Aug. 1st, 2012

Title: INK

Aug. 1st, 2012 12:58 am
teamzaylor: (The Bodyguard)
Chapter 8: Making Nice

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 is in a band called Aphrodite. Don't wonder about Taylor's tattoo ;-)

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ANOTHER ONE!  Thank you everyone who reads and comments :)

Taylor came back the next day. Avery and I were watching T.V. and doing homework in the living room when he walked in the front door. He didn’t bother to look in our direction, just stumped upstairs theatrically with shoulders hunched over. Now was my chance to apologize.
After I heard his door shut, I abandoned my homework and headed upstairs to go make nice.
“Tay?” I asked, knocking on his door. “Can I please come in?”
“No. I might get some faggot on you.” Ouch. I sighed.
“Please let me in, Tay. I need to talk to you.” When he didn’t answer, I went into my room and opened the connecting door which he’d conveniently forgotten to lock. Taylor was sitting on his bed in his boxers, totally unaware that I was watching him, and nursing what looked like a wound on his upper thigh. I cleared my throat loudly as I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed. He jumped a little and pulled his boxers over the wound, clearly startled by my sudden appearance.
“I said don’t come in,” he muttered through his teeth.
“Well I didn’t listen.”
“Please leave, Zac.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“I said, please leave.”
I shook my head and walked over, sitting next to him on his bed. He frowned a little and winced when I gently glided my index finger over his leg. “What did you do?” I asked. To answer my question, he slowly pulled back the leg of his boxers and lifted up a pretty large square of gauze, revealing an upside down star done in red ink. The surrounding skin was red, raw, and irritated, and when I lifted my eyes to his face he was staring down at his new body art with a bashful smile.
“What’s it mean?” I questioned, lifting his chin with my fingers.
“Nothing,” he said, turning his face away.
“It means something, Taylor.”
“Are you the one who got it?! Are you inside my head?!” He was yelling at me and his voice was angry, but his eyes were hurt.
“Please calm down,” I reasoned, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. You should know something about Taylor: though he’s generally very quiet and withdrawn, he’s not the most mellow-tempered person in the world. Especially with me. When we’re in a normal family setting and Isaac gets everyone to gang up on him, he stays silent, but when it’s just me and him…things tend to get a little more heated. At least he tried. In a brotherly way, of course.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Taylor’s voice shook as he spoke. He was obviously still pretty upset over what I’d said the week before.
“Look,” I began, warily putting my arm around his small waist and keeping my eyes on his face to make sure make sure he has to look at me, “I have no idea why I called you what I did. I was just upset because you kept calling me gay and I’m not.”
“I didn’t call you gay. The word ‘gay’ never came out of my mouth.”
“But that’s what you were implying.”
“Well what else do you expect me to think?” His eyes sent daggers through my body. “You...first you fucking kiss me in the car, then you stick up for me against Ike, and then...” his voice shook even more, “and th-then we have s-sex…more than once, Zac, we had sex a-and I let you have me because you made me th-think you loved me.” He was making my stomach hurt. “God, Zac. I fuckin’ admitted to you that I was gay, on a f-fuckin’ whim, no one else knows…because at that m-moment I trusted you. And you seemed so cool with it and we did all of this stuff that’s so wrong for us to do…and you kept saying all of this shit about feeling something, and “Taylor, do you feel it? I feel something, do you?” and I felt it Zac, I feel it…and I’m scared to death because no one’s ever cared about me in my life, not even a little bit, and I swear to God you have no idea what it feels like, Zac. You have no f-fucking idea what I feel like everyday.” He was right, I didn’t, and by then I was holding him in my arms tightly and he was crying… “You don’t unders-stand how it feels to wake up every morning and f-feel like there’s no reason, no reason to move or do anything because everyone hates you. Everyone hates you for no God damned reason other than that you were born different. My whole family hates me, everyone calls me a chick, my band mates are f-fine but they don’t know I’m gay, and then there’s you…there’s you, Zac. You were just…” he pulled back from me, wiping those baby blues on the back of his arm. “You were being so nice to me.” He hiccupped and rubbed his eyes, looking more like a little boy than I’d ever seen him look before. God, I was such a dick.
I wrapped my arms back around him, making sure I didn’t accidentally hit his new tattoo, and stroked the back of his hair softly. “Shhhh, Taylor. Calm down.” Eventually he stopped crying, and when I released him from my grip, he just looked more tired than anything else. “I’m so sorry I gave you mixed messages, I love you so much. I really, really love you.” And I wasn’t even lying.
 ------------------------------------
We sat in his bed for the rest of the night in the same position. My back was against the wall and I was sitting up, my legs parted with him between them. His head rested against my chest as I placed kisses on the top of his head, smoothing back his blonde hair and rubbing his stomach in small circles, just trying to soothe him. It was odd because I didn’t even feel like being sexual with him in any way; I just wanted to make him feel like he was loved. I wanted to show him that I genuinely cared about him. He had to know that he could trust me.
“Zac?” his hoarse voice broke the silence.
“Hm?”
“I…” he picked at his fingers. “I love you.” I melted.
“I love you too.” My lips pressed into his hair and he closed his eyes, relaxing completely for the first time that evening. “I have a question for you, but I don’t want you to cry.”
“I can’t make any promises…” he smiled a little.
“What’s kept you going for so long? I mean, how can you live in this house?” He sighed and I moved my arm up to hold him across his chest.
“I guess…” he began, “I guess I just had to hope that someday someone would understand me. That someone would love me in any way.” He tilted that beautiful face up to look at me and I smiled down at him. “I guess I found what I was looking for.” Oh God, I was giddy.
“You’re beautiful, Ba-“ but I cut myself off. Could I do that? Would he think I was weird? The last thing I wanted to do was scare him… “Hey Tay, can I…” Meh, nervousness. “Would you think it was weird if I called you ‘Baby’?”
He tilted his face back down and smiled bashfully, then scooted back up and turned his head awkwardly to kiss my cheek.
“I think I’d like that very much.” Meep!
“Okay. I love you, Baby.”
“I love you too.” It felt so good to clear the air. I felt so much lighter, and Taylor definitely did, too.
I kissed him on the cheek one more time and wished him ‘sweet dreams’ before getting up and going into my own room. I had school the next day and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to fall asleep in Taylor’s bed with a house full of nosey relatives.
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