Give Me My Sin Again

I was already two mini bottles of vodka in when I heard the knock on my hotel room door.

I shoved the bottles under the bed, although I figured it was just one of the crew guys coming to bring me the larger bottle he’d promised to buy for me. I hadn’t decided yet if our crew was just humoring me or if they were like everyone else—eager to do whatever the little superstar wanted. Either way, they had helped me cover my tracks with replacement bottles in several cities so far this tour, and up to this point, no one seemed to suspect a thing.

Not a single, fucking thing.

It wasn’t one of the crew guys, though. It was Zac. The door hadn’t even closed again behind him before he was off, ranting and whining at a mile a minute. I didn’t manage to catch much more than fuck, bitch and Marion but that was enough for me to get the gist of his problem.

“I know what will help,” I said, pleased that I sounded relatively sober.

Zac blinked, freezing on the shot. “What?”

“This,” I said, making an exaggerated gesture toward the minibar.

Zac raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. I pulled out a bottle of tequila and two plastic cups. I was pretty sure Zac hadn’t had much to drink before, and I was still a little bit of a lightweight myself. I didn’t really care, though, and it didn’t seem like he did either. His first breakup definitely called for getting shitfaced, and me—well, I was already well on my way to a serious drinking problem, and I really didn’t care.

We drank in silence for a few minutes, both of us clearly trying to hide how weak we were, even though every sip had us both coughing and sputtering. Finally, Zac cleared his throat.

“Hey, Tay?” He began. “How far have you gone? I mean, with Natalie or… whoever.”

“I—what—you mean, like, sex?” I sputtered.

Zac nodded eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly.

He had always been silent when Isaac bragged about his conquests, but surely he had noticed that I never had much input either. Still, he was getting older. I supposed it wasn’t fair to leave him out of that sort of brotherly conversation. Maybe it hadn’t been fair in the first place; if we could drag him into this sort of life, we ought to treat him like he belonged. Getting drunk with him was step one in treating him like the grownup he was becoming, I decided.

“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking,” I finally said.

“I am,” Zac replied. “I mean, I thought she was just waiting for my birthday or whatever, but apparently I’m jus’ that bad. Made it to third base, though.”

His words were just a little bit slurred, and I thought better of telling him he was too young to have gone that far. He had just turned fifteen, and I remembered all too well the things I had done with my first girlfriend at that age. I was in no position at all to judge Zac, and not just because of that.

“There’s plenty of time,” I said dully, hating how lame and judgmental I sounded.

“What’s it like, though?” Zac asked.

I felt my face heating up, and I was pretty sure it was from more than just the alcohol. I shrugged. “It’s… s’nice. Can be really good. I mean, it’s messy and you’ll prob’ly be done really quickly the first time. But it gets better, with practice.”

Zac nodded slowly, as though I had just delivered some really sage advice. He held up his cup, which I realized was empty. “Bartender? Can I get a refill?”

Not wanting to look weak by comparison, I chugged the rest of my drink, then wobbled my way back to the minibar. This time, I decided to bypass cups entirely and just brought several of the tiny bottles right to the bed. I tried hopelessly to line them up on the fluffy duvet, which cracked Zac up more than it should have.

We took turns trying each different type of liquor, but we continued to ignore the elephant in the room. Zac didn’t ask any other questions about my sex life, and I relaxed more and more the longer I didn’t have to answer any questions along those lines.

The rest of the night passed by in a drunken haze, each of us becoming less and less capable of even trying to start a conversation. It became clear that Zac wasn’t going anywhere, and I was too far gone to complain about the fact that the room only had one bed. It wasn’t like it was first time we’d had to share. It seemed like only months ago that he was still climbing into my bed when he had nightmares, although I knew that hadn’t really happened since just after our first album came out.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure he would have even stopped then, if Isaac hadn’t made fun of him for it. A part of me still felt bad that I hadn’t told Isaac to leave him alone. What did it hurt if Zac and I shared a bed every now and then? It certainly didn’t have any effect on Isaac whatsoever.

Things had changed since then, though. For one, I was a good half a foot taller. And for another, Zac was…. also not a little kid anymore.

I had forgotten that he liked to sleep in only his boxers. I should have rolled over and averted my eyes, but I couldn’t stop myself from staring as Zac stripped out of his clothes. There was still plenty of baby fat on his stomach, but he was anything but a baby. The muscles in his arms practically rippled as he took off his shirt, and I realized that somewhere along the way he had started to resemble a linebacker more than he did my baby brother.

Somewhat in spite of myself, I smiled at him as he climbed into bed. I reached an arm out to him as he pulled up the covers and curled up next to me.

“Goodnight,” I said, wrapping my arm around him. It only highlighted how much broader he was. I was a little jealous, and a little—something else. I was too drunk to pinpoint the emotion.

I couldn’t have said which of us moved in first. Maybe we both moved at the same time. It didn’t really matter. All I knew was that suddenly, there were a pair of soft, pillowy lips against mine. Until that moment, I hadn’t even realized that I had wondered just what Zac’s lips felt like, but I was so, so glad to know.

And all too soon, he was gone.

Zac pulled back and stared at me, his eyes wide and watery. I knew one of us should say something, but I didn’t know what. My mouth tried to form the words it’s okay, even though my brain knew that it was anything but. Kissing your brother wasn’t okay at all. Yet… I wanted to do it again.

I put my hand on the back of Zac’s neck and pulled him to me, crushing our lips together. It didn’t matter how wrong it was, not when it felt like this. It wasn’t the best justification, I knew, but it was all I had.

As Zac nibbled on my bottom lip, I had to wonder if this was his first time kissing another guy. Then I wondered if he knew that it wasn’t mine. I couldn’t imagine that he did. He was adorably eager, practically whimpering as he slid his tongue into my mouth. I didn’t want it to ever end, but only seconds later, Zac pulled away and rested his head on my neck. He sighed heavily, and I decided to close my eyes and pretend to be asleep or passed out. If this really was Zac’s first time kissing a boy, he probably needed a moment.

Not to mention the fact that the first boy he had chosen to kiss was his own brother.

I should have gotten up and ran. I knew I should have. Kissing your own brother was all kinds of fucked up, and I knew I shouldn’t encourage him. There was just one problem with that logic, though. It didn’t account for how much I had enjoyed it.

After a moment, I felt Zac’s breathing begin to even out. Maybe he had fallen asleep. I consciously forced my body to relax, trying not to think too much about what had just happened. We were both pretty drunk, after all. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

Then again, maybe it did.

While Zac’s girlfriend had been trying to break up with him, I had been trying to explain to mine that I just wasn’t so into girls. She took it incredibly well. So well, in fact, that she didn’t even seem to think that was a good enough reason for us to break up. I was sure any other guy would have been lucky to have a girl as loyal as her, but the universe had a twisted sense of humor to put me in her path.

Maybe I should have been honest with Zac. He was obviously feeling some conflict of his own if he had thought kissing me was a good idea. Maybe if I had been candid with him when he asked what sex was like…

Maybe. But maybe it would have sent him running to know the last person I’d had sex with was a boy whose name I didn’t even know who had me down on my knees in the bathroom a few venues ago.

Then again, maybe not. I didn’t want to risk finding out.

I was in that hazy spot halfway between asleep and awake when I felt it–Zac’s lips against my neck, just behind my ear. They were even hotter than they had been against my lips, and I wondered if the impression of them would actually be burnt onto my skin.

He trailed kisses further down my jaw and neck, making a scorching path across my flesh. It took every ounce of strength I had not to move, but I didn’t think Zac would be so bold if he knew I was awake and alert to his every move. He needed to explore and test his boundaries, and in my drunken state, I didn’t see a problem with letting him.

I let my body relax, going as limp as I possibly could. That only seemed to spur Zac on. He crawled over me, surprisingly cat-like for someone in the middle of a serious growth spurt. I envied him. I still hadn’t learned how to stand up straight at my new height without feeling like a circus freak.

But not Zac. He had gained strength, girth and grace all at once, it seemed.

He had me all but pinned to the bed, but it wasn’t like I wanted to go anywhere. I might have been more than a little depraved, but I was happy to lay right there and let Zac have his way with me. He seemed unsure exactly what he wanted to do, overwhelmed by the world of possibilities that was laid out in front of him. I wanted to give him some guidance, but I knew, instinctively, that any move on my part would break the spell.

Zac continued to trail kisses down my neck and chest, his hands exploring areas his lips didn’t. His big, rough hands made my skin tingle, every hair seeming to stand on end, every nerve ending raw even though Zac’s touches were still relatively innocent.

Relatively. If touching your brother could be considered innocent.

That changed quickly. His hands pushed past my boxers, fingernails digging into my hips as though trying to anchor himself. I suddenly realized why—I could feel his erection pressing against me through his own boxers. He was hard as hell, and though it was hard to tell through two layers of cotton, he seemed pretty damn big, too.

I was a little jealous. My baby brother had no right to have a dick that big, and he definitely had no right to make me want it. Want to taste it. Feel it. Suck it.

Somewhat in spite of myself, I rocked my hips upwards, making our erections brush together. I could feel then just how long and thick he was, and my mouth began to water.

“Oh, fuck,” Zac groaned. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him use that word, but in that context, with that tone of voice—when did he get so sexy? Why had I never noticed it before?

We were definitely both going to hell, and I found that I didn’t even care at all. I didn’t even care that I was so much worse for pretending to be asleep. I knew, without question, that Zac wouldn’t be taking such a risk if he thought I was awake. He would never do this if I weren’t, as far as he could tell, passed out drunk. Maybe that made him worse. It didn’t exactly speak well of him that he saw no problem with molesting his brother. Maybe we were just about even.

In any case, I knew that the second I opened my eyes, he would be gone. And that was the last thing I wanted.

I tossed my head from side to side, making a small murmuring noise that I hoped sounded believable enough. It must have, because Zac leaned down and pressed his lips to my neck again. His entire weight was on me, pinning me to the bed. He was even heavier than he looked, and I thought I might catch fire from all the body heat trapped between us.

And then I felt his hand on me.

His thick, calloused fingers wrapped around my dick, and I risked a slight upward thrust of my hips. That seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening as he began to tug on my dick. He had, I was sure, never touched another man, but he had clearly gotten plenty of practice on himself. It wasn’t long at all before I found myself grasping at the sheets and all but thrashing around beneath him.

If I didn’t seem sufficiently asleep, Zac was too far gone himself to notice. His dick was pressed against my inner thigh, hot and hard against me. He rolled his hips erratically, not even trying to match the rhythm his hand had found on my dick.

“God, that feels…” Zac breathed out, the sentence trailing off in an adorable whimper.

I moaned loudly, carefully reminding myself not to say his name. I could only guess what was going through his mind right then. Maybe he had convinced himself that I had no clue who he was, too drunk to even realize this was more than a very vivid wet dream.

No wet dream had ever felt this good.

It took all of my strength not to open my eyes. I wanted to know so badly what he looked like when he came. I could only imagine how beautiful Zac must have looked then. His whimpers grew and grew, and I knew he was getting closer. Maybe he would bite down on his bottom lip. Maybe he would throw back his head, his hair fanning out like a halo.

I somehow knew this would be my only chance to see, but I didn’t dare risk it.

His movements became more and more erratic, and I knew this was it. His head fell against my shoulder, his hair tickling my neck. With a low growl that vibrated through my body and pushed me closer to the edge, he came. I felt the warmth against my leg, and I didn’t even care about the mess he had made. As if to highlight just how twisted it was, it was his soft sigh as he collapsed against me that set me off. I let out a loud moan of my own as I unleashed a warm, sticky stream of my own into his hand.

Zac let out a soft curse, and sighed again.

Just like that, the spell was broken. Reality descended upon us again like a wave, and Zac seemed to realize just exactly what we had done… and how wrong it was.

He let out another long string of curses as he scrambled off the bed, taking all of his precious warmth with him. I whimpered and reached for him, but I knew he wouldn’t come back. This was it. This was all I got of him, and there was nothing else I could do. If I spoke, he would know that I knew it was him. I had no choice but to lay still, or risk losing Zac forever.

I rolled over onto my side, hoping that would help me resist the urge to watch. In the dark room, every sound was illuminated, the zipper on his jeans nearly as loud as a gunshot to my ears. He shuffled quickly to the door, opening and closing it with obvious care. It didn’t matter. I could hear every single thing.

And then he was gone.

I was sure that in the morning Zac would pretend this happened. I knew, too, that I had to do the same. There was no other choice. This was something that could only happen on a night like this, when he thought I would not remember it. And so, to protect him, I would have to pretend that I didn’t.

It was a choice I didn’t want to make, but I knew, clearly what my options were.

To breath a single word about tonight would not increase the chances of it happening again, although this one little taste of it had only left me wanting more. If Zac knew I had allowed him to do this, I might lose him forever.

To keep quiet would mean never feeling this way again. But it would also mean keeping him as my brother. It would mean that perhaps someday, years down the line, he might be brave enough to try it again.

I knew the chance of that was slim, but I also knew it was the only chance I had.

And so, I vowed to keep quiet…. and keep my brother, in whatever way I could.