A Mistake
The club was packed, not the least of which because Melissa brought along a few other library work study friends. Zac wished she would have mentioned that, but it wasn’t like any of them knew him or had any reason to judge him in any way. If they were friends with Melissa, he had to assume they were okay.
They were just loud. And drunk. Very, very drunk.
Zac felt a weird need to be protective of these girls, who were all so very sloppy. They weren’t that likely to fall prey to some guy, given that it was a gay bar, but they were still very noticeable and would be lucky to hold onto their dinners with the amount of alcohol they had consumed.
“You’re really, really cute,” one of the girls said. Zac thought her name was Sylvia or something equally old fashioned that really didn’t suit someone wearing such a short skirt. It did suit a librarian, though, and that thought made Zac laugh a little.
“Thanks,” he replied, dutifully averting his eyes from the cleavage she was practically shoving in his face.
“I just think it’s really neat how you are so comfortable, you know? Like, I tried to get my ex to wear some eyeliner once, and he freaked out.”
Zac felt himself blush, his eyes automatically going to Taylor. He had asked permission, but had applied his own makeup that night. It was just a touch of glitter, a color that Taylor picked out for him, smeared across his eyelids, but he had to admit, he did like the effect.
“Thanks,” he managed to choke out. “I, umm—I had some help with it.”
Sylvia glanced at Taylor and giggled. Zac would have worried what Taylor thought, except he had a girl of his own to contend with—although, from the sound of things, he was giving her some great advice about contouring.
Zac shot Melissa a look and she just laughed, pulling a face that was a perfect imitation of how Sylvia was fawning over him. Zac could barely stop himself from laughing back.
“Hey, girls,” Melissa said, raising her voice to be heard over the din of the crowd. “Why don’t you go get another round of drinks for us all? Put it on my tab.”
As soon as the girls had walked away, Zac felt like he could breathe again. Taylor let out a loud laugh, but he seemed much less effected.
“I think you have an admirer,” he said.
Zac rolled his eyes. “I think I have my very first fag hag.”
“Hey!” Melissa swatted his arm. “I clearly applied for that title months ago, thank you very much.”
“You are so much more than that, and you know it,” Zac replied, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Zac glanced back at Taylor, wondering again if he had gone too far. He was still unsure of the boundaries of their current relationship, though he knew Taylor was, as well.
“You do look nice tonight,” Taylor said so softly that he was barely audible in the din of the club. “You should wear a little makeup more often.”
“I don’t want to, like, steal your thing,” Zac replied, feeling himself blushing again. It was a good thing he hadn’t borrowed any of Taylor’s rouge; he clearly had no need for it.
“I don’t have a monopoly on makeup or gender bending… or looking hot as hell.” The last was added as almost an afterthought, the words so low Zac wouldn’t have been able to make them out at all if he hadn’t followed the curves of Taylor’s shimmery lips.
“I don’t know about that,” Zac replied.
Before he could say anything else and incriminate himself further, the girls came back with a round of tequila shots. Zac gladly accepted his and downed it quickly. He watched the way Taylor’s throat bobbed as he swallowed his own—just in case he needed further evidence that he was absolutely gone for his brother.
Not that Taylor seemed to mind. He met Zac’s eye, and while the girls were absorbed in giggling over their own shots, he held out his hand.
“Wanna dance?”
Zac could only nod in response. Taylor had to know he was powerless to resist him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know the song and had no rhythm at all when he wasn’t behind a drum set—something he realized he hadn’t been for years anyway. Yet he was drawn to the dance floor like a magnet, unable to look away from Taylor’s magnificent form, his hips already swaying even as he walked.
Taylor put both hands on Zac’s hips, pulling him in close. With that much guidance, it was easy enough to follow Taylor’s lead. Zac wasn’t sure they were dancing to the beat of the song at all, but he didn’t mind. He only wanted to be this close to Taylor forever. The fact that they were in public only made it better; it was their own private moment but everyone could still see it.
They danced for more songs than Zac could count, and by the time they ran out of energy, collapsing into each other’s arms as they walked back to the table, Zac was sure he had burnt off every bit of alcohol he had consumed.
“Why don’t I get the next round? My treat.” Taylor squeezed Zac’s waist, looking like he wanted to do more. Zac wasn’t sure what held him back, especially in a place like this.
“Sure,” Zac said, swallowing around the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.
Zac ignored Melissa’s stare as Taylor walked away. He knew her well enough to know when she had something to say, and he knew she wasn’t going to keep it bottled up for very long.
“Alright, say it,” Zac hissed, not meeting her eyes.
“I’m not saying anything,” Melissa said. Barely a second had passed, not even time for a breath, when she continued, “I just think you two are fucking precious and if you don’t see it, and I mean both of you. If you can’t see it and figure out how to stop being so afraid and just be together, then I don’t know what to do with you.”
“I’m really not the one you need to be talking to about this,” Zac replied. “I know what I want. I may not know how to show it or be worthy of it or anything, but I know. It’s Taylor who keeps… being so hot and cold. And I understand why he’s torn, but I really wish he would just stop being so in his head over it and just let it happen.”
“Speaking of,” Melissa said, craning her neck to look over the crowd. “It’s taking him a long time. Do you want to go see if he needs help?”
Zac stared toward the bar. Taylor was tall enough, especially with the boots he’d worn, to stand out above the crowd. Zac didn’t see him at all. That nagging intuition hit him full force, like a punch to the gut.
“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. “I’m going to go look for him. You stay here.”
Zac walked away before Melissa could complain or object to that. The bar was large, but he was certain that he could spot Taylor in any crowd, even one composed primarily of other beautiful, feminine men. It was just the connection they had, the unfailing magnetic draw of Taylor. If he was there, Zac would find him, and he had no reason to believe that Taylor would have left.
Still, he didn’t seem to be anywhere inside the club. Not knowing what else to do, Zac stepped outside. There was a covered area for smokers around the side that was isolated from the rest of the club, and he was drawn to it, even though the smell made him gag. Taylor didn’t smoke, as far as he knew, but it couldn’t hurt to look.
As he entered the area, a tall, dark man pushed past him, hitting Zac’s shoulder so hard hat it almost spun him around. It would have been comical if it hadn’t been painful. The man was gone in a flash, leaving Zac with only the vague impression that he’d seen him somewhere before, though he couldn’t remember where.
Zac spun back around, and his eyes were drawn to the corner, where a group of guys were gathered, circling around someone. It took Zac longer than he cared to admit to realize the guy at the middle of the circle was Taylor. He rushed forward, murmuring apologies that belayed how anxious he was to get to his brother. Once they had finally parted to let him in, he stopped in his tracks.
A bruise was already blooming on Taylor’s cheek, swollen and visible through his makeup. A finger dabbed at his lip, and Zac knew the redness on it was blood, not lipstick. He was frozen. He wanted to rush forward and comfort Taylor, but he could not at all process what he was seeing.
“Zac,” Taylor breathed out, the name imbued with a strange hint of guilt, as though Zac was not supposed to be seeing this at all.
“What—what happened?” Zac managed to stutter out.
One of the nameless, faceless guys huddled around Taylor started to move toward him, as though he somehow thought Zac was a threat.
“No, he’s—” Taylor began, then cut himself off, eyes wide. “He’s fine. Please, it’s okay.”
Zac knew that neither of the words that came to mind where what Taylor wanted to use, but he had hoped that at least one of them would have felt right. Apparently not. But there were bigger things to worry about right then, Zac knew. He stepped in and carefully pushed back a strand of Taylor’s hair.
“What happened?” He repeated.
“A mistake,” Taylor said, his eyes blank. “A really big mistake. Can we just go home?”
Zac swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. “Do you want to go back in and say goodbye to Melissa? Can you handle that?”
“I really just want to go,” Taylor said.
“Okay,” Zac replied. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to her, knowing he would have to explain in more detail later—if he had more detail later.
Zac wrapped his arm around Taylor’s waist and guided him toward the street. It was only a matter of seconds before a cab came along, and Zac wondered if perhaps he should suggest an ambulance instead. He didn’t voice that concern.
Zac helped Taylor into the cab first, then settled in next to him, rattling off their address to the driver. Taylor’s head fell back against the seat and he let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan of pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Zac asked. “Can you at least tell me what happened? Whose ass I need to kick for you?”
It was phrased as something of a joke, but the way Taylor’s eyes flashed to him and widened with fear said that Taylor didn’t find it amusing at all. Somehow, that only made Zac angrier.
“Will you please tell me what happened?” Zac pleaded.
Taylor’s eyes implored him. “Please, please just drop it. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again after tonight, so can we really just not do this?”
“So there was someone else,” Zac said, the words coming out before he could stop them. It sounded like even more of an accusation than he could have intended.
Taylor turned away, staring intently out the window. That was more than enough answer for Zac. He didn’t even know who he was angry with then—Taylor, the other guy or himself. He had no right to be jealous, but he did have a right to wish death upon any guy would dare punch his beautiful brother. He had never had a chance to stand up for Taylor in the past, to defend him in the way he deserved. He did not want to be denied that right now.
Yet… he felt sick to his stomach at the idea that Taylor had been with someone else. Unfair as it was, he could not shake that feeling, either, and it only made him feel worse to know that he was so weak and petty.
Taylor deserved better—in every sense.