Moonlight Mile - 4

[ahopper84]

Title: Moonlight Mile
Author: Amber (ahopper84)
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: R/NC-17
Genre: Romance, angst, drama
Warnings: none yet...
Summary: Hanson the band is no more; Taylor walked away from that life a long time ago, after having a hand in its destruction. But when Zac suddenly reappears in his life, looking to reconnect, maybe Taylor can learn to forgive himself, and find that some things happen for a reason.
Excerpt:At least some things never change, I think with a smile.
A/N: So... anyone remember this one? Um... yeah, no good excuse. But I'm adding this to my to-do list, so keep an eye out for more!



“Do you wanna go swimming?” Zac asks as he unlocks the door to our motel room. The sun’s just starting to set over Joplin, Missouri. Normally a two hour drive, it’s taken us all day to get this far, between stopping for gas and food, and the winding path of the mother road. We almost lost our way once already thanks to outdated signs. But we had fun, listening to our old demos and searching for landmarks long abandoned. I feel like there’s a correlation there somewhere.

“Does this place have a pool?”

“Yep, behind this row of rooms. I asked when I was getting our keys.” Zac sets his duffel bag at the floor of one bed, and I do the same with my suitcase. “You did pack your swim trunks, right?”

“Pretty sure I did, yeah.” I open my suitcase, and after some rustling I find the navy blue shorts. “Got ‘em.” When I turn around, Zac is already stripping his shirt off. I look away quickly; it’s not that I’m embarrassed, but I haven’t seen him shirtless since he was fourteen. I can still see his reflection in the mirror over the dresser, but his back is turned to me.

He’s not all that big, but he’s obviously in good shape. He was always been a bit stocky, when we were teens, especially compared to my lanky frame, but now his body is solid, muscular arms and shoulders leading down to an only slightly softer midsection. I close my eyes and turn away as he hooks his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and begins to tug down.

“You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna get changed?” he asks, and I look up. Thankfully he’s dressed, his black swim shorts sitting low on his hips.

“Oh, um… yeah. I just gotta…” I head into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

“Well hurry up,” he calls through the door. “And grab the towels, I kinda forgot to pack any.”

“Sure.” I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. I really need to get it together. Sure, I’ve been a little pent-up lately, but I was just staring at Zac, my brother, and… and thinking about how hot he is. I shake my head and start to change. It’s nothing, it’s just my sexually frustrated mind being weird. It’s not like I’m actually attracted to Zac… that’d be wrong…

I grab the two towels hanging on the bar and exit the bathroom; Zac’s sitting on one of the beds, my bed actually, but he stands and grins. His smile is just as bright as it ever was, something I’ve noticed countless times in the last twenty-four hours. I have a feeling mine’s dimmed over the years.

“Cannonball!” Zac yells as soon as we reach the pool. He gets a running start and jumps into the water; luckily there’s nobody else here. I laugh and set our things down on a lawn chair, then walk to the edge. Zac surfaces a minute later, shaking his head and flinging drops of water all around him.

“How is it?”

“A little chilly,” he says, laughing and swimming up to me. “Why don’t you find out?” Before I can react he reaches up and grabs me by the wrist, yanking me down. I have just enough time to draw half a breath before my body hits the cool water, but the impact makes my head dizzy. I scramble to the surface and hear laughter through water-logged ears. I honestly should’ve seen that coming, I think to myself.

“Thanks for that,” I snap at him, splashing in his direction, but he ducks underwater. I try to watch his shadow, but the area is dimly lit, and I quickly lose sight of him. I hear him come up behind me and I jump, but he’s just floating on his back, staring up at the sky. I take a breath, relieved that he’s leaving me alone for now. I dunk my head again, coming up face-first to smooth out my hair, then start a slow lap of the pool.

“This is nice,” Zac says, and I nod, coming to a stop next to him.

“Yeah… you can really see the stars out here.” Even though we’re not that far from the main part of the city, there isn’t much light pollution, and I can clearly make out a few constellations.

“I don’t get views like this back home.”

“No?” I tilt my head at him, curious. For a moment he looks almost sad as he shakes his head.

“Remember our old treehouse? We used to sleep out there and pretend we were stranded on an island, like in that old book mom made us read?”

“Yeah… I remember.” I honestly haven’t thought about it in years, but as soon as he mentioned it, it all came back. Our dad had built it for all the kids, but Zac and I were the ones that used it the most. During the spring before our first album got released, we spent practically every night out there, talking about how things would be different once we were famous.

“I heard the people that bought the property tore it down.”

“Mhm. There’s another house there now, I think.”

“Damn. I really would’ve liked to go back, just once. Just for old time’s sake, you know?” He looks at me and there’s such a deep longing in his eyes. I wish I knew what to say to fix it, but I know there’s nothing I can say. There is no going back, at least not to our childhood home. Is the same true for us? Can we ever return to how things were before? I hope so.

Zac shakes his head and swims away, doing a few backflips and handstands. At least some things never change, I think with a smile.

We stay out for a little while, until we decide to order a pizza. I insist on paying, but as he’s calling in our order, I overhear him giving his credit card information. I sigh and shake my head; apparently his stubbornness hasn’t changed either.

“Okay, should be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, sitting on his bed. We’ve gotten out of our swim trunks, but he hasn’t bothered with a shirt. I have to stop myself from staring more than once; he’s so different, so mature now, and I can’t help mentally cataloging the ways he’s grown.

“So,” he says with a sheepish grin. “There’s probably a better way to bring this up, but… do you wanna smoke?”

I stare at him for a second, remembering the rolling papers.

“You, um… you mean weed, right?” I don’t like how out of touch I sound, or the way Zac’s smile falls. “I’m not judging you or anything. I just… I didn’t think you…”

“It helps calm me down,” he says with a shrug. “Not that I’m stressed out or anything, it’s just… It’s like having a drink. It’s just fun to do sometimes, you know? You don’t have to, and I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine. I… I just haven’t smoked in a really long time. But, yeah. Yeah, we can smoke.”

“Yeah?” Zac grins so wide it almost makes my cheeks sore. “Okay, cool. I’ll roll us a joint. Wanna pick out a movie or something?”

“Sure.” I sit back on my bed and grab the remote, flipping to the pay-per-view menu. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Zac rolls a joint; his fingers move so quickly, I have to wonder how long he’s been doing this. Was it someone we knew that introduced him to it? It seems likely, considering the crowd we were around when we were a band. I feel a pang of guilt, irrational as it might be, for not sheltering him. Just another failing as an older brother, I think with a sigh.

“What’s up?” Zac looks up at me, his tongue darting out to lick the paper, and for a moment I forget my thoughts.

“Oh, um… nothing. Just wondering where you learned to do that.”

“I don’t remember who it was,” he answers with a shrug. The way he looks up at me through his lashes tells a different story, though.

“But was it… back then?” I ask. He stares for a moment, then nods. I let out a breath and shake my head.

“I know what you’re thinking," he says. "And you’re wrong. It’s not your fault. I actually…” He pauses, and looks down to lick the paper of a second joint. “I started smoking before I knew you did.”

Something sparks in my mind, a flash of a memory. A fight with Isaac, one of dozens, but I remember him accusing me of setting a bad example. It’s a small consolation that he was wrong about one thing, at least, but it’s a consolation nonetheless. I actually let out a soft laugh at that, and Zac looks up again.

“Isaac… he used to love telling me I was a shitty role model.”

“Yeah well that’s just ‘cuz he’s always had a stick up his ass,” Zac says, his joking tone laced with a hint of real venom. “I swear his favorite pastime was talking shit about everyone else.”

“He was right, though. Just maybe not about the smoking.”

“Bullshit! Tay, he was a total ass. The shit he used to say about-” He stops himself suddenly and looks away, but I know what he was going to say.

“About me. I know. But he was right, Zac. I was a shitty role model. I was a shitty brother.” I can feel myself getting choked up, and I look away to try to hide it. But a moment later I feel the bed shift, and an arm wrap around my shoulders. When I turn to face Zac, his eyes are misty.

“Tay, stop, please. You weren’t a shitty anything, least of all brother. If anyone was, it was Ike. He was just so… closed-minded. Didn’t want to hear anything that didn’t fit his perfect little world-view. Still doesn’t,” he adds, looking down.

“Zac…”

“You wanna know why I don’t talk to him much anymore?” Zac stares, waiting for an answer. I nod, and he searches my face, for what I don’t know. He takes a breath, starts to speak, stops, and then starts again.

“That friend of mine… the one I’ve been living with? His name is Vincent.”

It doesn’t take long for his meaning to sink in. My little brother is gay.

“Oh, Zac…”