![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teamzaylor) wrote2012-07-24 07:07 pm
Title: INK
CHAPTER 2: LOCK YOUR FUCKIN' DOOR
Rating: NC-17 (cause everything else isn’t worth the Time)
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 ;-)
Woot, another chapter! Some sex, nothing too hardcore ;-).
Do you remember when I said that because my house is so wild, things often go unnoticed? Well, that is precisely the reason it is so easy for the Hanson men to bring home women to sleep with. You grab a girl by the hand and lead her up to your bedroom, and your family either thinks it’s your sister or they ignore the situation all together. It works out rather well for my oldest brother and myself, and hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if my father’s done it on occasion. Taylor seems to be the only male virgin under the Hanson roof besides my little brother Mackenzie, but he’s 8, so he’s got an excuse.
“Zachary!” My mother’s shrill is audible from anywhere within a 6000 mile radius. This kind of shrill is necessary when you live in a house with so many people, so I don’t hold it against her. “Zachary! Dinner will be ready in an hour!”
Candy and I sat on my bed upstairs. She was already unclipping her bra and lifting her shirt over her head.
“Alright, ma!” I screamed at the closed door and turned my attention back to Candy. An hour was enough to get ‘er done. Shit, with my expertise, it’d probably only take a few minutes.
We each got naked, skipped the foreplay, and headed straight for home base. I lay down on the bed and let her slip on a condom before she straddled my thighs and slowly eased herself onto me.
“Mmmm, Zac,” she moaned throatily, grabbing at her own breasts. I smirked and held her hips, making sure I angled myself just right before thrusting into her as hard as I could. Girls liked that, as I’d learned through experience. Movies always lead you to believe that women want a sentimental man who’ll “make love” and not “fuck”, but movies are liars. All the girls I’m with want it hard and fast, and because I’m such a generous and selfless man, I comply.
After a couple a minutes we really started getting into it. She rode me fast…breathe…so fast…breathe…and my eyes were focused on her pretty lips as I pulled her down by her hair to kiss me. And I kept fucking her, and her body was so hot and wet. And I was so hot and wet. Breathe, remember to breathe. Fuck, shit, almost there, so..close…so….
“FUCK!” Candy screamed, but not for the reason I thought she’d be screaming. She threw her hands over her breasts and stared in horror at the open door, where Taylor was standing with huge eyes and an open mouth. He looked like he was ready to cry…seriously.
Candy rolled off me and onto the floor, taking the sheets with her and leaving me totally exposed. Taylor, who was clearly in shock from the sight of someone get lucky, dramatically slammed the door that connected our rooms. I could hear him lean his back against his side of the door and slide to the floor. Honestly, I wasn’t quite sure why he was so upset. Candy gathered her clothes and screamed “ASSHOLE” before walking out of my room and slamming the door behind her. My boner was pretty much dead by then, and the only thing left to do was go scream at my retarded brother for ruining my good time. I mean really, the nerve of some people…
“Taylor!” a boxer-brief’d and tube socked clad me screamed as I walked into my brother’s room (using the regular door, of course). “What the hell was that?” Taylor was still sitting against his door, clearly shaken up over the whole ordeal. His slumped shoulders and shaking hands almost made me forget that he’d just blue-balled me, indirectly, of course. But alas, my memory is too sharp for such nonsense.
“Why didn’t you knock?” I pressed, though gentler, as I slid down next to him. He just shrugged.
“Sorry,” was the only word that escaped his lips. He really did look close to tears.
“Hey…I’m sorry, I forgot to lock this door.” I raised my fist and knocked back on the wood, smiling a little at him. It was odd, I actually felt sort of…bad for making him feel guilty. Obviously it wasn’t his fault, but that never stopped anyone from blaming him before. “Blame Taylor” was sort of the Hanson motto, and while we all thought it was pretty clever…well, he didn’t. At least I didn’t think. I mean I didn’t really know, I never asked him, but if I were him I wouldn’t find it too amusing.
He shrugged again, his knees bent and his ink’d up arm clutching his thigh. My eyes wandered over his arm, noting that the complexity of the tattoo would be hazardous to any epileptic. The black was thick around his forearm and ran thinner over the top of his hand and between his fingers. Carefully, I traced my index finger over one of the lines. His eyes watched my finger as it traveled down his arm and in between his lank fingers.
“What’s this mean?” I inquired. He looked at me as if I had 10 heads and pulled his hand away from mine quickly.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said shakily as he got up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Jesus Christ, moody.
Dinner that night was loud, as usual. Flying peas and screaming over each other and tales of that day’s activities- you know- a typical 13 person meal. At some point after serving my 11 year old sister Avery, my mother interrupted the noise.
“Isaac, who was that girl that was here earlier?” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow and daintily cut her steak.
“Shewaddn’mine,” Ike answered, mouth full o’ potatoes. All eyes immediately fell on me, as I expected…and was somewhat proud of.
“Her name’s Candy,” I answered, nonchalantly waving my fork in the air, “she was just hanging out.”
“I bet she was,” my grandpa sniggered into his cranberry juice. My mother shot him the look.
“Well why didn’t you invite her to stay for dinner?” My father asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin. And I couldn’t help but…
“Because Taylor chased her outta here before I could get that far.” All eyes on Taylor. Ike laughed.
“So, so you’re sayin’…oh no, seriously Zac? Lock your fuckin’ door!” My grandmother choked on her peas and my sister Jessica giggled. “I bet…” Ike continued, food spilling out of his mouth, “I bet she took one look at him and thought why can't your stupid sister knock at the door before entering?” The whole table was laughing by then except for Taylor, my mother, and me. The joke wasn’t even funny, they were just laughing because it was made at Taylor’s expense. He sat there with his fork in his hand, staring at his dinner plate, his blonde bangs in his eyes. Slowly and quietly, he moved his chair back from the table, placed his fork on his plate, and left the room.
It was sad that no one noticed except for me.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
This makes me so curious about Taylor, too.
<3
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject