Zac
Tour time… the most wonderful time of the year.
I’ve always joked about how sweet it is to get away from home and go out on the road, but behind every joke lies a little bit of reality. Couch the truth in enough humor and people will believe that you really are just a big dork who likes having the extra time to play his video games.
Sure, the games were part of it, but touring gave me a chance to get outside of my little bubble and breathe. To be someone different. Someone a little closer to who I really wanted to be.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like myself or anything, and it wasn’t that my wife was forcing me to be someone different, although I’m sure my fans had their own theories about that. It was just a part of my world, a part of being famous. Everyone wants something different from you, and you get used to giving them that. It became easy to do, to shift from one personality to another. But the devoted, church-going husband routine…it was never the easiest one for me, no matter how much I loved Kate. I wouldn’t ever admit it to her, but getting away from all those responsibilities for a few months was a big relief.
Having my best friend, Carrick, on tour with us should have made it an even bigger relief, and in certain ways, it did. Before we even made it to the first city, the two of us had claimed the back lounge and turned it into our own personal stoner den. Things got a little crazy, but they always did when we got together. It was no big deal, really, although I was curious just how many secrets I’d apparently spilled to him the last time we’d hung out. There would be plenty of time to ask him about that later, if I ever grew the balls to do it.
It didn’t really look like I was going to get the chance, though. As soon as we arrived in Des Moines, there was so much work to do that I barely saw Carrick at all. I did manage to catch his set from the side of the stage, but that wasn’t the same as talking to him.
Once our set was finished, I grabbed a quick shower and headed out to the bus for my usual post-show routine. It’s something I don’t have to do, but I enjoy it. I would have enjoyed it even more that night if it hadn’t seemed like every single fan asked where Carrick was. I supposed they remembered our antics from the last tour together, and wanted a repeat. I didn’t have an answer for them, though. I just pasted on a smile and lied, because whatever the truth was, I didn’t think it was anything I wanted to share with the fans. It was pretty safe to say it was probably my fault, though. It always was.
After the fans finally dissipated, I made my way onto the bus and located Carrick in the back, eyes glued to the screen, playing one of my video games.
“Carrick?” I asked reluctantly.
“Hey, man,” he replied, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hey… found one of the ones that actually has a game inside, huh?” I asked, chuckling somewhat nervously.
“Yeah,” he replied with a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he smirked. “Wanna pull out one of the fakes?”
“Sure,” I replied, my relief palpable. Maybe all that awkwardness from the other night was gone. I could only hope it was, as I dug through my shelf of games for an old Grand Theft Auto I’d stuffed a twenty into. I pulled the baggie out and held it out to Carrick. “Wanna roll us one?”
He plucked the bag from my hand. “Sure.”
I sat down on the other end of the couch and watched him carefully; he’d always been better at the fine art of rolling a joint than I was, and it was almost as mesmerizing to watch his fingers then as it was to watch him on stage. He was focused intently on the task at hand, but once or twice I saw his eyes flicker toward me. There was something in them, an unanswered question, and I knew we couldn’t avoid the questions forever.
“So, uh, a couple fans out there asked about you,” I remarked, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah?” Carrick asked, tossing his hair back and looking up at me.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Wanted to know why you didn’t come hang out.”
“Didn’t wanna steal your thunder,” he replied with a casual shrug, but I knew that wasn’t the real answer. His eyes were trained on me as he licked the paper to seal the joint.
I had to look away. I had to make a joke and play it all off, because that was what I did when things got too heavy. With a chuckle, I said, “Like you could.”
Carrick just rolled his eyes, shook his head and licked the other joint. Again, I couldn’t watch. It wasn’t an inherently sexual move, but when Carrick did it…
“Seriously, though,” I said, more to distract myself with words than because I had anything to say. “Sounded like they missed you.”
His eyes landed on me again, then fell, his bangs covering them so that I couldn’t even begin to guess what he was thinking. “Maybe next time.”
“Yeah?” I asked, sounding stupidly hopeful. So what if I liked being near him as much as possible?
“Yeah,” he replied, tucking one joint behind his ear and holding the other one out to me. “First dibs?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I pulled a lighter from my pocket and fired the joint up, taking a nice, long hit. Maybe it was a little greedy, but I needed it.
I handed the joint back to Carrick and watched as he took an even longer hit. He leaned his head back against the couch as he finally exhaled, then passed it back to me and smiled. “So… tour’s officially on.”
“Yup.. let the debauchery begin.” I wondered if Carrick knew how much of a joke that really was. I could talk a good game, but what did I actually do? Not a whole hell of a lot, mostly for fear of Kate’s wrath.
“You said it, not me,” Carrick remarked.
“Think we got a head start on it the other night,” I said, taking the joint from him and taking another long drag.
Carrick snorted. “You think that was debauchery? Man, you got a lot to learn, kid.”
“Well, by my standards,” I mumbled, hating to admit the truth. At the same time, I was fairly certain that if anyone could see right through me, it was Carrick.
“Guess I’m just gonna have to show ya the ropes, then.” He heaved a sigh, as though the thought of it was just exhausting.
“Is that right?” I asked, chuckling softly. Just how much Carrick was joking… well, I wasn’t really sure.
“That is,” Carrick said, leaning in closer to me. “If you think you can handle it.”
There was a challenge in his words. Almost a threat. And truthfully, I didn’t know if I could handle it. That first night on the bus had proven that when the going got tough, I tucked tail and ran like a little bitch.
But I couldn’t tell Carrick that. I had to keep up appearances. Trying not to sound as scared as I felt, I replied, “I think I can.”
Carrick eyed me closely, as if he was trying to see the lie on my face, and I was sure that he could. I was certain that any second, he would call me out for it. But he didn’t. He just plucked the joint from my fingers and took another hit.
I watched Carrick’s hand, joint tucked between his long, thin fingers. It was nearly impossible to take my eyes off him, and watching him with that joint was giving me horrible ideas. While his eyes were still closed, I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up to my mouth. His eyes fluttered open just as my lips connected with the joint. I took a long, slow hit, savoring both the sweet burn and the fact that, judging by how wide his eyes were, I’d managed to shock Carrick.
Finally, I loosened my grip on his wrist, letting his hand fall limply to the couch. Carrick exhaled heavily, and I reluctantly breathed out as well. My bravery deserted me in that puff of smoke, leaving me unable to even meet Carrick’s eyes.
I kept my eyes on Carrick’s lips as he took another long drag. I was so caught up in it that it took me a moment to realize what he was doing when I suddenly saw the joint materialize in front of my face. Now he was definitely challenging me, daring me. And I might have been chicken shit, but I couldn’t let Carrick win this.
I mustered up all of my courage and stared straight into his eyes as I pressed my lips to the joint. His thumb brushed my jaw and I wasn’t sure if it was an intentional move or just a side effect of his hand being so close to my face. It was burning hot against my flesh, even though it was the faintest ghost of a touch. I leaned back and exhaled slowly, hoping to cover the fact that I was trembling all over.
If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought Carrick was a little bit affected by this strange game we were playing, too. He hesitated a bit before pulling the joint to his lips again. I was so drawn in by the way his cheeks hollowed out when he inhaled, and the way he ran his tongue over his lips that it took me a moment to realize he’d spoken to me.
Holding the tiny stub of a joint out to me, he said, “It’s almost kicked.”
Being careful not to burn my fingers, I took once last hit, then passed it back. It scared me shitless to do it, but I kept my eyes trained on Carrick, trying to anticipate his next move.
“Probably one more…” he commented, running his tongue along his bottom lip. I watched his cheeks hollow as he inhaled and held it in. He sat the now cashed joint down and scooted closer to me.
“So…” I said, fairly certain I knew what Carrick was planning. The smirk his lips were curling into was the last clue I needed.
It wasn’t like we’d never done this before; shotgunning was every stoner’s favorite way to try to get a little more bang for their buck. Sure, it was a little awkward when it was two dudes, but that never really bothered us. At least, it hadn’t in the past. It wasn’t like we were actually kissing, so what did it matter?
If it didn’t matter, though, why did I feel myself trembling? And why did Carrick seem to look so nervous as he placed a finger under my chin, urging me closer to him?
I did my best to push those thoughts aside as I leaned in and found his lips, hovering as close to them as I possibly could without actually touching. I felt Carrick exhale, a soft sigh falling from his lips, and I breathed in deeply.
One of us needed to move. One of us really, really needed to move. I knew that, and yet I still couldn’t seem to get my body to cooperate with me. I was shaking from head to toe, practically vibrating, and then–I felt it. My lips grazed Carrick’s, so faintly that I knew I could have brushed it off as an accident if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
I pressed my lips firmly against his, leaving no doubt as to whether or not we were still just shotgunning. That first little touch had opened the floodgates for me, and I didn’t think they could ever be closed again. I needed to kiss him, touch him, taste him. I needed more than I would ever dare admit.
Carrick moaned against my lips, planting his hands firmly on my knees. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair, not wanting to risk him getting away from me now, and ran my tongue along his bottom lip. One of his hands went to my waist and his tongue darted out to mingle with mine. I sucked it into my mouth, relishing the taste of him.
What I had apparently drunkenly told Carrick… it wasn’t entirely the truth. It was a part of the truth, but I supposed drunk Zac had decided just to test the waters with him. The truth was, I’d done this before, though not with Carrick and not since I was a teenager, not since before Kate–and okay, that one other time when we had broken up briefly. But this was so much better than I remembered, and I would have been perfectly happy to kiss Carrick forever.
But of course, it couldn’t last forever. Even as I was nearly crawling into his lap, I could feel him trembling and I knew he had to be freaked out. Hell, I was freaked out. Where had I suddenly gotten the nerve to do this, after spending so many years restraining myself?
I pulled back first and gasped out, “Carrick…”
He just stared at me, and I knew I had to be the one who try to play this off. After all, we were both pretty stoned, weren’t we?
“I have no clue what we’re doing here…” I said, chuckling a little as I rested my head against his shoulder.
After a pause, Carrick laughed, too. “Seriously, think about how we got here.”
“Huh?” I asked, not sure why he thought this was so funny.
“From a ‘who’s stronger’ pissing contest… to this? Kinda like a bad fanfic, ain’t it?”
“Please tell me you haven’t read fanfic about us.”
Carrick just stared at me, his lips curling into a smirk that wasn’t at all believable. “‘Course not.”
“You totally did, you perv,” I replied.
“Right,” Carrick replied, his eyes darkening as he stared me down. “So that wasn’t fanfic I saw in your porn folder? And I don’t remember seeing my name…”
“That was… I… what were you doing in my porn folder?!” I stuttered out. There was obviously no point in denying it; it seemed like he was one step ahead of me at all times, always just a little bit closer to discovering my deepest, darkest secrets than I would have liked.
“And you call me a perv. What was that term again?” Carrick didn’t give me a chance to answer–not that I would have dared–before adding, “Pretty kinky stuff.”
“They’ve got a name for us, too,” I said. I knew it was as good as admitting the truth about what Carrick had found on my laptop, but I needed to know how much he knew. I needed to know if he was in this as deep as I was.
“Zarrick.” He nodded. “Kinda got a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?”
“I knew you’d read it too!” I exclaimed, the words tumbling out before I could even consider the implications. But if he’d dug deep enough in my computer to find those files, surely he knew… Still, I tried to cover my tracks, but could only manage to stutter out, “I mean, umm…”
“Like I said,” Carrick replied, “you call me a perv…”
“Well, you were apparently snooping in my porn,” I pointed out, knowing it was a weak argument.
He snorted. “I don’t think that’s on quite the same level. Of course, we could ask Tay what he thinks is worse…”
My cheeks felt like they were on fire. There was no way to play this off and pretend I’d just accidentally stumbled onto that stuff. Sure, that was how it started, but like watching a car crash, you just can’t look away. And somewhere along the way, I’d started to seek out it, curious–and a little turned on–to see what new and salacious things had come from the minds of our fans.
“So,” Carrick said, his voice a little softer than before, almost shy. “You’ve thought about… this… before?”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, staring at the bus’s carpeted floor like it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen.
“I should show you my bookmarks,” Carrick replied. “I’ve got a few you’d probably like.”
My head shot up, eyes wide. Was he implying what I thought he was implying? “Really?”
Carrick just smirked and nodded.
“So, you’ve… thought about it, too?” It was an innocent, if obvious question, that didn’t even scratch the surface of all that I felt and was too afraid to ask.
“You could say that…” Carrick replied. With an almost dismissive shrug, he added, “Thought, fantasized…”
“Yeah,” I replied, breathlessly. “Fantasized is a good word for it.”
And it was, but again, it barely scratched the surface. There was so much more I wanted to say, and even more that I didn’t want to say. So many things I had done that I’d kept secret for years, and so many more things that I wanted to do… with Carrick.
The sound of the rest of the band and crew boarding the bus made both of our heads shoot up. It reminded me that we really had no privacy for the duration of this tour. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it would keep me from doing things I might regret.
“Sounds like they’re ready to hit the road,” Carrick remarked. He patted my knee, then winked and said, “Guess I’ll be doing some more of that fantasizing on my own tonight…”
“Yeah, and I’m sleeping in the bunk below you,” I shot back.
Carrick glanced at me, his lips turning up into a slow smirk. Without another word, he picked up the xBox controller and switched the game back on.
Privacy or no privacy, I had a feeling Carrick was going to get me into trouble on this tour. And I didn’t think I would mind that at all.