The Illusion Of Normalcy
September 27, 2007
Everything seemed to fall easily back into place after that night. There was still some trepidation, and we didn’t fall into bed with each other immediately – in fact we didn’t do that at all. But we were brothers again, in a way that we hadn’t been since maybe before either one of us was married. It felt normal, like nothing else had in years.
We finished the album quickly, and set off on the promotional tour we had scheduled long before anything had happened to change our plans. Although we had originally envisioned a long, full summer and fall tour, we ended up rearranging it a bit. A few dates had been canceled or pushed back, but it would still be a long trip away from home. I could tell that everyone was nervous about letting me go, but ultimately, they couldn’t stop me. This was what I needed, the final missing piece that would make me feel like me again, wholly.
The plan was to play a few dates in major cities leading up to the official album release a few weeks later, then hit a few of the other dates and cities that were salvaged from the original tour schedule. Nothing too strenuous for me, and it wouldn’t keep us away from our wives for too long, either. I know Kate wanted to come along on the tour, but she also understood, on some level, that the time alone with Taylor (and Isaac, although in a totally different way) would be good for me.
The first tour date was in New York City, and we arrive a day early to do some radio promotion and also to have time to just relax. Even though I do feel totally recovered, I’m not going to complain about a slower paced, somewhat relaxing tour schedule. It will be a nice change of pace from what I’ve become accustomed to over the years.
After an early morning round of radio promo, Taylor heads back to the hotel for a nap, leaving Isaac and me alone for lunch. I promise to bring him back a coffee and a sandwich, but I can’t help feeling a little bit of resentment as I watch him step into a different cab. I try not to let it show, though, as Ike and I hail our own cab and ride to one of our favorite delis that we discovered during our short time living in New York.
Isaac waits until we had sat down with our food to speak, probably so that he has me effectively cornered. “So, is everything okay between you and Taylor?”
“Yeah, why?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes I’m not sure. You’re speaking again, which is nice, but something still seems strange. Can’t put my finger on it.”
I decide now is an appropriate time to bite off a huge chunk of my BLT, largely because it buys me time to think about how I’m going to answer his question and keeps me from having to blurt something out right away. Not that I’m above talking with my mouth full, but on this particular occasion, I’m all for doing anything that will delay replying.
Finally, I can avoid it no longer. “I guess things are still weird, but things are weird with everyone right now. Kate’s finally stopped walking on eggshells around me, but I can tell she’s still weirded out by what happened. Taylor kinda feels like it’s his fault, so… it’s taking him a little longer to feel normal again.”
“He probably feels like it’s his fault because I think everyone in the family, myself included, yelled that at him at some point. But he beat himself up even harder than we did. We didn’t mean it, you know? You just say those things because you’re looking for somewhere to place the blame when something so unexpected, so tragic happens.”
It’s still a little strange to hear anyone talk about what took place while I was in the hospital. Taylor and I haven’t had a serious talk about it since the night in the studio, so I may have some idea how he feels, but there’s obvious still pieces missing from my knowledge. I suppose there always will be, and that’s a feeling I’ll just have to get used to.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t blame him. And he knows that. We talked, but I think it’s still going to take a while for him to really get used to me being… back, I guess.”
Like so many other things I’ve said to everyone, it isn’t the full story. But it’s enough. Over the last few weeks, Isaac has been watching the two of us closer than ever, like he’s looking for some sort of clue. I don’t know if he’s found it, but if he has, he’s not asking all of the questions that must be running through his mind. I’m sure he must have wondered about mine and Taylor’s relationship, but he seems willing to stay a little bit in the dark. And I’m more than willing to let him.
“Well, I just hope it stays that way. We don’t need any more fights or for anything like that to happen again.”
He doesn’t even know how right he is. Or maybe he does. Either way, I agree with him wholeheartedly, and that’s enough to bring that discussion to an end. For the rest of our lunch, we’re focused only on the music and the plan for that night’s concert.
I still can’t get my mind off of Taylor, though. I want to really hear him tell me all about what it felt to be without me. I need to know it all. I’ve agonized over losing him, when I suppose I hadn’t really, for all that it felt real. I want to know his pain just as intimately as I know mine.
There isn’t time to talk, though. After lunch comes sound check, followed by quick showers and an even quicker dinner. Then comes the concert. It feels incredible to be back onstage. It’s been so long. My hands wrap around the drumsticks like they’ve never left, like they are an extension of my body. Nothing will ever compare to how it feels to be onstage, playing music with my brothers. Looking over and seeing both of them there, seeing the way that Taylor glances back at me and gives me a secret little smile, is the best feeling in the world.
And, I’m not gonna lie, something about all of this is turning me on just a little bit. Maybe it’s the music pulsing through my body. Maybe it’s the crowd’s excitement that’s almost a tangible presence in the room. Or maybe it’s that secret little smile of Taylor’s and the way he’s practically making love to his piano.
Whatever it is, I’m surprised I can even manage to focus on the music, and as much I enjoy the concert, I’m not exactly sad when it’s over. I practically run across the stage to take my spot between Taylor and Isaac for our bow. I can feel the electric current passing between us when Taylor grabs my hand, and I know he feels it too. He squeezes my hand a little and I glance over at him. He’s smiling even wider than before, and I don’t think it’s just because we played an awesome set.
I hardly even want to let go of Taylor’s hand, even after the bow is over, but I realize it might look a bit odd if I were to drag him offstage with a death grip on his hand. So I settle for giving him a look that I hope conveys just how much I want some alone time with him once we’re offstage.
We rush backstage, past dozens of people milling about, doing their jobs. This is a pretty nice venue, so there’s a shower we’re free to use and Ike, easily the most hygienic of us three, is quick to rush to it before asking if anyone else wants to shower. I’m just fine with that. It leaves me and Taylor somewhat alone – at least, as alone as we can be in a green room where members of the venue staff and our own staff are constantly walking in and out.
I flop down on the couch, letting myself spread out and relax. All that nervous energy is still flowing through my body, but it feels nice to just sit still, too. Taylor sits down beside me a bit more delicately, and slides close enough to talk privately, but not close enough attract too much attention.
He leans his head toward me. “So, I’ve been thinking…”
“That’s dangerous,” I reply with a grin.
He rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Zac. I thought we should spend some time together tonight. You know, together.”
I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t have time to reply before Isaac is walking back into the room, a towel slung over his shoulder and a new outfit on his back. “You guys coming out to sign autographs, or are you going to shower first?”
“I’m not really feeling up to signing tonight,” I say, hoping that my face doesn’t give me away with one of the smiles I can feel threatening to overtake it. “I think I should just go on back to the bus and lay down. Make an excuse for me?”
Taylor touches my arm sympathetically. “I’ll keep an eye in him. Just in case he starts getting dizzy or anything.”
Part of me hates to play on Ike’s sympathy like this, but it’s the easiest way to get some time alone. It’s so simple and so obvious, and of course he agrees that we should head right back to the bus and relax while he takes care of the fans. I offer him a grateful smile and try my best not to walk too quickly out of the building, lest I give away the fact that I actually feel just fine – more than fine, even.
The bus is parked close to the back doors of the venue and surrounded by venue security, so Taylor and I manage to make our escape without coming face to face with any fans. Not that we have anything against the fans, but if even a single one of them were to stop us, we’d inevitably have to stay and sign a few autographs, and it could easily be an hour or more before we’re able to pry ourselves away from them. It’s just not something I really feel like dealing with right at the moment.
We rush onto the bus, and I can’t speak for Taylor, but I’m praising every god I can think of that no one else has made their way back to the bus yet. That means we’ve got at least a few minutes entirely on our own, before we have to worry about anyone disturbing us.
I grasp Taylor’s hand tightly as we make our way through the narrow hallway of the bus and into the lounge. I barely even give him time to close and lock the door before I’ve got him pinned against it, my lips crushed against his desperately. We’ve hardly done more than kiss in weeks, and even those kisses were nothing like this. They were chaste, even sweet, and always with an edge of worry that we needed to be quick so we weren’t caught. But now we have some privacy and I’m going to take advantage of it.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper against his lips.
He smiles and I can feel it against my lips even more than I can see it. “I’ve missed you, too. So much.”
We’ve never been all that sappy and romantic when we have sex, but this time I don’t mind it, even if we can’t really slow down and savor it quite as much as I’d like. I tangle my hands in his hair and kiss him again, even harder this time. My hips roll against his, pressing our erections together and letting him know exactly what it is that I want.
He hooks his fingers into my belt loops and pushes me back toward the couch, where we fall together in a tangle of limps. It’s not graceful at all, but I don’t care. Every inch of our bodies touching is the only thing I care about right now. Taylor tries to roll our bodies over so that I’m on top of him, but that’s not what I want this time. I want him on top, in control. I want him to feel me. Somehow, I feel like this might make everything okay, might alleviate some of his guilt.
“Are you sure?” he gasps out when he realizes what I’m asking of him.
“Yes. Absolutely.” I punctuate my statement by reaching between us and stroking him through his pants.
That’s all the encouragement he needs, and soon he’s tearing at his own pants, forcing the zipper down and freeing himself from the confines of his underwear. I do the same to my own pants, leaving us both half naked and panting, drinking in the feeling of being skin to skin for the first time in months. I kick my pants off completely so that I can wrap my legs around Taylor’s and pull him even closer to me.
He still seems unsure, so I grab his hand and suck two fingers into my mouth, wetting them thoroughly. I don’t know how else to convince him of exactly what I want, but that seems to do the trick. He slips his hand between my legs, his fingers finding the place I so desperately want them to be. He’s gentle, but not slow, since we still don’t know how much time we’re going to have. I don’t mind; I wouldn’t care if he even hurt me a little bit. I can take it.
I can’t help how loud I moan as he moves his fingers in and out of me. I try to move my hips toward him, urging him deeper, and he gets the hint. He adds a third finger and, even though it hurts a little, I moan even louder. I reach out and wrap my hand around his dick, concentrating on pumping it with the same rhythm Taylor is using on me. Soon we’re both moaning, perfectly in sync.
“Zac, I don’t think… I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that,” Taylor manages to gasp out. He withdraws his fingers from me slowly, hesitantly, as though he doesn’t really want to stop.
I guide his dick toward my entrance and nudge my hips upward so that I’ve practically done all the work for him. He barely has to move an inch to finally connect our bodies together the way I wanted them. A wonderful shudder passes through my body and I sigh loudly in both relief and pleasure. “Oh, Taylor.”
He doesn’t reply, but I don’t need to hear any words to know how he feels. His whole body is shaking as he begins to thrust into me. His pace builds by the second until I can barely take it and I know my fingernails are going to leave some awful marks on his back. But I don’t care. I need him closer, so I’ll have him closer. The muscles in my legs tense painfully as they wrap tightly around his legs, pulling him ever closer to me.
It isn’t long until we’re both shuddering. I’m not even moaning out loud anymore; my mouth hangs open, but not a sound escapes aside from my heavy breaths. Taylor presses a serious of quick kisses down the side of my face and then sinks into me again with two long, hard thrusts. Before he’s even pulled out, he’s wrapped his hand around my dick to finish me off. I’m so close that it only takes a few seconds before I’m shooting my own load all over the bare patch of his stomach where his shirt has ridden up.
As much as I would love to just lay there and cuddle forever, I know that’s a luxury we don’t have time for. We both jump up quickly and hurry to replace or change our clothes and straighten our hair so that we might look a little less guilty.
Taylor slips out to the bathroom and I go to search the refrigerator for a soda. Luckily, someone has seen fit to buy a whole case of Mountain Dew and I settle into the couch with a cold can in my hand. I turn on the television, just for the illusion of normalcy, but I don’t plan on watching anything. Soon, Taylor returns from the bathroom and settles in next to me with his laptop. We look completely normal from the outside. And from the inside, I think we look just as normal. This is where I want to be. This is who I want to be. It’s perfect.