Title: INK
Chapter 9: Party Time, Excellent
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash / Hanson / Hancest / Zaylor / Drama
Warnings: Language, Drug use, Slash, Sex
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks: to heart_iswild
http://heart-iswild.livejournal.com
Notes: Hanson ain't famous in this Story, but Taylor is in a band called Aphrodite. Don't wonder about Taylor's tattoo ;-)
Sorry for the delay guys here is Chapter 9
On Fridays, I walk a girl home from school. Her name is Layla. Layla and I have been friends since like…preschool. I’d probably consider her my best friend if I saw her more outside of school, but she’s a member of a lot of clubs and participates in a lot of extra curricular activities, so she’s rarely free. She’s also probably the only hot chick in school that I haven’t banged.
Regardless, I pretty much tell her everything.
“Zac, I’m having a party tonight because my parent’s are going to visit my grandma out of town…do you wanna come?” Layla threw her long brown hair over her shoulder and looked up at me through her dark eyelashes.
“‘Course,” I replied casually, taking her books from her so her small arms wouldn’t have to carry them. I was feeling nice, and apparently she noticed.
“Oh my Gosh, did Zachary Walker Hanson just take my books and not throw them into the dirt? When the hell did you become a gentleman?” She laughed as I faked shock.
“For your information,” I began, “I am no longer a little boy, but a mature man. I expect to be treated with the utmost respect.” Layla scoffed loudly and took her books back when we arrived in front of her house.
“Okay Stud,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Be at my house at 10. You can bring anyone you want, the party’s open house.”
“What about Taylor?” I asked without thinking.
“Taylor?” She raised a perfectly manicured, very thin eyebrow. “As in…the gorgeous blonde?”
“No,” I smirked, “that’s me.”
She rolled her eyes again and hit my chest. “Yes, you can bring him. Just make sure you keep him with you at all times. Otherwise, I might be forced to steal him.” We both laughed and said our goodbyes, and after she’d gone inside I raced home to invite Taylor to his first high school shindig. Granted, he probably wouldn’t want to come because 1) he’d already graduated, 2) he’d hated high school when he’d been there, and 3) he knew that most people thought he was incredibly bizarre. But I was determined to make him come. You all remember I’m sure, that I’m extremely persuasive and have the ability to manipulate anyone into doing anything I want them to at any given moment with my magic stick. And if the magic stick fails, (which is virtually impossible), there are always other ways to coerce others. Zac Hanson is not above bribery.
----------------------------------
“Zachary Walker! Come in here and help your mother and me with the dishes!” Ah, so that was where my mother had inherited the dreaded shrill from. My grandmother’s scream was what greeted me upon entering my house, and I was unfortunately forced to endure a full 30 minutes of dishwashing and question-answering before I could go upstairs to see my…Taylor.
Taylor’s door was open, which was very odd. We Hansons never keep our doors open for obvious reasons, and Taylor was no exception. When I poked my head in, I found him immersed scribbling in his Journal; his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his hair obscuring his eyes.
“Tay,” I whispered as I came in and shut the door behind me. His head shot up as if I’d blown a foghorn and he took off one ear of his headphones.
“Hey Zac,” he smiled, putting down his pencil and notebook. “How was school?”
“It was okay,” I answered, sitting next to him on the floor. “I missed you though.” He smiled even wider, taking his headphones off completely and running his fingers through his long blond hair. I moved closer to him and kissed his lips gently, for the first time taking in how they felt against mine. They were extraordinarily soft…oddly soft, actually. Softer than any woman’s I’d kissed, and they tasted like cinnamon. I moved one hand to his jaw, which was also weird to touch because his facial features were so smooth and untypical for a man. All of this was different, but it felt so good. Before I was ready, he broke the kiss and wiped his mouth, blushing fiercely.
“Tay, I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Hm?”
“Well…” I started, tracing small circles on his thigh with my finger, “Layla’s having a few people over tonight, nothing too big, but she asked me to come and to invite you.” Okay, so I was lying a little. No big deal.
“Zac, you know I don’t do parties.”
“Pleaaaaase,” I whined, sticking my face under his and making puppy eyes at him. “It would mean so much to me and Layla too! She really wants you to come and I think you would have a lot of fun and it’s not gonna be a lotta people I swear just a few and-“
“Zac!” He cut me off, scared a little and moving my hand off his lap. “I’m not going.”
“What if I bribe you?”
“With what?”
“Anything.”
“Contrary to what you might think, I’m not in desperate need of your sex” he said.
“Excuse you, but I was not talking about sex. How about…” I thought. “How about I go to see you play at one of your concerts?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t you want to do that? You know, if you’re so interested in me and everything…”
“Taylor, I am begging you to come with me to this party. Okay? If you don’t want to stay then we’ll go. Please just give it a shot.” By that point I was expecting to get kicked out of his room all together, but he surprised me.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“Seriously?!!?” I exclaimed in astonishment, grabbing his face and kissing his cheek roughly. “You won’t regret it, Taylor!” I screamed as I jumped up and ran into my room to take a shower.
----------------------------------------
When I went back into Taylor’s room to see how much progress he’d made, he was still sitting where I’d left him, scribbling in his damn Journal and wearing worn-out jeans and no shirt. His hair was almost dirty blonde (from its original platinum) due to all the grease, and if we weren’t about to go to a party I would’ve offered to bathe him. Or throw him on the ground and fuck his brains out. Either one.
“Hey, baby?” I sat down in front of him and looked at my watch. “It’s almost a quarter to 10 and you’re still not…clean.” He looked up at me confusedly.
“Why do I need to ‘get clean’?”
“Because you look homeless. Incredibly sexy, but homeless.” He frowned.
“Zac, I really don’t want to dress up for this. I don’t even think I own nice clothes.”
“Well can you at least shower and I’ll let you borrow something from me?” I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled at it a little. “You’re gross.”
He sighed and put his Journal under his bed, muttering some shit about “stupid high school kids” and “showers” as he left the room to go take care of business.
---------------------------------------
I was quite pleased with how Taylor turned out. He was wearing one of my tight, white button-downs and a pair of his own ripped jeans. His hair was clean and he smelled…ungh. Amazing.
We arrived at Layla’s (in my mother’s non-broken BMW) at about 10:30. There were already a number of cars outside her house, and from the distance I could make out the faces of some of my Basketball friends who were standing by the window. When I told Taylor it was time to go inside, he just sat there frozen with his hands on the wheel.
“Tay, are you alright?” I touched his arm gently.
“I’m not going in there.”
“Why?”
He turned his face to mine. His expression was almost pained.
“You said it was only a few people! Please don’t make me go in there. I’ll drop you off and pick you up later. I can’t go in.” He literally looked scared.
“Baby,” I moved my hand to his face and pet it softly with the back of my hand, “Relax. You’ll have a good time.”
“No I won’t.”
I moved to kiss his cheek and then whispered in his ear, “Please, do it for me.” When he didn’t answer, I placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered against it, “You look so fucking fine…I’d hate to deprive all those people the pleasure of staring at you.” He smiled at that.
Oh, I was too good. 1-0 for the Magic Stick.
---------------------------------------
Things went pretty well for the first hour. Taylor received a few confused glances, as did I, but once everyone had a few drinks in ‘em things seemed to loosen up. Everyone there knew who Taylor was and also knew that he and I didn’t usually get along, but no one asked why I’d brought him which was relieving.
“Zac,” Tay smiled woozily at me, leaning his head back against the paisley couch, “I think I had more drinks than I should have.”
I laughed and touched the pinkish tip of his nose. “Don’t worry, I can drive home.”
“But you can’t drive past-“ Hiccup- “nine!”
“I promise, I will not kill us.” I smiled reassuringly, but when I realized how close we were sitting and the odd look Layla was giving us, I moved away a little. “Tay, we gotta make sure we’re not so obvious around these people.”
He frowned and picked his head up. “Why, you embarrassed?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Please, let’s not do this.”
He agreed, nodding his head and looking out at the crowd of people. The girls that were there were all making eyes at my brother, who even in his drunken haze, was a total babe. They giggled and whispered things to each other, and honestly I wanted to tell them to back the fuck off my man. I couldn’t though, which was frustrating.
“Zac!” Layla squeed, bouncing over to the two of us. I leaned forward and we kissed on both cheeks, and as she pulled away I noticed the flushed rose of her cheeks when she looked at my brother. “Taylor,” she smiled to one side, flipping her hair behind her back, “Can I get you anything? It’s great to see you here…”
“No thanks,” he said, smiling politely and leaning his head on my shoulder. “I just drunk a lot.”
She giggled loudly and bit her lip. “Well if you boys need anything…” and with a last wink and toss of her hair, she went to talk to someone else. Thank God. Bitch needed to lay off Taylor.
“Tay,” I whispered against his hair, “I’m gonna go talk to some people. I’ll be back in a minute.” He nodded and closed his eyes, and I got up and went to go talk to my friends.
--------------------------
After about an hour of socializing with my friends, I remembered that I’d left Taylor in the living room. I figured it was time to go anyway, so I said goodbye to Layla and my Basketball team and went to go find him.
“Tay?” I yelled as I pushed through the crowds of people, “Where are you?” I got a little panicked after about 10 minutes of searching and made my way outside to see if he’d already gotten into the car.
“Tay?” I called again as I left the house, tying my hair back into a ponytail. I turned the corner and found my completely wasted older brother pinned against the wall by someone I’d never seen before. He was big -much bigger than Taylor- and his face looked angry. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Taylor held his tongue between his teeth and giggled like a 2 year old as the guy spoke in his face.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, “my brother’s very drunk and I’m going to take him home now.” I grabbed Taylor’s hand and tugged it suggestively and protectively but the guy held him tighter against the wall.
“Fuck that,” he spat drunkenly, “this little pansy touched my God damned leg in front of the whole party in there. You expect me to let ‘im get away with that shit?” If the guy wasn’t so much bigger than me, I’d probably just knee him in the nuts and get it over with, but suicide really wasn’t on my list of things to do right then.
“I’m sorry, he’s really drunk and probably has no idea what’s going on right now. Please, just leave him alone.” Reason just wouldn’t penetrate this belligerent drunken buffoon’s skull, as I soon found out when he scratched bitten nails down Taylor’s cheek and made him whimper. That was just totally out of line.
“Yer faggot brother needs to learn’da keep his hands to himself!” The guy slurred, slapping Taylor hard across the cheek.
“Fuck you, dude!” I yelled, pushing the guy out of the way and standing in front of Taylor protectively. No one calls Taylor a pansy, physically hurts him, and lives to tell the tale.
The guy stumbled a little before charging at me. I moved Taylor and myself quickly out of the way and watched as the guy ran right into the brick facing of the wall. He fell backwards and lay unconsciously on the ground, blood forming a halo around his concussed head. We left him there to bleed, and Taylor cried the whole way home.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash / Hanson / Hancest / Zaylor / Drama
Warnings: Language, Drug use, Slash, Sex
Pairing: Zac & Taylor
Credits & many Thanks: to heart_iswild
http://heart-iswild.livejournal.com
Notes: Hanson ain't famous in this Story, but Taylor is in a band called Aphrodite. Don't wonder about Taylor's tattoo ;-)
Sorry for the delay guys here is Chapter 9
On Fridays, I walk a girl home from school. Her name is Layla. Layla and I have been friends since like…preschool. I’d probably consider her my best friend if I saw her more outside of school, but she’s a member of a lot of clubs and participates in a lot of extra curricular activities, so she’s rarely free. She’s also probably the only hot chick in school that I haven’t banged.
Regardless, I pretty much tell her everything.
“Zac, I’m having a party tonight because my parent’s are going to visit my grandma out of town…do you wanna come?” Layla threw her long brown hair over her shoulder and looked up at me through her dark eyelashes.
“‘Course,” I replied casually, taking her books from her so her small arms wouldn’t have to carry them. I was feeling nice, and apparently she noticed.
“Oh my Gosh, did Zachary Walker Hanson just take my books and not throw them into the dirt? When the hell did you become a gentleman?” She laughed as I faked shock.
“For your information,” I began, “I am no longer a little boy, but a mature man. I expect to be treated with the utmost respect.” Layla scoffed loudly and took her books back when we arrived in front of her house.
“Okay Stud,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Be at my house at 10. You can bring anyone you want, the party’s open house.”
“What about Taylor?” I asked without thinking.
“Taylor?” She raised a perfectly manicured, very thin eyebrow. “As in…the gorgeous blonde?”
“No,” I smirked, “that’s me.”
She rolled her eyes again and hit my chest. “Yes, you can bring him. Just make sure you keep him with you at all times. Otherwise, I might be forced to steal him.” We both laughed and said our goodbyes, and after she’d gone inside I raced home to invite Taylor to his first high school shindig. Granted, he probably wouldn’t want to come because 1) he’d already graduated, 2) he’d hated high school when he’d been there, and 3) he knew that most people thought he was incredibly bizarre. But I was determined to make him come. You all remember I’m sure, that I’m extremely persuasive and have the ability to manipulate anyone into doing anything I want them to at any given moment with my magic stick. And if the magic stick fails, (which is virtually impossible), there are always other ways to coerce others. Zac Hanson is not above bribery.
----------------------------------
“Zachary Walker! Come in here and help your mother and me with the dishes!” Ah, so that was where my mother had inherited the dreaded shrill from. My grandmother’s scream was what greeted me upon entering my house, and I was unfortunately forced to endure a full 30 minutes of dishwashing and question-answering before I could go upstairs to see my…Taylor.
Taylor’s door was open, which was very odd. We Hansons never keep our doors open for obvious reasons, and Taylor was no exception. When I poked my head in, I found him immersed scribbling in his Journal; his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his hair obscuring his eyes.
“Tay,” I whispered as I came in and shut the door behind me. His head shot up as if I’d blown a foghorn and he took off one ear of his headphones.
“Hey Zac,” he smiled, putting down his pencil and notebook. “How was school?”
“It was okay,” I answered, sitting next to him on the floor. “I missed you though.” He smiled even wider, taking his headphones off completely and running his fingers through his long blond hair. I moved closer to him and kissed his lips gently, for the first time taking in how they felt against mine. They were extraordinarily soft…oddly soft, actually. Softer than any woman’s I’d kissed, and they tasted like cinnamon. I moved one hand to his jaw, which was also weird to touch because his facial features were so smooth and untypical for a man. All of this was different, but it felt so good. Before I was ready, he broke the kiss and wiped his mouth, blushing fiercely.
“Tay, I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Hm?”
“Well…” I started, tracing small circles on his thigh with my finger, “Layla’s having a few people over tonight, nothing too big, but she asked me to come and to invite you.” Okay, so I was lying a little. No big deal.
“Zac, you know I don’t do parties.”
“Pleaaaaase,” I whined, sticking my face under his and making puppy eyes at him. “It would mean so much to me and Layla too! She really wants you to come and I think you would have a lot of fun and it’s not gonna be a lotta people I swear just a few and-“
“Zac!” He cut me off, scared a little and moving my hand off his lap. “I’m not going.”
“What if I bribe you?”
“With what?”
“Anything.”
“Contrary to what you might think, I’m not in desperate need of your sex” he said.
“Excuse you, but I was not talking about sex. How about…” I thought. “How about I go to see you play at one of your concerts?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t you want to do that? You know, if you’re so interested in me and everything…”
“Taylor, I am begging you to come with me to this party. Okay? If you don’t want to stay then we’ll go. Please just give it a shot.” By that point I was expecting to get kicked out of his room all together, but he surprised me.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“Seriously?!!?” I exclaimed in astonishment, grabbing his face and kissing his cheek roughly. “You won’t regret it, Taylor!” I screamed as I jumped up and ran into my room to take a shower.
----------------------------------------
When I went back into Taylor’s room to see how much progress he’d made, he was still sitting where I’d left him, scribbling in his damn Journal and wearing worn-out jeans and no shirt. His hair was almost dirty blonde (from its original platinum) due to all the grease, and if we weren’t about to go to a party I would’ve offered to bathe him. Or throw him on the ground and fuck his brains out. Either one.
“Hey, baby?” I sat down in front of him and looked at my watch. “It’s almost a quarter to 10 and you’re still not…clean.” He looked up at me confusedly.
“Why do I need to ‘get clean’?”
“Because you look homeless. Incredibly sexy, but homeless.” He frowned.
“Zac, I really don’t want to dress up for this. I don’t even think I own nice clothes.”
“Well can you at least shower and I’ll let you borrow something from me?” I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled at it a little. “You’re gross.”
He sighed and put his Journal under his bed, muttering some shit about “stupid high school kids” and “showers” as he left the room to go take care of business.
---------------------------------------
I was quite pleased with how Taylor turned out. He was wearing one of my tight, white button-downs and a pair of his own ripped jeans. His hair was clean and he smelled…ungh. Amazing.
We arrived at Layla’s (in my mother’s non-broken BMW) at about 10:30. There were already a number of cars outside her house, and from the distance I could make out the faces of some of my Basketball friends who were standing by the window. When I told Taylor it was time to go inside, he just sat there frozen with his hands on the wheel.
“Tay, are you alright?” I touched his arm gently.
“I’m not going in there.”
“Why?”
He turned his face to mine. His expression was almost pained.
“You said it was only a few people! Please don’t make me go in there. I’ll drop you off and pick you up later. I can’t go in.” He literally looked scared.
“Baby,” I moved my hand to his face and pet it softly with the back of my hand, “Relax. You’ll have a good time.”
“No I won’t.”
I moved to kiss his cheek and then whispered in his ear, “Please, do it for me.” When he didn’t answer, I placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered against it, “You look so fucking fine…I’d hate to deprive all those people the pleasure of staring at you.” He smiled at that.
Oh, I was too good. 1-0 for the Magic Stick.
---------------------------------------
Things went pretty well for the first hour. Taylor received a few confused glances, as did I, but once everyone had a few drinks in ‘em things seemed to loosen up. Everyone there knew who Taylor was and also knew that he and I didn’t usually get along, but no one asked why I’d brought him which was relieving.
“Zac,” Tay smiled woozily at me, leaning his head back against the paisley couch, “I think I had more drinks than I should have.”
I laughed and touched the pinkish tip of his nose. “Don’t worry, I can drive home.”
“But you can’t drive past-“ Hiccup- “nine!”
“I promise, I will not kill us.” I smiled reassuringly, but when I realized how close we were sitting and the odd look Layla was giving us, I moved away a little. “Tay, we gotta make sure we’re not so obvious around these people.”
He frowned and picked his head up. “Why, you embarrassed?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Please, let’s not do this.”
He agreed, nodding his head and looking out at the crowd of people. The girls that were there were all making eyes at my brother, who even in his drunken haze, was a total babe. They giggled and whispered things to each other, and honestly I wanted to tell them to back the fuck off my man. I couldn’t though, which was frustrating.
“Zac!” Layla squeed, bouncing over to the two of us. I leaned forward and we kissed on both cheeks, and as she pulled away I noticed the flushed rose of her cheeks when she looked at my brother. “Taylor,” she smiled to one side, flipping her hair behind her back, “Can I get you anything? It’s great to see you here…”
“No thanks,” he said, smiling politely and leaning his head on my shoulder. “I just drunk a lot.”
She giggled loudly and bit her lip. “Well if you boys need anything…” and with a last wink and toss of her hair, she went to talk to someone else. Thank God. Bitch needed to lay off Taylor.
“Tay,” I whispered against his hair, “I’m gonna go talk to some people. I’ll be back in a minute.” He nodded and closed his eyes, and I got up and went to go talk to my friends.
--------------------------
After about an hour of socializing with my friends, I remembered that I’d left Taylor in the living room. I figured it was time to go anyway, so I said goodbye to Layla and my Basketball team and went to go find him.
“Tay?” I yelled as I pushed through the crowds of people, “Where are you?” I got a little panicked after about 10 minutes of searching and made my way outside to see if he’d already gotten into the car.
“Tay?” I called again as I left the house, tying my hair back into a ponytail. I turned the corner and found my completely wasted older brother pinned against the wall by someone I’d never seen before. He was big -much bigger than Taylor- and his face looked angry. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Taylor held his tongue between his teeth and giggled like a 2 year old as the guy spoke in his face.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, “my brother’s very drunk and I’m going to take him home now.” I grabbed Taylor’s hand and tugged it suggestively and protectively but the guy held him tighter against the wall.
“Fuck that,” he spat drunkenly, “this little pansy touched my God damned leg in front of the whole party in there. You expect me to let ‘im get away with that shit?” If the guy wasn’t so much bigger than me, I’d probably just knee him in the nuts and get it over with, but suicide really wasn’t on my list of things to do right then.
“I’m sorry, he’s really drunk and probably has no idea what’s going on right now. Please, just leave him alone.” Reason just wouldn’t penetrate this belligerent drunken buffoon’s skull, as I soon found out when he scratched bitten nails down Taylor’s cheek and made him whimper. That was just totally out of line.
“Yer faggot brother needs to learn’da keep his hands to himself!” The guy slurred, slapping Taylor hard across the cheek.
“Fuck you, dude!” I yelled, pushing the guy out of the way and standing in front of Taylor protectively. No one calls Taylor a pansy, physically hurts him, and lives to tell the tale.
The guy stumbled a little before charging at me. I moved Taylor and myself quickly out of the way and watched as the guy ran right into the brick facing of the wall. He fell backwards and lay unconsciously on the ground, blood forming a halo around his concussed head. We left him there to bleed, and Taylor cried the whole way home.