feel embarrassed about the incident the other night, but at that moment just made me feel good.
He dragged his tongue along the underside of my dick as he sucked, and I got completely lost in his motions- so lost that I almost finished off right there before anything had really started. Somehow he seemed to know just when to pull away.
I opened my eyes when I felt the cool air in his loft make contact with my wet dick, and shifted a little because it felt uncomfortable with him no longer there. I watched as he stood up and began to undo his jeans was a little relieved he was going to strip for me, I wanted to cut to the chase. I really wasn’t nervous yet. I had no clue why. Maybe I was still feeling numb. I smiled faintly as I watched him silently kick his shoes off and toss his socks down on top of them. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles and looped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, but he didn’t do anything else. He just stood there looking at me.
“Slid up and roll over,” he said simply.
I did as I was told, sliding up to the top of the bed and laying on my stomach, resting my cheek against his pillows. I hoped they’d smell like him but they didn’t really, they must have been pretty clean.
I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax to get ready for him. I waited for him but the next thing I heard was him tearing something open- something plastic and crinkly. I looked over my shoulder and didn’t even know what to think. He was opening a fucking condom. A condom? I’d never been close to a condom before, I’d never really needed to. We’d never used one when we were together before… we never had a reason to. It’s not like someone could get pregnant.
I didn’t know what to say. He eventually saw me and raised an eyebrow, crawling onto the bed and rolling it onto himself.
I laid my head back down and took a slow breath. Now I was nervous. This felt like new territory now. Just the condom reminded me of how much time had passed and how different we were now- how different this was going to be. I was starting to regret I hadn’t waited for something more romantic.
He crawled on top of me and pulled my waist up a little, gripping my hip tight with his hand and holding the base of dick with the other hand, I’m pretty sure at least- I couldn’t quite see. I squeezed my eyes closed and heard him ask- ‘Ready?’. His voice was deep and scratchy like it always got when he was getting ready to have sex- I loved it usually. He was acting very nonchalant about all of this. It used to be more of a production. It felt so emotionless this time.
I swallowed and nodded slowly. “Yes,” I managed to say softly. But I wasn’t sure if I was. I didn’t know what the hell was going on suddenly! My confidence and content attitude that I’d had a few moments before was gone because of a fucking condom.
I took a slow breath and tried to relax and felt the tip of him pressing against me and it automatically didn’t feel the same- it felt rubbery and foreign.
“Wait,” I squeezed, turning my best to see him, letting out a heavy breath.
He paused his motion and pulled his hip back a little. I expected him to say something. He used to say a ton during sex! But that day he didn’t.
I looked at him and swallowed. “I just… I’m just surprised you... I’m just confused as to why we’re using a condom.”
He looked me over and raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s safe?”
“Safe from what…” I asked naively.
He rolled his eyes faintly and grabbed my hips a little tighter again. “I don’t want to give you anything, okay?
Oh. My. God.
He cleared his throat. “Now, are you ready?”
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Zaylor / Hancest
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks to: Honor @beyondthethorns
About the story: Zac & Taylor's relationship broke up when they got caught kissing by the press and their career were over in a split of a second. To continue a normal life and to take a break from his brother, Taylor starts to study at a College in London but the long distance between them can't stop their feelings for each other.
Sorry for the delay. I needed the time to test my pathetic photoshop skills for creating a new
banner that would match to this Chapter.
Enjoy reading ♥
Rating: R for language and boooysex
They say you can tell a lot about someone from their home. I’m not sure that I believe that. Zachary’s apartment seems nothing like him, unless you look at things really up close. There are clean lines and no clutter in his place- the furniture is contemporary and his bedroom walls are plastered with Star Wars and video game characters posters.
Most importantly, you wouldn’t be able to figure out that my brother sucks cock from the look of his apartment. There’s not a single zebra print rug or fuzzy lamp shade in sight. It looks perfectly heterosexual, and I’m not sure if that’s intentional or if that’s just him. Did I mention his favorite color is blue? You will notice very soon when you look around in his apartment.
When you look up close you can see my brother, and even if I didn’t know who lived there, I could figure out that it was Zachary. In his freezer are bags and bags of frozen chicken nuggets. I’m still waiting for him to grow out of the chicken nugget phase, but I suppose he might never. He claims they’re quick and easy and delicious. He has the bags neatly stacked by expiration dates and the top bag is wrapped up with a rubber band to keep it fresh. I’ve never met another 17 year old guy who takes the time to do that.
There’s a roll of toilet paper waiting on the back of the toilet for when the current roll runs out and his cable bill is hug up on his fridge so he doesn’t forget to pay it, and truly, its incredible what a contradiction he is. But he’s always been like this. I supposed I’ll never understand how someone so unpredictable and unorganized can keep the rest of his life so perfectly put together- but that’s how he’s always been.
Growing up he made his bed everyday and washed the sink out when he was done brushing his teeth to make sure there wasn’t a single trace of spitty toothpaste on the ceramic. And I’m not saying he was a Danny Tanner or a germophobe, he’s not that cliché, but he has always been clean and organized in a way that I’ll never understand.
I was sitting at his computer when he got home. I wasn’t sure if he’d mind but I made sure I didn’t snoop- I just sat there and withdrew myself from my classes in London and
read some of the mails again Zac and I had sent each other. Somehow it made me really sad that everything seems so perfect by the time when our relationship only virtual existed.
He stepped in the door around 6 pm, I turned off his computer immediately, I had more important things to deal with. Dwelling on the past didn't help me to keep me from worrying about him. I was scared he was still furious with me. I swiveled his chair around so I was facing him and looked him over. “I didn’t know it I could use your computer, but I figured you wouldn’t mind….”
He licked his lips and set some bags down on the counter. “Mhm.”
I wasn’t sure if it was an angry response or not, but I tried not to obsess over it. “Can we…. can we talk?”
Zac sighed and began pulling things out of the bag- eggs, a bag of two green peppers, a box of pop tarts. He’d been grocery shopping apparently, although I’m sure it didn’t take him four hours. I wondered where he was the rest of the time.
“I hate when people ask that. If you want to talk, talk. We’re talking right now, you don’t need to offer me an invitation to a conversation,” he said, walking the poptarts over to his pantry before going back to unpacking the plastic grocery bags.
I stood up and walked towards him. “No. Stop unpacking. I want to sit down and talk Zac.” It was hard to be brave when he was being so rude to me. I wasn’t used to this. Even when we were hardly speaking for two years, he wasn’t this cold.
He opened his mouth and looked at me in a way that it looked like he was going to yell, but he just sighed and set down the box of gogurt he was unpacking. I smiled faintly at that fact that he was getting gogurt, because it really was endearing. He turned and walked towards the living room couch, lifting up the blankets that I’d forgotten to fold when I woke up, and suddenly I felt like an ass for not making my space look a little more put together. I walked into his living room with him and watched him fold the blankets and make a pile of them on the arm of the couch. Then we sat down and both just kind of stared at the floor, waiting for each other to speak.
I knew I needed to start though. “I’m really sorry…. I was acting so angry with you yesterday.”
He laughed a little and shook his head, looking towards the kitchen. “Listen, I don’t want to sit here and listen to this. I’d rather unpack my groceries.”
I don’t know why that seemed to make him mad and it made me want to turn back and give up but I refused to. I moved closer to him and even worked up the nerve to place my hand on his leg. “Zac… I’m sorry okay? I had no right to be angry with you….. I was just so confused about why you were acting so nonchalant about everything and I just didn’t know how to take it. I thought you just didn’t give a damn and that made me angry, but I realize now that you do care…. Probably so much that you don’t know what to say.”
Zachary laughed a little and shook his head. He stood up and walked back to the kitchen. I hated the way he was laughing. It made me feel dumb. He did that purposefully too. “I was acting like I don’t care because I don’t care Taylor. Dad’s old. Old people die. It was going to happen sooner or later. Cancer is not a rare thing, and Grandpa died of the same thing. Is it really that surprising?”
What? I was stunned. I had spent the entire morning thinking about my father’s words about how Zac did care, he was just acting angry and like he didn’t give a fuck because he was too tough to cry about it. I had spent the whole morning thinking about how sorry I was that I had been selfish the day before and hated Zachary for the way he was coping with the news. And now he was just telling me that he really didn’t give two shits? I couldn’t even get mad. I didn’t have it in me anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it.
“You just don’t…. give a shit?” I said quietly, turning in the couch and looking at him beginning to upack groceries again.
He shrugged and grabbed a big pack of cokes and walked it to the fridge, carefully clearing out space for it and sliding the pack in. “I just don’t care Taylor. People die. Every relationship is temporary. There is always an end. If you want to cry about it, fine. Cry about it. You can even cry about it to me, I’ll listen. But I’m not going to cry with you. And you can hate me for that if you want, but that’s just me and the reality. And I’m sorry that it’s not more comforting to you, Taylor. I really am.” He turned and closed the fridge and looked in at me. “I mean that. I really am sorry that I can’t… see this the way you’re seeing it…. That I’m like almost inhuman about it. I just…. Death is natural Taylor, and I just can’t seem to cry and hoping for unreal miracles about something that is going to eventually happen to all of us.”
It was blunt, and it was honest, and I wouldn’t expect anything else from him, but I never saw it coming. I never really did think he just didn’t care. It was heart breaking and confusing, but I wasn’t mad about it. I couldn’t be mad at him for not being in as much pain as me. I was happy he couldn’t feel what I felt.
I nodded and swallowed, standing up from the couch and walking towards him. “I won’t make you listen to me cry,” I said quietly. I was beginning to accept it, that my father, at age 52, way before his time, was dying.
He smiled faintly and I watched him swallow hard too. He looked down and took the final groceries out of the bag, putting them into the pantry. “I don’t mind listening to you cry.”
I nodded slowly and looked down at the floor. I was going to say that I wouldn’t, even if he didn’t mind, but I didn’t know if I could stick to that. I needed him, even if he didn’t need me in the same way. I looked back up and cleared my throat. “Fuck me,” I said very softly.
He squinted at me as he closed the pantry door, staring at me and trying to figure out what was going on with me. I knew I was acting weird. I wasn’t surprised that he was confused. “Taylor… don’t start again. Do you want to watch a movie? Or I can drive you back home.”
I shook my head and stepped closer so I was on the other side of the island, as close as I could get without walking around. “No. I don’t want to go back home, and I don’t want to watch a movie. I want what I said I wanted. I want you to fuck me…. For real this time.”
I’m not really sure why I wanted that. I always thought that if it ever happened again between Zachary and I, it would be much more romantic than this. I suppose I wanted him because at that moment I wasn’t scared- there were scarier things in life- like cancer slowly eating away at your colon- whatever that was anyway. I wanted him because I needed someone to touch me and hold me and make me feel less alone. I wanted him because I knew even if he was trying to act nonchalant, I knew he wanted me, and I wanted to make things up to him.
He stood there staring and then licked his lips. The next thing he did confused me. He walked over and carefully took the cordless phone off the hook. We both stood there and listened to the empty dial tone and only then did I realize that it implied he’d accepted my offer. Suddenly I was nervous. He ran his fingers through his hair in a way that I could tell he was feeling awkward, which was strange for him, because he rarely felt awkward. He walked around the island to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close against him and kissing me deeply.
And I was cursed. Instantly I forgot about my father, about my mother crying, about the place at the dining room table that would be eternally empty when he passed. At that moment, Zachary was all that mattered. I let myself become intoxicated by him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my palm against his face, kissing him back eagerly and letting him start walking us back towards his bedroom. The kissing was loud and intense and I wanted to think that it was the type of kissing you’d see in a movie, but it wasn’t anything close to film worthy. It felt aggressive and uncoordinated and for once the spontaneity felt amazing. We tripped over each other and landed on his bed, him on top of me as I scrambled to try and pull his shirt off.
I hate that- how long it takes to completely undress someone when you’re making out. You don’t want to pull away, but it would be so much easier to just say, ‘Okay stand up and take your clothes off and I’ll do the same.’ Obviously it would ruin the mood, but at that moment I was so frustrated tugging at fabrics and trying to kiss him at the same time, that I was really tempted to do that. And he was dressed in sneakers and socks. What a fucking pain in the ass.
I trailed my fingers down his stomach once his shirt was off and slid them under the waistband of his jeans. I loved that, feeling the contrast between the skin on his stomach and the warmness of the skin right under the waistband of his pants. It made me feel like I was somewhere where no one else has been- and at that moment I let myself believe that I was. He slid off the bed and onto the floor, kneeing in front of the bed while I just laid there feeling kind of stupid because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now. He was too far to kiss or touch. He put his hands on the waist of my jeans and carefully undid the button, pulling the zipper down so slowly that I’m pretty sure he was just trying to be obnoxious, but whatever, he knew I loved the pain of waiting for it.
He began to pull my jeans off my hips and I bet he was happy I wasn’t decked out in socks and shoes like he was. I smiled faintly as I imagined not bothering to take his socks and shoes off and how awkward that would be to be fucked by someone completely naked except for a part of nikes.
“What are you smiling at,” he mumbled, lowering his lips down to my lower stomach and kissing along my warm skin, bringing his lips lower and lower so they teased the skin right above the waistband of my boxers.
“How much I want you…..” I said softly, because it sounded a lot better than ‘the thought of you fucking me in your nikes’.
For some reason I felt calm. Calmer than I expected to feel when we finally got to this point. There was something beneficial about your father dying at least. Everything else didn’t seem like such a big deal all of a sudden. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax and enjoy the feeling of his lips against me. Zac put me at ease; he always had.
He slowly pulled my boxers down and moaned gently against my skin which caused me to let out my own sigh of pleasure. I felt my boxers and jeans get dragged to the floor and then I felt him pushing my legs apart and placing his palms on my thighs. I took a sharp breath as I felt myself harden and released the breath when he wrapped his mouth around the head of my dick.
I dug my hands into the bed, gripping his sheets since he’d given me his comforter in the middle of the night, and couldn’t help but let my hips rise up from the bed. He pressed down on my thighs and let his mouth drag down my length, taking me deep into his mouth in a way that I thought might make me feel embarrassed about the incident the other night, but at that moment just made me feel good.
He dragged his tongue along the underside of my dick as he sucked, and I got completely lost in his motions- so lost that I almost finished off right there before anything had really started. Somehow he seemed to know just when to pull away.
I opened my eyes when I felt the cool air in his loft make contact with my wet dick, and shifted a little because it felt uncomfortable with him no longer there. I watched as he stood up and began to undo his jeans was a little relieved he was going to strip for me, I wanted to cut to the chase. I really wasn’t nervous yet. I had no clue why. Maybe I was still feeling numb. I smiled faintly as I watched him silently kick his shoes off and toss his socks down on top of them. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles and looped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, but he didn’t do anything else. He just stood there looking at me.
“Slid up and roll over,” he said simply.
I did as I was told, sliding up to the top of the bed and laying on my stomach, resting my cheek against his pillows. I hoped they’d smell like him but they didn’t really, they must have been pretty clean.
I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax to get ready for him. I waited for him but the next thing I heard was him tearing something open- something plastic and crinkly. I looked over my shoulder and didn’t even know what to think. He was opening a fucking condom. A condom? I’d never been close to a condom before, I’d never really needed to. We’d never used one when we were together before… we never had a reason to. It’s not like someone could get pregnant.
I didn’t know what to say. He eventually saw me and raised an eyebrow, crawling onto the bed and rolling it onto himself.
I laid my head back down and took a slow breath. Now I was nervous. This felt like new territory now. Just the condom reminded me of how much time had passed and how different we were now- how different this was going to be. I was starting to regret I hadn’t waited for something more romantic.
He crawled on top of me and pulled my waist up a little, gripping my hip tight with his hand and holding the base of dick with the other hand, I’m pretty sure at least- I couldn’t quite see. I squeezed my eyes closed and heard him ask- ‘Ready?’. His voice was deep and scratchy like it always got when he was getting ready to have sex- I loved it usually. He was acting very nonchalant about all of this. It used to be more of a production. It felt so emotionless this time.
I swallowed and nodded slowly. “Yes,” I managed to say softly. But I wasn’t sure if I was. I didn’t know what the hell was going on suddenly! My confidence and content attitude that I’d had a few moments before was gone because of a fucking condom.
I took a slow breath and tried to relax and felt the tip of him pressing against me and it automatically didn’t feel the same- it felt rubbery and foreign.
“Wait,” I squeezed, turning my best to see him, letting out a heavy breath.
He paused his motion and pulled his hip back a little. I expected him to say something. He used to say a ton during sex! But that day he didn’t.
I looked at him and swallowed. “I just… I’m just surprised you... I’m just confused as to why we’re using a condom.”
He looked me over and raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s safe?”
“Safe from what…” I asked naively.
He rolled his eyes faintly and grabbed my hips a little tighter again. “I don’t want to give you anything, okay?
Oh. My. God.
He cleared his throat. “Now, are you ready?”
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Date: 2012-12-09 09:37 pm (UTC)