Zac
What should have been a great night wasn’t going at all how I had planned. I wanted to act like I had no idea how things had gone wrong, but that would have been a lie. It was all down to the tug of war game I was caught in—a game I had started myself. I was torn between Carrick and Kate, and I knew it was all my fault. I also knew that it wasn’t fair to either of them. That particular night, it was especially unfair to Carrick, and I knew that, too.
So it should have come as no surprise to me that as soon as we arrived at the party, we were all too easily separated. Carrick, I was sure, didn’t mind that at all. I wasn’t normally much of a drinker, but I decided that right then, my sorrows really needed to be drowned.
By the time I found a comfortable free chair in the corner, the perfect place in which to sulk, I couldn’t even remember how many drinks I’d had. All I knew was that each one was stronger than the last, and I still couldn’t get my mind off Carrick and how badly I was fucking up everything with him.
“Hey, everything okay?” A voice asked, followed by a long, tall shadow descending over me. I glanced up, and soon Taylor came into focus. Staring down at me, he remarked, “You look kinda down.”
“I’m fine.” I punctuated the statement with a big gulp of my drink, the burn of the vodka in it barely registering at all.
“Right,” Taylor said, sinking into the chair next to me and taking a sip of his own drink. “So where’s Carrick? I thought you two were joined at the hip lately.”
“He… we…” I stuttered out, before realizing that there really wasn’t that much of an accusation to his words. “I mean, I don’t know, it’s not like I’m his babysitter or anything.”
Taylor chuckled. “Relax, I was just kidding. I’m glad he was able to join us, though.”
“S’made the tour… interesting…” I remarked, my words coming out in a slurred mumble that left no doubt about my level of intoxication.
“I’m sorry about the other day,” Taylor replied, staring down into his drink. “I know I shouldn’t make jokes like that about you and him. Honestly, I’m glad you have someone, a friend, to hang out with.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, s’not the first time someone has said something like that about us.”
“You don’t exactly help things, you know,” Taylor said, raising his head and cocking an eyebrow at me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, really.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “But you know how the fans are. They take any ammo they can get, and with as close as you guys are… pretty sure they’re not short on material lately. For, you know… creative uses.”
I couldn’t help snorting again. “Trust me, I’ve seen the things they write about us.”
Taylor coughed on his drink, his eyes widening a bit. What surprised him so much about that? He had been the one to mention it, after all, and while I didn’t think my brothers indulged in fanfic the way I did, I was sure they were aware of its existence.
“What, you haven’t?” I asked. “As much time as you spend glued to your laptop, surely you’ve stumbled across a few of those stories too. Wild imaginations, our fans.”
Taylor’s face turned bright red and he sputtered. “Umm… I haven’t… I mean, that’s…”
“Some sick stuff, huh?” I remarked, but I couldn’t keep a painfully large grin from spreading across my face as I said it.
“I wouldn’t really know… I haven’t, I mean I know it’s out there, but it’s not like I look for it or anything, you know?” The way Taylor squirmed in his seat, I had to wonder what sort of sick fanfic he had accidentally stumbled upon.
“Who said anything about looking for it? I’m just saying, it’s out there. So no, I’m not surprised at the stuff anybody says about me and Carrick.”
Taylor downed the rest of his drink, then stared at the floor, seemingly lost in thought. “So… have you… I mean, like, read any of it?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten that bored.” I shrugged, hoping to look casual and dismissive. Was this conversation actually happening or was this an alcohol-induced hallucination?
Taylor shrugged. If I thought I sounded guilty, it was nothing compared to the way Taylor looked. But for someone with as high of a sex drive as everyone knew he had, he was always so uptight about it.
“Sorry, I forgot; you ‘try not to.’” I snorted. The fans weren’t the only ones who remembered that odd lie from Taylor during our most invasive interview ever.
He rolled his eyes. “Maybe, once or twice. Just out of curiosity, you know?”
“Right, of course. Out of curiosity.” I eyed him closely, but his face had gone almost completely neutral. He licked his lips, leaning back and seeming to get lost in thought again, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what those thoughts might have been.
A part of me was worried that I had shown Taylor too many of my cards, but there was no way he could possibly guess my dirty secret. Was there? No one would ever actually suspect me of being the world’s most voracious reader of Zaylor fanfic. That would just be ridiculous, and the fact that it was true didn’t make it any less absurd.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Taylor nodded his head toward something across the room. “Looks like someone’s trying to move in on your territory…”
I followed his glance, and what I found made my blood feel like it was boiling. My vision blurred, but the picture in front of me didn’t change. Carrick was leaning casually against the bar, laughing at something some little twink had just said to him. The guy looked like a total douchebag, so skinny a stiff breeze would knock him over and sporting hair so blonde and so curly it couldn’t possibly have been natural. The fact that Carrick was not only flirting with someone else, but with someone who looked like that, was enough to make me squeeze my drink so hard that what little was left of it spilled out onto my hand.
“Oh. So they are.” I slammed my cup down on the end table, not even caring about the vodka and Coke dripping down my hand. I glanced at Taylor, who was staring back at me with eyebrows raised. “If you’ll excuse me. Nice talking fanfic with you.”
I stood up and strode to the bar, grabbing another Pabst to match the one in Carrick’s hand. He didn’t even seem to notice I was near, so caught up in laughing and smiling way too damn cheerfully at whatever the douchebag had just said.
“Looks like someone needs a refill,” I said, plastering a ridiculously fake smile on my face as I held the beer out to Carrick.
“Umm… thanks.” His smile fell as he finally acknowledged my existence. He gave the guy a quick look, one that seemed to convey something I wasn’t privy to, and said, “Bryce, this is Zac.”
“Nice party, hmm? Don’t you think so, Bryce?” What the fuck kind of name was Bryce, anyway?
Carrick raised an eyebrow at me, then turned back to his new friend. “Umm… so, anyway. You were saying, about the drunk roadie?”
Bryce gave a nervous laugh in my general direction, then turned back to Carrick. “Yeah, so, he comes back with the cake, and—”
He hadn’t even finished a sentence, and I’d already had just about enough of him. “You gotta be careful with those roadies. So many pathetic hangers on, you know? People just trying to get close to the band…”
“I know, right?” Carrick said, his eyes narrowing. “So rude when they just butt into other people’s conversations.”
“Alright, alright,” I said, throwing my hands up in defeat and taking a few steps backward. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
Carrick rolled his eyes, but quickly adopted an apologetic look when he turned back to Bryce. “Hey, I’m sorry. But it was real nice talking to you.”
He gave Bryce an obvious once-over then, and I thought I might actually be sick. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was that I really just couldn’t stand to see Carrick flirting with anyone else. Whatever it was, I could do little more than shoot the two of them a sneer before storming off. I still wasn’t quite fast enough to miss their laughter at some little joke, probably at my expense.
I quickened my steps, and I made it all the way outside before I felt Carrick’s hand on my arm, nearly holding me in place with the strength I always forgot he had.
“The fuck was that all about?”
“And I couldn’t ask you the same thing?” I asked, spinning around to glare at him. “Really? I mean, I was right there, Carrick, watching this guy drool all over you and you not doing a thing to stop him.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Zac. Are you really doing this? What was I supposed to say?”
“Well, whatever you were saying was clearly giving him the wrong idea. Or maybe not. Maybe I really did interrupt something I shouldn’t have.”
“You’re one to talk about interruptions,” he replied, his eyes narrowing.
“Is that what this is all about? Giving me a dose of my own medicine?” I asked. “Look, I’m sorry, but I had to take her call, and if you don’t see the difference between that and you flirting with some wannabe groupie… he wasn’t even cute!”
“I wasn’t—” Carrick cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths. I had seen him do that move before when he was trying to calm himself down, usually because of something stupid I had said. I didn’t think I had said anything stupid this time, though. “Okay. I’m sorry. But can you blame me for appreciating a little attention?”
I stepped in closer to him. “You want attention? I can give you attention.”
Carrick glanced around, but we were all alone on the street. “You do realize your little fit isn’t helping the whole ‘pretending we’re not boyfriends’ thing, right?”
“I guess I didn’t realize that flirting with other guys was necessary to keep up that act.” Lowering my voice a bit, I added, “I mean, shit, even Taylor noticed and commented.”
“He… what?”
“He was joking, sure, but he saw you and that douchebag. Bryce. And what the fuck kind of name is Bryce?”
Carrick rolled his eyes again, and I idly wondered if it was possible for them to roll right out of his head. If they did, it would clearly be my fault. “You really are an asshole sometimes, you know that, right?”
With that, he turned and walked toward the bus, which had been parked as inconspicuously as possible in a nearby alley.
And sure, I was an asshole. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. But I still had feelings. Even if I hadn’t been entirely honest about my marriage, I couldn’t honestly say that I loved Kate like I once had. I had obligations to her; Carrick had to see that. I couldn’t avoid that, but he certainly could have avoided flirting with someone else… if he had wanted to, that was.
I followed behind him as quickly as my much shorter legs would carry me. “What the hell does me being an asshole have to do with you flirting so blatantly that even Taylor, the most oblivious person in the world, pointed out that someone was trying to creep up on you?”
Carrick didn’t speak again until we were both safely inside the bus. “Creeping implies I didn’t want him there. You think I’m stupid or something, that I don’t notice when someone’s flirting? Yeah, I might have let it go a little far, but you’re acting like he was gonna roofie my drink or something.”
“So you wanted him there. At least you admit it, I guess.” And there it was. If I meant so little to him that he saw no problem with flirting with some other guy, if he actually wanted to, then what was the point? I was risking everything, and I had never stopped to realize that Carrick didn’t even want this as much as I did.
He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and scowled at me. Finally, he said, “Damnit, Zac. I hate it when you pull this shit.”
“What kind of shit am I pulling, exactly?” I asked. “’Cause I’m really not seeing how you don’t get why I don’t appreciate seeing you throwing yourself all over some other guy. And now you admit wanted it. You wanted him. Well, go get him, then. I’m not stopping you.”
I stepped back and motioned toward the door, practically daring him to leave. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he did, but it was better to know now than drag this on any further.
Carrick glared at me for a moment, and that made me wonder even more what he was going to do and what he was waiting for. After a moment’s pause, he shoved me back against the door, nearly knocking the breath out of me. His lips collided forcefully with mine, and I let out a pathetic yelp as I struggled to keep up with him.
He pulled back, breathing harder but his eyes still clouded with anger. “Does it feel like I want him?”
“I dunno,” I replied, snaking my hand in between our bodies to feel the erection I was sure was there. Sure enough, I found it easily, even through his jeans, and gave it a squeeze. “I mean, how should I know if this is for him or me?”
His only response was a growl. One large hand landed on my shoulder, and he practically drug me into the back of the bus. I landed on the couch with a dull thud, which was followed by the sound of the lounge door being slammed shut and locked.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help smirking. So he did want me, at least physically. Right then, that was enough for me. The fact that he was here, with me, shoving me back against the couch and slipping his tongue into my mouth, was all that mattered. And when his hand found its way to my own erection, I could barely even remember why I had been angry in the first place.
“Still worried about being replaced?” Carrick asked, not waiting for my answer before sinking his teeth into my neck. I didn’t even care at all if he left marks for everyone to see.
I let out a pathetic sound that was closer to a whimper than a moan. “I think… I think I’m starting to get the picture…”
“You know, you’re not in much of a position to get all possessive on me, anyway. Even if it is adorable.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll talk when you catch me drooling all over some Justin Timberlake lookalike.” The words came out in a growl and I didn’t even try to fight it. Why bother hiding the truth? Yes, I was possessive. Jealous, even. What was so wrong about that?
“You really are jealous,” Carrick said, practically reading my mind. He sank his teeth into my neck again, then licked the wound. “I’d be touched if you weren’t being such a dick about it.”
I arched my back and bared my neck to him, hoping to let him know that I wanted, maybe even needed, him to mark his territory. “Being a dick is just part of my charm. Thought you knew that already?”
“Being… taking…” Carrick shrugged, giving me an evil smirk.
“Except somebody won’t give me any.” I punctuated the statement by rolling my hips against his as hard as I could, our dicks rubbing together painfully even with layers of clothing still between us.
“Maybe you just haven’t earned it yet.” Carrick mirrored my movements, but slowly, teasingly. “I don’t give this out for free, you know?”
And because, as we had already established, I was a jealous asshole, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Could have fooled me.”
Carrick stopped, his eyes flashing with anger and his body going completely rigid. After a beat, he stepped back from the couch and peeled off his shirt. “You want it that bad? Prove it. Strip.”
I stared at him in disbelief, trying to discern whether or not he was just playing around. Ultimately, I decided that it didn’t matter. Whether it was a game or not, it turned me on, and I wasted no time yanking off every stitch of clothing I had on.
“Show me how bad you want it, Zac.” Carrick popped the button on his jeans, shoving them down his hips a few inches as he came to stand right in front of me.
I didn’t have to guess what he wanted. I pulled his dick out of its confines and stared up at him as I ran my tongue from tip to base. My first attempt at going down on him had been cut short, so I couldn’t guarantee this would be any good for him, but I was going to try.
“That the best you got?” He asked, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “Must not really want it that bad…”
Trying not to wince, or moan, at the pain of his hand tugging on my hair, I relaxed my jaw and took his dick into my mouth. I barely had time to adjust to that new feeling before Carrick yanked on my hair again, using his grip on it to set a pace for me. I dug my fingernails into my own thighs just to try to regain some sort of control, but I didn’t even try to stop myself from moaning as I bobbed up and down on his dick.
All too soon, Carrick pulled me away and nodded toward the couch. A smirk on his lips, he said, “Better get comfy.”
I leaned back against the cushions, trying to look casual even though I was trembling all over. Carrick had me at a disadvantage here, being both more experienced and so good at making me do whatever he wanted me to do. I wonder if he knew how willingly I was letting myself be bossed around.
Carrick knelt between my legs and stared up at me, his eyes still clouded over with… something… as he dragged his tongue ever so slowly up my length. Even that faint of a touch made my hips buck upward. It was pathetic how much I wanted him, but I was far past the point of trying to hide it.
“Carrick…” I moaned out as he swirled his tongue around the head of my dick, then finally took the entire length into his mouth. His hands fell to my thighs and I cautiously let one of my own hands rest in his hair.
That was apparently not appreciated, as he quickly let my dick fall from his mouth and raised himself up to whisper in my ear. “You sure you want it?”
I didn’t have to ask what it was. He let his hand brush across my dick, slick with spit and pre-come, and then it found its way between my legs. One long, thin finger pressed against a part of me that no other man had ever touched.
“You know I do, Care.” Maybe it was just a little bit manipulative to use my pet name for him, but I knew how nervous I must have looked. I needed him to know that didn’t matter; nervous or not, I was so, so ready to cross this line and never look back.
The clouds in his eyes parted for just a moment, but just as quickly, I felt his finger press all the way into me.
“Fuck!”
Rather than respond with words, Carrick gave a quick twist of his finger. He pulled it all the way out, then pushed it back in. With no lube to speak of aside from my own pre-come, it shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. I had fingered myself before, at first just out of curiosity, but later because it became yet another one of my twisted desires. This was nothing like what I had done to myself, and I loved it.
Carrick’s other hand ran up my stomach, then my chest, coming to rest on my shoulder and holding me in place. He had to know that I was completely at his mercy, and loving it, but I didn’t mind the extra force at all. In fact, I enjoyed that, too.
“Yes… j-just like that…” I panted out as he found a nice rhythm, thrusting his finger almost ruthlessly in and out of me.
He shifted his position ever so slightly, so that our dicks lined up against each other. I thought I would scream from how good it felt, and then I felt him easing a second finger into me. All I could do then was whimper, my hips bucking up as though they had a mind of their own.
“Oh, I know,” Carrick said, his tone completely patronizing and yet somehow still so, so sexy. “Must be so hard, having what you want right there… so close…”
To further prove his point, he ground his dick against me, creating an incredible friction. He twisted his fingers inside me, and it took me a moment to even realize the pathetic whine I had heard came from my own mouth.
“Fuck…. Just–god, please, Carrick.” I didn’t even know what I was begging for by that point. All I knew was that I needed it, needed something, needed Carrick more than I had ever needed anything in my life.
He pressed a third finger into me and it was almost more than I could handle, the pain nearly overpowering the pleasure. His voice deep and raspy, he asked, “Must be real torture, huh?”
“Just… just hoping you’ll fuck me this good,” I managed to reply, although the fact that I was trembling all over sort of negated the cocky tone of my voice.
“Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?” Carrick whispered in my ear. Suddenly he pulled his fingers out and pressed his dick against me. It was so close, yet so far, and I knew that just the slightly move of my hips would change everything. But I didn’t dare move.
“Carrick… please, Care…” I pleaded, but I knew it was pointless. He might be tap-dancing on the line he had drawn between us, but he wouldn’t take that last, tiny little step over it.
Instead, he slid two fingers back into me, meeting far less resistance than before, and wrapped his other hand around my painful, throbbing dick. As he stroked it, he commanded, “Come for me, Zac.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” I replied, practically convulsing underneath him. “God, I’m… I’m so fucking close…”
Carrick leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, and that was all it took. My back arched upward, pressing our bodies almost as close together as possible, and my vision went black for a moment. When I came back down to earth, Carrick had pulled away just enough to grab a discarded t-shirt and wipe off his hand.
He stared at me, the clouds in his eyes now fully parted. “I told him I had a boyfriend. I never wanted him. Only you.”
“You… you could have just told me that, you know,” I replied, still breathing so heavily I could barely speak. “I’m sorry, Care, I just… I know I have no right, but god, I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else.”
“Why?” He asked, his eyes searching mine for what he should have already known was there.
“God, why do you think, Carrick? What do you think this is for me, just fun?”
“No, just… nevermind. Forget I asked.” He glanced away.
“No, Carrick,” I replied, sitting up and scooting away from him. “I wanna know, is that what you really think of me? You think I’m just fucking around here, just playing around, like I haven’t been in love with you forever?”
“No, of course I—” He paused, his frown giving way to wide-eyed staring. “You… what?”
“I… I thought it was kinda obvious?” In truth, I hadn’t really meant to say it, not like that. But maybe at least a little bit of the truth would be good for us.
“You… I didn’t think…” He shut his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.
“I think you’re the last person in the world to notice, Care.”
“I guess I am.” He chuckled. “So you really…?”
“Yes, really,” I replied, just a bit mockingly. “You think I would lie about that? It’s been so fucking long, and I am so fucking sick of hiding it, pretending I don’t feel this way. I know I can’t tell everyone, but I… I can at least be honest with you about it.”
Carrick pressed a hand to my cheek and gave me a soft kiss. I couldn’t resist returning it, but only briefly.
I pulled away and rested my head on his shoulder. “God… it’s actually such a fucking relief to admit it.”
“Admit what?” Carrick smirked.
“That I love you, jackass,” I replied, staring him down.
He chuckled, then sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, too. Even if you are kind of an asshole sometimes.”
I let out a sigh of my own. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear him say it, too. “I told you, it’s part of my charm.”
Carrick gave another soft sigh, then reached into the floor and tossed my boxers to me. He found his own and pulled them on, then pulled me down onto the couch with him. “No more bullshit jealous hissy fits?”
“I’ll… I’ll try,” I sighed out. “I really will. I just—god, after so long, I was so close and then I thought…”
“After how long, exactly?” Carrick asked, eying me. “Just out of curiosity.”
“How long have we known each other?”
He raised an eyebrow. “About… six years?”
“So, about six years.”
Carrick stared at me for a moment, then laughed loudly and shook his head. “That explains so… so much.”
“I mean, I’m not saying it was love at first sight or anything… although I was very impressed with that, uh, table dance you did at South by Southwest that year.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…” To my surprise, Carrick was actually blushing a little.
“Who’s laughing?” I asked, not even trying to fight my smirk or the chuckle that followed. “It was pretty hot.”
“Look who’s talking,” Carrick replied, his eyes trailing up and down my body and one finger tracing a path down my chest.
I snorted. “Yeah, sitting here practically naked, covered in dried come. So hot.”
“You are to me,” he said. “Always have been.”
I felt my face heating up, and I hoped the blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Yeah, well… you’re not so bad yourself.”
“You weren’t complaining a little while ago,” Carrick replied, lazily rocking his hips against mine. “You were practically begging for it.”
I groaned, my head falling back against the arm of the couch. “God, Carrick… give a guy time to recover…”
“Just imagine what it’ll be like when you get the real thing,” he whispered in my ear, punctuating the sentence with a nip at my earlobe.
“Trust me, I do,” I nearly whimpered. Pulling myself up a bit, I added, “Probably gonna go imagine it in the shower now, in fact.”
“Want some company?”
“Your company?” I asked, offering him a hand. “Always.”