Sweet Release
Zac
My hands are shaking, and I don’t dare open my eyes Everything is so overwhelming; the feel of Taylor’s body, the sounds he’s making, the barely-restrained emotions threatening to knock me senseless. I can’t remember when I’ve been this turned on, in every sense of the word. As I eagerly lap up my brother’s taste, I can’t get my pants off fast enough. I look up at him, and I don’t even need to ask. I lay back on the floor, and motion for him to join me. I need to be inside him, but I need him to be in control. I can’t let this be like last time, not even a little.
The look of relief on Taylor’s face tells me I’m making the right decision. He smiles in such a grateful, loving way, and I feel my chest ache just a bit more. He crawls down over me, and gives me a long, languid kiss, teasing my lips with his tongue. I rest my hands on his hips, consciously willing myself to keep my grip loose. This is torture, but the sweetest kind, one I’d gladly subject myself to for eternity. A helpless whine comes from my throat, surprising both of us, and he smirks down at me.
“You sure this is what you want?” Tay’s tone is light, almost teasing, but I can see the gravity his words hold. I nod, tightening my hold on him a bit.
“As long as you’re sure.”
He eyes me for a second, looking for some sign of truth, and I hold my breath. But a moment later he kisses me again, assuring me he’s as sure as I am. He moves slowly, still teasing, but that’s just how he is. I do my best not to pull him down, and let him set the pace. His face tenses up as he begins to lower himself onto me, and I reach up to cup his cheek.
“You okay?”
“Mhm,” he replies, nodding. “Just… been a while…” He looks away, his cheeks turning red, and I’m positive that shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. Finally I feel his hips hit mine, and I wrap my arms around him. He’s trembling, and I worry that I’m hurting him, but he gives me a lusty smirk.
“You’re not exactly small, you know.”
Now my cheeks match his, as I roll my eyes and try not to grin. I run a hand up and down his back, gently massaging the tense muscles. He leans into the touch, arching his back and grinding his hips, and I groan. Smirking, he repeats the motion, lifting up for a moment before dropping down again. I let him set the pace, my hands there for balance and nothing more. He moves slowly, almost seeming to tease himself as much as me. It doesn’t take long for both of us to break a sweat, and for my control to become dangerously weak.
“Taylor,” I gasp, leaning up to capture his neck between my teeth. He moans in response, and speeds up just a bit. My hands find the curve of his ass, gripping and pulling him onto me harder. Slow and sensuous is more than wonderful, but I can’t stand it much longer. He senses my need, picking up the pace and burying his face in my neck. I reach between us, wrapping my hand around him; he gasps and throws his head back, looking like a top-rate porn star.
“Zac…”
Taylor
“I know,” he gasps, nibbling my shoulder. “Me too.”
I’m reasonably certain that I didn’t say anything other than his name, yet he still knows exactly what I meant. Sex has never been an emotional thing for me, so it feels ridiculous to say that I’ve never felt this connected to Zac before, but it’s true. Even when we saw each other every day of our lives, I don’t think we understood each other the way we do now. All the walls between us are gone now, though. All that’s left in place of those walls is love. Love and sheer, absolute bliss.
My head falls down onto Zac’s shoulder as we both draw closer and closer to the edge. I snake my hand in between our bodies and cover Zac’s hand with mine. It’s not a big thing, but even that little bit more skin to skin contact with him feels amazing. I know it’s not physically possible, but I wish that every inch of our bodies could touch. This feeling of connectedness, of being practically the same person, needs to never end.
But it will end, and that end is coming closer with every second and every thrust.
I bury my face in Zac’s neck as my orgasm begins, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over my body and leaving me clawing at Zac’s body to anchor myself. My own moans are muffled, and Zac’s sound miles away. He comes seconds after I do, his strong hands pulling my hips down so that I can’t move at all–not that I have any desire to, while I can practically feel his orgasm coursing through my own body.
His hands fall away, but I still don’t move right away. It takes me a few moments to remember how to breathe and regain control of my muscles. Gradually, I peel myself away from Zac, but I don’t stray far. I can’t. I only make it as far as the floor next to him, my body flush against the side of his.
Zac doesn’t say anything, but we’re both still breathing heavily, so I try not to take his silence as a bad sign. Reality is slowly starting to set back in, and the reality is that we’re both sticky, sweaty messes. I start to wipe away from of the sweat on my face, and I feel Zac’s eyes on me. There’s something in his stare that worries me and makes me feel self conscious.
“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice full of so much concern that it scares me a little.
I nod and give him a smile. A drop of wetness rolls down my cheek and onto my lip and I realize that it isn’t sweat at all.
It’s a tear. I’m crying.
Zac
Oh no. I see a tear roll down Taylor’s face, and I panic. Immediately I sit up, my hand reaching out to him but stopping. I don’t know what he needs–comfort, space, words, quiet? I don’t know what to do, all I know is that Tay’s crying and it’s my fault. Again. Was this a mistake? He seemed like he’d wanted it, but maybe that was just my fucked up mind playing tricks on me, because if he had, he wouldn’t be crying, right?
“Tay?” I say slowly, carefully, watching for any sign of what to do.
He shakes his head and wipes away a fat tear. “No, it’s… I’m fine. You didn’t do anything–I mean, nothing’s wrong. It’s just a lot, you know? Overwhelming, I guess.”
I nod; that makes sense. My mind is spinning trying to process it all, so I can only imagine how it must be for Tay, who’d only barely recovered–if even–from his earlier panic attack. I rack my brain for anything that can help; usually I’d just smoke the stress away. Actually, I realize, that isn’t a terrible idea.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I stand up. My legs are all wobbly, and I have to steady myself for a second. I shuffle into the bedroom, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser before sitting on the bed. I’m just pulling my bag of weed and rolling papers when I hear footsteps; a second later, Tay stumbles in, fingers still on the button of my jeans. I look up, and I lose my breath for a second.
Taylor looks even more beautiful than I remembered; his hair is disheveled and hanging in his face, his blue eyes peeking out nervously from behind the golden curtain. I wince as I notice a couple darkening bruises on his neck, but I remind myself that those are marks of love, of passion, not of anger. I smile uneasily and look down, quickly rolling a joint for us to share.
When I stand up he holds a hand out to me, hesitantly. He looks so unsure, and I can’t blame him, but there’s hope in his smile, too. I try to give him a reassuring smile as I take his hand, the two of us heading back into the living room. I sit at one end, and he sits almost at the other; I get the sense the distance is more for my benefit than for his, but right now I want to be close.
“C’mere,” I say, smirking and patting my lap. His eyes light up like I just told him Christmas was coming early this year. He chews his lip for a second, then lays down on his side, his head in my lap. After lighting the joint and taking a small hit, I run my fingers through his hair, and he lets out a contented sigh; I keep stroking his hair and he smiles, closing his eyes.
“How you feeling?” I ask cautiously, passing him the joint. He seems alright, but I need to be sure.
“A little tired and sore,” he replies, a hint of a smirk on his lips. He takes a small hit, his fingers shaking a bit as he passes it back. “Still halfway convinced this has all just been a dream, I think.”
I frown slightly; I know he meant it as a joke, or at least partly, but I feel like I need to convince him that it’s real. Or maybe it’s me that needs convincing. After everything we’ve both been through, it really does feel like this is a hallucination. I stare down at him, running a hand over his cheek. His eyelids flutter as he looks up at me. I feel my breath catch in my throat, but there are words that need to be said, and not out of anger.
“Tay…” I begin. It was so easy to scream it at him, so why is saying it sincerely so much harder? I take a deep hit, stalling; the weed is helping my nerves, but not my eloquence. I open my mouth to speak, but apparently he’s better with words than I am; he always has been, really.
“Not to rehash what we’ve already gone around and around about, but…” He pauses to let out a shaky sigh. “The last three years have basically been a nightmare. I kept hoping I would just wake up and it wouldn’t be real at all, you know? But this… I don’t want to wake up from this. I’d be fine staying just like this for… well, as long as you’ll let me, I guess.”
I can practically feel my heart breaking. I smile, nodding; he’s said almost everything I wanted to, probably more eloquently than I could’ve managed. I feel my eyes stinging, but ignore it and lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss that he eagerly returns.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth, the only words left to say.
“Well,” comes a voice from the doorway, and I freeze, any high I was feeling immediately replaced with panic. I look over, and there he is, standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a surprised smirk on his face. Isaac. “This explains a lot.”