“Mother fucker!” Taylor yelled at the mirror as he tried in vain to get his hair to lay just right. There was this one stupid chunk of hair that was insisting on going rogue and he’d be damned if he’d consent to using the flat iron Flannery had insisted he should own. It was still in the box under his bathroom sink and he couldn’t think of a time when he’d actually agree to use it. He wasn’t that high-maintenance.
“Will you stop swearing?” Flannery asked as she came into the kitchen with two glasses of wine in hand and Mr. Spanky tucked under her arm, “You’re scaring Mr. Giraffe.”
“That’s not its name,” Taylor said before he could comprehend that he would likely get teased horribly for actually naming the stupid thing.
“Oh, is that so?” she asked, setting Taylor’s glass down before sitting down on top of the closed toilet lid, “And what is its name?” He shot her a dirty look before picking up the wine, sniffing it carefully before taking a sip and ignoring her question.
“This wine sucks,” he stated, setting the glass back down, but not before taking another drink.
“It was six dollars at Walmart. What do you expect?” she rolled her eyes. After he ran his fingers carefully through his newly shorn hair for the umpteenth time, he grabbed his wine glass and headed for his walk-in closet.
“What should I wear tonight?” he asked, flipping through the hanging items, all of which suddenly seemed lacking in one way or the other. Too old, too new, too trendy, too tight, too baggy. They were all too something and he was surprised when Flannery yanked a thin, yet very tight, plain charcoal colored t-shirt from its hanger and pushed it into his chest.
“Wear this and those jeans I like,” she ordered before making herself comfortable on his bed. He nodded dumbly and did as she said, redressing himself while Flannery fussed with the stuffed animal in her lap.
“So this looks okay?” he asked, smoothing his hand over his stomach before looking himself over in the mirror once more.
“Yeah, you look hot,” she shrugged. His movements immediately halted and he turned to look at her.
“Hot?” he asked. In their friendship, Flannery had rarely acknowledged Taylor’s attractiveness, though it was not entirely lost on her. She’d just always assumed that he was gay and had never let herself think much about it. He was good-looking, very much so when he took the time to do something with himself. It was very easy for him to get lazy, especially when he was stressed, and he at times let his personal hygiene suffer a bit. But right now, he was freshly shaven and showered wearing an outfit that fit him perfectly, and yes, Flannery had to admit that he did in fact look hot.
He went over to the tall black dresser on the other side of the room and opened the second door to reveal rows and rows of neatly folded scarves. He carefully surveyed the drawer’s contents before settling on a herringbone cashmere scarf that he had bought on their last tour. Once it was securely placed around his neck, he selected a pair of Christian Dior sunglasses and pushed his hair back with them.
“I hope tonight’s fun,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror again, spinning around to check out every angle possible. His ass looked good, his hair looked good, and his clothes looked good. He nodded at himself in the mirror as his internal checklist was completed and then snatched Mr. Spanky from Flannery’s hands before setting it on his tall dresser and heading for the kitchen.
“So, are you excited?” she asked him, watching as he poured himself some more of the crappy Pinot Noir she’d purchased on her way over. She was no wine connoisseur, but she thought it tasted just fine. And, for all of Taylor’s bitching, he was still drinking it greedily. He shrugged before taking his now empty glass to the sink, rinsing it before putting it in the dishwasher.
“Yeah, I’m just nervous. Adrian made me get all pampered which makes me think that he has something crazy in store for tonight that’ll make it seem less bad in retrospect after some free spa treatments,” Taylor explained. Flannery nodded in agreement.
“Do you think you’ll get some tonight?” she grinned, loving the look of shock on his face.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his expensive black leather shoes.
“Well, wouldn’t that make sense? A logical next step?”
“Wouldn’t what make sense?” Taylor asked, inwardly fearing her answer. He knew that no matter what anyone said or how he felt when he had been drinking, he was not ready for anything serious or anything hot and heavy. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he might even want something like that, so he knew that he was definitely not ready for it to actually happen.
“I don’t know, a dance, a kiss, whatever,” she said, “Are you ready for that?”
“Yeah, sure,” he lied, checking his reflection in the glossy surface of his microwave to avoid talking about it further. The word kiss had made something deep in his gut twist nervously. A kiss was something small. It didn’t have to be earth-shattering or hugely meaningful. A kiss was just a kiss. But a kiss with a man was something he’d yet to experience. Would it feel the same? He hoped it wouldn’t, because that wouldn’t help him make a decision. But, would it be stronger? Would it be horrible? He sincerely doubted that, but at the same time, he had absolutely no idea what his body’s reaction would be. Flannery scoffed and put her own glass in the dishwasher.
“You’re so full of shit,” she said, “I’m out of here. Have fun tonight. Call me if you need a ride home.” She grabbed Taylor’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before leaving. He took a deep breath before grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the garage. Adrian had instructed him to pick him up at precisely ten o’clock so they could arrive with the other fashionably late people at the club. Tre wasn’t bartending that night, which meant that in all likelihood he would be there hoping to find someone to hook-up with. Taylor had to admit that it would be good to have a real friend on his side for the night, someone who wouldn’t push him beyond what he wanted and who would do his best to help.
Taylor easily found the house that corresponded with the address Adrian had given him the previous day. It was a nice two-story home in a good neighborhood, and Adrian was out the front door before Taylor could even put his car in park.
“How’s it going, friend?” Adrian asked cheerfully, far too cheerfully for such a late hour in Taylor’s opinion.
“It’s going fine. What is this, your parents’ house?” Taylor asked sassily, putting the car in reverse and heading for Xcape.
“No, Taylor, it’s not my parents’ house. And fuck you very much for asking,” Adrian replied, looking irritated for a split second before switching into a much happier and supportive tone of voice, “Well don’t you look nice!”
“Flannery dressed me,” Taylor said, prompting Adrian to raise an eyebrow, “Not physically, obviously.”
“Yeah right,” Adrian said under his breath, “So, what’s your plan for the night?”
“I assumed that you had that all worked out for me,” Taylor said. He rolled his shoulders in hopes of relieving the tension he could feel seeping its way back into his muscles.
“Oh don’t get all tense. I’m not going to force you to do anything, but I do think that it has become ‘shit or get off the pot’ time. You need to do something tonight that’s an actual step. Not getting a phone number that will sit in your wallet for the rest of time untouched, much like your penis will be if you don’t start doing something other than having emo conversations with yourself every four seconds,” Adrian said all in one breath, taking a deep one before launching back in, “So you need to decide what you’re going to do to make a step. Any step. Please god.”
Taylor glared at Adrian, internally declaring him a major fuckwit and wanting very much to shove him unceremoniously from the moving vehicle. Instead he just continued driving, occasionally looking at himself in the rearview mirror. If Taylor knew one thing about himself, it was that he was secretly very vain. He liked the way he looked and found himself looking at himself in every available shiny surface as often as the occasion to do so presented itself. It wasn’t that he was arrogant or self-important, and he certainly didn’t think that anyone else had to find him attractive, but he just really liked to look at himself when he looked good. And he couldn’t find a single thing wrong with that.
“You are just a vain little bitch,” Adrian laughed, “And you need to use that self-confidence tonight. If you look like you’re the shit then people will automatically think you’re the shit. It’s a basic principle.”
“Oh is it? I must have missed that lesson in “How to Be A Douche Bag” school,” Taylor rolled his eyes, suddenly wanting very badly to repeat his last visit to Xcape and drink half a bottle of some kind, any kind, of hard liquor.
“You’re so funny, Taylor. Maybe you can start a stand-up career,” Adrian said sarcastically. Taylor pulled into the parking lot and found that most of the spaces were already full. Apparently, it was a good night to be at Xcape. Taylor made a mental note to make fun of Tre later for the fact that the bar was so much busier on a night when he wasn’t the head bartender. That happened to Tre a lot and the bartenders on nights like the current one would make three times as much in tips for the night as Tre did. Needless to say, it didn’t thrill him.
As Taylor and Adrian made their way to the entrance, Taylor was preparing to give himself a mental pep talk, but found himself being interrupted by Adrian. As much as he wanted to block him out, he also didn’t want to have to come up with the entire night’s game plan all on his own.
“So, are you going to get laid tonight or what?” Adrian smiled, placing a hand on Taylor’s shoulder. Taylor shrugged him off and kept walking.
“No, I don’t think so. But something needs to happen, you’re right.”
“Like what. Christ, there’s no need to be cryptic, it’s me.” Taylor wanted to tell him that the fact that he was him was the precise reason why he didn’t want to tell him. Then, Adrian would be pushing him towards it and being all supportive and Taylor frankly wanted to be left the fuck alone.
“Some dancing… maybe a little something more…” Taylor said.
“Like a kiss?” Adrian asked slowly with annoyance. Taylor nodded slightly, hoping that Adrian would miss it and assume that he was ignoring him, but Taylor wasn’t that lucky. “Great! Your first kiss! Aww… it’s precious, really.”
“I was fourteen when I had my first kiss, thank you very much.”
“Your first kiss with a girl, yes. This will be different,” Adrian said.
“And how many guys have you kissed that you know that for sure?” Taylor asked. Adrian responded with a fake guffawing laugh.
“Again with the funny, Taylor. You’re just on fire tonight! Now let’s go get you a drink and get you making out with some hottie of your choice.” Taylor just pulled his sunglasses from their resting position on top of his head and secured them over his eyes. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being recognized per say, but since the crowd was almost twice as big as it had been the last time, he just wanted to be sure what the scene was like inside before letting his guard completely down.
“I need a drink… now,” Taylor said immediately upon entering the club. The crowd on the dance floor was undulating and growing by the second as people continued to make their way from the bar area to the mass of grinding bodies.
“Then let’s go get you one,” Adrian said, leading the way towards the bar. Adrian shooed a few particularly drunk people off of their barstools so they could sit down for a few drinks. He took the liberty of ordering Taylor his usual and a club soda for himself.
“Uh, thanks,” Taylor said as Adrian handed him his drink. He felt bad for being such an awful shit to him when he actually did something nice without strings attached. Taylor drank his drink as fast as he could without looking like he was trying to get drunk. He really wasn’t, he just wanted a drink or two in him so he could feel more calm and ready to officially launch himself lips first into the next step.
“So… see anything you like?” Adrian asked. Taylor felt comfortable looking around since his gaze was masked at least somewhat by the sunglasses on his face. “And why are you wearing those? You look like a tool.”
“Because the sun never sets on a bad ass, Adrian,” Taylor grinned before turning around to get a refill.
“I can not believe you actually just said that,” Adrian stated before calling out to the bartender, “Make his a double.”
“So, I’m just supposed to find someone to make out with tonight, is that the deal?” Taylor asked as he eagerly took his much larger drink from the bartender.
“Well, do you want to figure this shit out or not, Taylor?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then go find some random dude to stick his tongue down your throat and be done with it. If you like it, then we’ll keep working together, and if you don’t then you’re straight and this all ends.”
“I know that I need to, I’m just nervous, that’s all,” Taylor admitted, kicking back as much of his drink as he could in one respectable mouthful.
“You might want to take it easy there or we’ll have a repeat of last time,” Adrian stated, sipping his club soda calmly.
“I know… I really don’t want to get drunk tonight. I just need to get some liquor in me so I can stop feeling so tense,” he said. He closed his eyes and smiled as the familiar warmth spread throughout his body, warming every inch of him as the Jack started to kick in. That wonderfully fuzzy feeling started to settle in right in the middle of his forehead and he felt himself immediately relax. He didn’t consider himself to be a person who was dependent on alcohol, but he sure did appreciate its finer qualities in situations like that one.
“Oh my god, it’s Zac Efron!” someone from behind him yelled. Taylor spun around on the bar stool and realized that they were looking at him. “Oh… no it’s not. It’s nobody.”
“Excuse me? I’m Taylor FUCKING Hanson!” he yelled to their backs as they started to walk away. He spun back around and started grumbling unintelligibly under his breath, “Mother fuckers… I don’t look like Zac Efron.”
“Who the hell is Zac Efron?” Adrian asked. Taylor just shook his head and drained the rest of his drink.
“Don’t ask…” he answered, “It really doesn’t matter.” And with that they sunk into random chatter and continually flowing drinks. Taylor managed to keep himself from reaching drunk status for quite a long time, a fact that he was rather proud of and kept announcing to Adrian.
“Well, I’m going to go dance,” he said eventually, sliding his glass across the bar and then pushing his sunglasses back up into his hair, “I’ll see you later.”
“Try not to embarrass me,” Adrian instructed as Taylor walked away. He found himself practically bopping to the beat as he headed for the dance floor. Though he wouldn’t admit it to many people, he really did love to dance and did so quite often alone in his condo. And he didn’t just do the typically little step back and forth motion that most white guys did, but he went all out, making his way all around his living room to whatever happened to show up on his stereo. But here at Xcape, everyone was having fun dancing and getting as into it as they wanted. That was one thing that he had already decided he loved about the place, the fact that he could look like as much of a fool as he wanted to and no one would care or judge because there was undoubtedly someone looking even more ridiculous about five feet away. He danced with a few different guys, none of them for very long and he was enjoying himself even though he was no closer to reaching his goal for the night.
“Look who we have here,” Taylor heard someone behind him say. He spun in place to find Tre standing there. “Can you believe the crowd in here tonight?”
“Yeah, and you’re not bartending. That must piss you off,” Taylor laughed, stepping forwards to pull him into a tight hug. He was really glad to see him. Even though he’d been enjoying himself dancing with random guys, it was nice to see a friendly face that looked as drunk as he had gotten over the course of the evening.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. And, the trolls seem to have come out in full force tonight, so the prospect of a good fuck isn’t even on the horizon.”
“Gee… I’m so sad for you. What, has it been two days since you last had sex?”
“It’s not my fault that you’re completely incapable of using what the good lord gave you to your advantage,” Tre said, brushing imaginary lint off Taylor’s shoulder, “You look good tonight, man. Flannery helped you, didn’t she?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well, the fact that you’re not wearing some fucking shirt that you wrote on or suspenders or something is a miracle in itself. You clean up just like a shiny penny,” Tre teased, pinching his cheek hard.
“Shut up,” Taylor muttered, swatting his hand away and almost knocking himself off balance. He told himself to calm the hell down and righted himself without Tre noticing. “So, what’s your plan for the rest of the night?”
“Well, I want to go get another drink. Do a shot with you, and then come back to dance. And hopefully get a blow job in the bathroom before heading for home. And what will you be doing? Oh yeah, nothing.”
“Why are you being so mean to me?” Taylor whined. Tre just slung his arm around his shoulder and drug him in the direction of the bar. Taylor allowed himself to be pulled around, paying attention to basically nothing but thumping bass coming from the speakers and the feeling of Tre’s arm now snugly wrapped around his neck. He was almost certain that the last thing he needed was another drink, but since Tre was buying, he knew that he’d go along with it. Adrian was still sitting at the bar, chatting comfortably with some random guy. Taylor gave him an intentionally obnoxious thumbs up when their gazes met and Adrian flipped him off.
“I thought you weren’t getting drunk tonight,” Adrian shouted to him over the noise.
“Don’t tell me what to do! I’m Zac Efron, bitch!” Taylor cracked up, even more so as people whipped around to look at him at that comment.
“Do I even want to know?” Tre asked as he shoved a shot glass into Taylor’s hands.
“It’s not important,” Taylor told him before downing the liquid, “Oh… I should not have drunk that.”
“Sure you should have. Now let’s go dance!” Tre said, once again pulling Taylor, this time back in the direction of the dance floor. Taylor fought the urge to skip or do something else hideously dorky, but he was just in such a good mood and the music was just so danceable.
As soon as they reached the dance floor, Taylor felt his body sink easily into the rhythm being dictated by the song currently being blasted through the speakers. He and Tre danced for a few songs, having fun and laughing discreetly at some of the more interesting creatures that were floating around in the crowd.
“So why exactly did Adrian bring you here tonight?” Tre asked, leaning closer so Taylor would actually be able to hear him.
“Well, mainly since I got wasted so fast last time and hardly had time to meet anyone or do anything.”
“And what do you think you are now? Because you look pretty trashed to me!”
“Yeah, but I’ve been here longer than forty-five minutes this time,” Taylor pointed out, “And, I’m supposed to be taking a next step tonight. It’s the general consensus that I should kiss someone here tonight. I just don’t know how to go about it.”
“You have kissed someone before, right?” Tre laughed. Taylor shoved him backwards.
“Yes asshole, I’ve kissed lots of girls before. Just never a guy.”
“Do you really think it’s that different? Do you have no game whatsoever?”
“I’ve got plenty of game. I’m just new to the scene!”
“Well, you still have to approach someone subtly. You know, start out dancing together, or chatting at the bar,” Tre said, “And then you eventually, when you feel ready, move a little closer… like this.” He demonstrated what he had been narrating, his body moving several inches closer. Taylor felt himself intake a sharp breath, but he wasn’t acutely aware of the rest of his body’s reaction. Instinctively, his hands reached out to touch Tre, his hands resting on his waist gently, almost tentatively. Tre’s mouth was a breath away from Taylor’s cheek as they continued to move to the music. Taylor had never thought of Tre in anything other than a platonic way, and never since he had first started this whole soul-searching time had he managed to consider Tre as a possibility for something more. But in that moment, with a delightfully alcohol-clouded brain and a suddenly raging set of hormones, all he could think about was what it might feel like if Tre moved his face just slightly to the left.
“Yeah… um,” Taylor swallowed thickly, “I can see how that would work.”
“And then, when you know it’s right… you make your move,” Tre whispered, or at least Taylor thought he heard Tre said that. He realized later that it might have just been his own subconscious description of what was about to happen, because as soon as the words had passed, Tre’s mouth was on Taylor’s. He fought the urge to sink forward and allow himself to be held up and instead forced himself to take a bolder approach. Without thinking about anything other than the feeling of Tre’s tongue moving almost expertly against his, he fisted his hands in the sides of Tre’s shirt and yanked him closer. He had to admit to himself that he was enjoying it, probably more than he should have been. It went on just like that, hands fisting in hair and their bodies pressing closer together than Taylor had ever imagined. And it was that last thought that ruined it. Taylor practically leapt back as he came crashing back down to reality. He’d just made out with not only a guy, but one of his two best friends in the entire world. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
“Taylor… I…” Tre started, obviously as shaken by the experience as Taylor was, but Taylor couldn’t respond. He just ran from the dance floor and right out the front door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adrian start to chase after him, which he was grateful for because he was certainly in no shape to drive. He was drunk, tired, horny, and even more confused than before, if that was even possible.
“What the hell just happened? Are you okay?” Adrian asked with concern as he finally caught up to Taylor, who realized that he had still been running in the direction of the car.
“No. I’m definitely not okay,” was all he said before getting in the passenger’s seat.