ahopper84

Title: Never Be The Same Again
Chapter: 15
Pairings: Zaylor
POV: Taylor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:
Word Count: 2053
Author's Note: HUGE thank you to shewasred for helping me with this one!

I'm running, but I don't know why. All around me is darkness; I can't see where I am, or where I'm going, or even the ground beneath my feet. But I have to keep running. Am I running after something? Or from something? I don't know. I hear someone call my name, but I can't tell what direction it's coming from. I keep pushing myself forward, a feeling of despaeration creeping into my heart. I hear my name again, louder, but I shut my eyes and run faster. I shake my head as I run; I feel like I'm gaining on whatever it is I'm after. If I can just keep going, just a little further...

"Taylor!" I sit up in my bead, gasping for breath. When my vision clears, I see Ike sitting on the edge of my bed, his hands on my shoulders. His eyes are wide with concern, and I realize I was having a nightmare. With a groan, I let myself fall back to the bed.

"What happened?" I ask, my throat painfully dry. Ike hands me a glass of water; I smile gratefully at him and chug it down.

"You tell me. All I know is you called me at four this morning, completely obliterated, and I had to drive all the way out to some dive bar to get your drunk ass back here." His tone is more amused and worried than angry. I try to remember, but my head is pounding. Slowly, snippets of last night start to come back. The bar... I wanted to get totally shut-faced, and I guess I succeeded. But why...

And then I remember. Zac. The party. The... the kiss. The fighting. The other kiss. And then... Oh, God. What have I done?

"And then," Ike continues, making me look up at him. "I got a text from Zac this morning. He flew home. Taylor... what happened?" His voice softens at the last part, and I feel the sting of tears forming. Before I can stop myself, I crumble; Ike wraps his arms around me and rubs my back as I sob into his shoulder.

"Sh, it's okay. It'll be okay." He doesn't know. He can't. If he did, he would know that it is most certainly not okay. How could I have been so selfish? So stupid? I shake my head; he has no idea just how not okay it is. After I calm down a bit, he nudges me back, staring intently at me.

Taylor, please. Tell me what happened." My eyes dart away nervously, and I bite my lip. How could I tell him? He'd never forgive me. He sighs heavily and sits back, releasing me. When I look back, though, his gaze is no less serious.

"That's it. This has gone on long enough. You guys have been doing this back and forth shit for months now." My eyes widen; I didn't think he'd noticed. "What, you think I'm blind? I'm your brother too; I pick up on just as much as you two do. And honestly, I'm tired of it." His voice softens again, as well as his eyes.

"I don't know what's gotten into you two. You guys used to be inseparable. But now, it's like... like you're afraid of each other. I'm really starting to worry about you. Zac said he talked to you, and it seemed like you guys were on the mend. But now... I don't know. What happened last night?"

"I... I can't. You wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't understand? Taylor. I'm your big brother, in case you forgot. It's my job to understand." I search his eyes. Maybe...

"We were at Jake's party last night. Everything was going fine. Until... Molly, she started talking about this movie, where there were these two brothers, and then we were talking about it, and how two chicks is hot but two guys is gross, and then her and her sister made out, and they were pushing us, and telling us it's no big deal, and I... I looked at Zac... and he... I just..." I collapse in tears again, as I remember the look on his face. He was so scared, looking to me for comfort. And I tore it away from him.

"Taylor..." Ike's voice is suspicious, and I turn away. I don't want to see his face. I don't want him to see mine.

"Taylor, did you..." I nod weakly, and I hear him let out a breath.

"So then what happened?" I shudder, not wanting to relive it. But I may as well finish what I started.

"He... he started to kiss back. But then we looked at each other... and he freaked out. Punched me in the jaw."

"That would explain the lovely bruise." I touch a hand to my cheek; sure enough, it's sore and swollen.

"So, you kissed him, and he started to kiss back, but panicked, punched you, and... flew back to Tulsa?" Ike's tone suggests that he doubts it ended that easily. I wish it had.

"No. He... he ran out, and I chased after him. We kind of... fought. He... he accused me of wanting it, even before... and I reminded him that he kissed me back. He said it was just because he was drunk. But I know that's bull. I know it. He... And then... we kissed again. And... and it was..." I feel my cheeks turn bright red, my body reacting to the memory, and I turn even farther away from Ike. After a minute, I clear my throat roughly and finish.

"I reminded him we were outside, and that's when he freaked out again. He just... walked away. And I let him." The tears are returning, slowly this time, and I close my eyes. Silence hangs heavy in the room. I'd almost think Ike was gone, if I didn't still feel his weight on the bed.

"He's right," I whisper, half to myself. "This is... wrong. I'm wrong. He was right, sort of, only... I guess I'm the sick one." After what seems like ages, Ike lets out a sigh.

"You're... not sick. You're not wrong; neither of you are. You're just so damn... stubborn," he finishes with a laugh. I turn to look at him, confused. He isn't looking at me with disgust, or shame, or anger. He looks... sympathetic.

"You two really are alike, you know. You bottle stuff up, until it blows up in your faces. But this... This isn't gonna be so easy to fix," he says sadly, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"What should I do?" I hate how weak I sound, but Ike just pats my shoulder lightly, before standing.

"I wish I knew what to tell you, but I have to admit, you've got me stumped on this one. Just... give him some time. Let him think things over. And then, maybe you two can talk. See what happens." I smile up at him, suddenly prouder than ever to have him as a brother.

"Isaac... how are you not... how are you okay with this?" He just smirks, shaking his head.

"I've... had plenty of time to adjust to the idea. Honestly, I've been wondering when the hell you guys were gonna get a clue." With another smile, he leaves the room. I sit back, completely shocked. He knows? And... he's okay with it? I lay back down, wrapping myself in the blankets.

Maybe he's right; maybe I just need to give Zac some time. This can't be easy for him to deal with, especially since it's exactly what he's been trying to disprove for the past six months or so. Hell, I'm having a hard time dealing with my... feelings. Because last night, I realized that they go beyond attraction.

I was selfish. I had wanted to kiss him. He was so beautiful in that moment, and I couldn't deny how badly I wanted him. How badly I'd been wanting him. I couldn't hold back anymore. And yet, I still believed that, other than the overwhelming attraction, I had nothing but brotherly love for Zac.

All that changed when I touched my lips to his.

In that moment, everything became painfully clear. All the little pieces that I'd either missed or ignored, suddenly clicked into place. The connection we shared, the pain I'd felt when he'd pulled away, the compelling need to be near him, emotionally and physically. Sure, it could be explained away. But I knew better now.

I love him.

And I don't feel dirty, or ashamed, or wrong, or any of the negative emotions Zac is convinced I should feel. I think back to the talk we had, shortly after I came out to him. He asked me how I knew it was really love, and not just lust. I told him that I just... knew. And that's how it is now. I don't know how I love him. I just know. And I refuse to believe that love can be a sin.

We all have our inner conscience, to tell us right from wrong. We're taught all our lives to trust this voice, to let it guide us to the right decisions. That voice is telling me that this is right. Loving Zac is right. Wanting him is right. Being with him is right. I just wish I could make him see that.

I sit up in bed, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. I dial his number, but I'm not surprised when it goes straight to voicemail. I leave him a message anyway, asking him to call me back, when he's ready. I hang up and lay back down, burying my head in the pillows.

The look in his eyes after that second kiss haunts me. I could feel the war being waged within him, between what he wanted, and what he thought he should want. Or shouldn't, as the case may be. But I know he feels the same. I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in his lips on mine.

I just need to give him time. I sit up again and pull out my laptop. I know this isn't going to make me feel any better in the long run, but right now I don't care. A few minutes later, I'm once again browsing image after image of us, leaning on each other, hugging, smiling lovingly at each other.

I make my way to livejournal, reading a few short stories. Some are hot, but the ones that catch my attention today are sweet, sentimental stories, that resonate with the complicated tangle of emotions in my heart. One in particular stands out; it takes place when we were younger, but in this we're just two normal kids. No band, no fame. Just two young brothers, each other's first love.

When I can't take anymore, I put away the laptop and drag myself out of bed, intent on a shower. The hot water soothes my aching muscles, but does nothing for the pain I feel in my chest. I lean my head against the wall of the shower, letting the water stream down over my face. It masks the tears that begin to fall slowly; I'm too tired for the angry, violent sobs of last night. Now, I just let them flow, shuddering now and then, almost enjoying the release.

When I'm out and dressed, I check my phone. to no avail. Just give him time, I tell myself. I can do that for him. I'm willing to do anything for him. Even if it means burying these feelings, pretending they don't exist. If that's what will make him happy, I don't care. I love him too much to ever want to see him in pain. And if he can't deal with these emotions, if he'd rather ignore them, deny them, then I'll do it. I'm praying it doesn't come to that, but if it does, so be it.

I stare out the window, looking out over the city, the ocean visible in between the skyscrapers. I know he's not down there; he's fifteen hundred miles away, in the other direction. But I can't help searching for him anyway. I let my eyes close, leaning my head against the glass. Zac...