Demos
The weekend goes by far too quickly, in a haze of video games, chocolate ice cream and just enough bourbon to keep me from thinking about Taylor or Carrick. When Monday morning rolls around, and it does long before I’m prepared for it, I have to fix myself a big pot of coffee before I can even begin to think about going into the studio. And I don’t even like coffee.
Just as I told Kate, I drop the kids off at my parents’ house on my way into town. Much to my relief, Shepherd is dragging them off to play a game before Mom has a chance to make small talk about the upcoming nuptials or the record company or anything else that could possibly be awkward. But of course, just because I don’t have to talk about it, doesn’t mean it isn’t going to be awkward.
Since I’m dragging my feet and driving as slow as I possibly can, I make it into the studio several minutes later than we had all agreed to start work that day. That’s not exactly anything weird or even remarkable, though, and I don’t think anyone even notices that I’m late.
As soon as I open the office door, a wall of noise hits me. I can hear some of our newest demos playing, and a quick peek into our office reveals Isaac and Austin huddled around a laptop. A few of our other employees are milling about, but no one even seems to notice me. I’m not complaining, though. Maybe if things are this busy in the office, my complete mental breakdown will slip by unnoticed.
The studio door is wide open, and even before I’ve made it down the hallway I can tell who it is. Someone’s playing the drums and – not to sound conceited – nowhere near as well as I do. Someone else is strumming a bass lazily, not really even trying to match whatever beat the drummer thinks he’s playing. When I reach the doorway, I see that my guess was right – Taylor and Carrick. The two people I didn’t want to see right now.
I stand silently in the doorway, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Taylor glances up at me and falters for a second, one drumstick nearly falling out of his hand. If I didn’t know better, I would say he looks scared. But that’s ridiculous. Why would Taylor be scared of me? Whatever the problem is, he loses the tempo enough to catch Carrick’s attention.
Carrick spins around, flipping his hair back out of his eyes and says, “What’s going – oh. Hey, Zac.”
Something about the way he says my voice sends a chill up my spine. I don’t like it. I rake my hand through my hair and try to focus on a spot just over Carrick’s shoulder. “H-hey. What were you guys playing?”
“Nothing in particular,” Carrick replies, and I could swear he’s avoiding my eyes as well.
“Yeah, we were just messing around,” Taylor says, standing up and setting the drumsticks down. “But there was something I wanted to play for you, now that you’re here. Just something I’ve been working on.”
I frown. Taylor’s been working on something without the rest of us? That’s not unprecedented, but it does make me wonder why he hasn’t mentioned it before. There’s something weird in his eyes – the same, strange blank look he had before he walked out on me at Carrick and Austin’s house. I don’t know what it means, but I still find myself saying, “Okay. Let’s go listen to it, then.”
Taylor gives Carrick a small nod, which Carrick barely returns, then begins walking toward the control booth with long, quick strides. I don’t give Carrick a nod or even a look at all before following behind Taylor.
When I enter the room, Taylor’s leaning over the control board, pulling down the shade on the large window that looks into the studio. Part of my brain wants to ask what he’s doing, but the other part is too busy staring at his ass to even attempt coherent speech. I’m still staring when he turns around, and I don’t glance up soon enough to avoid giving myself away.
He doesn’t comment on it, though. He never does, even though I know he’s caught me staring a million times over the years.
Taylor walks right past me and for a second I think he’s just going to walk out and leave me standing there like an idiot. But he doesn’t. He reaches behind my back, leaning in so close our chests barely touch, and locks the door. The room is so quiet that the little click seems to echo for ages. Taylor’s scent and the warmth of his body linger on me even though he’s gone in seconds, rushing back to the control board and turning on the playback. It’s not a new song at all; I’ve heard this demo time and time again over the last few weeks. It doesn’t even sound like Taylor’s added anything new to it.
“Tay, what’s this all –” I begin to say, but my words are drowned out by the loud music and the sudden crash of Taylor’s lips against mine.
He doesn’t taste like vodka or bubble gum this time – just like Taylor and maybe a hint of coffee. I’m too stunned at first to even kiss him back, but that doesn’t last long. He has me pinned against the door, his hands on my shoulders with a strength I always forget he has, and I can’t even raise my arms to touch like him I want. This time I want to be sure he doesn’t run away, but all I can do is moan pathetically when he nibbles on my bottom lip.
I don’t understand why this is happening at all, but god, I don’t want it to ever stop. It does, though. Taylor pulls back from the kiss and trails his hands down my chest as he falls to his knees. It’s the sort of dramatic, overly rehearsed move that only Taylor could pull off, but I don’t mind at all. My body is still pressed tightly against the door, every nerve ending tingling and my dick is hard as can be. I let out of a loud sigh of relief when Taylor unbuttons, unzips and shoves my pants and underwear down all in one seamless move.
“Taylor,” some stupid rational part of my brain says, but I manage to shut it up before it points out that we’re in the middle of our office, mere feet away from Carrick, and my dick is –
In Taylor’s mouth.
I know he’s done this before, and I really, really don’t want to think about that right now. In one move, he’s got every inch of me in his mouth. His tongue is doing something I can’t even begin to describe and I really want to push his hair out of the way so I can watch, but my arms don’t seem to get the message to move.
Taylor’s absolutely focused on the task at hand – er, mouth. He’s sucking me like his life depended on it, his head bobbing up and down quickly. My dick bumps against the back of his throat and he moans so loudly that I swear I can feel the vibrations all the way down to my toes.
I wish this could last forever. I really fucking do. But my body is a bastard and Taylor is just way, way too good at this. When he presses his tongue against my slit, I can’t stop my hips from rolling forward, forcing him to take me back into his mouth. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. And when he cups my balls in his hand, I know the end is near. I can’t even fight it.
If it weren’t the least of my problems right now, I’d be really bothered by the fact that I’ve suddenly got all the self control of a fourteen year old virgin.
“Tay.” I want to tell him I’m about to come, but I can’t get my mouth to form the words. I think he already knows, though, so I settle for repeating his name over and over as I shoot my load down his throat.
He swallows every single drop, not even flinching as my hips thrust against his mouth. He pulls back and glances up at me, eyes still vacant, as he licks his lips clean. One last, pathetic shudder runs through my body as I watch him. His eyes are away from me so quickly it’s like they were never there and then he’s standing up and walking back to the control board. When he turns the music off, the silence that follows is twice as loud as the song was.
My arms finally decide to move again and I’ve just barely shoved my dick back into my pants when Taylor turns around again. He closes the distance between us quickly, grabbing my hair and pulling my mouth to his. I can taste myself on his lips but I don’t care. Taylor ends the kiss far sooner than I’d like, though, and reaches behind me again to unlock the door.
I scoot to the side, letting him pass by me and out the door without a word. The door slams shut behind him and the sound makes me jump. My body is still on edge, even though it’s all over now. I have to stand there, my back pressed against the wall, and let my breathing slow down before I can even think about walking back into the studio.
It doesn’t matter how long I wait, I’m still shaking like a leaf and I know I probably look like… well, I have no clue, but it can’t possibly be pretty. No matter what, I can’t stay in the control booth forever. Taking one last, long breath, I open the door and walk back out into the studio.
It’s empty.
Carrick’s bass is leaning haphazardly against an amp, its owner nowhere to be found. I walk up and down the hallways and peek into every door, but he’s nowhere. Finally, I step into the main office area, where Isaac and Austin are still crowded around one laptop, while Taylor sits off in a corner at his own computer. He doesn’t even look up at me.
I clear my throat. “Have you guys seen Carrick?”
My voice still sounds breathless and just terrified, but none of them even bat an eye. With less than half a glance in my direction, Austin says, “I think he went home. Said he needed a smoke break.”
I nod and wander off to find a quiet, empty corner where I can sulk. My mind is reeling and I have absolutely no clue what to do or what to even think. As much as I wanted to avoid Carrick, he’s the only person I could possibly talk to about what just happened. But he’s not here.
I was wrong. I can’t avoid Carrick, no matter how much Kate wants me to. I need him. Somehow, I’ve got to figure out how to explain that to him. If I don’t, I think Taylor might finally drive me completely insane.