And with each mile
CHAPTER 35: ROOFTOP SEX
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Zaylor / Hancest
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks to: Honor @beyondthethorns
About the story: Zac & Taylor's relationship broke up when they got caught kissing by the press and their career were over in a split of a second. To continue a normal life and to take a break from his brother, Taylor starts to study at a College in London but the long distance between them can't stop their feelings for each other.
I guess the title says all...
I wrapped my arm around his lower back, sliding a little closer against him. I tipped the bottle to my lips again with the other hand. The wine was starting to taste less and less intense, thank god. It was surprising to hear him mention Dad again.
Zac stared at the sky and I heard him sigh heavily. I glanced over at him a little and nudged him. “It wasn’t even all of a sudden. Mom and Dad were just lying to us.”
“You’re going to have to talk to them soon,” he said quietly.
I’d been camped out at Zac’s apartment for five days. I was no better than Zachary- avoiding my father and using anger as an excuse. Only unlike him, I cared about him. I was avoiding because it was painful- Zac was avoiding because he didn’t give a shit.
“Maybe I’ll call Mom tomorrow,” I said softly. I didn’t know where I stood with them after storming out the day we got home. I didn’t know exactly where they stood with me- but I didn’t want to be angry for forever. I was afraid to call too because I didn’t want them telling me to go back to London. I wanted to be with Zac, but I also realized I was missing out on the final parts of my father’s life and that was scary.
Zac sighed and shook his head a little. “Poor Mom... Having to deal with watching him die everyday and not being able to escape. At least we can escape,” he said. He paused for a moment and then chuckled a little. “Poor Mom can’t even get away from it.”
I nodded a little. Maybe I’d been too hard on her. She probably didn’t know how to tell me Dad was dying- didn’t want to until she knew she had no choice but to tell us- things weren’t going to get better.
Zac smiled a little and shook his head again cynically. “Dad should be the one to jump. He might as well. Save us a lot of misery and get it over with.” He stared down at the little cars below, as if he was envisioning it. “Then we could get the fucking funeral over with and move on with our lives.”
If I had been completely sober, I would have slapped him for saying that. He was a bastard for saying that about the person that brought him into this world and raised him. But instead I felt myself tear up and begin to cry. I don’t know why, but that statement just hurt. It was so morbid and yet, kind of true.
Zachary lifted his head up and frowned at me. I heard him sigh heavily and wrap both of his arms around me, pulling me close. He kissed the top of my forehead and I began to cry a little more because that’s what happens usually when someone comforts you when you’re crying. He was silent for a few moment, just rubbed his hand against my arm and kept his face pressed against the top of my head.
After a moment he began to speak softly. “Shhhh… I know you’re sad baby, I was kidding about him killing himself,” he said quietly. He’d said he’d listen to me cry, and he did. He rarely backed down on his word. He kept rubbing his hand against me and leaned his head down to my neck, burying his face in it and kissing my skin softly. “Don’t think about it right now okay? I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
I just sat there and continued to cry, not realizing how selfish I was being- forcing my younger brother to comfort me about our father’s death- when I should be the one able to control my sorrow. I knew that the last thing he wanted to do was experience pain about it. I didn’t realize yet that Zachary saying he didn’t give a shit about my father was actually bullshit, I still believed him, so I sat there and cried and put him through what he was trying to avoid experiencing.
I cried until I forgot what I was crying about, just let the alcohol bring me down like it so often does for people. After a few moments I looked up and looked at him. Zac was still holding me close but stopped talking probably because he didn’t know what else to say. I laughed a little and wiped at my red cheeks. It wasn’t funny, I just felt silly to start crying so suddenly.
He gave me a funny look and smiled, leaning his lips down and sucking on my lips roughly, a passionate and rugged kiss. When he pulled away and cupped my cheek and said quietly, “Don’t cry. It doesn’t really add to the atmosphere.” I think he felt bad for saying Dad should just jump to his death, even if he didn’t admit it.
I nodded and wiped at my cheeks again. Now I felt ridiculous- tainting the romantic moment with him. I climbed onto my knees and crawled over him, kneeling over him with a knee on either side of him and wrapping my arms around his neck.
He gasped a little and gripped his arms around my back, holding me tight. “Jesus, Tay,” he mumbled once we’d steadied a little. We’d started to rock towards the edge a little bit.
I widened my eyes a little because I noticed what happened, but because I don’t hold my liquor well at all, it felt less real. I laughed a little nervously and moved my lips down to his lips, kissing him deeply. I could feel his body tense as we kissed and his feet grip against the side of the building. I parted my lips and devoured his lips in my own, pushing against him a little too roughly.
Suddenly we fell backwards over the ledge…. Onto the roof a few inches below the ledge. I was pinned on my back with my legs in the air and him on top of me. We both laughed a little as he lifted his head up and initiated the kiss again.
When he pulled away a few moments later, gasping for breath, he grabbed my butt and pushed his hips down at me in a way that I took as really sexual at that moment. I pressed my hips back up against his and moaned softly, bringing my lips back to his. A second later he pulled away again, chuckling quietly to himself.
“Hey….” He said quietly, still breathing heavily. “Get up… let’s go inside…. Before we roll off the side of the building or something.”
That probably couldn’t happen with the ledge, but still, maybe we should go inside instead of pushing our luck. We’d already been risky enough. The rational side of me pulled myself up off of me, and that horny 19 year old side of me that I talked about earlier pinned him against the brick wall by the door when he got up too. I pressed him against it and pressed my lips back to his. I’m not sure if it was the intensity of the moment before that made me feel so passionate, or the wine, or the romantic little scene he created, or that I was extremely sexually frustrated from the night before, but whatever the fuck it was, I was hard already.
He seemed surprised when I pressed him against the wall. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my waist against his, moving his lips to my neck and sliding his mouth down my skin, leaving a trail of warm kisses. I dropped my hands to his waist and undid his jeans, pushing them down his hips the best I could.
I tilted my head back and moaned softly, not even thinking about if anyone came up here or if anyone could see us from windows in other buildings. Usually I thought about that kind of thing, but I was so wrapped up in him. I went from crying to grasping at his clothes in a matter of five minutes- I was an emotional wreck.
He slid his hands down the back of my jeans and under my boxers, letting his fingers just sit under the fabric in a way that drove me crazy. I moved my hands down to my own waist, undoing my own jeans and pushing them down my hips too but they got stuck at my knees because I wears my jeans too tight.
He pulled his lips away and offered me a tipsy smile, shaking his head a little at me and gripping and squeezing at my ass. “Eager now are we…?”
I blushed but I didn't think about it. I just reached out and gripped at his gray boxer briefs. I grabbed the material in my hands and pushed them down to his knees too, nodding and closing my eyes again. “Kiss me again.”
He laughed a little again, quietly and manly, and kept one hand gripped on my ass and moved the other to the front of my jeans. He leaned his back against the brick so there was a little more room between us and pushed my boxers down to my knees too. “Jesus…. Half a bottle of wine goes a long way with Taylor Hanson..” he smirked.
“Or maybe it’s you….” I mumbled, because I was pretty sure at that moment, drunk or sober, I’d be that into him. Maybe.
He smirked and wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, spinning us around and roughly pinning my back against the brick. I gasped as he grabbed my arm roughly and turned me around so we were both facing the wall. We fumbled over each other a little, both of our pants around our ankles making it difficult to move. He pressed my body against the wall and wrapped his arms around my hips tightly, dropping his hand down to my cock and wrapping his hand around it.
“Condom,” I mumbled, pressing my forehead against the cold brick and taking slow breaths as he began to stroke me.
He pressed his lips against my ear and grinned, continuing to jerk me off in his hand. “Good boy,” he praised after a moment, letting go of me and squatting down. He squatted and searched through his jeans pocket, pulling his wallet out and pulling a condom out of it. Leave it to Zachary to leave condoms in his wallet- it didn’t surprise me at all. He tossed the leather wallet onto the ground next to us and quickly ripped at the packaging, tossing it into the wind and pulling the lubricated condom out.
“If we went downstairs I could be more romantic…. It could be sweeter,” he mumbled, rolling the condom down his dick.
I shook my head and closed my eyes, reaching my arm behind us and grabbing onto his hips, pulling him towards me. “It doesn’t need to be. I just want you.” I wanted to take advantage of my tipsiness and I knew the second we moved downstairs I’d sober up and feel like a scared idiot as usual. Besides, romance was nice, but hot fiery fucking was better at that moment. “Fuck me here,” I mumbled, pressing my other palm against the brick.
He spit into his hand a little and reached down, rubbing his hand along his dick and then resting his hand against the brick near my head. He grasped at my hips with the other hand and pulled me back against him. His fingers actually kind of hurt, digging into my hip, but the pain kind of intensified the moment.
I kept my forehead against the brick and let my hand around him drop, putting my second hand against the wall too. I needed to hold on, somehow I had a feeling this was going to be rough and painful and I still felt kind of inexperienced.
He pulled my hips back and pressed the tip of his cock against me, moving his hand from my hip to my ass and gripping at it, sliding the head of himself into me. He hardly paused like he did the night before- he just kept pushing his hips against me and sliding the entire length of his cock inside of me.
I gasped and bit my lip, trying no to cry out. He felt a lot deeper than he was the night before- maybe the position or maybe he was bigger. I curled my fingers into the wall and let him pull my hips back roughly as he began to thrust into me, steady and forceful.
He pressed his face down into the back of my neck, breathless and pressing his lips against the collar of my shirt. He took it between his teeth a little and seemed to get lost in the moment, beginning to fuck me even more roughly.
I gasped loudly and cried out in pain and surprise because I hadn’t ever had sex like this before. When we were younger, we didn't have that kind of rough sex, we were smaller and his dick wasn’t as big and he wasn’t as sexual. This felt completely different and I really liked it. It almost felt like he was using me for his own pleasure, not even thinking about me, and maybe it’s sick and twisted but I loved that treatment. It made it that much hotter.
He must have noticed my cry of pain, because he suddenly stopped and lifted his head up, panting. “Shit,” he said, as if he was just then realizing how aggressive he was being. “Is this too rough for you?”
I shook my head slowly and pressed my hips back against him more. “I like it,” I mumbled, hoping he’d stop worrying about go back to fucking. I wanted him to be sweeter in other parts of our relationship, but definitely not at that moment.
He nodded and rested his head back down, kissing the back of my neck where my hair stopped and wrapping his arm around my waist instead of just holding onto my neck. He began rock into me roughly again, and I just let him move my body however he wanted. I loved feeling submissive to him- it turned me on how dominating he could be with me.
After a moment he reached down and grasped my erection in his hand, beginning to work me off in his fist. He rubbed his thumb against the tip of it and then slid his hand up and down to the same pace as his fucking.
I think I kind of just faded into the moment. I don’t remember a lot of other details. I remember him saying that I was ‘so tight’ which I’d never heard anyone say to me before and it made me think of a porn movie. I remember the sound of his hips slamming against my ass and the scraping of my knees against the brick as he pushed me down harder. I remember how I cried out his name and him saying "You wanted it rough, so you're getting it rough," while my nails were scratching against the bricks. I remember him coming suddenly and unexpectedly, and the tightening of his muscles behind me as he finished off- the way I could feel his biceps flex around me.
It wasn’t sweet or romantic or loving, but it was what we needed. It reignited the flame we knew was still burning but were desperately trying to find. He collapsed against me, pressing me against the wall, resting his face in my shoulder and gasping erratically, trying to slow down his breathing and speak to me at the same time. He was breathlessly muttering something about loving me, but me, I was lost in my own world. He didn’t have to say anything to make me feel connected to him. I felt so complete and fulfilled at that moment, I could have died happy. I didn’t think I could get any happier, feel anymore turned on by him.
We stood there panting for about five minutes before he finally pulled himself off of me, tossed the condom over the ledge because he thought that was funny, and began pulling his pants up over his sticky cock, complaining that he needed a shower.
To my surprise, I did get happier, when he took me downstairs and fucked me all over again in his bed- sweet and slow, muttering how much he loved me in my ear the entire time- laughing at how corny he was and apologizing for the cheesy romance. I promised him he was a romantic after all, and realized that as much as he changed, he was still Zachary- my Zachary- only hotter than ever.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Zaylor / Hancest
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks to: Honor @beyondthethorns
About the story: Zac & Taylor's relationship broke up when they got caught kissing by the press and their career were over in a split of a second. To continue a normal life and to take a break from his brother, Taylor starts to study at a College in London but the long distance between them can't stop their feelings for each other.
I guess the title says all...
I wrapped my arm around his lower back, sliding a little closer against him. I tipped the bottle to my lips again with the other hand. The wine was starting to taste less and less intense, thank god. It was surprising to hear him mention Dad again.
Zac stared at the sky and I heard him sigh heavily. I glanced over at him a little and nudged him. “It wasn’t even all of a sudden. Mom and Dad were just lying to us.”
“You’re going to have to talk to them soon,” he said quietly.
I’d been camped out at Zac’s apartment for five days. I was no better than Zachary- avoiding my father and using anger as an excuse. Only unlike him, I cared about him. I was avoiding because it was painful- Zac was avoiding because he didn’t give a shit.
“Maybe I’ll call Mom tomorrow,” I said softly. I didn’t know where I stood with them after storming out the day we got home. I didn’t know exactly where they stood with me- but I didn’t want to be angry for forever. I was afraid to call too because I didn’t want them telling me to go back to London. I wanted to be with Zac, but I also realized I was missing out on the final parts of my father’s life and that was scary.
Zac sighed and shook his head a little. “Poor Mom... Having to deal with watching him die everyday and not being able to escape. At least we can escape,” he said. He paused for a moment and then chuckled a little. “Poor Mom can’t even get away from it.”
I nodded a little. Maybe I’d been too hard on her. She probably didn’t know how to tell me Dad was dying- didn’t want to until she knew she had no choice but to tell us- things weren’t going to get better.
Zac smiled a little and shook his head again cynically. “Dad should be the one to jump. He might as well. Save us a lot of misery and get it over with.” He stared down at the little cars below, as if he was envisioning it. “Then we could get the fucking funeral over with and move on with our lives.”
If I had been completely sober, I would have slapped him for saying that. He was a bastard for saying that about the person that brought him into this world and raised him. But instead I felt myself tear up and begin to cry. I don’t know why, but that statement just hurt. It was so morbid and yet, kind of true.
Zachary lifted his head up and frowned at me. I heard him sigh heavily and wrap both of his arms around me, pulling me close. He kissed the top of my forehead and I began to cry a little more because that’s what happens usually when someone comforts you when you’re crying. He was silent for a few moment, just rubbed his hand against my arm and kept his face pressed against the top of my head.
After a moment he began to speak softly. “Shhhh… I know you’re sad baby, I was kidding about him killing himself,” he said quietly. He’d said he’d listen to me cry, and he did. He rarely backed down on his word. He kept rubbing his hand against me and leaned his head down to my neck, burying his face in it and kissing my skin softly. “Don’t think about it right now okay? I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
I just sat there and continued to cry, not realizing how selfish I was being- forcing my younger brother to comfort me about our father’s death- when I should be the one able to control my sorrow. I knew that the last thing he wanted to do was experience pain about it. I didn’t realize yet that Zachary saying he didn’t give a shit about my father was actually bullshit, I still believed him, so I sat there and cried and put him through what he was trying to avoid experiencing.
I cried until I forgot what I was crying about, just let the alcohol bring me down like it so often does for people. After a few moments I looked up and looked at him. Zac was still holding me close but stopped talking probably because he didn’t know what else to say. I laughed a little and wiped at my red cheeks. It wasn’t funny, I just felt silly to start crying so suddenly.
He gave me a funny look and smiled, leaning his lips down and sucking on my lips roughly, a passionate and rugged kiss. When he pulled away and cupped my cheek and said quietly, “Don’t cry. It doesn’t really add to the atmosphere.” I think he felt bad for saying Dad should just jump to his death, even if he didn’t admit it.
I nodded and wiped at my cheeks again. Now I felt ridiculous- tainting the romantic moment with him. I climbed onto my knees and crawled over him, kneeling over him with a knee on either side of him and wrapping my arms around his neck.
He gasped a little and gripped his arms around my back, holding me tight. “Jesus, Tay,” he mumbled once we’d steadied a little. We’d started to rock towards the edge a little bit.
I widened my eyes a little because I noticed what happened, but because I don’t hold my liquor well at all, it felt less real. I laughed a little nervously and moved my lips down to his lips, kissing him deeply. I could feel his body tense as we kissed and his feet grip against the side of the building. I parted my lips and devoured his lips in my own, pushing against him a little too roughly.
Suddenly we fell backwards over the ledge…. Onto the roof a few inches below the ledge. I was pinned on my back with my legs in the air and him on top of me. We both laughed a little as he lifted his head up and initiated the kiss again.
When he pulled away a few moments later, gasping for breath, he grabbed my butt and pushed his hips down at me in a way that I took as really sexual at that moment. I pressed my hips back up against his and moaned softly, bringing my lips back to his. A second later he pulled away again, chuckling quietly to himself.
“Hey….” He said quietly, still breathing heavily. “Get up… let’s go inside…. Before we roll off the side of the building or something.”
That probably couldn’t happen with the ledge, but still, maybe we should go inside instead of pushing our luck. We’d already been risky enough. The rational side of me pulled myself up off of me, and that horny 19 year old side of me that I talked about earlier pinned him against the brick wall by the door when he got up too. I pressed him against it and pressed my lips back to his. I’m not sure if it was the intensity of the moment before that made me feel so passionate, or the wine, or the romantic little scene he created, or that I was extremely sexually frustrated from the night before, but whatever the fuck it was, I was hard already.
He seemed surprised when I pressed him against the wall. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my waist against his, moving his lips to my neck and sliding his mouth down my skin, leaving a trail of warm kisses. I dropped my hands to his waist and undid his jeans, pushing them down his hips the best I could.
I tilted my head back and moaned softly, not even thinking about if anyone came up here or if anyone could see us from windows in other buildings. Usually I thought about that kind of thing, but I was so wrapped up in him. I went from crying to grasping at his clothes in a matter of five minutes- I was an emotional wreck.
He slid his hands down the back of my jeans and under my boxers, letting his fingers just sit under the fabric in a way that drove me crazy. I moved my hands down to my own waist, undoing my own jeans and pushing them down my hips too but they got stuck at my knees because I wears my jeans too tight.
He pulled his lips away and offered me a tipsy smile, shaking his head a little at me and gripping and squeezing at my ass. “Eager now are we…?”
I blushed but I didn't think about it. I just reached out and gripped at his gray boxer briefs. I grabbed the material in my hands and pushed them down to his knees too, nodding and closing my eyes again. “Kiss me again.”
He laughed a little again, quietly and manly, and kept one hand gripped on my ass and moved the other to the front of my jeans. He leaned his back against the brick so there was a little more room between us and pushed my boxers down to my knees too. “Jesus…. Half a bottle of wine goes a long way with Taylor Hanson..” he smirked.
“Or maybe it’s you….” I mumbled, because I was pretty sure at that moment, drunk or sober, I’d be that into him. Maybe.
He smirked and wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, spinning us around and roughly pinning my back against the brick. I gasped as he grabbed my arm roughly and turned me around so we were both facing the wall. We fumbled over each other a little, both of our pants around our ankles making it difficult to move. He pressed my body against the wall and wrapped his arms around my hips tightly, dropping his hand down to my cock and wrapping his hand around it.
“Condom,” I mumbled, pressing my forehead against the cold brick and taking slow breaths as he began to stroke me.
He pressed his lips against my ear and grinned, continuing to jerk me off in his hand. “Good boy,” he praised after a moment, letting go of me and squatting down. He squatted and searched through his jeans pocket, pulling his wallet out and pulling a condom out of it. Leave it to Zachary to leave condoms in his wallet- it didn’t surprise me at all. He tossed the leather wallet onto the ground next to us and quickly ripped at the packaging, tossing it into the wind and pulling the lubricated condom out.
“If we went downstairs I could be more romantic…. It could be sweeter,” he mumbled, rolling the condom down his dick.
I shook my head and closed my eyes, reaching my arm behind us and grabbing onto his hips, pulling him towards me. “It doesn’t need to be. I just want you.” I wanted to take advantage of my tipsiness and I knew the second we moved downstairs I’d sober up and feel like a scared idiot as usual. Besides, romance was nice, but hot fiery fucking was better at that moment. “Fuck me here,” I mumbled, pressing my other palm against the brick.
He spit into his hand a little and reached down, rubbing his hand along his dick and then resting his hand against the brick near my head. He grasped at my hips with the other hand and pulled me back against him. His fingers actually kind of hurt, digging into my hip, but the pain kind of intensified the moment.
I kept my forehead against the brick and let my hand around him drop, putting my second hand against the wall too. I needed to hold on, somehow I had a feeling this was going to be rough and painful and I still felt kind of inexperienced.
He pulled my hips back and pressed the tip of his cock against me, moving his hand from my hip to my ass and gripping at it, sliding the head of himself into me. He hardly paused like he did the night before- he just kept pushing his hips against me and sliding the entire length of his cock inside of me.
I gasped and bit my lip, trying no to cry out. He felt a lot deeper than he was the night before- maybe the position or maybe he was bigger. I curled my fingers into the wall and let him pull my hips back roughly as he began to thrust into me, steady and forceful.
He pressed his face down into the back of my neck, breathless and pressing his lips against the collar of my shirt. He took it between his teeth a little and seemed to get lost in the moment, beginning to fuck me even more roughly.
I gasped loudly and cried out in pain and surprise because I hadn’t ever had sex like this before. When we were younger, we didn't have that kind of rough sex, we were smaller and his dick wasn’t as big and he wasn’t as sexual. This felt completely different and I really liked it. It almost felt like he was using me for his own pleasure, not even thinking about me, and maybe it’s sick and twisted but I loved that treatment. It made it that much hotter.
He must have noticed my cry of pain, because he suddenly stopped and lifted his head up, panting. “Shit,” he said, as if he was just then realizing how aggressive he was being. “Is this too rough for you?”
I shook my head slowly and pressed my hips back against him more. “I like it,” I mumbled, hoping he’d stop worrying about go back to fucking. I wanted him to be sweeter in other parts of our relationship, but definitely not at that moment.
He nodded and rested his head back down, kissing the back of my neck where my hair stopped and wrapping his arm around my waist instead of just holding onto my neck. He began rock into me roughly again, and I just let him move my body however he wanted. I loved feeling submissive to him- it turned me on how dominating he could be with me.
After a moment he reached down and grasped my erection in his hand, beginning to work me off in his fist. He rubbed his thumb against the tip of it and then slid his hand up and down to the same pace as his fucking.
I think I kind of just faded into the moment. I don’t remember a lot of other details. I remember him saying that I was ‘so tight’ which I’d never heard anyone say to me before and it made me think of a porn movie. I remember the sound of his hips slamming against my ass and the scraping of my knees against the brick as he pushed me down harder. I remember how I cried out his name and him saying "You wanted it rough, so you're getting it rough," while my nails were scratching against the bricks. I remember him coming suddenly and unexpectedly, and the tightening of his muscles behind me as he finished off- the way I could feel his biceps flex around me.
It wasn’t sweet or romantic or loving, but it was what we needed. It reignited the flame we knew was still burning but were desperately trying to find. He collapsed against me, pressing me against the wall, resting his face in my shoulder and gasping erratically, trying to slow down his breathing and speak to me at the same time. He was breathlessly muttering something about loving me, but me, I was lost in my own world. He didn’t have to say anything to make me feel connected to him. I felt so complete and fulfilled at that moment, I could have died happy. I didn’t think I could get any happier, feel anymore turned on by him.
We stood there panting for about five minutes before he finally pulled himself off of me, tossed the condom over the ledge because he thought that was funny, and began pulling his pants up over his sticky cock, complaining that he needed a shower.
To my surprise, I did get happier, when he took me downstairs and fucked me all over again in his bed- sweet and slow, muttering how much he loved me in my ear the entire time- laughing at how corny he was and apologizing for the cheesy romance. I promised him he was a romantic after all, and realized that as much as he changed, he was still Zachary- my Zachary- only hotter than ever.