It isn’t like he doesn’t love Kate. Zac tells himself that all the time but it never quite seems to ring true. It’s just been so long and she isn’t there and he feels so guilty for being selfish and wanting her there when she just can’t be.
None of that changes anything, though. Every day that passes, Zac feels the tension growing. It starts as this weird anger and shortness with everyone. Pull the stick out of your ass, Taylor says. Go smoke a joint or two, Isaac suggests. It doesn’t help.
He hangs out more and more with Carrick. They met last fall and he’s a really cool guy, Zac thinks, nothing like his brothers at all. Carrick takes him to these tacky little clubs full of hipsters and they drink the weirdest microbrews and mixed drinks they can find. He watches Carrick flirt with everything in a skirt but sits at the table quietly, awkwardly, knowing he can’t be so free.
Their nights out together make him feel better at first, but then the tension returns. The nights almost always end with Carrick taking some girl and maybe once or twice a guy back to his hotel room. Zac goes back to an empty bed. He empties the mini-bar of every suite they stay in and runs up an impressive bill of pay per view pornos, dreading the day when he’ll have to explain that credit card statement to Kate.
He feels like a guitar string pulled too tightly – if someone touched him just the wrong way or maybe just the right way, he’d snap and fall to pieces. It’s like this current running through his body, this electric energy making him tingle and ache in the worst way.
“I think you just need to get laid,” Carrick says between gulps his drink.
No shit, Zac thinks, but he doesn’t say it.
One day Carrick joins them on the walk. It’s new and a break from routine and Zac likes it. He likes having someone there who isn’t his brother or a chattering fan. Mostly he doesn’t stay with Zac. He wanders all around, chatting up the prettier fans and hamming it up for them. When he grows bored of that, he wanders over to Zac and stands by him to listen to Taylor’s ramble. He presses his hand to Zac’s back and it’s just a friendly move or that’s what Zac wants to believe. But the tingle it leaves in his back isn’t friendly at all and it scares him.
He tries to forget it. He really does, but it just won’t go away and every time he looks at Carrick he wonders what it means. He can barely concentrate when they talk because he’s too busy waiting for another little touch or something in Carrick’s eyes that will tell him he’s not making it all up.
When they go out to drink again and Zac watches Carrick throwing himself against some blond, he has to ignore it. Not that he ever paid that much attention, but before it was an act of respect and a little bit embarrassment. Now something in his stomach ties itself in a knot when Carrick’s hand dips down low on the girl’s back and Zac just has to turn his head before all the rum he drank makes a second appearance.
Near closing time, Carrick comes back to their table with an odd look on his face, head tilted to the side a little. He doesn’t ask any of the questions Zac can almost see forming behind his blue eyes and Zac doesn’t ask any of the questions that have been eating away at him, either.
That night, Carrick doesn’t bring anyone back to the hotel. Zac tries not to think too much about that either.
With rum still coursing through his system Zac stumbles into his hotel bed with one shoe off and the other still on. He briefly contemplates taking off his pants but doesn’t even manage the button. It’s a good thing the room is so small, he decides, because his legs didn’t feel like they were going to go much further and he just wants very much to pass out right then and there, his cheek pressed against a pillow that smells like it might not have been washed recently.
Just when his head starts to fill with white noise and he knows sleep is coming on, Zac hears a knock at the door. He doesn’t want to answer it. But he knows he will. Fumbling his way to the door, he swings it open and tries to steady himself against the door frame.
Carrick stands in front of him, hands stuffed into his pockets and his head down so low Zac can’t see any expression at all through his dark bangs. He wants to reach out and push the hair back, partly so he can see his friend’s eyes and partly because he just wants to touch him.
“Close your mouth, Zac. You’re gonna catch flies.”
“No flies inside the hotel,” Zac replies, still struggling to prop himself against the door. He wonders if he just looks silly or if maybe there’s something sexy in the way he’s sort of leaned there. Even if there is, he’s certain that he doesn’t quite radiate sex appeal the way Carrick does.
Carrick flips his hair back in the same casual but sexy way he does everything and stares at Zac. His eyes are kind of cloudy and Zac isn’t sure if it’s just from the alcohol or something else, something deeper. He’s still trying to figure it out when he realizes that Carrick’s face is getting nearer and before he can really process what that means, their faces are crushed together, Carrick’s lips rough and salty.
The kiss doesn’t last long. Carrick presses his palms against Zac’s chest almost like he knows he should be pushing the other boy away, shouldn’t be near him or doing this at all. Zac runs his tongue along Carrick’s lips, wanting to take in as much of his taste as he can. Before he can explore further, Carrick steps back. Their eyes lock for a moment before Carrick turns away and shuffles down the hallway, not looking quite as confident as usual.
Zac can’t speak. He tries, but his lips want too badly to be back on Carrick’s and there are too many questions trying to tumble out at once. So he turns and walks back in his room, collapsing in a heap on the bed.
He wiggles out of his jeans and slips his hand into his boxers, now unable to deny the way Carrick made him feel. It’s obvious there in his hand, getting warmer and hotter by the second. With visions of Carrick’s body behind his eyelids and the memory of their lips pressed together, Zac touches himself. He falls asleep easily for once.
Two days pass and they barely speak. When they run into each other in hallways Zac ducks his head so quickly that he’s not even sure if Carrick has done the same. When their bodies collide in a narrow hallway, Zac decides it’s time to stop avoiding the issue.
Zac doesn’t give himself time to think or second guess. He grabs Carrick by his shirt and pulls him into the nearest room, which is probably someone’s dressing room and maybe not his but he isn’t thinking enough to care about that. When he’s sure the room is empty and the door locked behind them, Zac places his hands on Carrick’s shoulders and tries to call up some courage.
“Carrick, I need –”
The other boy nods. “I know. What have I been telling you?”
“No, I mean I need… I need this,” Zac says and presses his lips to Carrick’s again. This time the taste is more familiar, the tangy, smoky taste one which he knows well. It reminds him of that one awkward time they tried to shotgun a joint and Zac almost died from the embarrassment of being that close to his best friend’s mouth. Now he realizes that he wants to be there.
Carrick makes the first move to deepen the kiss, walking Zac toward the couch as he runs his tongue along the other boy’s lips, almost like asking for permission. Zac obliges and yelps a little when he hits the couch and his knees go weak. They end up a tangle of limbs fumbling for control on the couch’s scratchy surface, and most of all, trying not to let their lips part.
Carrick’s hand finds it way into Zac’s pants, somehow slipping past the button and zipper to cup Zac’s hardness through his underwear. Zac thinks he could burst right then and there. He tries to return the favor, fumbles to get his hand into the other boy’s impossibly tight pants. Carrick moans against Zac’s mouth and he knows he must be doing something right. It’s not like this is unfamiliar territory, really, but the way his skin feels, the length and breadth of it, it’s all something new that Zac hasn’t ever felt before. He’s so scared that he worries his hands are shaking too badly to do anything right, but the way Carrick starts to wiggle above him tells Zac otherwise.
Zac can’t stop himself from thrusting, rolling his hips toward Carrick, trying to feel more and more. He bites his tongue to keep from crying out at the way Carrick’s hand grips him tightly, sliding expertly up and down his length. It’s only minutes or maybe just seconds before Zac feels his vision go hazy and that familiar tingle starts deep inside. He knows what it means and he grasps Carrick’s arm to try to push him away.
“Carrick, stop. Please, you need to stop before I–”
He heeds Zac’s warning and backs off but only for a moment. His hands slide into Zac’s underwear, grasping the waistband and tugging both pants and boxers down, leaving Zac exposed to the air. Zac tries to help but only succeeds in tangling their legs together further before he is finally able to kick his pants off into the floor.
He has to even things up, has to level the playing field. He tugs on Carrick’s belt loops, his trembling hands just managing to shove the pants down Carrick’s hips. Carrick takes control, wiggling easily out of his pants and tiny underwear, tossing his shirt off in the process. Zac wants to hang onto his own shirt; it’s the only protection he has left, but he goes limp and gives in when Carrick’s hands slide up his chest, pushing the shirt’s fabric up. He gasps as Carrick’s hands rake over his nipples briefly before tangling into the hair at the base of his neck.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Carrick whispers, shivering himself as their bare flesh rubs together. His eyes are wide and he looks almost as nervous as Zac feels.
Zac hesitates and nibbles his lip. “I just don’t know what I’m doing. It’s not like I’ve done this before, you’ve gotta… show me.”
Carrick smiles and nods, then reaches into his fallen pants, retrieving something from the pocket. Zac’s eyes widen as he realizes what it is.
“You promise you want to do this?” Carrick asks again, wrapping his hand loosely around Zac’s dick, almost teasing him. “I want to make it good for you, but if it’s not what you want…”
“Just don’t fucking stop,” Zac gasps out. “I need… I need more.”
Carrick smiles and leans down to plant a kiss on Zac’s forehead. Zac isn’t sure what it’s for but it makes him feel a little more secure in this new situation. He closes his eyes to brace himself for what’s to come. He feels Carrick’s hand slip behind him and he moans at the first contact, Carrick’s finger cold and slippery and his body tensing reflexively.
“Please try to relax for me,” Carrick whispers, leaning down to brush his lips across Zac’s cheek. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
Zac tries. He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. He focuses on the feeling of their dicks rubbing together, searing hot flesh touching. Carrick moves slowly and gently and Zac begins to feel himself relaxing, feels the tension melt out of his body. His hips begin to thrust almost in spite of him, needing to get closer still. Carrick slips a second finger into him, his pace quickening, and Zac reaches out to pull him nearer, his fingernails digging into Carrick’s hips.
He cries out when Carrick pulls back, leaving him suddenly empty and alone. His hands are still on Carrick’s hips, trying to pull him back but Carrick only chuckles and shakes his head. Zac watches closely as Carrick grasps the bottle of lube again and coats his dick with it. He can see Carrick shivering, see the need written all over his face and body and it only makes the distance between them feel worse.
“Ready?” Carrick asks and Zac is too tense, too close, to do anything but nod.
He grasps Zac’s legs, wrapping them around his waist as he wiggles forward, closing the distance between their bodies. His dick presses against Zac and he can feel his body already giving way, his flesh practically begging for Carrick.
He pauses, staring down at Zac and brushing a sweat-covered strand of hair from Zac’s eyes.
Zac’s hand reaches out, fumbling for Carrick’s hip, pulling him forward so that the tip of Carrick’s dick slides just past his entrance. He groans and, through gritted teeth, says “Don’t make me beg you.”
“I’m not –”
“I want you inside me,” Zac says, his voice a low growl. The words feel strange in his mouth but he can’t deny the truth in them.
Carrick nods. Bracing himself on the arm of the couch, he eases his dick into Zac. It’s white hot heat suddenly flowing through Zac’s body and he wants to scream out. The burn that starts inside Zac is like nothing he’s ever felt. He rolls his hips, trying to match Carrick thrust for thrust, their movements as close to in sync as they can be when both boys are filled with so much lust, so much need.
He reaches between their bodies to grasp his dick and tries to match Carrick’s pace with his hand. Zac realizes he isn’t going to last very long but he can’t stop. The sensations are too much and it’s overwhelming him, threatening to push him over the edge, but he wants to feel it all.
Soon he can’t even hold his eyes open to watch Carrick moving above him, into him. Zac feels his body going numb and he’s not even sure where all his limbs are anymore. Carrick nudges his hand away, taking over the work of bringing him closer and closer to his orgasm. Zac is grateful for the help and grasps desperately at the couch, trying to keep some small grip on reality.
Carrick’s movements grow erratic and Zac can tell by the way he’s breathing and panting and moaning that he’s close, too. Zac can barely even breathe and when he wants to moan it just sort of comes out as a stream of whimpers. In his haste, Carrick’s hand falls away from Zac’s dick but he doesn’t think it matters; he’s so close that he’s going to come any second anyway, with or without someone massaging the orgasm out of him.
“I’m going to…” Zac mumbles, his breath gone again before he can finish the sentence.
With a long, low groan, Carrick begins to slow his pace. His body is pressed tight against Zac’s and he’s shaking. Zac can feel himself trembling too. Each thrust is long and deep, drawn out to the point that it makes Zac want to scream for him to stop teasing. Zac comes suddenly, surprised that he’s even lasted as long as he did. It only takes Carrick a few more thrusts before he begins to shudder and Zac feels it, feels the warmth inside him as his friend tumbles over the edge as well.
They lay entwined for a moment like maybe if they moved the whole thing will reveal itself as just a dream. Reluctantly, Carrick peels himself away from Zac, leaving him collapsed on the couch, his body numb and void of all energy.
Carrick wanders around the room for a minute, then tosses Zac a towel. Zac tries to make himself sit up and clean himself off with it. Slowly, shakily, he forces his body to cooperate. Carrick sits on the couch but not too close like he’s afraid Zac won’t want him there. Zac shoves the sticky towel aside and scoots closer to his best friend.
“Are you okay?” Carrick asks and his face is so full of worry, so frightened that it makes Zac laugh a little.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not gonna be a little… sore, but trust me, I’m more than okay,” Zac replies, reaching his hand out to brush against Carrick’s arm. The simple motion sends a fresh shiver down his spine and he wonders how he’ll ever be close to Carrick again without wanting to be closer still.
Carrick laughs softly. “So, this was what you needed, huh? I told you so.”
“Yeah,” Zac says with a sigh. “I guess it was.”
He looks up at Carrick, whose face is still fixed in fear and he plants a gentle kiss on the boy’s cheek. “This was definitely what I needed.”
“Good,” Carrick says and his entire body seems to sigh and relax. He turns his head so that their lips meet and gives Zac a small, chaste kiss.
Zac pulls back and nibbles his bottom lip, his eyes fixed on Carrick’s. “If I get like that again… will you be there?”
“Of course,” Carrick replies, grabbing his shirt from the arm of the couch. “Of course I will. For you.”
Zac sighs and leans back on the couch, watching Carrick put his clothes back and hide all the evidence of what they had done. Now that it had happened, he would need it again. He was certain of that. That tingle in his spine won’t go away now, not when he can finally pinpoint the cause of it.