Take Me By The Hand

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I force myself to retain a neutral expression and not squeal like a fangirl that just met Austin Carlile, though let's face it; Austin Carlile is one hot piece of ass and even I would squeal if I met him. But that's beside the point. The point is, Zacky just texted me and asked me to meet him in an hour, which is in... I look at my phone to check when the message was sent and realize, with horror, that it was sent roughly 56 minutes ago.

"Mikey!" I exclaim.

The younger boy looks up, half of a bagel hanging loosely from between his lips. He makes a little "Hmm?" noise and I widen my eyes at him, sending him vibes that say 'go along with this or I will stab you in your sleep.' 

"I forgot... we have that... project to do." It sounds like a lie to even my own ears and I fight the urge to actually start banging my head against the refrigerator door.

Mikey, though, saves my ass and nods. "I totally forgot!" He lies so smoothly and I absently wonder if he's ever used this talent to deceive me. But I push the thought away and focus on pulling him out of the room, past my parents, and out of the house. I faintly hear my mother calling out a goodbye but shut the door halfway through the word. Mikey casually stuffs another bite of bagel into his mouth as we make our way down the walkway to the sidewalk. "Zacky texted?" He guesses.

I nod, stuffing my hands into my jean pockets, silently wishing that I would have grabbed a jacket as the cool air hits my skin. For being the middle of March, it seems so cold; Colder than the past few days have been, actually. But I guess that's just the typical abnormal weather in New Jersey. The weather here changes more than Snooki changes clothes. Usually, by now, the snow has all melted and the arriving buds of flowers make you sneeze and want to vomit a rainbow, but now it feels like icicles are already forming on the end of my nose.

Mikey walks with me to the end of the block before waving and we silently part ways. He turns one way, presumably to go back to his house and waste the next seven hours of his life playing Dungeons And Dragons, while I head in the opposite direction toward the park. I absently wonder what I'm going to spend the next few hours doing and a warm blush finds it's way onto my face, heating me up immediately. Bad Frank. I try to banish the naughty images that are playing through my mind by the time I reach the park, but have no such luck. When I finally jump the fence at the edge of the soccer field, I'm having flashbacks from last night. Vivid, steamy, titillating flashbacks...

I make my way across the empty soccer field, dew settling on the grass in a solid layer that crunches as I move my feet. As I near the play area of the park, my eyes land on Zacky. His head is down as he pushes gently back and forth on the swing. He's facing away, but I can tell it's him. My heart skips a beat and I resist the urge to run over to and attack him. Sensually, that is. Not maliciously.

I do feel myself smile, however, and an extra pep falls into my step as I approach him. He doesn't move as I step up behind him, a grin spreading across my face, and wrap my arms around him. I feel him jump slightly in my grasp and laugh. He turns his head to face me and I rest my own on his shoulder. "You scared the shit out of me!" He exclaims and I only laugh again. My chuckling is abruptly brought to an end when Zacky's lips meet mine. My nerves flare up almost as much as my blush and I feel butterflies in my stomach, especially when he pulls away, smirking. "Come here." He grabs one of my hands and pulls me around so I'm standing in front of him, his legs wrapping around my waist. "Nice shirt," He comments and I glance down at myself. Oh shit. Yeah, I'm definitely still wearing a pink turtle-neck.

"It's not mine," I say quickly. "It's Gerard's."

Zacky raises an eyebrow, all humor disappearing from his face. "You're borrowing Gerard's clothes now?" I bite my lip against a smug smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Zacky sounded jealous. Then again, I do know better; I know that Zacky doesn't get jealous. Or does he...? I knew he was never really the relationship type, but that was something that always attracted me to him. I thought that maybe I could change that about him. And, if this is jealousy that's lacing his words, I'm doing a pretty damn good job so far.

I cock my head to one side, watching him in amusement. "I wouldn't have to if someone didn't leave hickeys all over my neck."

Zacky hums a little in response, pulling at the fabric that covers the marks he left like a trophy on my body, tugging it down so he can see. I feel the tips of his fingers as they graze over the darkened skin, sending shivers down my spine. I hope like hell he can't feel my heartbeat quicken when he touches me. I don't think he notices. He simply mumbles, "You're cold." It's not a question, but I nod anyway. I can almost feel my lips turning purple as we stand-- well, I stand. He sits-- here. But somehow my skin still burns where his hands touch. Suddenly he pulls his eyes away from the hickeys to meet my own. "Come on."

He stands up and I feel his hand wrap around mine, leading me away from the swing that still moves in his absence. I don't ask where he's taking me, though hopefully it's somewhere with heat, simply let him drag me along beside him. He doesn't speak and neither do I. It's a cozy silence that hangs between us. When we've gone two blocks, though, the comfortable silence is broken when curiosity gets the best of me. "Where are we going?" I ask.

Zacky glances down at me and smirks. "Back to my house," He says. "I thought you could use a little heating up."

And when we finally reach his house, two more blocks later, things really do start heating up. He leads me through the large front door, past a large living room, into a large kitchen. After getting me a RedBull, and cracking open one for himself, he takes me up the steep carpeted stairs, down a large hallway, into a large bedroom. I'm fairly amazed at how large everything is. It seems so much bigger than my own house, which is by no means small. Maybe it's just because when I'm around Zacky, I feel tiny. He's bigger than me physically, yes, but he's also much more confident. He's so aware of himself in a way that I could never imagine myself being. He makes his presence known while I'm content with blending in with the scenery. 

But when Zacky pulls me into his bedroom, I suddenly feel immensely aware of myself and the fact that he makes me feel bigger. The way he pushes me against the closed door, his lips rough on mine, makes me realize that I'm not as small as I feel. Of all the people Zacky could be with right now and he chose me. The hungry passion that burns inside of him rubs off on me when he starts tugging at my clothes, stripping the pink turtle-neck off first and tossing it away from us. It makes me feel special, like he needs me as much as he needs the air that comes in and out in panting breaths. I'm not small or meek, I'm actually something important. 

I feel myself grin into the kiss at the thought and pull Zacky closer. I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing-- I'm still new to all of this-- and Zacky takes control, but I know the gist of things by now. I know when to slide my hand across the front of his expanding boxers. I know to buck my hips into his hand when his fingers wrap around my growing erection. I know how to position myself on his bed when he tells me to lay down. What's new to me is the feeling I get when I finally feel him slide his own body into mine; I expect the excruciating pain to shoot through me like it did the night before, or the numbness to wash over me before the pleasure. But none of that happens. It still hurts when he stretches me to fit around him but, after just one time, I feel like I've grown accustomed to his body. The ache is a dull one that subsides easily, immediately replaced with the pure ecstasy that rolls in waves through my veins. With him inside of me, I feel complete somehow. Like he's the missing piece to my puzzle. Oh god, that's a horrible puzzle; Dick in ass-- Where does this piece go?

Oh god, nope. Done with that imagery. My thoughts fade out, thankfully, my mind going blank when I release. In that moment, there is nothing more than me and Zacky. There's no homophobic dad, no worry about just being part of the scenery, no intrusive best friend, and no pink turtle-neck. There's no hiding, no concerns, no secrets. I put myself out, once again, for Zacky to see and he did the same for me.

I curl up next to him, pulling the sheet up to cover both of our bodies, though I would much rather stare at his, but I think that's eye-raping so I probably shouldn't do that. I feel Zacky's arm around my shoulders and lay my head on his chest, now coated with a sheen layer of sweat and maybe just a little bit of cum, but I don't mind. 

"Are you still cold?" He asks, tightening his arm around me.

I shake my head. "No," I say. "I'm perfect." And I feel like I am. Not just my temperature, but everything. In this moment, everything is perfect.