Date: Thu, 8 Mar 2001 12:19:48 -0800 (PST)
From: Reid <saboteur_98155@yahoo.com>
Subject: If Only- Chapter 4 (gay male/celebrity/soulmating)
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~ S O U L M A T I N G ~
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by reid
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|| DISCLAIMER ||
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This story is meant to imply nothing about the
sexuality of the real people involved. Anything
mentioned from this point on is purely fictional and
not meant in any way but the highest regard.
The lyrics used within are not meant to imply anything
about the individual preferences, practices, or
lifestyle choices any of the musical artists mentioned.
The lyrics are not used for any personal monetary
profit...
If you have any objections to my writing, then why in
the name of Jesus are you reading this? I know some of
you might like Hanson but I don't buy the whole
"I didn't know it was a GAY STORY!" defense. So shut
up and don't send me any more hate mail you stupid,
obesessed little Christian girls.
As always.... Comments, Suggestions, and Criticisms
can be sent to saboteur_98155@yahoo.com
WARNING!!! My stories contain mature themes and
may project images or scenarios that are
inappropriate for younger or sensative readers.
I can be reached on ICQ at 70639912...
Or on AIM at Reid00005992...
Enjoy!
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|| If Only- Chapter 4 ||
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"Gimme some blankets."
"Wait..."
"What?"
I sniffed him, smelling only cologne and Speed Stick, "You don't smell
right."
Zac smiled, "Awww Reid... that's the clean. You're not used to it."
"Can you go roll in the hamper or something?"
"What the hell?! You make fun of how much I stink and then when I finally
take a nice, long shower and wash myself and smear my pits with 'spring
fresh' deodorant and spray fuckin' Adidas Moves all over my body... you want
me to go stick my ass in the dirty clothes... I don't get you, Cameron."
I smiled and tried not to laugh, "How about doin' some pushups then?"
Zac looked at me nastily as he grumbled under his breath, "Makes me stand
in the shower for an hour and smell all nice and then tells me to get all
sweaty..."
How could God get away with making someone so cute? I thought that to
myself as Zac continued to grumble as he assumed the position and did
about twenty quick pushups. Gradually, as his exertion continued, the
familiar musky scent filled the room and Zac's cheeks began to flush.
Sweat stood out on his brow as he bit his lower lip, finishing out the set
and collapsing on his side next to me.He slowly rolled over and laid
there, his face flushed and perspiring, the pulled-back hair in his
ponytail beginning to frizz out just slightly. That was the Zac I knew and
loved.
He squirmed over next to me and panted, "Better?"
I took another sniff, "Much."
He smiled good naturedly and snuggled up to me, his body feeling warm and
damp with a mixture of sweat and leftover moisture from the shower. I
kissed him on the forehead and hugged him back, feeling the soft cotton of
his t-shirt rub against my chest and stomach. The soft gusts of his
steadily calming breath was the only thing I could hear as we laid on his
bed, resting and unwinding. My lungs were still convalescing from the
fresh air they had been subjected to only a few hours before. We had
gotten back from camping at about 6pm that night and then, a few hours
later, there we were. Together in bed. As it should be.
"Three days."
"Huh?" Zac asked, shifting from ontop of me to burrowed up to my right
side.
"Three days until L.A."
"Three days until you learn to surf from the best damn teacher in the
world."
Zac made me promise to let him teach me how to surf when we got to L.A.
I had grown up in California for nearly eighteen years and never once
picked up a surfboard, which was almost a capital crime in Zac's eyes. By
the time he was done ranting, I fully appreciated the blessing of being
born on the coast instead of being trapped in the mid-west. He'd also made
sure that I was well aware of the fact that I'd never been surfing would
soon be changed drastically. Much to my surprise, I was actually looking
forward to it because when he wanted to be, Zac was a very capable
instructor.
"Do you think it'll be the same without a camera crew from MTV?" I asked,
stroking his hair gently.
"Hell yeah," He said softly, "It'll be better. We won't have to 'learn'
from some dumbass pothead."
I chuckled and shook my head, "You're bizarre."
"Are you just noticing?"
I didn't really answer. Surfing wasn't exactly the most important thing
on my mind and ever since we'd gotten back from camping, my mind had been
in sort of a mild state of disorder. Several times during our stay at the
place, we could have been seen engaging in homosexual activity but there
was no way immediately to know for sure. It created an annoying sense of
worry inside me that I couldn't shake. Like I'd told Zac, there was no way
to undo it if they saw us. There was no way to go back because once they
saw Zac with me, that was it. That was the verdict.
It made me feel kinda bad to worry about it so much because in a way, it
was doubting Zac's commitment. He'd said very clearly that he felt safe
just as long as we could get through it together. I didn't really doubt
that his family would back us up but there was enough of that little thing
that resembles doubt to make me worry. When their son was having a private
relationship that didn't reflect on the family or the band, that was fine.
What worried me was the possibility that it could change if the
relationship suddenly lost its privacy and shaped the perception of the
Hanson family.
"I got some bad news." Zac said apprehensively.
"Uh oh," I sighed, "How long do I get before your dad loads the gun?"
"No, nothing that bad. It's about our living arrangements in L.A."
I was more than a bit relieved, "So... what's the bad news? Am I going to
be staying elsewhere?"
"No... but," He paused and sounded aggravatedly resigned, "We might have to
share a room with Tay for the first couple weeks until we can find a
studio and a place to stay."
"Oh."
"You mad?"
"Nah," I said, idly pinching a section of his hair, "Just as long as he
changes his socks more than once a week."
Zac shuddered, "Ugh. Is that gonna be a requirement?"
My eyes wanted to water at the mere though of it, "No. It'll be okay."
"I asked if you and I could have our own place but mom and dad didn't
think too highly of that plan."
"As they shouldn't have." I said with a little bit of shock.
Zac shrugged, "It was worth a shot."
I smiled, "We can survive having to share a room."
"I'll get to peel sweaty undershirts off the walls and you get to do your
Jerry Seinfeld impression non-stop. Sounds like a pantload of fun, Reid."
Zac said, sounding like a bitter war veteran.
"Hey, he's your brother."
"Don't remind me."
* * * * *
"No," I said as calmly as possible, "I'd like both my hands free."
"Okay."
The plane hadn't even taken off yet and I was already falling apart.
Something about airplanes never quite sat right with me. They gave me a
very uncomfortable feeling deep down in the pit of my stomach and no
matter how safe they looked, there was always that disquieting possibility
that it would plummet to earth in a massive fireball. Any number of things
can go wrong on a plane if you think about it. If one of the bolts or
clamps in the engine isn't put on perfectly, the whole engine will explode
and send the plane down to the ground like a dead pigeon! One passenger
might go crazy via a flashback brought on by the substandard food and
break your neck with a P.O.W. karate chop... the pilot might be a crazy
bastard who's wife left him the night before and he suddenly decides that
if he has nothing left to live for, no one else does!
But that thinking wasn't helping me. My heart felt like it was going to
stop as the plane taxied down the runway and took off, and to my personal
gratitude, there weren't any problems. It wasn't as if I was going to go
into a fit and bounce off the walls, screaming obscenities and predicting
death for everyone. I was more of a silent, stoic lunatic that just sat
there, not looking particularly agitated but nearly flipping out on the
inside. It only made matters worse that my quiet agitation was really
worrying Zac. As much as I wanted him to hold my hand during the takeoff
and as much as he wanted to hold my hand, I just couldn't do it.
He knew how nervous I was and he knew that the experience was going to be
less than relaxing for me. The morning before we left for L.A., Zac had
done everything he could to take my mind off of it and almost suceded. I
had managed to survive previous planetrips with several Tylenol PM and a
quick slug from one of those mini bottles of Stolchi... but that wouldn't be
an option this time. My minor drinking habit had been squashed quickly in
the company of the Hanson clan. Lacking that security that my body could
be calmed by narcotics added to my nervousness. I didn't show too much of
it, but there really was no way that Zac wouldn't be able to tell.
"Reid?" Zac said cautiously, touching my shoulder gently.
"Are we in the air?"
"Yep. We're... alive!" He said with a flourish.
"Don't you DARE..." I said, stalling and pretending to go at him with an
eye gouge as he had a hearty guffaw, "Don't you dare mention Alive, Con
Air, Airport, Top Gun, Turbulence, or any other airplane destruction type
movie."
"What about Passenger 57?" Taylor said from across the row.
"Especially that one." I whispered.
"Hey... did you ever see the epsiode of Knight Rider where he had to save
the people from that hijacked plane?" Zac said, changing the subject
immediately after I gave him a warning look, "Sure you don't wanna sit by
the window?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Reid, just look out the window. It'll calm you down." Tay said in my
right ear.
"I'm fine on the aisle."
"Wanna listen to some music?" Zac asked.
"No. Then I couldn't hear the wings falling apart."
"Want a snack?"
"No."
"Wanna help me read The Great Gatsby?"
"My brain isn't working just now."
"Okaaay," He paused for a second, "You can take your seatbelt off."
I could only laugh. Zac seemed to get the hint and didn't say anything
for the next couple minutes as he looked out the window and I could pretty
much tell he had given up on trying to cheer me up for the time being. I
didn't blame him one bit.
The situation made me feel bad because I knew full well it wasn't his
fault. He wasn't to be expected to deal with a psychotic like me. This was
supposed to be a time of great excitement and it was pretty bad of me to
put such a burden on it. I sighed and my body relaxed in the seat as I
wiped the sweat from my brow and exhaled slowly, letting my breath hiss
out from between my teeth. For the first time, I looked around and was
relieved to see that what had been an internally traumatic experience for
me hadn't been detected by anyone else in the plane.
"I'm sorry, Zac. It's not your fault." I said, rubbing my eyes.
"Reid, I'm not mad. I just wish I could do something for you," He added
quietly, "I mean, we're kinda restricted as to what kind of stuff we can
do."
"Yeah."
Zac leaned in close enough to make me worry a bit, "When we get to L.A.,
we can shower off all that sweat."
Not even mind bending fear could counteract a sultry tone like that and
my dick began to stiffen in my lap. After nearly throttling my waist with
the seat belt, I managed to cross my leg comfortably and think about
baseball. Before I seemed to know it, my mind was off the plane and
thinking about making my erection go away. When I looked at Zac, he smiled
and winked bawdily, and it was with such a precocious intelligence that I
nearly blushed. Naturally, he sensed it and stifled a laugh which caused
me to do the same and the tension was almost gone... just like that.
A movement to my left caught my attention as Zac adjusted his bomber
jacket so that it hung over the arm rests. Before I could ask what he was
doing, I felt his hand grip mine and slowly pull it under the blanket. His
hand felt so warm and soft covering my cold, sweaty palm and what
surprised me was that he didn't seem at all bothered by it. We made eye
contact and he smiled, his hand squeezing mine and feeling comforting
beyond all possible words. Zac squeezed my hand again and smiled, making
sure I knew that he was there. It wasn't like I could forget or anything.
Gradually, my breathing slowed down and I relaxed. Zac's grip on my hand
was holding me tight but still quite gentle. I rubbed my hands together
and closed my eyes, getting a grip on myself and letting my muscles
untense. In just the space of a few minutes, all my fear was pretty much
gone. Pretty damn remarkable.
"Oh God, is that the wing burning up?!" Taylor gasped, with mock fear.
I didn't really say anything to that. Zac tossed a pretzel at his brother
and that was about all that happened. I took another deep breath and let
it out slow, feeling calm and collected. I stretched my legs out and
leaned back, closing my eyes and inhaling very slowly and doing
inner-stretching to relax. I'd stopped sweating and my armpits didn't feel
as though they could grow icecicles if the sweat got any colder. For the
first time, I looked over and out the window, seeing first the cloud cover
and then the ground distantly below. The weirdest thing was that it wasn't
scary. It was nice. I'd never really looked out the window of a plane
before.
"What do you think?" Zac asked, releasing my hand to pull the underwear
out of his crack.
"It's cool."
He smiled, "Wait 'til we're doing it twenty times a year."
I sat back, feeling a little bit of vertigo, "I hope you mean flying."
"Oh my God! Shut up." Zac said, giggling and realizing his Freudian slip.
* * * * *
"Room 33, right?" I asked, shifting the two duffel bags to my left
shoulder.
"Yeah," Zac panted, "Do you have the card?"
I didn't need to answer as he saw me pull the small black card from my
pocket and slash it through the small steel lock above the door knob.
After about three tries, it finally worked and the small green light lit
up. Sweat rolled down my forehead as I contorted my left hand around and
turned the knob enough to open the door and allow me to push it open with
my shoulder. The only light in the room was the small bedside lamp which
cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the two double beds with blue
flower patterned comforters.
The décor wasn't the first thing in my mind but I noticed it finally when
I dropped the two bags with a thud on the floor. The combined weight of
mine and Zac's clothing bags was heavier that I could have anticipated,
and when added onto the fatigue of worrying during the plane flight, it
took it's own sweet toll. But overall, I was glad to be alive and back on
solid ground. The hotel we were staying at was also pretty nice, what with
it's moderate furnishings and indoor ice dispenser. I'd found out that
accomodations like these were often used by the Hanson entourage simply
because it threw off those expecting them to stay in a fancy hotel. It
afforded them a lot of privacy, which was fine by me.
Our hotel room, while not all that big, had plenty of space and not too
much excessive crap. The two beds looked fine, a 24" TV and VCR, two
dressers, a table and chairs, and the bathroom which looked fresh and
clean. For someone who didn't like hotels much, Zac seemed pretty
comfortable with it. He only really noticed it after he'd gotten up from
collapsing on the bed and laying motionless for several seconds. I guess
the weight of all his shoes and hair care products were more than we'd
previously guesstimated. After rolling around like his back had been
broken, Zac sat up and mopped the sweat from his brow.
"What do you think?" I asked, looking out the window into the nearly
blinding California sun.
"Hey... it's quiet. That's all that counts."
"Wow... if there's anything Zac Hanson appreciates, it's luxury."
He stuck his tounge out at me, "My definition of luxury is fuckin' quiet
and privacy, dude."
I smiled and took a deep breath, pleased at the clean smell of the room,
"Where's our third?"
"Some girls probably spotted him in the lobby."
"Well, he IS the charismatic teen idol who oozes sexuality, you know?"
Zac got up and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, "While he's
down there oozing sexuality to a bunch of dumb little girls... we can ooze
some sexuality of our own."
His hands slid around to the front of my pants and he squeezed my crotch,
sending a shudder straight to my bone marrow. My dick harded almost
immediately against his fingers and he squeezed me again, burying his face
in my neck and suckling the skin. Almost on instinct, my hands reached out
and braced against the back of one of the chairs, my knees feeling weak
and threatening to go out underneath me. Zac continued to fondle me in
firm but gentle squeezes as he kissed my neck, dragging the tip of his
tounge across my sweat dampened skin.
"You smell funky." He said softly in my ear.
"You ain't much better."
There wasn't a verbal response as Zac looked at me sardonically and moved
his hands to mine and slowly led me into the bathroom. It felt like for
the first time, I was noticing how kissable his lips were. After turning
on the light and shutting the door, Zac gently rubbed his lips across mine
before kissing me. Our first kiss was just the lips but seconds later, he
kissed me again and I felt his tounge slide between my lips, giving me the
same big jolt that it did everytime he did that. We broke contact long
enough to turn on the faucet, adjusting the water and waiting for it to
warm up.
I stood back and watched as Zac pulled out his sweaty orange t-shirt,
dropping it to the floor and giving me a breathtaking glimpse of his naked
upper body. His dark nipples stood out a little, erected by the air
condition in the room which caused goosebumps to raise over his upper
body. Not even thinking about myself, I watched as Zac took off his shoes
and stripped off his ripe black socks. Like watching the unveiling of a
masterpiece, I thought to myself. My ears only caught the soft fabric
rustling as he pulled down his baggy jeans and stepped out of them, and
the sight of Zac in only his white briefs nearly made me cum in my pants.
For the first time, he seemed to notice me and frowned.
"Yo... this ain't a peepshow, dawg." Zac said, slipping his fingers under
the waistband of his briefs in a move meant to drive me crazy
"Haw haw." I snorted.
"Reid... if we're gonna have sex in the shower, you gotta get naked."
I don't think that in my life, I'd ever stripped naked quicker than I did
right there. Zac smiled with approval and removed his own last article of
clothing, leaving us both standing there naked. When he bent over to test
the temperature of the water and gave me an absolutely maddening view
inside his asscheeks, I honestly felt like I'd faint. I almost had to
resort to the time honored queenish move of biting my knuckes to keep from
sinking my teeth into his sumptuous pale globes.
Zac turned around, "Ready?"
"Mmmhmm." I said and ambled over, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
A soft whimper escaped his mouth before I kissed him, holding him upright
as I felt his knees quiver. Zac was a sucker for a tight embrace... but then
again, who isn't?
My hands went down his bare back and felt his muscles flexing before
finding his ass and squeezing it firmly. Zac smiled and groaned softly,
his eyes closed as he began to lose himself in the sensations. By the
grace of God, we managed to maneuver into the shower where the hot water
poured down. After the tension and exhaustion of the flight and carrying
of the bags, it felt incredibly good and mixed with Zac's body in my arms
and mouth sealed on mine, it felt a hundred times better.
This hotel had a very plentiful shower and in a matter of seconds, we
were both pretty well soaked. Zac's hair was stringy and dark as it fell
across his shoulders and stuck to both our foreheads. My mouth moved down
to his neck as I pinned him back against the wall and I wanted to taste
every inch of him. The bottoms of my hands pressed into his soft stomach
and I began to suck on his collarbone, trying to eat him alive. It was one
of those times that Zac realized that the natural order had defined who
was in charge and he was perfectly fine with it.
The humidity of the shower and the sudden heat had caused my lungs to
constrict and as I kissed Zac's chest with a nearly savage desire, I began
panting. I was only taking 1/3 breaths as my lips found his nipples and
sucked them, gently tugging them with my teeth and making them hard as
diamonds. The heat and humidity had the same effect on Zac and as I kissed
him, he didn't moan so much as let out short, throaty gasps and croaks of
pleasure. His heart was slamming in his chest and I could feel the waves
of pure sex resonating off his skin, invading my own system and making me
even hornier.
Even in the hot water, his pores were gushing out their natural musk and
against my chest, I could feel a short, hot spurt of precum hit me between
the pecs. For a second, I slowed down and savored how purely erotic the
situation was. This was the sort of scenario that erotic movies and
pornography were built around. In the steam, my lips curled into a smile
and I returned to my course of action, licking down into Zac's belly
button and down into his wet pubic hair. The golden brown hair was wet and
drops of water stood out in the curls. More droplets flowed down the hard
shaft of his cock and under the spray of the water, his foreskin had
retracted and his purple cockhead was sticking up at an angle, pounding
along with his heart.
With much effort, I stood up and kissed him on the lips, amused by the
confused yet glazed look in his eyes. Before he could say anything, I
turned Zac around and he grabbed one of the paper-covered bars of soap. I
watched with great delight as his fingers fumbled with the wrapper, unable
to open the stiff tan colored paper. With a frustrated whimper, he turned
to me and held the soap out with a shaking hand. The urgent look in his
eyes told me that there really shouldn't be any fooling around. The boy
wanted it bad. So did I and we'd both get what we wanted if my damn hands
could open the soap. After some groping and swearing, the slippery wrapper
came open and I could have sworn a trumpet played.
Zac smiled and turned around again, bending over just slightly as I
worked the small bar of soap up and down in his crack. The close proximity
of the area allowed the soap to create suds faster and soon, a slick of
soap and suds coated his asscrack. From the look on his face, Zac was
enjoying the feeling quite a bit and when my finger began to poke into his
squirming hole, he gasped and his body seemed to shiver. Slowly, I slid my
index finger into his tight ass and the heat of his hole sucked me in. My
soapy finger entered him to the second knuckle and I worked it back and
forth leisurely, curling it just a bit to drive him even crazier.
With a slurp, my finger slid back out and Zac held his ass under
the hot spray and in the intense steam of the room, the suds melted away
and left his crack clean and pink. Without even standind up, Zac moved
backwards and waved his wet ass at me, making it clear that this would be
our harem. Again, my own body had been forgotten and I seemed to notice my
own rock hard erection and how bad it was urging for release. Normally, I
would have been a little more considerate or careful... but Zac had driven
me to this length.
My hands slapped as they grabbed his hips and I pulled him
backwards, my lungs filled with steam as I inhaled. Zac moaned as my dick
pressed against his rosebud, and it desperately tried to open up. My
muscles tightened and I pressed my cock even firmer against his asshole,
hearing him squeal and feeling his body jerk as he tried to open himself
to me. For all the discomfort it could have been causing, Zac didn't once
tell me to stop. My hands gripped his wide hips tighter and I pulled him
back harder, forcing myself into his ass. Zac groaned deeply and leaned
back, repeating what he'd done before and sending my dick inside him in
one long, wet thrust. The sensation of his sphincter expanding so much in
such a short time was a one of a kind feeling.
The hot channel of his rectum closed in around my dick and held me
tightly as I leaned against the wall and began to slide myself in and out.
Zac did his part by pressing down with his butt muscles and using his
toned thigh muscles to support my excavating. Soon, under the piping hot
spray of the shower, we were moving together and my right hand left his
hip and reached around to gently stroke and tug at Zac's nipples. Against
my legs, I could feel him beginning to buckle as another moan escaped his
throat and he bucked his hips backwards, his ass clenching onto the base
of my dick. It was the deepest I'd ever been inside him when we came.
With a final cry, Zac let his cum flow and I could hear it hit
the floor, smacking it with it's wet thickness. My eyes shut tightly and I
hissed through my teeth as my dick swelled inside his ass, stretching Zac
even more and making him moan again. My entire body shook with pleasure as
I came deep inside him, painting his ass with stream after stream of my
scorching cum. More of Zac's cum hit the floor and I could feel it
splatter across my toes as he weakly moaned, his body going limp in my
arms. My own load finished off and I was almost immediately exhausted by I
stood my ground, staying upright and holding onto Zac, who had gone
completely loose against me.
Against my forearms, Zac's chest heaved and he breathed deeply.
Leaning my shoulder against the wall gave me support and I sighed,
exhaling deeply as my soft penis slid out of Zac's ass and it was followed
by a hot gush of cum and water. Holding Zac up was like holding a huge,
soaked stuffed animal but it was fine with me. Gradually, Zac stirred in
my arms and stood up slowly, not terribly sore but still needing to lean
against me. He turned around to face me and I took him into my arms,
resting my forehead against his as we stood under the shower, coming down
from the stratosphere.
"Urgh." He grunted softly.
I smiled and kissed him on the forehead, "Damn right."
* * * * *
"Wow..."
"Hell yeah."
"I think that was better than sex."
"Whoa," Zac said cautiously as he collapsed on the beach, "Don't
be too hasty."
"It might be a serious contender. If I'd known that surfing was
such a rush, I would have done it a whole hell of a lot sooner." I said,
stretching out in the sun.
"Told ya I'm a good teacher." Zac said, smiling self-importantly.
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, you did."
"Good." Zac nodded his head and relaxed.
I had to make a conscious effort not to look at him too much
because the sight of him clad in the skin tight wetsuit was a surefire
erection. An erection would be dangerous because my previous experience
with surfing gear taught me that erections were very noticeable and
embarassingly swollen when wrapped in spandex. Just the thought of Zac in
his wetsuit caused a stirring in my loins and I bent my legs up, easing
some of the pressure and trying to think of something else to occupy my
thoughts.
My mind went back to how good it felt. The feeling of cutting
through waves and riding them so quickly was a shot of adrenaline I'd
never known could exist. It helped that I seemed to pick up the actual
rules and technique quite quickly, giving me added confidence. But it
wasn't about technique. Just the sensation and power of it riding the
ocean and feeling the liquid mass of it carry you along and then that
feeling of firmness when you stand up. A good run at surfing was defnitely
a moment that required a kung fu pose of power at the end.
Zac noticed my smile as I looked up at the sky, "Jeez, Reid... it's
not like you ate the last pop tart or something."
I rolled onto my side, "What's the matter, Zaccy? Bitter because
you wiped out?"
"Shut up... the sight of you in that luscious outfit distracted
me..." His voice trailed off.
"Zac... check yourself." I said, indicating the swelling in his lap
and trying not to melt at the sight.
Zac grumbled and rolled onto his stomach, resting his face on his
forearms... his tanned forearms that stood out against the pulled up spandex
sleeves of the wetsuit... my mind was leaving me. Quickly. Trying to keep
from going insane, I followed suit and rolled onto my stomach, idly
drawing a line in the white sand. It was a very warm, very clear day and
the heat was blanketing without being oppressive. The sun made Zac's hair
look incredible. Sort of a dark brown with streaks of gold flowing down
from his scalp. Even when his hair was wet, it was still more beautiful
than anything I'd ever seen.
A warm, gritty sensation rubbed the bottom of my feet as Zac
rubbed his wet, sandy feet up and down the sole of my feet. Just physical
contact with him was enough to make me shiver. I looked over at him,
admiring how the sun glinted off the drops of water on his face. He had
removed the band from his hair and it hung wet and stringly over his
shoulders, several strands hanging down over his sunglasses. It almost
made my mouth water.
"Now that we've gone surfing, what are we gonna do for the next
three months?" I asked, yawning.
"Move into the temporary house. At least for today."
"What else?"
"Get caught holding hands."
"Sounds like fun."
"Annnnd... you're gonna keep us from killing each other." Zac said
as he pulled a bag of Doritos out of the beach sack.
"Y'all are gonna be writing songs and singing in a candlelit
studio," I said, not seeing his point right away, "That doesn't smack of
stress or hard times to me."
"It may not seem like it but after what happened with our last
album, there's gonna be that pressure. Like we have to prove that we can
compete and we really are better than the boybands. But it's gonna be
tough."
I thought for a moment, "So it's up to me to keep you guys from
wilting under the pressure?"
Zac smiled with a slight sorriness between bites of chip, "Pretty
much, yeah."
"So, in addition to keeping you happy, I have to entertain your
whole family?"
"Well..." He said affectionately, sliding over and cozying up to
me, "I'll most indubitably make it worth your while."
"We're in public."
Zac simply scoffed and kissed me tenderly on the lips, sending
another jolt through my body. My frame tensed for only a second before
relaxing completely and sinking into the sand. The waves crashed on the
beach in the background as we kissed gently, our wide open location not
entering our minds at all. I felt his mouth open slowly and his tounge
slid into my mouth with a very purposeful lethargy. At the first sensation
of his tounge entering me, my fingers and toes curled, digging into the
sand and gripping it helplessly. When the kissing broke, after what felt
like a wonderful eternity, I pulled back and mopped the sweat from my
brow, the wetsuit feeling more constrictive than ever.
"Yum." I said, tasting Cool Ranch suddenly.
Zac smiled and went back to eating, "So if you ever need a
pick-me-up, just ask."
"If that's how you'll pay me, then bring on the stress." I said,
catching my breath.
Trying to get some blood back in my brain, I sat up and squinted
my eyes, looking out at the expanse of blue water in the Pacific Ocean.
The beach we'd gone to wasn't crowded at all and the only other people I
could see were three girls at the other end of the beach. We had at least
some privacy. Zac had disguised himself with sunglasses and a baseball cap
until we'd arrived and no one followed us. Pretty amazing what a simple
masquerade will do.
"Wow... good thing we got you out here." I said and shook some of
the water out of my hair.
"Huh?" Zac mumbled, his mouth full.
"Maybe this land of fitness will help you work off this big
jellyroll you got." I said and patted him on the ass.
"Shut up," Zac said, limply swatting at my hand, "We all can't
have sculpted granite buttcheeks like you."
"Uh huh," I said and laid back down, "What time do we have to be
back?"
Zac looked at his watch, "They'll probably wonder where we are
by 9pm."
I nodded, "I'm still getting used to not having to consider
time."
He rolled over and sat up, "Well you know... my time is very
important. Consider yourself lucky."
"Are you developing an attitude, Mr. Hanson?"
Zac smiled, "How can I not? Look at me! I'm gorgeous!"
Well well well, I thought... Little Mr. Rockstar is developing an
ego. The smile left Zac's face as he saw me creeping forward and I grabbed
him, overpowering him before he could get away. His wet body squirmed as
he whimpered and gasped, struggling ineffectually as I held him down and
poked my fingers into his waist. We rolled around in the sand, the grains
clinging to our wet bodies, giving me traction as I grabbed Zac's waist
and wrestled him back onto the towel. He groaned as I sat down on his
stomach and held his hands above his head, holding him stationary.
After a moment of limpness, his hair covering his face, Zac
grunted and tried to buck me off again. He didn't have the leverage
necessary to do so and when he realized, his voice deteriorated into a
theatrical sobbing. I had to smile as Zac thrashed his head until the hair
moved from his face and he looked up at me, his cheeks and forehead
flushed. With an exaggerated sigh, he pursed his lips and squinted,
accepting the fact that he'd been defeated soundly.
"Well gee... now that I'm a battered housewife, my life is
complete." He said mock-tearfully.
"Hey... spousal abuse is nothing to laugh at." I said in a very
stern tone.
Zac smirked, "You best get off me."
"Uh huh."
"I'm serious!"
I didn't say anything as I slid down and kissed him on the
forehead, feeling a slight tremble rack his body beneath me. Taking my
chances, I released his hands and he didn't move, not wanting the feelings
to stop. My kisses moved from his forehead down onto his cheek and I
brushed the hot, flushed skin with my lips, tasting sweat and sea water.
The sand felt warm under my palms as I moved my hands down and cupped
Zac's cheeks, holding his face as I kissed him, his silky soft lips
touching mine again. Our bodies pressed together and through the tight
fabric, I could feel his stiffening cock against mine.
To my surprise, Zac thrust his hips and ground our collective
excitement together, shooting a flash of delightful ache through my body.
Zac moved his hands from above his head to around my shoulders and he
hugged me, keeping his grip loose enough to allow my kisses to move to his
neck. When I unzipped the front of his wetsuit, more of his chest became
exposed and I moved my nibbling kisses back to the familiar space between
his pecs. He had to stifle a moan as I licked the hot skin, tasting his
sweat and exertion along with a salty hint of ocean water hanging in the
thin fuzz on his chest.
"Let's go home." I whispered.
"Can I drive?" He gasped, still joking in the heat of passion.
* * * * *
"How did you get these?"
"They were on Venice this morning." The voice said, contained in
the glass of the phone booth.
"I don't know how much these would be worth. I mean, they didn't
exactly break records with their last album."
"Look... we've got one. They were in public and they can't sue.
You want the pictures or not?"
A moment of silence on the other end of the line, "How much are
you asking?"
He chuckled, "Well... prices are a tricky thing, you see? This is
a very humiliating situation and that's what your rags are all about.
Humiliation. I'm sure you can understand this bind I'm in. I mean...
incredibly degrading pictures and that's what your industry is based on.
So I'm going to have to be reimbursed in a very healthy way."
"Listen..." The editor said, becoming increasingly fed up.
"No, I think you'd better listen. Our situation is this, you pay
me and you get the high quality pictures. You print those and I sue you
for copyrighted material. Come on now, I'm giving you first crack. If you
don't accept, I'll go to the highest bidder and it will be known that you
passed this opportunity up."
The editor knew he was trapped, "How much?"
"Let's just say that I'm going to be moving to a much, much,
MUCH larger house." The voice said, haughty with glee.
"You got a deal."
"Ahhhh... I knew you were a smart man."
"Do you ever wonder how hot hell is?"
"Love ya right back. The pictures will be there when I get the
check."
"Fine."
* * * * *
"Good thing we used sunblock."
"Ungh."
"Glad you agree, caveboy." I said, looking back at Zac spread
eagled on the bed, totally naked.
"How can you even form words?" He wheezed, convulsively kicking
the sheet off his leg.
I smiled, "I'm a dirty old man, Zac. Sex doesn't wipe me out
like it does to a strapping young buck like you."
"Oh yeah," Zac giggled, "Suck my boymeat, old man."
He laughed for a few more seconds at his wit before quieting
down and sighing, still enjoying the afterglow of our frenzied mating. I
smiled and turned back to the mirror, rubbing more of the lotion into my
shoulders, trying to take care of the saltwater provoked dryness. In the
living room, I could hear Taylor and Isaac entertaining friends. They had
their usual eccentric music choices blaring which did it's part in
blocking out our moans of passion. We were far enough in the back of the
house that there wouldn't have been any danger... besides, they were
apparently old friends who Zac doubted would sell us out if they knew.
Surfing, I had found out, was also an excellent cardiovascular
workout. Stiffness in my neck and back was making it very, very clear how
good of a workout it was. Then, when you added in lovemaking, that only
magnified it. Intense lovemaking: even more of a workout. Fatigue seemed
to grip every muscle of my body from my toes to my neck and I leaned back
in the chair, exhaling and feeling drained by the intense temperature.
Just like some movie, the room was bathed in the orange light of the
sunset and it reflected off the mirror, looking brighter with the
occasional gusts of wind. Not a breeze... just hot, desert wind.
From the living room, the CD player switched to an artist I was
actually very familiar with. The song title I didn't know but the actual
music I immediately recognized was one written by Robert Plant. From the
very early 80's. It had a very spiritual feel to it. A very apporpriate
song. As the lyrics began to play, I recognized the song title.
"I can make you dance... I can make you sing... I can make you
dance... I can make you sing... if you want me to." The song came from the
room, "Little song that you want to sing... any little song that you want to
sing... any song will do."
"I'm in the mood." I said softly, along with the last line of
the chorus.
I stood up and walked over to the bed where Zac was still
laying. He had curled his right arm behind his head and fallen asleep, his
face glistening and damp with sweat. Carefully, I reached down and pulled
the sheet up over him to his waist and left him slightly covered. As the
song ended, I let my head fall back and I inhaled deeply, drawing in a
lungful of the hot, boggy hair. Sweat trickled down my temples and down my
neck, leaving a cool line of moisture. I sat down on the bed and pulled on
the damp pair of khaki shorts that I'd worn the day before and then a
lightweight blue t-shirt, leaving me barely covered but still enough to
make me uncomfortably hot.
My feet hit the floor and I trudged down the hallway, putting on
my best "straight" face as I walked into the living room. It didn't look
too suspicious as I was introduced as a friend of the family, believable
enough, and that I'd been staying with them for quite some time. As I
turned to go into the kitchen, Taylor smiled at me and I felt better. My
calf muscles were burning slightly and I winced as I walked to the fridge
and pulled out a Pepsi, feeling a little warmth at the consideration shown
to my beverage related tastes.
The heat returned to me and I felt lightheaded, sweat rolling
down my forehead and down the back of my neck. As I held the cold can to
my forehead and relished it's icy nature, my eyes looked out the sliding
glass door and into the baking afternoon sun. We'd been put up in a house
in the hills, mostly suburbs but not all that populated. The air
conditioner in the kitchen buzzed softly as I wiped the sweat from my
forehead and opened the Pepsi, taking a long, divine swig of the drink.
I smiled and thought of what my life had become. I'd gone from
scraping to get by to... this. It didn't seem like too fair a trade but if
God was going to give it to me, then I wasn't going to mess with it. For
once, I'd been blessed with something and it didn't seem too kosher to
screw with it. But then again, for a life long non-comformist like myself,
it was hard to believe that anything could just "work". There would always
have to be something to interfere. Nothing could ever just go smoothly.
I mopped the sweat from my face again and exhaled, looking out
into the scorched hills beyond the glass door. Something seemed tense out
in the sun. There seemed to be something on the horizon. Nothing I could
immediately see but in a lot of ways, I could sense it. Even in the heat,
it sent a chill through my body and made me feel oddly exposed. But not
afraid of what would eventually happen. I wasn't scared of knowing things...
the knowing I could handle. It was the not knowing that really bothered
me. It was the unknown that scared me greatly.
It didn't help that another feeling came to me. The feeling that
the moment I knew what it was, I'd be scared too... Very scared...
* * * * *
"I think you should do it."
"When he asks for your opnion, he'll give it to you." Zac said
gruffly.
"Zac, it's okay." I said, hugging him soothingly under the
covers.
"Seriously, Reid..." Tay said, sitting up in bed, "If not now,
when are you going to talk to your dad?"
"When I can do it through a Ouija board." I said in my best
Jerry Seinfield voice, cracking both my roomates up.
"Come on... he's your dad." Tay said, finally getting a handle on
his laughter.
"Yeah... the same dad who locked him the trunk of a car and broke
his fingers with a pair of pliers." Zac said, tensing against me.
Taylor was silent for a few seconds, conceding that Zac had a
point, "I'm not suggesting you do it for him. I'm just saying that if you
talk to him or see him again, it might help bring some closure to that
area of your life. That's all I'm saying."
I thought for a moment, "Maybe. I don't know. I'll think about
it."
Another few seconds of silence before a familiar sound filled
the room. Zac began laughing like a hyena and coughing at the same time as
Tay groaned and rolled away from our bed. I managed to hold my breath soon
enough to not have to get any of Zac's special gift, but still able to
catch just enough of it to make me scowl. After about thirty seconds, I
was forced to let my breath out and Zac began laughing again, thrilled
with himself.
"Damn it, Zac!" Tay hissed, trying to kick the culprit from his
bed.
"I had to lighten the mood!" He said, still shaking with
laughter and avoiding the kicks.
"Reid, don't tell me you go down there..." Tay said, fanning the
air.
"Oh yeah. With my tounge, fingers, and especially my male
organ." I said matter-of-factly.
"Ugh... shut up." Tay groaned.
"His male organ is the best." Zac said, needling his brother.
"You guys are hilarious."
"On some occasions, I even try and squeeze my testicles in as
well."
"Okay, shut up." Tay said, trying not to laugh.
Zac and I dissolved into a fit of laughter and enjoyed our
tormenting to it's fullest. To my pleasant surprise, the temperature had
cooled off a great deal and the air was pleasantly warm. Until the other
rooms could be cleared out, just like at the hotel, Zac and I would be
sharing a room with Taylor. It made me smile because it really was a
Hanson fan's dream. Gay or straight. Sharing a room with Taylor and Zac
Hanson. I could hardly believe it myself.
Earlier in the evening, I had gotten a call from my aunt who
lived in the area. According to her, my father whom I hadn't seen in
nearly three years had heard that I was going to be in town. He hadn't
said more than that and I didn't really want to hear anything else about
it. I knew where my father lived and I knew that if I wanted, I could see
him quite easily. But I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to have
anything else to do with him in my life. If I had found out that he'd died
a painful death of syphillis in his eye, I wouldn't have felt bad at all.
Then, when I said so, Taylor seemed surprised. He was aware of
what happened with my father and recognized that it was painful but he had
tried to talk me into seeing my dad again. I had to admit that he had some
good points and his theory about closure being beneficial was tough to
argue with. Zac had taken my side immediately, although a tad blindly, and
insisted that if I didn't want to see my dad, no one was going to make me.
He said the words with such a guerilla-like tone that we all had a good
laugh at it. But deep down, it made me feel good. It made me feel
supported.
Taylor rolled over to face us again, "Reid, you know that
whatever you decide is cool, right?"
"We got yo back." Zac slanged.
"I know. I'm starting to think it might actually be a good
thing."
"Just don't do anything that might get you arrested." Zac said
seriously.
I hugged him, "I won't. If he pisses me off, I'll just walk away
and take it out on you."
Zac was quiet, "Uhhh..."
"I'm just kidding," I said, "If he pisses me off, I'll probably
need somebody to hold me and listen to me bitch about it."
"I'm your boy." Zac said cheerfully.
"I know." I hugged him and kissed the top of his head, feeling
his warm body press against me.
"Awww..." Tay sang, "How sweeeeet."
After a few seconds of laughter, we quieted down and Zac
snuggled against me. I wrapped my arms around him and smiled, enjoying the
sensation of being close. But still, even in such a secure place, I still
felt the same fear that I'd felt earlier. Something was going to happen, I
could tell. I could tell that there was going to be some kind of thing
coming up. I didn't know how to describe it and until I knew, there was no
sense in worrying Zac. This was going to be stressful enough without me
having some whacked out fear of the unknown future.
Against my chest, Zac sighed softly and his breath slowed. I
knew he was falling asleep. It took a long time for me to fall asleep that
night. My mind tried to let go of the fear but it couldn't. Everything
suggested that I had nothing to worry about but I worried. It made me
frustrated to the point of near panic not to know what I was worried
about. All my life, I knew what I was scared of. It was always my dad, or
the kids at school, or my lack of money... but this time seemed more grave.
Most likely because whatever this was would affect another person. Another
person that I cared a great deal about.
Whatever it was would affect Zac as much as me... and knowing so
made my conscience hurt.
* * * * *
My eyes hurt. When my eyes opened and caught the first sunlight,
it hurt like a bitch. Like someone had sprayed lemon juice right into the
pupil with a hypodermic needle. The night before had been intense as I'd
taken Taylor's advice from several days before and called my father. At
first, he claimed to not know me but after working on him, he'd agreed to
meet me at a local restaurant so long as I didn't "bring my queerness"
with me. I had to control my temper and if Zac hadn't been sitting next to
me holding my hand, I probably would have lost it. After a deep breath, I
agreed.
Along with the stress of meeting my dad, the fear hadn't gone
away. It was still as intense and dark as ever, casting a maddening shadow
over what should have been a reasonably good time. The stress of recording
a new album was nearly non-existant as once Hanson got into writing,
singing and recording songs, it was fun. They were getting to do what they
loved. Seeing them so happy helped me cheer up a bit, but it was pretty
noticable.
Zac had tried to use all his sexual ability but nothing seemed
to work too well and he was getting impatient for answers. I could only
tell him that the weather was taking it's toll on me. I'd said it in such
a way that while he knew I was just putting a name on something I couldn't
identify, he accepted it and left it alone. We'd been surfing several
times as well as a trip to Disneyland, which helped, but not quite enough.
Nothing could help. It was starting to worry me. And Zac. It was starting
to affect him and I didn't even know what it was.
The day I was going to meet my father. Already, at only 8am, the
temperature was at least 80 degrees if not higher. When I woke up, I
looked over and saw Zac, his face smushed against the pillow, fast asleep.
But Tay wasn't there. For boys that never rise before noon, him not being
there, snoring like a dog, so early in the morning was odd. I shook my
head, showered quickly, and dressed, putting on the outfit I'd picked out
the night before. A nice, respectable white Argyle short sleeved shirt and
khaki pants. Kinda dweeby. I sure wasn't going to go overboard however.
After checking myself out, I walked down the hall and grabbed the
keys to my rental car. Expecting to find Tay and Ike watching TV or eating
breakfast, I saw something very different. Mr. and Mrs. Hanson were there.
Along with their manager and the guy who'd been introduced to me as their
attorney, as were Taylor and Isaac. The mood in the room was not very
pleasant as everyone looked at me, somewhat accusingly.
I swallowed, "Something wrong?"
Their manager handed me what looked like a tabloid, "Look at
that."
I did as I was told and looked down at the cover. It was a
tabloid all right. It had some generic name that I didn't bother to read
as my eyes were drawn to the headline, printed in a garish yellow font. A
cramp seized my stomach and my eyes closed slowly, realization hitting me
as I looked at the headline again. It read: UNDERAGE HANSON BROTHER'S GAY
FLING - PICTURES ON PAGE 13. Right there. In black and yellow. My hands
shook and I felt nauseous as I turned to the indicated page and looked.
It was undisuptable. Four very clear, zoom lensed pictures of Zac
and I on the beach, limbs tangled, kissing passionately. My ears filled
with a rushing noise as I looked at each photo, realizing what had
happened. There was no mistaking Zac as several of the pictures were close
enough to obviously tell who it was. Apparently the smiles on our faces
were overlooked. I swallowed again and my head felt light, a sick feeling
of relief in the back of my stomach over my face not being readily
visible.
Another feeling of irony hit me as I looked at the pictures
again. Zac looked very nice. The sun had caught his hair at a very
flattering angle and the golden locks shone against the blue of the ocean
in one picture and the yellow of the sand in another. He looked very nice.
The pictures were very flattering. My eyes closed and my head rushed as I
tried to think fo something to say. It was like being in the middle of an
earthquake where you realize everything may fall down around you but you
aren't that scared. Like being in the eye of a hurricane.
Behind me, I heard a toilet flush and feet slapping the floor
as Zac walked into the room. He was tying his hair back and humming the
beat to some heavy metal song as he did so. When he saw the assembled
crowd in the living room, he froze and looked around, not sure what to
make of the situation. My throat felt dry. It felt like sandpaper.
"What's goin' on?" Zac asked unknowingly.
My hand shook as I passed the paper to him and he looked at it,
his eyebrows raising as he realized what was on the paper. Slowly, he
looked up and bit his lower lip for a second, trying to find words. It
felt like the scene in Scanners were the one guy's head was about to
explode. I rested my hand on the side of the couch and sighed, realizing
the horrible truth. We'd been busted. Stone cold busted.
"Whoa," Zac said softly to me, "We weren't even trying."
"Zac," His father said and hesitated, "I don't know what to
say."
"You love me and I get a present?" Zac said, shrugging.
"This is serious, Zac." Their agent said, his voice taking on an
edge.
"It's me. Or is that 'bad for our target demographic'?" Zac
said, his own voice becoming edgy.
"You've killed any chances that your new album had!" He said,
becoming agitated.
Mr. Hanson stepped in, "Chris, calm down."
"No dad, it's okay!" Zac said, "If he wants to blame me for who
I am, then he can do right ahead."
Chris immediately calmed down, "I'm sorry... but it's going to
take a lot of work to repair this."
"'Repair'..." Zac scoffed under his breath, "Nothing's broken."
"Zac, why didn't you tell anyone?" Ike asked, sounding
refreshingly calm and level-headed.
"What was I supposed to tell? I didn't know they were taking
pictures. This whole thing wasn't supposed to happen for a few weeks yet!"
Zac said, not apprecating the lynch-mob mentality.
"Zac, no one's blaming you." Mrs. Hanson said gently.
"You could have fooled me!" Zac spat and his voice began to
sound unsteady.
"It's my fault." I said.
Everyone looked at me.
"Reid... it's not your fault." Taylor said.
"Yes, it is." I said tiredly.
"All right. We don't need to start blaming people." Isaac said
coolly.
"What we need to do is figure out how to fix this!" Chris said,
becoming even more agitated.
Before anything else could be said, Zac took a deep breath and
pushed me over to the door. I tried to resist but he used his leverage to
move me, stopping and opening the door. I felt him push me against the
wall and before I could move, his lips were against mine and kissing me
deeply. I whimpered and my knees felt week, my head feeling light. Zac
pulled back and held his forehead against mine, his eyes looking into my
soul.
"You go see your dad. Everything will be worked out one way or
another when you get back."
"Zac... I should be here... it's my fault..." I stuttered, feeling a
lump in my throat.
He kissed me again and spoke in short sentences, trying to
reassure me, "It's not your fault, Reid. You go and see your dad. We
talked about this. This is the tough part and I know I can get through it
if you come back to me. It will be cool just as long as we stay together,
okay? We talked about this. We'll get through it. Go and get closure,
Reid. I love you."
With a final kiss, Zac gave me a gentle push onto the porch and
shut the door. From inside, I could hear some loud debating going on. My
body felt as though it had been drained of every drop of blood. Numbness
hit me but my legs found the ability to walk as I moved over to the car
and got in, not noticing the heat on the leather of the seats. My hands
shook but I still started the ignition and drove down the street, finding
the ability to drive a car.
As I drove, my mind screamed at me from all sorts of different
directions. As my hands tightened around the steering wheel, I locked my
eyes on the road ahead of me. This was too much. My mind was reeling. I
couldn't handle all of this at once. Zac had been outed. And now, here I
was going to see my father. This was too much.
When I stopped at a red light, I looked over and saw someone
standing on the sidewalk. He was reading the tabloid. Wearing the ugliest,
most disgusting smirk I'd ever seen. After shaking his head pityingly, he
tossed the paper into the garbage can. That was all it meant to him. My
stomach felt like it was boiling as a car honked behind me and I drove
foreward, clenching my jaw and hissing my breath out through my teeth.
Sweat had started to run down my cheek and I relaxed, my vision
desperately wanting to go red. But I couldn't led that happen. Getting
tossed in jail for running down a pedestrian wouldn't be a good way to
proove myself.
The drive continued until I reached the small café that I agreed
to meet my father at. With a deep breath, I climbed out of the car and
locked the door, walking down the sidewalk in the heat and into the glass
fronted building. It only took me a second of scanning the room before I
saw him. Choking down bile isn't a pleasant think to do. I swallowed hard
and tried to repress the rising rage inside me as I walked over and sat
down at the table opposite him.
"Hello Reid." He said, with a provoking edge of criticism.
"Hey."
"Do you need money?"
"No," I said in a measured tone as I turned to the waitress who
had come over to the table, "I'll have orange juice."
When she had left, he leaned forward, "What do you want, Reid?"
"I wanted to see you." I said, my tounge feeling like it had
been doused with acid.
"Why?"
"For closure."
"Fancy language," He jeered, "But then again, you always were
too good for this family."
I was genuinely shocked, "Pardon me?"
"You know what I mean, Reid. Let's not beat around the bush. You
and your sister always thought you were too good to be the children of a
lowly farmer. She acted out constantly and you drove me so crazy I had no
choice except to resort to physical violence. Don't you sit there and act
like it was my fault."
"You're..." I struggled for a word even resembling appropriate,
"Delusional."
"Am I?" He hissed, "Listen here, you know you drove your mother
to drink. You acted out so much that you drove us crazy. How do you think
we felt? Do you think I liked trying to discipline you only to see you pay
no heed? You were a problem child, Reid. You brought it upon yourself."
"So you locked me in the trunk of a car? Stabbed me with a
corkscrew?" I brought my voice down, "You hit me with a fucking brick... how
can you say I brought that sort of thing on myself?!"
"I told you to leave your filthy faggot sex at home. Don't get
emotional."
I waited until the waitress had left, "How can you ever think I
deserved what you did to me?"
"You refused to be raised properly," He spat and pointed at me,
"Do not pass the buck onto me."
"You're insane. You're out of your mind."
"Do not talk to your father that way." He said sternly.
I stood up and shook my head, "No."
"What do you mean 'no'?"
"You're a lot of things... but you're not my father."
I didn't look back as I turned and walked out of the place. Part
of me chided myself for believing that he could have said anything
different to me. There really was no way, looking back, that he could have
found something inside himself that would clearly make him believe that he
was wrong. He is, was, and always will be a sociopath. I felt stupid. As I
climbed back in the car, I had to wait a moment until my hands stopped
shaking. But it wasn't a bad feeling. I felt relieved as my forehead
rested against the steering wheel and I started the ignition.
The fear was gone.
My head raised up and I looked off into the sun. The fear was
completely gone. The constriction that had been in my chest for the past
few days was gone. The shaking in my hands had stopped and for a fleeting
second, I felt better than I had ever felt in my life. Then I remembered.
Zac had been outed. The fear didn't return but the sinking feeling in my
stomach did. I exhaled and rubbed my eyes, wondering what the hell could
be done.
For the rest of the morning, I just drove around. I went to a
few of the places I remembered from my childhood and looked around. I went
for a long drive in Hollywood and idly kicked around the various
memorabilia shops. As I wandered, I noticed several copies of the tabloid
that published the pictures but didn't hear anything said. It felt like
the world was already moving on.
But I knew that Carson Daly and the various entertainment rags
weren't the world. A rising anger hit me as I could only anticipate what
would be said about Zac. What would they call it? How would they describe
it? How would they use it as another way to justify not respecting Hanson?
There was a whole myriad of disturbing possibilities. Hate groups, right
wing fanatics, lunatics who happened to disagree with homosexuality... hard
to believe that just one kiss could cause all that.
It was 10:39 in the morning when I looked at my watch. The
sidewalks were already filled with people... tourists and people who
couldn't get enough of the glitzy Hollywood culture. I walked among them,
looking like anyone else when in reality, I was in a sexual relationship
with a pop music star. Maybe, if I got lucky, what Zac and I joked about
would come true. I could be the gay version of Sonny Bono and exploit my
mate's talent for my own devices.
The thought made me smile as I walked down the sidewalk, trying
not to bump into anyone. This was my way of coming to grips with the
situation. I walked further down the sidewalk, just looking around. I
wasn't really seeing anything. More like I was looking and just seeing the
world. It was going to be tough but I knew that as long as I had Zac, I'd
be able to survive. As long as Zac knew he had me, it was going to be all
right. One way or another, he'd said. One way or another, we'd find a way
to get by.
We were going to be okay.
We just had to keep each other sane.
Or reasonably close to it, in Zac's case.
* * * * *
From side to side... drifting gently in the evening breeze... it felt
so peaceful. The sky above was dark and filled with stars and in the
distance, the last of the sunlight was disappearing. My hand dangled under
the edge of the hammock and brushed against the blades of grass in the
lawn, idly pulling at them and brushing through the lush greenness. I
really didn't have the energy to do much more than that.
The day had been so draining. First the buisness with the
tabloid, then the meeting with my father, then coming home and finding
everything eerily quiet. Then the dealing with the questions and calls
from the media. None of which were denied by the Hanson camp. Through the
afternoon, Zac and I had been allowed to retire to the bedroom and lay
there in silence, thinking about what had happened. We didn't talk much
but the silence was comfortable. Zac knew that I was there and he knew I
wasn't going to leave. I was going to be his rock.
Now I was resting. Just laying in the hammock, swaying back and
forth by myself. Zac had agreed to a short interview with MTV news on the
subject of the pictures and I didn't want to be there for it. All I wanted
to do was be out of the way. I wanted to be somewhere where I wasn't "the
gay boyfriend". Just somewhere I could be Reid. Just Reid. Nothing else.
And the hammock seemed like the perfect place for it. Inside the house, I
could hear parts of the interview as Zac handled himself with an
impressive self-confidence, joking with the interviewer but answering
every question. With every word I could hear, I smiled and felt a swell of
pride for Zac. He was handling it well. And not putting on a show.
Inside the house, the interviewer asked him something about "the
other man". Expecting some sort of silence, Zac answered the question
promptly and didn't beat around the bush one bit. With a very mature
stance, he respectfully told the woman from MTV that it wasn't her
buisness, really. His relationship, regardless of it's sexual preference,
had every right to it's privacy and all they needed to know was that "the
other man" made him very happy and it was someone that he loved very much.
I actually felt myself blush.
I was worried. I was worried that Zac would feel some kind of
oddness about me. Maybe this whole thing would make him question his
sexuality. Maybe he would think that this wasn't worth the trouble and
find himself a relationship with a member of M2M like the gossip had tried
insinuate. It scared me because for the first time, something had broken
through my acerbic barrier. The fear that Zac might not love me as much
was too scary to even consider. As soon as the thoughts entered my mind, I
tried to push them out and think about something else... anything else.
So I listened.
I listened to the growing night.
Off in the hills surrounding the patio, I could hear crickets.
Crickets buzzing in the dissipating heat. My mind desperately wanted to
shut down and not think about anything. Slowly, I let my hand fall to the
right and switched on the radio on the small portable stereo, hearing soft
static but not having the energy to change the station. I sighed and
pulled my hand back, lulled a bit by the static which soothed me in it's
own weird way. Using my last bit of energy for that moment, I crossed my
legs and stretched out, looking up at the sky and exhaling, feeling my
chest expand and swell with the night air.
"Hey sexy."
"Hey." I said softly.
"Whatcha doin'?" Zac asked, strolling over and standing next to
the hammock.
"Staying out of the way."
Zac puckered his lips and played with the sleeve of my t-shirt,
"Can I join you?"
I shrugged and closed my eyes, tensing as Zac lowered himself
heavily down ontop of me and caused the hammock to swing back and forth a
few times. After some struggling and squirming, Zac managed to settle
himself next to me, breathing heavily right on my neck. As much as I
wanted to be irritated by him, I smiled and kissed his forehead, relieved
that he still felt comfortable with me. Relief. Pure relief. I think he
could sense it but, thankfully, he didn't show it.
"You okay?" He asked, resting his cheek on my shoulder.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yup. It's not as tough as I thought it would be."
I closed my eyes, "Thank God."
"Everybody's calmed down a lot," Zac shifted and straightened his
legs out, "It's almost like it's easier than if I were with a girl. Like
it's so 'weird' to the world that it doesn't seem as criminal, I guess."
"Am I still welcome?"
Zac looked perplexed, "Where?"
"In your family... in your house... in your... nevermind."
"In my what?"
"Nevermind, Zac."
"No," He smiled and hugged me, "You gotta tell me."
"Well, it sounds dorky now!"
"Reid, you're a dork. I'm used to it. Tell me."
I hesitated, "Am I still welcome in your life?"
The smile left his face and Zac looked into my eyes, "Reid... don't
ever wonder about that. Any of it. "
I nodded and that was all that needed to be said. Ours wasn't a
relationship that required a lot of extra-curricular soul searching and
talking. We were able to express our feelings and not go overboard. It was
something that I liked. It made for a more comfortable relationship with
little danger of saying the wrong thing. Just being together physically
was enough. The feeling of our bodies nestled together was enough to
express our feelings.
We swung there for a while. Zac's breathing was slow and peaceful
as he laid motionless, his hand laying flat on my chest and his fingers
drumming occasionally. I reached up and covered his hand with mine and
squeezed it gently, feeling how warm it was. Somewhere in the distance, a
wolf howled and Zac shivered at the sound, still a little young to be so
mature. It was those moments that he showed flashes of his true age even
if his soul was so mature. After the howl had stopped, I hugged him
reassuringly and smiled as he hugged me back, taking security in my
presence.
"I got something for you." Zac said, his voice garbled since half
his mouth was against my chest.
"Where is it?"
"My pocket."
"No thanks."
"It's not that... jeez..."
I smiled and reached into the pocket of his black shorts and found
a small cassette tape. The light from inside the house was too far away
and too dim to tell what the tape was and I shrugged, not needing to know.
After some fumbling in the darkness, I pushed the tape into the deck and
scrabbled for the 'play' button, not finding it initally. Zac sighed and
reached over, having no trouble pushing the button and starting the tape.
Several seconds later, familiar notes played and I recognized the
song. I was surprised because Zac didn't like to listen to himself. Or his
band, at least. He only enjoyed when the situation wasn't very stressful.
And apparently this wasn't one of those times. Taylor's voice filled the
air as we listened to the song, Zac drumming his fingers along with it,
humming softly along with the music. I smiled and stretched out, feeling
relaxed by the mellow harmony.
"...You feel all alone, in a faceless crowd..." Zac sang softly.
I looked up at the sky, listening to the song and hearing it in a
whole new way.
"...When you live in a cookie cutter world, being different is a
sin..."
It was true.
"...So you don't stand out, and you don't fit in..."
The song was very profound. When I'd first listened to the album,
I really hadn't appreciated it. I hadn't understood that it really did
symbolize the way a lot of people feel. It symbolized the way I felt for a
long time. I felt like I was weirder than everyone else. And I was. And so
was Zac. We were to each other, that someone who felt the same. I knew
what it was like to feel your heart screaming in pain. Zac did too. We
were the only people in the world who could actually relate to each other
on a very high, very important level. And it felt good.
The song ended on the radio and the tape clicked off. For a few
minutes, we laid there in silence and listened to the crickets chirping.
No words were really necessary. I knew that Zac knew what I was thinking.
We were both thinking about the song. About the lyrics. Thinking about the
meaning and how important the song was. Important if only to the two of
us. It took on an entirely different meaning when the lyrics dictate
exactly how you feel. Exactly how what your emotions are made of.
I looked back up at the sky, breathing deeply and rubbing my hand
up and down Zac's taught back muscles. His red t-shirt was pulled tight
and it clung to his body, helped along by his firm grip around my waist.
We were giving each other security. It wasn't about me being his rock or
him holding me up with his maturity. It was about us both taking care of
each other. It was about love and support and mutual strength. For the
first time I realized that I wasn't in it alone.
Zac rolled over and hit rewind on the tape. I knew he was going
to listen to it again and I didn't mind at all. Hearing the song again
sounded wonderful. At that moment, I think we both knew that things really
had a chance at being okay. Zac was gay and now the world knew. The world
was going to find out that it just wasn't that big of a deal. They were
going to gawk until it got old and find someone new to sensationalize
about. Zac and I would be left alone.
The hammock swayed as Zac rolled onto his stomach and looked at
me. His brown eyes looked damp and I knew that the song had affected him
very deeply. Almost as if he was hearing it for the first time. The
opening notes began and the song played again, the familiar precussion and
Taylor's trademark vocalizing. But in my heart, Zac was singing it. He was
singing it because truly... it was him. Maybe it had always been about him.
He smiled and sniffled softly, "You know... that song applies to
the goofy little brother too."
"I know, Zac."
THE END