Zac woke with a start. His heart was pounding, his body drenched in sweat. Every nerve was on fire with what his still foggy mind quickly realized was urgent, painful desire. Panting, he shoved his hand into his boxers and gripped his achingly hard cock. He was already hanging over the edge of climax, his body screaming for release. He felt as if he’d already been going at it for hours, every muscle sore and tight.
His free hand grasped at the couch under him, fingers clawing at the leather. He was spiralling out of control, his hips bucking as he furiously pumped his fist at a blinding speed. He was vaguely aware of the moans and growls coming from his mouth, but his mind was too focused on his desperate need to care. Another portion of his consciousness was aware, fully aware, too aware of who his imaginary lover was. Behind his closed lids, blue eyes stared back with blatant longing, and a soft, but distinctly tenor voice whispered in his ear, begging him to bring them both to their mutual end.
A primal scream tore it’s way out if Zac’s throat as he came, shamelessly coating his hand, as well as the sheets he’d shoved aside. He gasped for breath, seeing spots and feeling close to blacking out. His pulse thundered in his ears, blocking any other sounds. His legs trembled, his knee jerking and his feet twitching. He felt completely spent, as exhausted as if he’d run a marathon.
Eventually the room stopped spinning, and his heart rate returned to something resembling normal. Groaning, he sat up and grabbed a t-shirt that might have been his, and used it to clean himself up. As the last of the mental haze faded, he looked around he took in his surroundings. He was on the tour bus, specifically the fold-out bed in the back. The tv was on but muted, the game he’d fallen asleep playing still paused. The bus was quiet, the soft sound of a couple people snoring coming from behind the closed door.
Zac let out a long, tired sigh. He needed a drink.
He stretched his aching muscles and got up, opening the door as quietly as possible. He crept past the rows of bunks, relieved that everyone seemed to be out cold, oblivious to his… situation. That relief died in an instant as he got to the front and saw someone sitting at the table, their face hidden behind the screen of a laptop. He froze, then took a step back, but the floor chose that exact moment to creak, and the person at the table looked up.
“Hey,” Taylor said quietly. Zac sighed and came forward.
“Hey. Just grabbing a soda.”. As he walked closer, he couldn’t help staring at his brother’s face for a moment. Taylor looked up and caught his gaze, and Zac froze again
“Um, Zac? I’m not judging or anything,but…”. Taylor bit his lip, and Zac realized his brother was blushing. “Look, I know you gotta do what you gotta do. But can you try to not be so… vocal?” Taylor asked with a sheepish smirk. Zac’s eyes went wide, and he cursed under his breath, turning away.
“I, um… I was actually… asleep…” he said, clearing his throat.
“Oh. Well. Guessing it was a good dream, then?”
Zac looked back at Taylor, and saw him grinning. Part of Zac wanted to punch him for it. But instead he found himself sitting across from him, his shoulders sagging. Taylor moved his laptop aside, turning the screen to serve as a light between them.
“You could say that,” Zac said finally. “I don’t know. They’re just so… intense. I haven’t had dreams like this since… Well really, I don’t think I’ve ever had dreams like this.”
“So it’s happened before?” Taylor asked. Zac couldn’t decide if he looked more concerned or amused. He didn’t even know why he was telling Taylor about the dreams at all, especially considering…
“For a few weeks now. Practically the whole tour. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re probably just pent up,” Taylor said with a dismissive wave. “That is, unless there’s a recurring character.”
Zac glanced up at Taylor. The part of him that wanted to punch his pretty lights out was getting louder. But so was the voice telling him he had a point.
“So who’s the mystery lover?” Taylor asked, smirking. “I’m assuming it’s not Kate. Is it an ex?”
“No, nothing like that. He’s-”. Zac slammed his mouth shut, but the damage was done. Taylor’s eyes went wide, and he stifled a laugh.
“Oh my God. It’s Carrick, isn’t it?”
“What?” Zac said, his head snapping up. “No way! God no. Carrick’s great, but… no.”. Zac wasn’t surprised that’d been Taylor’s first guess. And in hindsight, it might’ve been safer to let him be a scapegoat. Because now Taylor’s brow was furrowed in thought.
“Look, forget it. It doesn’t matter who the dreams are about. That’s all they are, dreams. It’s never going to happen, no matter what, so…”. Zac stopped, frowning. He realized, the same time as Taylor from the looks if it, just how bitter and disappointed he sounded. What did that mean? Did he want the dreams to become a reality?
“Zac,” Taylor said softly. He reached out and placed a hand on Zac’s. Zac resisted the urge to pull away, but refused to look up. “It might not be as impossible as you think.”
“Yeah, right,” Zac scoffed. He tried to pull back, but Taylor gripped his wrist.
“Zac,” he said again, more insistent. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but, well…you talk in your sleep. A lot.”
Zac’s eyes flashed up, a chill running through his bloodstream. Taylor was still smirking at him, and Zac felt him brush his thumb over the back of his hand.
“What do you think I do on my laptop all night, when everyone else is asleep?”
“How the hell should I know?” Zac snapped. Taylor just kept smiling, and nodded his head towards the glowing screen between them. Confused and more than a little angry, Zac turned his eyes to the laptop. What he saw was a series of pictures, all from concerts, taken from in the crowd. And all of him.
Pictures of him drumming, head thrown back, sweat rolling down his neck. Pictures of him standing out front singing, a hand on his chest, or lower. One or two of him mid-jump, his shirt lifted to reveal an expanse of skin and a hint of hair.
“Tay… what is…”. Before Zac could finish the thought, Taylor reached over and switched browser tabs. Zac scanned the page of text, certain words standing out, including both their names, and a plethora of explicit descriptions of their bodies and actions.
“It’s pretty late. Why don’t we head to bed?” Taylor smiled and closed his laptop, then slid out of his seat.
“I’m not- wait. Did you say… ‘we’?”. Zac stared at Taylor, and the hand he was offering. Taylor was blushing and biting his lip again.
“C’mon,” Taylor said simply, nodding towards the back of the bus. Zac eyed him, wondering for a moment if he’d ever really woken up. Finally, he reached out and took Taylor’s hand, and let himself be pulled to his feet.
Taylor put his hand on Zac’s lower back and lead him towards the back.
“Why don’t you tell me more about those dreams?” he whispered in Zac’s ear.
“Or,” Zac said, closing the door behind him. “I could just show you.”
“I like that better.” Taylor smirked and flipped the lock.